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#Arthur shelby imagines
zapreportsblog · 9 months
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↳ strong woman ↲
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✭ pairing : arthur shelby x reader
✭ fandom : peaks blinders
✭ summary : arthur shelby finds himself a good woman, she’s got her own job and her family adores him, and she can hold her own. What more can a man ask for ?!
✭ authors note : oh wow this is my first peaky blinders fic. I’ll make a masterlist for this too at some point if it becomes a hit or if requests for them begin flowing in but for now sit back and enjoy the show :)
✭ peaky blinders masterlist
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The air inside The Rusty Nail was thick with the pungent aroma of stale beer and the raucous symphony of clinking glasses and hearty laughter. Dimly lit by the feeble glow of flickering bulbs, the bar seemed like a haven for those seeking refuge from the hardships of life. Amidst the haze of cigarette smoke, Arthur Shelby sat perched atop a barstool, nursing his umpteenth drink of the night.
The creak of the wooden floorboards signaled the entrance of a group of rowdy patrons, their faces flushed from a combination of liquor and bravado. As Arthur took a casual sip from his glass, his eyes locked onto a man with a sneer that suggested trouble. The tension in the air grew palpable as harsh words were exchanged, and before anyone could react, the first punch was thrown.
The bar fight erupted like a storm, tables overturned and chairs clattering to the floor. Fists flew and curses echoed in the confined space, drowning out the hum of conversations. Arthur, never one to back down, found himself amidst the chaos. The clang of punches landing and the grunts of pain melded together in a discordant rhythm.
Arthur's instincts kicked in, his senses honed by years of living on the edge. He bobbed and weaved, delivering calculated blows that found their mark. A swing and a swift jab sent his adversary stumbling backward, crashing into a table and knocking over a tower of glasses. The crowd roared with approval as Arthur stood victorious, his chest heaving and his knuckles smeared with blood.
As the dust settled and the brawl subsided, Arthur's adrenaline-fueled courage began to wane, replaced by the effects of the alcohol he had consumed earlier. His steps grew unsteady, and he stumbled towards the exit. The world outside was a blur of shapes and colors, and he leaned against the doorframe for support, struggling to maintain his balance.
Suddenly, a warm voice cut through the haze, like a lighthouse guiding him through the fog. "Are you alright, son?" a kindly older gentleman inquired, concern etched into his features. Arthur's words slurred as he attempted to respond, a mixture of incoherent mumbles and drunken laughter.
The older man's eyes twinkled with understanding, and he gently placed a steadying hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You've had a bit too much, I reckon. How about I take you back to my home? You can rest up until morning."
Arthur nodded, his gratitude evident despite his intoxicated state. With the stranger's support, he navigated the uneven pavement and stumbled into the night, leaving behind the tumultuous scene of the bar. As they walked, the city lights flickered like stars in the sky, and Arthur felt an odd sense of camaraderie with the man who had extended his helping hand.
Guided by the older man's steady arm, Arthur stumbled along the sidewalk, his world swirling in a haze of alcohol and exhaustion. The crisp night air cut through his stupor, offering a faint semblance of clarity. Finally, they arrived at a modest home, its windows glowing with warm light against the darkness.
As they stepped through the door, a woman's voice called out from the living room. "Darling, dinner's gone cold. You know how forgetful I am with the oven timer." The older man led Arthur forward, and the woman's gaze shifted from the untouched dinner to Arthur's disheveled state. "Oh my," she exclaimed, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in surprise.
Her voice carried through the house, and before long, the soft patter of footsteps echoed down the stairs. A young woman, her hair tousled and eyes bleary from sleep, appeared in the doorway. "What's going on, Mom?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.
The older man offered a reassuring smile to his wife before turning his attention to their unexpected guest. "This young man needs a bit of help. Looks like he had a bit too much to drink."
The young woman, (Y/N), stepped forward with a mix of sympathy and determination in her eyes. She wore a simple nightgown, her presence both soothing and vibrant against the backdrop of the late hour. "Let's get him settled," she said, her voice calm and soothing. Together, the three of them carefully maneuvered Arthur towards a spare room at the end of the hallway.
With gentle hands and steady guidance, they eased Arthur onto the bed. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. Arthur's eyes struggled to focus, but the kindness in (Y/N)'s eyes was unmistakable.
"He'll be fine in here," the older man said, his voice laden with concern. "Rest up, young man. We'll make sure you're alright come morning."
As Arthur settled into the bed, his thoughts began to blur into incoherence. The world around him faded into the periphery as he succumbed to the pull of sleep. Through the fog of his drowsiness, he faintly heard the rustling of blankets and the hushed murmurs of (Y/N) and her parents as they ensured his comfort.
And so, in a stranger's home, Arthur Shelby found a refuge from the tumult of the night.
The morning sun painted the room in a warm glow as Arthur Shelby stirred awake. He blinked against the light, slowly piecing together his surroundings. Memories of the previous night trickled back, and he realized he was in a stranger's home. Pushing himself up from the bed, he rubbed his temples, the remnants of a headache still lingering.
As he made his way downstairs, the aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the air. The scene that greeted him was a picture of domestic tranquility. The older man stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand, while his wife set the table with a collection of mismatched plates and silverware.
"Morning," Arthur croaked, his voice rough from the previous night's revelry. The older man turned, a welcoming smile on his lips.
"Morning, son," he replied. "Slept alright?"
"Much better than I deserved," Arthur admitted, gratitude evident in his eyes.
The older man chuckled. "No need to worry about that. My name's Robert, by the way. And this is my wife, Eleanor." The woman offered a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Arthur," he replied, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his mind. Would they recognize the name? He was, after all, a Shelby, a name that carried weight in certain circles.
Eleanor chimed in, her voice friendly. "Nice to meet you, Arthur. Our daughter, (Y/N), helped us get you settled last night." At the mention of her name, (Y/N) entered the room, her presence as radiant as the morning sun.
"Morning again," she said with a soft smile. "Did you sleep alright?"
"Better than expected," Arthur replied, his gaze briefly meeting (Y/N)'s before he looked away, hiding a hint of surprise that his name didn't elicit any recognition.
As they gathered around the table, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like old friends catching up. They spoke of simple things—weather, life in the city, and shared anecdotes. Arthur found himself easing into the rhythm of their chatter, his guard lowering with each passing moment.
The breakfast table became a temporary haven, a place where a man known for his hard exterior found himself welcomed without judgment or suspicion. And as the meal drew to a close, Robert extended an invitation that warmed Arthur's heart.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, Arthur," Robert said, his words genuine. "We're glad to have you."
Arthur's gratitude was palpable as he nodded. "Thank you, Robert. I appreciate it."
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Arthur realized that sometimes, even in the most unexpected places, people could surprise you with their kindness. He had stumbled into this family's life under unlikely circumstances, and in doing so, had found a haven of acceptance that he hadn't anticipated.
Weeks turned into months, and Arthur Shelby found himself drawn to the haven of warmth and comfort that was Robert's home. Whenever he wasn't immersed in the world of the Peaky Blinders, he sought solace in the company of the kind-hearted family. The days he spent there became a reprieve from the relentless demands of his other life.
His family began to notice his frequent absences, and questions began to arise. "Where are you off to, Arthur?" Tommy asked one evening as they sat in their dimly lit headquarters.
Arthur shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Just passing time, Tommy. Nothin' special."
Tommy cast a scrutinizing look his way, his eyes narrowing. "Passing time, huh? You've been disappearing quite a bit lately."
Arthur's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. "Like I said, Tommy, just keepin' busy."
Tommy's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the task at hand, leaving Arthur with a sense of relief mingled with apprehension.
One day, as the sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, Arthur found himself wandering towards the small business that Robert's family owned. The scent of freshly baked goods filled the air, and the sight of (Y/N) and her mother working side by side in the kitchen brought a soft smile to his lips.
Seeing him, (Y/N) grinned and wiped her hands on her apron. "Arthur, you're just in time. We could use an extra pair of hands today."
Without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves and joined them in their culinary pursuits. The rhythmic kneading of dough, the careful measuring of ingredients, and the banter that flowed between them made the hours fly by. Arthur discovered a surprising talent for baking, finding satisfaction in creating something with his hands that brought joy to others.
As they worked, (Y/N) and her mother shared stories of their business and their hopes for the future. They spoke of dreams and aspirations, of simple pleasures and the bonds that held their family together. Arthur found himself opening up as well, sharing fragments of his own life that he had rarely revealed to anyone.
Days turned into weeks, and the bakery became a haven where Arthur's burdens seemed to lessen. The simple act of kneading dough and watching pastries rise in the oven brought a sense of accomplishment that was different from the violence and power struggles of his other life.
As Arthur walked back to his own world, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. He had found solace and acceptance with Robert's family, a stark contrast to the life he led with the Shelby gang. The bakery had become more than just a place to escape—it was a reminder that there was goodness in the world, and that he could be a part of it, even if only for a few stolen moments.
As the days turned into weeks, Arthur found himself captivated by (Y/N)'s genuine sweetness and the way her eyes lit up with kindness. He admired her for her resilience, her ability to see the good in people even in a world that often seemed so harsh. He couldn't help but notice the gentle curve of her smile and the way her laughter seemed to chase away the shadows.
Summoning his courage, Arthur decided to take a step forward. He approached Robert and Eleanor one evening, his heart pounding as he broached the subject. "I was wondering if it would be alright if I took (Y/N) out for a date," he began, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "I know there's an age difference, but I respect her and I promise to treat her right."
Robert exchanged a look with his wife, a twinkle in his eyes. Eleanor smiled warmly. "We couldn't be happier, Arthur. You've shown us your good heart, and we trust you."
Arthur's relief was palpable, and he offered a genuine smile in return. "Thank you."
On the night of their date, Arthur arrived at (Y/N)'s doorstep, his heart racing as he knocked on the door. She opened it, a hint of surprise dancing in her eyes. "Arthur? Is everything alright?"
He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out tonight. Maybe catch a movie and have dinner."
(Y/N)'s eyes widened for a moment before a warm smile spread across her lips. "I'd love to."
As they made their way to the town over, laughter and easy conversation flowed between them. The movie was entertaining, but what stuck with Arthur were stolen glances and the sense of comfort he felt in her presence.
After the movie, as they walked down the street, the atmosphere shifted. A group of rowdy men began catcalling (Y/N), their comments lewd and disrespectful. Before Arthur could react, (Y/N) had turned to face them, her stance unwavering.
"Is this how you think it's okay to treat women?" (Y/N)'s voice was firm, her eyes flashing with a fire that took Arthur by surprise. And then, in a sudden flurry of movement, her fists were flying, her punches landing with precision.
Arthur stood frozen, watching in awe as (Y/N) held her own, her punches landing with impressive force. By the time the confrontation ended, the men were nursing their injuries and retreating, chastened by the encounter.
Arthur's jaw hung open, his admiration for (Y/N) growing even stronger. She turned to him, her cheeks flushed and her expression fierce. "Sorry you had to see that, Arthur."
"Sorry?" Arthur managed, a mix of astonishment and awe in his voice. "That was... impressive."
(Y/N)'s fierce expression softened into a sheepish grin. "Well, thanks. I just can't stand that kind of behavior."
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "I'll keep that in mind. Remind me never to cross you."
As they continued their evening, Arthur realized that his admiration for (Y/N) had only deepened. She was more than just sweet and kind; she was strong and unafraid, a force to be reckoned with. And as he walked her back to her doorstep, he couldn't help but think that he had found something truly special in her, something that had the potential to change his life in ways he hadn't expected.
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red-riding-wood · 4 months
Note
Hi darling, I have a request for a drabble if you feel inspired. ❛ people like us don’t get to decide when we’re done. ❜ from the prompt list with Arthur Shelby.
People Like Us
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Pairing: Arthur Shelby x F!Reader
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Warnings: graphic depiction of suicide attempts, blood and cutting, angst, comfort
WC: 1848
Definitely not just a drabble, got a bit carried away with this one. I'm sorry this is so late, Lee! Getting back on track with writing.
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You’d thought everyone had left. But Arthur had remained; he always did, for at least a few minutes after, to make sure you were safe. He stood outside your door, watching the coppers stationed in the darkened alleys, occasionally knocking one’s teeth out when he didn’t think they were taking their watch over you seriously. Sometimes, when the night was most quiet, and the voices of those he’d damned did not plague his mind, he thought about admitting things to you – feelings, that you likely did not reciprocate.
Tonight, your bathroom light had been on, and your screeching pierced the walls of the residence and filled the night air of Birmingham like some sort of banshee.
Your eyes were foggy when the door swung open and the man nearly slipped making his way to you, a bruised hand clasping around the porcelain of the tub and a few locks of hair wisping over his eyes before the same hand was wrapping around you, pulling you up. Crimson streaked your vision as it dribbled down your wrist, pooling around you, staining the bathwater a pale, sickening shade of red. For one dreadful moment, you feared you might never escape it, that you would drown with the tang of bitter iron on your tongue and the blood-water would swallow your eyes, your throat, your ears.
But Arthur’s palm in yours was strong, and warm; it pumped a new life in your veins and sent shivers along your numb, tingling flesh, and heaved you from the waters of death in one dizzying sweep. Head rolling back, long fingers caught you, cradling you against the heat of his chest, the palpitations of his wild heart coming to you in shockwaves. Yours were frighteningly faint in comparison to his. 
You shivered in his arms – cold, suddenly, past the heat of the adrenaline – as your bare flesh met the biting air, curling in on yourself like a child. Everything took a second or two to register, maybe more – did time even exist? It must have; it must have, because you were fading fast. And Arthur was holding you, and your wet, metallic lips buried themselves in the soft fabric of his chest, desperate to hear the sound of his heartbeat drown out yours. Desperate to cling to the living.
“D – don’t let it take me,” you mumbled into his chest. He smelled like blood, bullets and sweat. He smelled like aftershave and cigarettes. He smelled like the lavender oil you’d given him to help him sleep among his demons. He smelled like home.
A thumb stroked lovingly over your drenched scalp. How could the same hands that had strangled a poor man to death last week be so gentle to you?
“No one’s takin’ you, love.” His hot breath sent another shiver through you, down the nape of your neck. But his words quivered. “Not as long as there is breath in me goddamn breast.”
The remnants of the red tide clung to your bare skin, ringlets of drenched hair clinging to your neck, threatening to choke the life from you. In the pitch black of your mind, it frothed at the seams, spilling into the void that seemed to span wider, and wider, until you were lost in the middle of an ocean.
“Arth… Ar…” Delirious, spinning – everything was spinning. Your nails dug into his skin, fabric bunching in your shaking fist, and you gasped, aftershave and blood and lavender all flooding your senses before blackness came to you in a staccato rhythm, once and twice and once and twice and twice and once and thrice…
---
Your blood was starting to dry on Arthur’s shirt when he came inside to see you. He’d injured two men when they tried taking you from him during your blood transfusion, and he’d nearly killed another as he’d been dragged to the alleyway behind the hospital. There, he kicked at brick walls ‘til the leather of shoes peeled, and punched ‘til his shoulders screamed in their sockets and his knuckles split open. Cursed that damned god of his for letting this happen to you, threatened that if he did not return you to him, he would bring Hell down on the heavens.
His neck still burned with an inflamed red mark where he’d torn the chain of the cross from his neck, the metal now stained with your blood, too. Everything, everything was painted in it, everywhere he looked, and his own bloodied knuckles clenched around the cross tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Shelby. I didn’t know – “
“Just lemme see ‘er,” Arthur told the nurse, the gruff of his voice nearly cracking from his wailing and screaming in the alley. The only reason they had let him in was because of the name he bore, and once he knew you were okay he’d personally see to it that each one of them understood the repercussions of denying a Shelby.
Like a mouse under the stare of a mad dog, the nurse scurried off, doors shutting and leaving the room quiet save for the steady beeping, and the creak of the floor beneath Arthur’s torn shoes.
Watery eyes took in your half-conscious form, curled up in the hospital bed just as you’d been curled in his arms, a light gown draped over you. You were still shivering.
While relief settled in the pit of his twisting stomach, grief still knotted his throat, and as much as he tried to hold the tears back, he tasted both salt and blood on his tongue as he lowered himself beside you, bloodied and ringed fingers ghosting across your arms, as if fearful that he would hurt you. 
A sliver of white light tore along the blackness, and your eyes squinted shut, a pain throbbing in your skull. Every thread of sinew and marrow seemed to ache, deep inside your body where you didn’t even know pain could exist, and the red tide lapped at the blurred edges of your mind as you lay flat on your little island in the middle of the sea. The rock beneath you was soft as you rolled your head over, a clean, unfamiliar scent seeming to send your mind into turmoil, shifting your reality between the light and dark, like a pendulum that swung across the white of the heavens, an eclipse that brought you pain and light one moment, darkness and cold the next.
The soft touch of the angel was warm along your arms as the light shattered the black sky, and you gasped. Its touch waned, and you arched your back to sit up, hand reaching feebly for it in the unknown. “Angel…” you thought you breathed. “Angel… don’t go. Don’t leave me here.”
Don’t leave me here to be swallowed by the red tide.
Your fingers grasped something tangible, something soft and warm, a fire burning beneath softness. Flesh, hot against your palms. Lavender and iron called to you, and finally, strong hands wrapped around you to pull you close.  
“I ain’t no angel,” a familiar, lulling voice spoke as light cleaved the darkness in two and tore it, strip by strip, from your starry gaze. “But I ain’t goin’ anywhere, love.”
“Arthur.” You smiled around the name, lashes fluttering as you blinked against his blurry visage. Messy strands of hair flopped over his winter-blue eyes, and you clung to the collar of his shirt, dizzy but supported by his hands on your spine, rough and worn against your skin where the hospital gown split.
The pendulum swung against your skull, and your gut roiled with nausea. Your eyes wandered to the wrists that had been bandaged, the red tide seeping into the white. Something beside you beeped to the swing of the pendulum, but broke its rhythm suddenly. Your heart leapt to your throat.
“Shhh,” Arthur said, thumb making little circles over your spine. “We’re gonna get you home, love.”
The red tide began to seep into the corners of your vision as images hurtled towards you in the wide, never-ending ocean. The bullets strewn across your end table, each etched with a name that would haunt your dreams as those before them had. The porcelain of a bathtub, as pallid as the boy’s face who’d taken shrapnel to his chest not twenty feet before your eyes. The heat of the blood-water, like the heat of the fire that had devoured the Garrison the night your innocence had been lost.
“I don’t want to go back,” you pleaded with him, panicking as you found yourself attached to a thin, red tube.
Your fists pummeled his chest weakly and your knees kicked against his leg, and your frail body writhed beneath his grasp, but despite his heart breaking, he did not release you. The burn of the chain he’d snapped from his neck reminded him of the rope that he’d tied years ago, and he could feel a chasm opening beneath his boots as his legs had kicked from under him like yours did now.
And as you finally began to settle, wracked by soft sobs, he cupped your cheek in his bloodied hand, and he looked into the same eyes that had saved him, as he repeated your own words back to you, the words that still echoed in his mind whenever he thought of pulling the trigger on the trouble in his head or tying another noose,
“People like us don’t get to decide when we’re done.”
God damn him, damn his selfish soul for the look in those eyes that had once been so strong, for the way your jaw trembled against his hand. His lip curled, quivering, another tear streaking across his face as he tried desperately to keep the last, frayed threads of his sanity from snapping. Tried to hold himself together so that he could save you.
Because as much as it broke his heart to see you like this, and as much as he cursed his brother but mostly himself for dragging you into this life, he could not lose you.
“You hear me?” Arthur’s voice rose as his fingers dug into your jaw, his gentleness overcome by desperation as the noose tightened round his neck. The hinges of the bed creaked as the wooden stool had, and you watched as his face flushed red. He was going to break.
You shimmied forward, wading through the red tide, finding the water to be shallow here as you crawled onto his lap and buried your face in the crook of his neck. Hugging him so tight that you kept the shattered pieces of him together. That you snapped the rope on his noose and he gasped for air against the lavender and blood of your scalp.
“I hear you,” you murmured into the warmth of his neck, and when you shut your eyes, you stood ashore from the red tide. The sweat and tears against his flesh still smelled of the sea, and though these waters thrashed, they ran clear. And you knew that your angel would guide you through them.
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MASTERLIST • REQUEST
Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!
Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey @zablife
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scorpiussage · 1 year
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Peaky Blinders characters with a daughter who gets her first period
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🌕 Tommy
🌕Three words: “Full Panic Mode”
🌕Oh god, where’s Polly when you need her? 
🌕Will absolutely dump the task onto the literal first woman he happens to pass, but will still hover awkwardly in the background like the overprotective parent he is. 
🌕Does not know the first thing about dealing with periods because that’s ‘womens’ business’ and he’s not in the habit of involving himself in that sort of thing. But he will stick around to learn whatever he can so that he can help his daughter more effectively in the future. 
🌕Will also go overboard in prepping for future periods. Seriously, this man will have a full warehouse of period supplies on standby from that moment on. 
🌕If anyone in the family or outside the family tries to tease her about her period, he will pull his razor cap on them no hesitation. 
🌕If she happens to be someone who suffers from bad cramps, he will be one of those dads who has hot water bottles on hand with more on standby if needed and will stay home with his girl if she’s in too much pain to go to school. 
🌹 Alfie 
🌹If his daughter is too shy to tell him that her period started, he’ll figure it out without her saying anything. 
🌹Is incredibly kind and gentle about the whole thing, “Now see here, love, that’s normal, it is. Don’t gotta be embarrassed about it none.” 
🌹Doesn’t need to ask a woman for help because he’s been preparing for this moment since his little girl was born. He knows all the medical knowledge and has all the products she might need stored in the cabinet just waiting to be used. 
🌹Makes her lots of sweets for that time of the month for her to snack on and while is very understanding about cramps and such, will not allow her to skip school because of her period, “Can’t be having you missing your education. It’s a normal bodily function, yeah? And anyone who says otherwise can come fucking talk to me.” 
🌹One time a kid in school teased her when her period leaked through the back of her dress and Alfie went and had a lovely conversation with that boy’s parents. Funny that, they decided to suddenly leave town. 
🌞 John
🌞Not his first rodeo, that’s for sure. Man’s got kids out the wazoo so as soon as one of his daughters starts her period, he’s already reaching into the cabinet to grab the necessary supplies. 
🌞Doesn’t really talk about it beyond, “Anyone says anything, I’ll fucking cut them.” 
🌞Honestly a pretty hands off father but mostly because he knows his girls can handle themselves just fine and if they have any questions or issues they can talk to each other or Polly. 
🌞Loves to make fun of his brothers for panicking about the same sort of situation with their own daughters. 
💥 Arthur
💥Man practically faints when his little girl comes to him and tells him that her period has started. Not normally squeamish but when it comes to ladies issues, he very much is. 
💥Will be completely useless and Polly or Ada will have to intervene and help her. 
💥It’s not that he’s a bad father or anything, it’s just that he’s not prepared himself for this inevitability, especially because he’s one of those dad’s that wants his girl to stay little forever. 
💥Doesn’t know anything about anything but if you tell him what to buy, he’ll buy as much as he can and then hope that that’s enough for her to never mention it again. 
⚡️ Michael  
⚡️Will definitely be like, “Uh that’s not my department go find grandma.” 
⚡️He will also not take any extra steps or learn any new information for his daughter; that’s women’s business and he’s not interested. 
⚡️Basically his daughter is on her own with this one unless she asks Polly for help. 
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nineteenninety-six · 2 years
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Please can I request shelby sister getting a love bite and her brothers reactions to it?
Hello! Sorry, this isn't the greatest but I couldn't really think of a way to end it plus I'm mega tired.
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Living with three extremely overprotective older brothers was not fun or easy, especially as you wanted to grow up and explore as many young women do.
But every time YN wants to go out she gets a barrage of questions from your brothers asking where she was going, who she was going out with, what time she would be back and about a million more questions before she escapes through the door.
But her brother's over-protectiveness would end up biting them in the arse as (Y/N) began to sneak out to avoid them, either climbing through her bedroom window or sneaking out during the dead of night when everyone was asleep. The only person who caught on was Ada who did the same thing when she was her age and in sister solidarity, Ada kept her mouth shut.
Every weekend (Y/N) snuck out to hang out with her friends at a pub and would come back just before the sun rose but this weekend was slightly different. Usually, she would just drink with her friends but this time there was a group of boys sitting at the table next to them and the two groups got close, buying drinks for each other and becoming close which caused things to develop in a not-so-innocent way and resulted in her leaving the pub with a couple of love bites on her neck.
As (Y/N) turned the corner onto Watery Lane, she stopped in her steps at the sight of all the lights on in her house. They had figured it out and were waiting for her to get her so they could confront her. 
(Y/N) considered running off to a friend's house but that would only delay the inevitable so she squared her shoulders and continued home completely forgetting about the marks on her neck. 
The low murmuring coming from the kitchen halted to a stop when she closed the front door behind her. (Y/N) quickly hurried to the kitchen, knowing that if she lingered she would run away and the consequences would be worse.
With one final deep breath, (Y/N) pushed open the kitchen door and stepped inside to find everyone in there waiting for her, even little Finn was struggling to keep his eyes open.
Polly let out a sigh of relief when (Y/N) walked through the door, “Right! She managed to make it home safe. Can we finally go to bed?”
“Not just yet Pol,” Arthur grumbled.
“No, you lot can do whatever you want but it’s past Finn’s bedtime, we’re both going upstairs”
No one argued at that and even though (Y/N) hoped Ada would stay downstairs, her older sister gave her a sympathetic smile and a pat on her shoulder before following Polly and Finn upstairs.
“Might as well get this over with then…” (Y/N) sighed as she threw herself into the seat that Polly and Ada had vacated, opposite her three very angry brothers.
“Defying our explicit rules, drinking with strangers, staying out on the streets all night and god knows what else” Tommy begins the telling off, “Why would you do everything we told you not to do?”
(Y/N) didn’t even get a chance to speak before Arthur speaks up,
“We raised you better than this! What happened to you?”
(Y/N) huffed at her brother, “The only reason I do this is that you keep me on a bloody leash! I’m not allowed to do a million things according to you and I’m fucking tired of it”
(Y/N) jumped up from the couch to storm upstairs but was stopped in her tracks but John’s hand on her arm.
“Wait a sec…what’s that on your neck?”
(Y/N)’s eyes widen as she remembers her lovebites, she had totally forgotten about them.
“You must be getting old, there’s nothing on my neck” (Y/N) quipped in hope that it would distract her brothers.
She only managed to one step up before Tommy grabbed her arm and tugged her back down the stairs and down on the sofa.
“That’s not going to work and you know it now tell us the truth, what’s with the hickeys” Tommy got straight to the point, face blank and serious as usual.
Tommy was the only brother whose buttons she didn’t try to push and though he did have a soft side that allowed for some teasing, she had learned when that side came out and it was most definitely not now.
“You know, love bites nothing special…” (Y/N) mumbled under her breath
“Speak up!” Arthur cut in
(Y/N) huffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, “It was only this once!”
“It’s not like we can trust your word, look at what you’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks, sneaking out and all!” This time it was John who spoke up.
“Well, I wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t keep me on a damned leash the whole time! Christ!”
With one last glare at her brothers, she stormed upstairs effectively escaping any more questioning as well as any punishment. Whilst her brother had most definitely not forgotten about the hickeys that have hopefully realised it was better if they shut up and act like they never existed than deal with a very angry her.
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strayrockette · 2 years
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Arthur Shelby Masterlist
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One Shots
Drop By (m!reader) A close friend who likes to come over unannounced with food in hand
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Had literally zilch inspiration recently 😩
Send in some requests?? 🥺😘❤️
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warnersister · 2 months
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Peaky blinders headcannon ->
“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”
Find the request here
Tommy🪖
🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.
🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.
🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”
🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?
🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.
🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.
🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.
🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”
🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?
🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.
🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.
🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.
🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”
🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.
🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.
🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.
🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.
Arthur🍺
🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.
🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.
🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.
🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.
🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.
🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.
🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.
🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”
🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.
John🥃
🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.
🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.
🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”
🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.
🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.
🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.
🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.
🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.
🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.
🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.
🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”
🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.
🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.
🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.
🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.
Isaiah♟️
♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.
♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.
♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?
♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.
♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.
♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.
♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.
♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.
♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.
Michael🎱
🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.
🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.
🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.
🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.
🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.
🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”
Finn🎞️
🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.
🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.
🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.
🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.
🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.
🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.
🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.
🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.
🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”
🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.
🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.
🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.
🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.
🎞️“Nice.”
685 notes · View notes
pacifymebby · 10 months
Note
Bonjour daddy 😉 can I request the peaky boys with cuddling? Like who’s the big spoon, which positions who’s the most cuddly etc.. me has gotten her period so I’m feeling all 🙍🏼‍♀️
Hahaha a total side note, i made that same joke to b and he just smirked like, if thats what you'd like to believe I won't ruin ur moment haha
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Tommy
🌿 Is very big on the standing up cuddle, opening his arms up to you and holding you nice and snug against his body, wrapping his arms right around you, one hand stroking through your hair or cradling the back of your head.
🌿Will rest his chin on top of yours, kiss your parting and close his eyes, breathing in your scent
🌿Is a very doomed man and is always lowkey aware that every hug could be the last time he gets to hold his angel so every hug is savoured. He focuses on memorising exactly how he feels in the moment he's holding you, every detail filed away in his memory.
🌿He likes to be big spoon, but more than that he likes to lie on his back with your body on top of his.
🌿Drawing patterns down your back quietly, again trying to remember every detail. Obsessed with the sensation of your light restful breaths tickling his bare chest
🌿Loves the skin on skin feeling, always chasing purity in love and it makes him feel so connected to you, so intimate.
🌿 When you're on your period he recognises the change in your temper and is very careful with you, he will try not to snap at you or show any sign of irritation because he's aware how easily wounded you are... He makes sure to hug you and hold you even more than usual
🌿Modern! Tommy would make sure you had a hot waterbottle and all the blankets you needed, get you cosy in bed or on the sofa in front of the tv to watch your favourite movie. He'll humour whatever trash you want to watch and lie there behind you, kissing you and playing with your hair, more focussed on you than the tv.
Alfie
🐻 Big spoon always because he just wants to hold you, wants to be able to put his hands wherever he likes.
🐻 Likes to hold you in sexual places in a non-sexual way. What I mean by this is that if you're little spoon he'll hold one of your breasts in his hand, but just that, simply holding it just because he can... And not because he wants anything more than just to hold you
🐻 Also likes to tickle you on purpose with his beard, his stubble brushing your cheek or your neck, making you giggle and squirm rousing you from your sleep for just long enough he can ask for a kiss.
🐻 His favourite place to cuddle with you however is in a rocking chair by the fire, you bundled up in his lap under a blanket, him holding you safe and snug, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. You're the most precious thing in the world to him so he likes to have you bundled up in his arms at any opportunity.
🐻 You could be busy around the house talking to him about your day or mithering and worrying, or asking him about business and he will refuse to talk to you about any of it until you've gone and sat down in his lap. He'll pat his thigh and open his arms for you, "now now zieskiet, whatve I told you eh, if you're gonna come home talkin me poor old ears off about that nonsense you've at least got to let me hold my little girl whilst I listen eh... Take pity on your old man yeah poppet?"
🐻 Very possesive, can't keep his hands off you ever so when you're cuddling he's constantly rubbing his palms over your arms, or holding your thigh, always doing little things to let you know he's there, that youre all his and he's got you.
🐻 Gives big squeezy bear hugs holds onto you so tight, keeps your face burried into his chest, blocks out the rest of the world so that all you can feel his him all around you.
🐻 Alfie's too old to be immature about your period and if anything he feels a little sorry for you, he doesnt like that he can't do much to help you but he always makes sure he's very gentle with you. Even more doting than usual.
🐻 Gives the best belly rubs, like he ubderstands that you need to do more than just rub your hands lightly over your tummy. He'll rub his hands together to heat them up first and then gently massage you until you're feeling a little better.
🐻 Modern Alfie wouldn't be embarrassed about going to shops to get your pads but he also wouldn't be going... He'd be sending Ollie so that you and him could have a good laugh at Ollie expense.
Arthur
🍂 Doesn't realise until one day you climb into bed after him and make yourself big spoon, wrapping your body around his, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing down the bumps of his spine, kissing his shoulder too, but he loves being little spoon.
🍂 It makes him feel so safe and loved, makes him feel cherished which is a very new feeling for him, not one he's ever experienced in adult life.
🍂 He loves being able to close his eyes and feel your fingers scratching and massaging his head. You like stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw where his stubble is.
🍂 He doesnt admit that he loves this for a long time though, and you never ask about it because you know that if you do he'll get embarassed and deny it and then potentially never let you hold him again.
🍂Feels almost ashamed that he likes it because he's the man, so isn't he supposed to be the one making you feel loved and cherished and safe?
🍂 Blushes when you prop yourself up on your elbow looking down at him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
🍂Will fall asleepy like that so quickly because its the safest he's ever felt.
🍂 He will however insist upon being big spoon at certain times of the month or when youre feeling unwell. He won't know how to deal with your period at all, he'll only know that youre more argumentative and that he has to be careful not to start a fight with you...
🍂 Doesnt like seeing you cry and you cry at everything when youre on your period so he will spend a lot of time hugging you close to him so that no one can see your tears. Leaves those long held kisses in your hair and you feel protected by him for as long as his lips remain pressed to your head.
🍂 Modern Arthur definitely gets embarassed about having to go to the shops for period pads, like, he definitely panics doesnt know what to buy, goes red, feels like he has to say something at the till even though he really doesn't need to.
John
🌼 Favourite way to cuddle you is to start by tackling you to the ground, play fighting or tickling you. Its like he can't just ask for a hug he has to play a game or trick you into it first...
🌼 Because he loves holding you and cuddling you and he loves kissing you too but he doesn't really know how to persue non-sexual affection without laughing it off and being unserious? The boy just wants a cuddle with his flower but he doesn't know how to ask because cuddling is "soft"
🌼 Definitely big spoon. Similar to Alfie, likes to have possesion of you, when youre wrapped up in his arms youre completely at his mercy and he can do whatever he likes to/with you.
🌼 Loves to tickle you and feel how with nowhere else to go you scramble and squirm further into his hold. And if he makes you jump even better because they you flinch and reach for something to hold onto, so you end up gripping his shirt or throwing your arms around his neck and clinging onto him just the way he likes it.
🌼 Isn't very good at tummy rubs alas, but thats because he can't get his head around the idea that pressing on your tummy when its sore, will help make you feel better "won't that just hurt more?"
🌼 Gives you lots of kisses though, will try to tease and tickle you to make you laugh and smile to distract you from the pain. I guess his cuddle style is playful.
🌼 Loves a naked skin to skin cuddle the best, likes to hold your bare body in his arms and draw patterns all over your skin as you fall asleep.
🌼 Lets you bite him very gently on the shoulder mid hug (one for the girls if u know u know)
🌼 9 times out of 10 cuddles with John lead elsewhere... Like, cuddling definitely puts john in a certain kinda mood
🌼 Oh you just wanted a nice sleepy cuddle? It might start off that way but after a minute or two of having his body pressed up against yours his minds wandered to... Places
🌼 Definitely does stuff like "got ur nose" just as you're drifting off and relaxing.
🌼 Surprisingly serious about your period, perhaps he wouldn't have been once, as a younger lad he'd have teased you or told you off for even telling him about that.
🌼 But he's a man now and he firmly believes real men need to take care of their woman, so he'll make sure you have everything you need. Will pretend to be embarrassed about having to go to the shops to get your period pads or whatever but actually doesn't care at all. He's only teasing you, trying to make you laugh at him by pretending to get really flustered about it.
🌼 His favourite thing to do is pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and then throw you down on the bed to cuddle you.
Bonnie
🍀 The cuddliest sweetheart you can imagine, always finding an excuse to give you a hug, always coming up behind you and making you jump when you're concentrating on something else, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your neck, kiss your shoulder, just rest his chin on your shoulder or have his cheek pressed against yours.
🍀Loves having you sitting in his lap and will always choose a table at the Garrison with not enough seats for everyone so that he has an excuse to pull you into his lap. Really does just like to have a hold on you at all times. Even if you're not talking or interacting in any other way. He just likes to be physically near you.
🍀 Definitely similar to John, play fights, chases around the house/fields always just as an excuse to get his hands on you.
🍀Always pulls you in for a hug when you first see eachother/say hello. Will give you the tightest squeeze and lift you up off your feet.
🍀Loves carrying you, your legs around his waist, you holding onto him nice and tight, dependent on him.
🍀Dreams dreams dreams of the day you've lots of wee kids to cuddle with, the five of you getting huddled up and cosy in mammy and daddys bed for a bedtime story.
🍀When its you and him all cuddled up in bed for the night he likes to either be big spoon or have you asleep on his chest, his hand resting on your back. He often gets worried about the home being broken into or an attack in the middle of the night so he feels most comfortable when you're right there sleeping as close to him as possible. Means he can know you're safe as can be and he can be there to protect you.
🍀Loves naked cuddles, skin on skin, legs tangled, feels so close and warm and intimate and he's so in love with you, so devoted to you that he craves that closeness and only feels complete when he has you in his arms and he can feel your heartbeats sinking up.
🍀Will hold you/spoon you all night!!!! You will wake up wrapped in his arms and if you need to get out of bed for anything in the night sorry but Bonnie will not be letting you go without a fight. Loves to hold your head burried in his chest.
🍀 Probably not phased by your period and if he is he isn't going to show it at all. Doesn't like you being in pain at all and he's very good at giving you back massages and tummy rubs. He also knows that theres another way to help with period pain and he isn't scared of touching you when its your time of the month. (Bonnie and Aberama are the only two peaky men I think would finger you when you're on your period tbh, tommy might but I'm not entirely sure?)
🍀 Modern bonnie sends you a photo of the period aisle at rhe shops because he's confused but determined to get the exact right things for you.
🍀 He's always lowkey dissapointed when you get your period because that means no babies
Isaiah
🐀I think it probably takes him awhile to get particularly cuddly and affectionate. For all I imagine he's a tactile, flirtatious playboy type, I don't think he knows how to just hug it out or have soft sleepy cuddle you know?
🐀You probably initiate most of the cuddles, and he always tries to pull away before you're ready too, so you have to grip him extra tight and put up a fight...
🐀But then he gets a taste for that, feels good how you practically beg him for just a hug... You always ask him "Saiah can I have a hug please?" because unless you tell him you want to be hugged he won't think to do it... But he LOVES hearing you ask for that. "Saiah I wanna hug" when you're tired and whiny. He sometimes denies you just to make you ask again. "Say please love..." "God what am I to you? A fuckin hug dispenser?"
🐀He's always big spoon, because he's a fragile masculinity adolescent... He hasn't grown out of the complex of needing to be the man, so he's always the one cuddling you... He won't ever let anyone think he enjoys all that soft shit...
🐀But when no one is around he's actually very cute and sweet to you. Nose kisses all the time. A secret fan of the penguin kiss (where u rub noses idk?)
🐀I think he learns to be affectionate with you over time and is cuddly but mostly only in private. You have mastered the "hug me" eyes now and if you get them just right and you sit there looking at him like that for long enough he'll say "Right.. You've brought this on yourself y/n" as if you're in serious trouble, then he'll march over and sit himself in your lap squishing and crushing you until you can't breath for laughing. Only then will he give you a proper hug - but the cuddles are worth the torment you have to go through first.
🐀As bad, if not worse than john on the horny cuddler front. Is genuinely so confused about how he's supposed to tangle you up like that, bundled up against his chest so that every part of his body can feel every part of your body pushing against him, and not get turned on... A nice peaceful cuddle can become pretty heated pretty quickly. He'll feign innocence (sometimes he won't and he'll just slip his hand into your underwear and take you buy surprise) all his little caresses and kisses seemingly innocent at first but really, not at all...
🐀When it comes to your period Isaiah pretends he's man enough not to care, he'll screw his face up all "ew no way y/n fuck no..." then crack a grin and make out like he was only teasing you, but secretly he feels really awkward about it and doesn't know what to do. He'll panic at the shop, get annoyed when he buys the wrong thing and you send him back. But he's trying, he wants to be a good boyfriend so over time he'll do his best to learn.
Michael
☘️ Secret cuddler...
☘️ You have to work so hard to get him to trust you but once you secure his trust (once he knows you aren't going to laugh at him or tell his brothers what a sook he is) he will reveal his soft side to you and oh my god is he soft
☘️ He loves cuddling and being cuddled. Bug spoon, little spoon, sitting in an arm chair, picking you up and swirling you round, carrying you to bed for more cuddles, having you lie on his chest, him lying on your chest (secretly his favourite way to cuddle) any cuddling at all, he loves it
☘️ But his favourite is definitely lying with his head to your breast, your hand in his hair maybe giving him head scratches or playing with his hair, your legs closed around his body so that he's completely secure. He could fall asleep here so easily. He loves it. Especially after a hard day at the office or when his cousins are being particularly demanding.
☘️ He loves to cuddle you too, loves being big spoon when you're naked in bed, likes getting to hold you anyway he wants. Your legs tangled together, perhaps one of his hands holding your hands, kissing your shoulder, your neck, between your shoulder blades. He loves waking up in that position after a nap, the two of you nuzzled into one another.
☘️ Isn't awkward about you getting your period as such, he doesnt think its gross but he's very concious of social taboos so if you come right out complaining about period pain or saying that you've accidentally bled on your dress he'll turn such a bright shade of red. You always forget and it always makes you laugh.
☘️ Gets annoyed when you tease him about it
☘️ Is very worried that youre in pain. Worried too that you'll lose too much blood. It takes a lot to explain to him that you're not going to bleed out on your period...
☘️ Tries to dote on you but gets overwhelmed by all the demands and the things you need. Because he's so worried about getting things wrong or upsetting you.
☘️Won't give good tummy rubs or massages because he's too scared he'll hurt you. Will run you a hot bath and wash your hair for you.
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lilahisntsadanymore · 6 months
Text
Engaged to an Italian man and carrying a secret pregnancy, Y/n must decide when and how to reveal the news to her notorious family.
The reader pronouns: she/her
Pairings: the Shelby family x shelby!reader x OC (faceclaim Lorenzo Zurzolo)
Words count: 2.4k
Tw: mentions of death, pregnancy, italian written by me (but there are english translations)
Additional inf.: Y/n's mother, was made up by me as well
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
A Shelby Surprise
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Now that the vendetta with Changrettas was over, everyone could take a breath. Finally all the stress was gone and for once the Shelby family wasn't in trouble. They hoped it would stay this way.
The stress was gone, but not for Y/n, Arthur's daughter. What nobody expected coming, she fell in love. What was so unfortunate about this? The man was Italian.
If it happened a few years earlier or a few years later maybe that would have been alright. But not right now when the memory of vendetta was still crystal clear.
The man Y/n fell in love with wasn't a Changretta, but she supposed it wouldn't matter to her family. As long as the vendetta was still a fresh topic, he would be a bad man in their eyes.
As if the problem wasn't big enough, Y/n got pregnant. The man knew about it and wanted to be present in the kid's life, he even proposed to Y/n. But the challange was to tell Y/n's family about it.
So there she was - calling each family member, inviting them for a little 'party'. Y/n had no experience in this stuff, so she considered it the best way, telling everyone at the same time when they're gathered together.
"It'll be fine," Y/n's fiance said, squeezing her hand lightly. "What's the worst that could happen? Will they murder me?" He laughed.
"You really didn't know what you're signing up for when you fucked a Shelby, did you?"
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Non voglio dirgli della gravidanza,"* Y/n paced around the living room, waiting for the guests to arrive. "What if we only tell them about our engagement?"
*I don't want to tell them about the pregnancy
"Non possiamo, cara mia. La noteranno prima o poi."**
**we can't, my dear. They'll notice it sooner or later.
Right after those words, the sound of knocking filled the room.
Y/n took a deep breath. "Hide upstairs, Nicco. I'll call for you when it's the right time."
The man walked in the direction she instructed as she herself went to open the door.
The Shelby clan. In front of Y/n's doors. Waiting to be let inside. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell everyone in the same time.
Despite her running heartbeat, Y/n tried to stay calm as she greeted each person that entered her house.
Something was off when Y/n hugged aunt Polly. The woman eyed her up and down. Did she know? Most likely. She sensed it when Lizzie was pregnant, so why wouldn't she now?
"You probably wonder why we've gathered here today." Y/n spoke, her gesturing more intense than ever. She tried to make her voice sound as light and free of stress as possible, but it was a difficult thing to do due to the anxious feeling in her stomach. Either the stress or the baby inside was making Y/n want to puke right there.
"Yes, we'd love to know." Polly said, a faint smile on her face.
Everyone had their eyes glued to Y/n. Ada watched the girl with worry, as well as Linda who treated Y/n as her own, Polly was fighting the smile from completely ruling on her face, Finn looked extremely confused, Tommy lit up a cigarette.
"Are you in trouble?" Arthur asked eventually.
"Yes and no." That answer didn't clear up anything.
"What do you mean?"
A nervous laugh escaped Y/n's mouth. "Do you remember mum? My mum, your wife, who died many years ago?"
Arthur nodded confusedly. How could he not remember her? He would never forget that amazing woman, who gave him love, hope and a beautiful daughter and then passed away too soon.
"I remember Georgia." Arthur didn't want to talk about her. Years passed and now he had Linda, but the wound caused by his first wife's death was still open.
"Dad, her name was Giorgia. She was Italian, don't try to rewrite that story. The reason why I'm reminding you about it is..." Y/n hesitated fr the last time, "I hope you'll understand my situation."
The times were different back when Arthur and Giorgia were together. Back then, she was just a simple girl who moved to England from Italy and fell in love with a man from Birmingham. There wasn't any vendetta, so their relationship wasn't such a sensitive topic, but nevertheless Y/n hoped her father would understand.
"Can you stop the charade?" Tommy chimed in impatiently.
Y/n nodded. "Niccolò, come here!"
The tall, brownhaired man walked down into the living room. He was dressed in a white shirt, black trousers and elegant black shoes.
"Everyone, this is Niccolò. Niccolò, this is my family."
Everyone eyed the man. Tommy and Arthur were especially suspicious about him.
Niccolò shook hands with each Shelby, taking the time to introduce himself better and get to know everyone.
When the man lastly got to Arthur and Tommy, they refused to shake hands with him, their arms remaining crossed on his chest.
Arthur looked at his daughter. "Why are you introducing him to us?"
"Seriously?" Y/n sighed. "Dad, are you this clueless?"
"Yes, Arthur, are you this clueless?" Polly asked with a full smile on her face now.
Arthur wasn't clueless. He suspected, he knew, but he didn't want it to be the truth.
"Niccolò is my fiance."
The room fell almost silent, if it wasn't for Finn's coughing. He choked on the air and smoke, he was lighting up a cigarette when Y/n broke the news. Finn was her uncle, but they were rather like siblings to each other, because Y/n was even a few years older than Finn.
"He's your what?" Arthur asked.
"Fiance. I'm sorry I haven't told you before, but I was afraid of your reaction."
"An Italian, eh?" Tommy interrogated, shifting his gaze to Niccolò. "Who are your parents? What do they do?"
Y/n added, "O digli il tuo cognome e lo scoprirà entro domani."***
***or say your last name and he'll find it all out by tomorrow
Niccolò smirked and the girl's comment, but then turned back to being serious. "They moved to this country before I was born. My father died in the war, but my mother has a flower shop in London."
"A flower shop?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "That's interesting."
"I see what you're doing," Y/n said, "Nicco has nothing to do with the Changrettas."
"It's just funny how he appears in your life exactly when-"
"Yes, vendetta, I know. Can we talk in private, dad?"
Arthur and his daughter walked out of the room into a small kitchen. Y/n leaned on the kitchen counter.
"Can you stop?"
"Stop what?" Arthur asked. "I'm just trying to get to know my future son-in-law."
"Can you do it without making it seem like you're looking for a correlation between him and the Changrettas?"
"I don't want him to hurt you. Or any of us. Isn't it any suspicious to you?"
"It's a stupid coincidence!"
Arthur sighed, looking at his daughter with a mixture of concern and skepticism. "Y/n, you know how things are around here. We've been through hell with the Changrettas, and now you bring an Italian man into our lives. You can't expect me not to be cautious."
"I understand, but he's not connected to the Changrettas in any way. I wouldn't put our family in danger like that," Y/n pleaded.
Arthur rubbed his forehead, contemplating the situation. "You could have at least given us a heads up. This is a lot to take in all at once."
He was trying his best to remain calm. The old Arthur would've bursted out of the house a long time ago, but now he was in control of his emotions.
A lot to take at once. Prepare for more, then, Y/n thought.
"I know, dad, but I was scared. Exactly because of that. I'm sorry, but we really do love each other."
"Just promise me, if anything feels wrong, you'll let me know. I don't want you keeping secrets."
"I promise, dad. I won't keep secrets. I want us to be a family, including Niccolò."
Arthur forced a smile. "Alright, let's go back out there. I'll try my best to keep an open mind, for your sake."
Poor Niccolò was left alone with the Shelbys. It was a weight off his shoulders when Y/n was back in the room.
Everyone looked at Arthur curiously. He spoke. "We'll give it a chance. But you," he pointed at Niccolò, "hurt her, and there won't be a place on earth you can hide from us."
Niccolò nodded respectfully. "I understand, sir."
"Can we all just enjoy the evening and celebrate this occasion that is our engagement?" Y/n asked cheerfully.
The atmosphere felt lighter, the family peacefully continued the gathering. Most of them wanted to trust Niccolò and give him a chance.
Arthur and Thomas kept a close eye on Niccolò throughout the night. Their suspicions weren't easy to put to rest, but for Y/n's sake they chose to keep their mouths shut this one time.
After dinner Y/n and Niccolò managed to talk to Finn alone. Y/n decided that the pregnancy would be too much for just one evening and all her fiance could do was accept it. However, they trusted Finn with this information.
"Finn, we have to tell you something." Y/n said after she made sure everyone else is busy.
"Oh no, another big news?" Finn whined. "I don't know if this family can handle more tonight."
"That's why we wanted to talk to you alone," Niccolò pointed out, "it's a secret."
Y/n added, "A secret just for you, Finn. The mission is to keep it until we can tell the others. You understand, soldier?"
"Alright, I guess." Finn agreed with a curious expression on his face. "You didn't kill anybody, did you?"
"No, of course we didn't."
"Quite the opposite," Niccolò added with a chuckle. "Y/n is pregnant."
Finn raised his eyebrow and joked. ""Engaged and having a baby... You didn't waste any time, did you?"
"Proposing is the right action to make once you knock somebody up," Nicco chuckled, "but seriously, it was actually planned."
Y/n giggled, "Life comes at you fast, Finn. Engaged and having a baby. We wanted to share the news with you first."
"Besides it'd be a lot to handle in one evening." Niccolò grinned. "We'll make the announcement in the right time."
Finn shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe you decided to put so much pressure on me!" He laughed. "Am I supposed to lie to Tommy and Arthur?"
"Like you haven't lied to them before." Y/n pointed out sarcastically. "They aren't going to ask you any questions."
As they headed back to join the family, Finn couldn't help but wear a mischievous grin. The rest of the Shelbys continued their celebration oblivious to the news.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
A few days later, aunt Polly paid a visit to Y/n and Niccolò, surprising the both of them. Despite the surprise, they couldn't not let her inside.
"I need to talk to Y/n," the woman said, "it's a ladies business. Be so kind, Niccolò, and find something to do for the next... half an hour."
Niccolò raised an eyebrow at the request but decided not to push it. "Alright, take your time, ladies." He grabbed his coat, a pack of cigarettes and walked outside.
Polly and Y/n settled into the living room, the air heavy with curiosity. Polly took a moment, eyeing Y/n.
"I know you're hiding something," the woman said, lighting up a cigarette, "and I wanna hear it from you. I'm giving you a chance here."
"Am I hiding anything?" Y/n tried to convinvnce Polly that she was wrong. But she knew the woman has been a little different recently.
Tommy and Michael thought she's starting to go crazy or maybe it's the alcohol that she seemed to be drinking a bit more often, but Polly knew she had been blessed. Blessed with the gift of contacting spirits, predicting certain things.
"Let's start from here. Are you keeping it?"
Y/n's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not gonna tell your father if you don't want me to. I was in your shoes once. I know a place, we will go there and-"
"Yes, I'm keeping it."
Polly smiled widely. "That's wonderful. Would you like to know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"We want it to be a surprise. Besides I don't think it's safe to do... whatever magic you do on a pregnant woman."
"It's not magic, my dear. You can't read cards or tea leaves for a pregnant woman, but I just sense it's a-"
"A surprise. Please, please, please, I really don't wanna find out yet."
"Alright... and now, why didn't you tell us? Any of us?"
"Wasn't that a little bit too much in too little time?" Y/n scratched the back of her neck nervously. "Didn't wanna add to the chaos."
Y/n decided to not mention the fact that Finn actually knew about it.
Aunt Polly studied Y/n for a moment before nodding approvingly. "Well, love, you've made your bed, now you have to lie in it. But I'm not here to scold you. I just want to make sure you're ready for what's coming."
"I know it won't be easy, but I'm ready. I have a husband, almost. I have a house. We can make it."
"Remember, you also have us. Me and Ada can certainly help you with the baby. I'm sure Linda will also love this new little Shelby."
"The baby isn't going to be a Shelby... I'll go with Nicco's last name."
Polly leaned back, taking a thoughtful drag from her cigarette. "Fair enough. But remember, secrets have a way of coming out, especially in this family. And when they do, it's usually in the most dramatic way possible."
"I'll tell the rest of the family soon... can you come with me to dad and Tommy? I'm a bit scared to tell them..."
"Of course, love. There's nothing you should be afraid of, you're a grown woman. When your mother was your age, you were running barefoot in my backyard."
Y/n smiled at the comment. "Thank you, Aunt Polly. I appreciate your support."
Polly stood up, stubbing out her cigarette. She gave Y/n a hug before heading to the door. "Now, take care of yourself and that little surprise of yours. And let me know when you're ready for me to do whatever 'magic' you think I do."
As Polly left, Y/n couldn't help but be grateful for the unexpected ally in her corner. She suddenly felt much more confident.
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book-place · 1 year
Text
Peaky Blinder Song
Warnings: violence, cursing, weapons, blood, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Growing up as a Shelby wasn’t always easy, but at least your siblings were always there for you
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: The Jet Song by the cast of West Side Story
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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When you're a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way
“Well, would ya look at that,” Tommy mused, the slightest bit of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke.
At his words, John and Arthur looked up from their breakfasts in confusion before following their brothers line of sight to where you were waddling into the room, one of their caps upon your head.
Arthur let out a booming laugh and scooped you up into his arms, playfully rubbing his mustache against your cheek, emitting giggles from you, “Would ya look at that!” He agreed.
“Where’d ya get that?” John asked, reaching up and gently shaking your foot.
You began blabbering to your older brothers, ignoring the fact that the hat had fallen into your face, covering your eyes. Arthur calmly lifted it up, seriously nodding as if he could understand a single thing that you were trying to say.
“Give ‘er here,” Tommy ordered gruffly, standing up and gently taking you from his elder brother's arms, eyes softening as you looked up at him with that toothy grin of yours, “What’re ya doin’?” He asked in amusement.
“I think she’s ready to be a Peaky Blinder, Tommy,” John laughed as the other man had to lift up the hat away from your face again.
“Is that so?” He asked teasingly, reaching out and ticking your stomach a little bit, “You gonna be the leader of the Blinders now, little one?”
Arthur laughed again, “We don’t need you anymore, Tommy, we’ve got Y/n.” He said jokingly.
“I think you might be right, Arthur,” He said seriously, “Looks like n/n can handle it from here.”
You began blabbering again after a loud laugh, making your brothers all chuckle around you.
“We’ve got our own little Peaky Blinder here.” John declared.
From your first cigarette
“Come on now,” Finn said impatiently, “Hold it for me.”
Without a word, you did as your brother demanded, taking the object in your hands and looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Finn Shelby.” The furious voice of your aunt made the boy tense up and freeze instantly.
“Polly,” He gulped, slowly turning around to face the woman.
The look on her face alone was enough to put him six feet under on the spot. He didn’t even want to think about what was going to happen to him.
“You better tell me right now why the hell my three year old niece is holding a cigarette, and if you don’t say that you found her like this, then you have something else coming for you.” The threat made him pale even further and his blood ran cold.
Oblivious to what was going on, you grinned up at your aunt, “Pol! Pol!” You cheered happily, dropping the cigarette and reaching your hands up to her.
Instantly, she stooped down and swept you into her arms, you snuggling closer to her hold without a second thought as your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed in contempt.
“What’s all the bloody racket in here?” Arthur inquired, stalking onto the room with Tommy following right behind.
“Your youngest brother tried handing a cigarette to your sister.” Polly didn’t once take her venomously dangerous glare off of the young boy.
By then, his eyes had begun to fill with tears, only for them to spring loose when the two older men’s heads snapped over to him.
“Finn,” Tommy spoke in that eerie stern voice that only he seemed to be able to master, “Is what she’s saying true?”
“I-I just wanted to be like you guys!” Finn sobbed openly, dropping his head into his hands, “I wanted to smoke and be like you!”
“And you though’ that makin’ our little sister hold your cigarette was the way to do that?” Arthur asked angrily, glowering at the boy.
He shook his head vigorously back and forth, “N-no!” He hiccuped, “I just had to do somethin’ so I needed her to hold in for a minute!”
“Oi!” Polly snapped in a harsh whisper, “Hush now, Y/n has fallen asleep.” She leveled a last glare at Finn, “We’ll deal with this later, young man.”
To your last dyin' day
A joyful laugh left your lips as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you down the alleyway.
True, Tommy and Arthur had told you to stay on the sidewalk where they could see you while you played, but it didn’t hurt to go for a little run to see how fast you could make it back.
Now five years old, you were constantly getting into mischief, reminding Polly too much of how the boys were when they were little.
You hadn’t been looking where you were going, your gaze was turned up towards the brightly lit sky, so you didn’t see the person standing in the middle of the alley until you ran right into his legs.
Stumbling slightly at impact, you quickly fell onto your backside with a small ‘oof’, a stinging sensation quickly making its way through your body from the pavement.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” A malicious voice snarled from above you, causing your head to snap up with wide eyes.
The man whose legs you ran into was sneering down at you from the end of his greasy nose. And to you, he looked downright terrifying.
“I-I’m sorry Mr,” You mumbled with wide eyes, slowly crawling backwards, “It was an accident.”
He shot you a sinister smile, slowly stalking towards you, “Was it now?” He hummed mockingly.
Your head bobbed up and down as you nodded desperately, “It was, I swear it was!”
The man shook his head softly and clicked his tongue, “Now, I’m findin’ myself not really believing you, girl.”
You could feel your face pale even more at his words, “I’m sorry!” You tried again, panic swirling in your stomach. This man scared you, and you didn’t like it.
“Listen here, you little-“ He snarled, storming over to you and snatching your arm in a bruising grip and squeezing while dragging you to your feet, making you cry out in pain.
“What is going on here?” Despite the deadliness of the calm in his voice, you still sagged in relief the second you heard Tommy speak.
“Nothin’ to worry about, Mr. Shelby. Just takin’ care of this little bitch.” From the way he spoke about you, it was clear as day that he didn’t know who you were.
“Is that so?” There was no mistaking the flash of complete rage that appeared on your brother's face, “And what does my baby sister have to do with that?”
If you thought your face had been pale before, it was nothing compared to how the man looked when all the color drained from his face instantly. He let go of your arm, stumbling away as if having been burned by the contact of your skin.
As soon as you were free, you scrambled over to Tommy, hiding behind his legs and burying your face into his coat that hung near your head.
“M-Mr. Sh-Shelby,” He immediately began begging, “I-I swear to god I didn’t know who she was-“
“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.
“Listen- listen, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never would have done that if I had known-“ Tears had begun cascading down his cheeks.
“But ya did, didn’ ya?” He questioned rhetorically, “And now you’re gonna have to pay the price for messin’ with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”
A hand reached out and touched your shoulder and you flinched away immediately, not having heard someone approach. Whipping your head around, you were met with the sight of Arthur, holding his arms out to you.
After one glance at Tommy for confirmation, you grabbed onto your eldest brother's hand and followed him out the alley. When you tried to look back, Arthur simply turned your head away and quickened your pace to get you out of there.
Silence carried on in your absence for a moment, Tommy letting it drag on until the man looked like he quite literally was going to suffocate from it.
“Did ya see that?” He asked quietly, taking slow, menacing steps towards the man, “Did ya see how jumpy she was after what ya did to her? How she flinched away from Arthur?”
“Please, please- I’m begging you-“ The man had quite literally backed himself into a corner, his head frantically whipping around to try and find a way out.
“You scared my little sister,” He carried on, “You hurt her. And something like that… is unforgivable.”
Arthur closed the door to the house particularly loudly just in time for a gunshot to go off, silencing it slightly from your ears.
When you're a Jet
“What’d ya want?” Harry asked jokingly, leaning over the counter of the Garrison so he could look at you, “A drink?”
You giggled loudly at his words and shook your head, “Polly says I can't be drinkin’ anything from here yet!” You replied with a wide grin.
“Now, is that so?” He tapped his chin as if thinking about it, “I suppose your aunt is always right, though, ain’t she?”
You nodded your head in agreement, swinging your legs back and forth from the barstool you sat at.
“Oi!” John called, coming sauntering out of an office in the back, “Ya better not be lettin’ my little sister drink!” The smirk that played at the ends of his lips let you both know he was joking around.
“Nah!” Harry shook his head, “I tried to be cool and let her, but that little rascal is a rule follower, she is.”
John laughed loudly at that, reaching over and ruffling your hair, “That don’t sound like my sister.” He teased, “She don’t ever follow no rules.”
“She sounds like a certain group of boys I know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.
“Now, what’re you insinuating?” John leaned back against a table and placed his hands in his pockets, “That she's actin’ like us Blinders?”
“I think so,” The man reached over and playfully flicked your nose, making you laugh so hard that you almost went tumbling off the stool.
“Okay, alright, that’s enough now.” John quickly lowered you to the ground, not trusting you not to fall off anymore.
“Imma Blinder!” You cheered, giving your brother a toothy grin.
He laughed, bending down and scooping you up, “Yeah, I suppose ya are.”
If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around
“Yer nothin’ but a stupid little kid,” A boy a couple years older than you, about Finn's age, sneered down at you, his raised voice attracting the attention of the other students in the school yard.
Despite the tears that began to collect in your eye ducts, you glared at him, not backing down, “That isn’t true!”
Even though he was way taller and bigger than you were, you stood your ground. That is, until he gave you a shove back by the shoulders and you went sprawling to the ground.
He had been picking on you for having mud on your clothes after playing with a couple friends outside before school and even though you tried to walk away, he just wouldn’t leave you alone.
The crowd that had gathered around gasped when you hit the ground, clearly not expecting it to escalate that quickly and your cheeks turned red.
“Hey!” None other than Finn Shelby had pushed his way through the sea of kids with a glare set on his face that resembled that of your brothers.
“What do you want?” The kid rounded on him, glaring down at your brother, who was still at least a head shorter than him.
“That’s my sister.” Finn informed him through gritted teeth, as if the boy didn’t already know.
You sniffled slightly, scrambling up and making your way over to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “It’s okay, Finn.” You mumbled, “Let’s just go.” You didn't want either of you to get into any trouble.
He just shrugged off your hand though, sizing the boy up before reeling his arm back suddenly and without warning sent it flying into the boy's nose.
Almost instantly afterward, two teachers surged through the crowd and quickly pulled the two boys apart, the one that had been picking on you now crying and holding his nose.
You and your brother had to sit in the principal's office until one of your siblings or aunt showed up, the house having been called for one of them to come pick you up.
Not too long had passed before Tommy made his way through the door, demanding and controlling aura in tow.
He ignored the staff that tried speaking to him, immediately turning his attention to the two of you, “What happened, eh?” He demanded sternly.
“I saw this kid push Y/n,” Finn jumped up to explain, “So I punched him in the face! Just like you and Arthur taught me to!”
Your older brother's eyes quickly flickered over to you, giving your body a quick once over to ensure that you were alright.
“Okay,” He spoke before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving behind a stunned teacher and not turning back to see the two of you scramble up to follow.
After walking to the car, he opened the door and waited for you two to get in before sliding into his own side. He didn’t start the car though, just turned to you.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, to which you nodded your head, “Lucky Finn was there, then, eh?”
“I could’ve hit him too,” You insisted.
His lips quirked up, “I know, but it’s still good to have some backup sometimes.”
You were silent for a moment before turning to Finn, “Thank you for helping me.”
“He didn’t have the right to push ya,” He grumbled while leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
You're a family man
“Game night! Game night!” You cheered, sprinting into the living room before diving head first onto the couch.
“Mind your head,” Polly scolded, “Don’t need ya hittin’ it too hard that we have to end up takin’ ya to the doctors.”
“But it’s game night!” You cheered, falling backwards onto the couch with a large grin overtaking the entirety of your face.
“Did somebody say game night?” Arthur’s voice boomed into the room before he even entered it, with a smile that could be heard through his tone.
“I did!” You chorused back, “And I’m going to beat all of you?”
“Is that so?” John strode into the room with Tommy and Finn following close behind.
“Uh huh!” You agreed, turning your face as serious as you could make it in order to try and get your point across.
“Hmm,” John tapped his chin and pretended to think, “That's weird, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I was the winner of the last game night. Not you.”
You pouted at him, crossing your arms, “Well, I’m gonna beat ya this time!”
“Ya think so?”
“I know so!”
Arthur chuckled at your words and even Tommy softened a bit at the interaction.
You're never alone
“T-Tommy?” You called out hesitantly in the darkness, voice wavering as you spoke.
The man’s eyes immediately snapped open and he shot up, hand flying out to grab the gun that was kept under his pillow, “Y/n?” He echoed back, squinting to try and make you out through the dark room, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I-I had a nightmare,” You admitted in a whisper, shuffling your feet and toying with your fingers.
His entire being immediately sagged in relief, fingers loosening around the weapon once he realized that you were in no physical danger. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew how much of a danger dreams could be, how they could affect one’s mind.
“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, scooting over in the bed to make room, lifting up the blanket like an invitation.
You wasted no time before plunging onto the bed, cuddling up to your brother's chest, “Thank you,” You murmured shyly.
“No, need to thank me, sweetheart,” He mumbled, dipping his head so he could place a kiss on the top of your hair.
It was silent for a moment, and Tommy would’ve thought you had fallen back asleep if you hadn’t spoken up with an embarrassed whisper, “I know I’m eight now and I’m supposed to be a big girl, but it was really scary, Tommy.”
He let a small sign fall from his nose as he tightened his arms around you, “There’s no such thing as being too old for nightmares, sweetheart.”
You pulled away and looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”
He hummed, “I get them all the time.”
Your jaw was on the floor by then, “You do?” Never in a million years would you be able to picture your strong big brother having a bad dream.
“I do,” He repeated, “Do you want to talk about yours?”
Immediately, you shook your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso to the best of their abilities.
“Okay, alright,” He mumbled, leaving another kiss on your head, “You can go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything get you.”
You're never disconnected
You had no idea where you were. You spun around in circles but still couldn’t pinpoint your own location.
Earlier in the day, you had insisted to your brothers that they bring you to a marketplace that was in town, and they reluctantly relented and brought you. But now you couldn’t find them and the panic was starting to set in.
You gasped, whipping around when you felt a hand on your shoulder and were met with the sight of an unfamiliar man.
“Let go of me!” You demanded immediately, squirming out of his hold.
He raised his hands automatically, backing away from you, “Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You didn’t scare me,” You grumbled.
“Hey, it’s alright. I work for your brothers.” He reassured you, but even though it was supposed to comfort you, it only made you even more suspicious of him.
Slowly, you took a step away from the stranger, ready to make a run for it, when the sound of thundering footsteps made you turn to your right, all your brothers rushing over to where you were.
“Oh, thank god,” John mumbled, coming to a stop and running a hand down his face when he saw you safe and sound.
“Daryl,” Tommy greeted, clearly knowing the man, “I am now in your debut. Thank you for taking care of her.”
The man, Daryl, tipped his hat to Tommy and shot you a playful wink, “‘twas my pleasure, boss. Just lucky I was in the area and saw her before anyone else did.”
You're home with your own
“You’re doin’ it wrong!” You insisted with a whine, bringing your foot down and stomping against the floor once.
“I’m following the directions!” Finn snapped back, “How am I doin’ it wrong if I’m following the directions?”
“You ain’t, though! You’re addin’ too much chocolate chips and not enough flour!” You were beginning to lose your temper with your brother.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t see the problem with havin’ any extra chocolate.” He tried to reason.
You dropped your head to the counter with a groan, “We need to make them special! We can’t do that if you don’t follow the recipe.”
Finn seemed to contemplate it for a moment before rolling his eyes with a sigh and beginning to undo what he had done, “Fine, we’ll follow your borin’ cookie recipe.”
“What’re you two doing?”
You both shrieked and whipped around at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Tommy, who had a single eyebrow raised in your direction.
“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.
“No!” You shrieked, reaching over and slapping his arm, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”
The boy scowled, reaching up to rub the sore spot of where you had hit, “Not much of a secret, anyone could see what we’re doing.”
Tommy looked amused by the scene before him and put his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step out of the kitchen, “Just act like I wasn’t even ‘ere.”
You eagerly jumped on the opportunity and began shooing Finn back to what he was supposed to be doing to prepare the dessert.
When company's expected, you’re well protected
Tears silently ran down your cheeks as Polly held you close with a hand resting over your mouth, keeping you from making any noise to notify anyone of your presence.
A group of men had broken into your house while your brothers were out on business and began ransacking it. Your aunt had pulled you into a closet with her as soon as she had gotten wind of what was happening and hid the two of you behind an old pile of jackets.
“Shh, hush now,” She whispered as quietly as possible into your ear, “It’s alrigh’. We’re gonna be alrigh’.”
The walls muffled the exact words being spoken by the group of men, but you could still hear their voices and the sounds of their footsteps getting nearer and nearer to your hiding place.
“-thought you said the kid and old lady were still here,” You heard one of them grunt, meaning that they were a lot closer than before.
Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.
“They are, I’ve been scouting outside this place all day and neither one of them has left.” A new voice shot back.
“Check the closets,” A third voice said, making you whimper softly.
Just then light poured into your small space, temporarily blinding you the second the door was roughly thrown open. Polly was quick to move you behind her, using her body as a shield against your own.
“I found them-“ He was cut off by the sound of multiple gunshots going off at once that automatically made your ears begin ringing, making it near impossible to hear anything else.
Slowly, you tried to peek around your aunt's body, but she quickly pushed you behind her once more, “Don’t look.” You could barely make out her words over the constant ringing.
“Giver ‘er ‘ere, Pol.” A voice- Tommy’s, you think- spoke through the haze, and you were carefully passed into the arms of your older brother, who maneuvered you in such a way that you couldn’t see the body’s that lay scattered all over the room, your other brothers standing over them to ensure that the job was done.
“You’re alright,” He whispered soothingly in your ear, striding out of the room with you as you desperately gasped for air and gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline, “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha now, I’ve gotcha.”
Sure, you’ve had scares in the past- it came with the line of work your family was in- but nothing compared to the heart gripping terror you experienced for the first time that day.
Of course, your family saved you just in time, though. Just like they always did.
Then you are set with a capital J
“Well, don’t you look fancy,” Arthur commented as you happily skipped into the kitchen.
You giggled a bit with a nod of your head, moving past where he and John sat at the table to grab and apple from the counter.
“What’s the occasion?” Your other brother piped up, glancing up from his own breakfast.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes teasingly at the two men, “I don’t need a reason to dress up,” You informed them, “I’m going to school! All the girls dress up now at school!”
John’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, and you’re doin’ what all the other girls are doin’ now?”
A hum left your lips as you floated over, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks before joyfully leaving the room.
Tommy entered just as you were leaving, receiving a large bear hug from you before you continued on your way, singing a song quietly to yourself.
“I don’ think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be goin’ to school.” The man commented.
“Tommy… I’ve just had an awful realization,” Arthur looked up at his brother with wide eyes, taking his little brothers raised eyebrow as a sign to continue, “I thinks n/n is growin’ up.”
“And what makes ya say that?”
“She’s goin’ to school all dressed up becuase it’s what all the other girls be doin’ now,” Arthur was talking with a horrified look on his face, “And I don’t like it, Tommy.”
The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, “She’s just dressing up a bit, Arthur, it’s not the end of the world. You can start worryin’ when she comes around talkin’ about boys, eh?”
“Boys?” Arthur paled even more, “I didn’ even think of that part.”
Which you'll never forget ‘til they cart you away
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” John asked softly, worry painting his features as he immediately dropped onto the couch next to you.
You had your head in your hands and tears were falling down your cheeks when you looked up, startled by your older brother's presence. You hadn’t thought anyone was home.
“John,” You immediately moved to wipe your tears away, but he gently caught your wrists, halting your movements.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again, making sure he was looking you in the eyes as he spoke.
You sniffled slightly, shrugging harshly and trying to avert your gaze from his.
“Y/n,” He prompted, “I just wanna help ya.”
A sigh fell through your lips and you realized that it wouldn't hurt to just tell him, there was nothing he could do to change it anyway.
“A couple girls were making fun of me in school today.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as you spoke, “I was called on for a question on the homework and I got it wrong.”
His eyebrows set in a furrow, “So they made fun of ya for it?”
You nodded tearfully, biting down on your lip and dropping your head in defeat.
“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, gently taking your chin and moving it so you were looking at him again, “Wanna know what I want ya to do?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, “I want ya to go back to school tomorrow and show those girls exactly who they’re dealing with.”
It was then your turn to allow your eyebrows to dip in confusion, “Who?”
“You.” A smile tugged at his lips, “You’re a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nobody gets away with messing with one of them.”
You smiled now, tears having stopped springing from your eyes, “I’m a Peaky Blinder.” You repeated.
He grinned, reaching over ruffling your hair affectionately, “And don’ ya ever forget it.”
When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet
“Happy Birthday,” Tommy smiled one of his rare, real smiles with an even rarer twinkle in his eyes, “I hope ya like it.”
You were finally fourteen, and your whole family was gathered around the living room to celebrate, passing gifts upon gifts into your arms.
A gasp escaped from your lips as you opened the lid to the box and peered inside, “I-it,” You choked out, “It’s wonderful.”
You gently placed it to the side and sprang forward, throwing your arms around your brother's neck and bringing him in for a tight hug.
“All right, all right,” He said playfully, “Try it on now.”
Carefully, with the rest of your family gazing at you in wonder, you took out your very own Shelby family, Peaky Blinders cap.
Something that looked much like a distant memory flashed over Arthur and John’s faces instantly the second you placed it upon your head.
“Do ya remember when-“ John began, and Arthur nodded.
“When what?” You echoed in curiosity, looking at a nearby mirror and adjusting your new present.
“When the last time you wore one of those, it was too damn big for your own head,” Arthur laughed loudly at the memory.
Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”
You looked over your shoulder and gave them wide grins, causing their hearts to squeeze tightly at the deja vu they were getting from seeing you like that.
When you're a Jet you’re the top cat in town
“M-Miss. Shelby,” A store owner stuttered out as soon as you opened the door to his bakery.
“Morning, sir.” You greeted kindly, having learned a long time ago not to take his fear to heart. No matter how nice you tried to be to people, no one was able to see past your family name. And oftentimes, you wouldn’t even complain.
“I- I have some freshly baked cakes!” His eyes widened at his own realization before quickly scrambling into the back and coming back less than a moment later with the treats in hand.
You shot him a smile, picking them up after he slid them along to counter towards you before reaching for your pocket for some money.
“Oh, oh no, Miss. Shelby.” He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”
A frown pulled on your lips, “But, sir-“
“It’s the least I could do,” He insisted, “Please, just take it.”
Hesitantly, you nodded before thanking him and making your way out of the store. Of course, this wasn’t even the first time something like this had happened to you or any other one of your siblings.
While you found it slightly worrisome, Finn found it downright hilarious.
You're the gold-medal kid, with the heavyweight crown
“Hey, oi, Johnny boy,” Arthur whispered, making the man look up from the newspaper in his lap, eyes following to where his older brother had inclined his head.
He felt a smile slowly grow on his face when he realized what he was looking at.
You were cuddled up between some pillows under a blanket on the couch nearby to them with an open book in your lap and your head dropped lazily to the side, having fallen asleep while reading.
“Should I wake her?” Finn asked mischievously from his seat beside John, who reached up and gave the boy a good whack on the back of the head, “I was only jokin’.” He grumbled.
“Let ‘er sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Besides, she looks so peaceful right now.”
When you're a Jet, you’re the swingin'est thing
“I will push you in, Finn Shelby, don’t test me,” You warned as the two of you walked side by side on a bridge that hung a couple feet above the river.
The boy snickered, playfully shoving his shoulder against yours, “I’d like to see you try.”
A wicked glint settled in your eye, but it was gone before Finn could have been able to see it.
Deciding to wait until he let his guard down again, you allowed a few moments to pass in silence as you walked side by side, pretending to study the water.
Then, without giving him so much as a slight warning, you used all your force and sent him flying into the water down below.
You were holding onto your stomach and doubling over while cackling by the time he resurfaced, jaw dropped and a look of betrayal on his face, “Look whatcha did!” He complained.
“Oops,” You giggled before making your way over to the edge and sticking out your hand to help you up, feeling only a little bit bad about what you did.
He swam over to you and took your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out like you thought he would, he yanked down on it hard, sending you toppling right after him into the freezing water.
You gasped as soon as you resurfaced, and he was now the one laughing at the look on your face, “That’s what you get!” He cheered.
Glaring at him slightly, you hit your hands against the surface, sending a big wave straight into his face.
He sat there, frozen for a moment, before slowly turning to face you fully and splashing you right back in the face.
Little boy, you're a man, little man, you're a king
You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face as soon as you sat down at the table. All around you, your brothers and aunt chatted loudly amongst themselves whilst enjoying the first dinner you had all together in a couple of months.
“What’s got ya smilin’ over there?” Tommy asked from beside you.
“Just really happy that we’re all together right now,” You replied without so much as allowing your smile to falter.
His lips twitched upwards, “Yeah, me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777
2K notes · View notes
zapreportsblog · 9 months
Text
↳ simple woman ↲
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✭ pairing : arthur shelby x reader
✭ fandom : peaks blinders
✭ summary : arthur shelby is love with the simplest woman to exist and people wanna know just how he got so lucky
✭ authors note : so this one won’t be as long as my usual ones, definitely a good stroll down but nothing over the top :)
✭ peaky blinders masterlist
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The Garrison pub was alive with the familiar hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Arthur Shelby sat at a corner table, a contented smile on his lips as he exchanged words with his wife, (Y/N). The dim lighting cast a warm glow on the faces of the other Shelby family members gathered around.
"Arthur," Michael called, raising his glass in a mock toast. "You're a lucky man, you are."
Arthur's eyes flickered with amusement, his years of bristling at such remarks replaced with a newfound ease. He chuckled, a genuine sound that resonated through the air. "Aye, I suppose I am."
Beside him, (Y/N) grinned, a twinkle in her eye. "Aren't you just full of compliments tonight?"
The room erupted into laughter, the tension that used to hang thick between the Shelbys slowly dissipating over time. Arthur had changed, mellowed by his experiences, and the camaraderie within the family felt more genuine than ever.
Finn leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "How did you two end up together anyway?"
Arthur exchanged a knowing glance with (Y/N), the memories of their journey flashing between them. "Well, lad, that's a tale for another time," he said, a hint of mystery in his voice.
“Oh come on; humor me!” Finn whined.
“Fine, fine, let’s see..”
“I fell quite hard for (y/n) upon meeting her,” begins Arthur.
“Really?!” Finn questioned eyebrow raised.
“Aye lad that I did -“
“So unoriginal,” cried Finn.
“Aye shut up you git and let me tell my tale,” clearing his throat he begins once more. “As I was saying I fell quite hard for my darling wife here upon meeting her, literally at that. Son of a bitch tripped me,” Arthur says gaining laughs from all around him.
He himself couldn't help but chuckle at the memory.
**Flashback:**
The bustling streets of Birmingham were a familiar landscape for Arthur Shelby as he strode with purpose, his mind absorbed in the day's affairs. The rhythmic click of his boots on the cobblestones was his own personal symphony of authority, and he paid little mind to the world around him.
But fate had other plans.
Without warning, his foot caught against a shoe, sending him stumbling forward. His heart raced as his hands flailed to steady himself against a nearby lamppost. A sharp hiss of breath escaped his lips as he fought to regain his balance, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
From the shadows, the snickering of children reached his ears, their laughter grating on his temper. His sharp gaze darted toward the source, ready to deliver a harsh reprimand that would leave the young troublemakers in no doubt about who they were dealing with.
However, his words were stolen away as his gaze fell upon the one responsible for the laughter. A young woman stood there, arms crossed over her chest, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. (Y/N), as he would later come to know her. Her eyes sparkled with a glint of mischief, and her posture held a level of confidence that left him taken aback.
"That's what you get for not watching where you're going," she quipped, her tone dripping with amusement.
For the first time in a long while, Arthur was rendered speechless. He was accustomed to being in command, to issuing orders and having people follow them without question. But here was a woman, a stranger, speaking to him as an equal, and in a manner that he found both infuriating and intriguing.
As the echo of her words hung in the air, Arthur's chest heaved with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. His jaw clenched, torn between his instinctual anger and the realization that maybe he had met his match.
The children's snickers had faded into an expectant hush, their attention fixed on the unexpected standoff. Arthur's pride battled with the faintest flicker of respect for this woman who had dared to challenge him, to strip away the veneer of authority and reveal a man vulnerable to his own missteps.
For a few more heartbeats, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange of wills. And then, as if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, (Y/N)'s smirk softened into a genuine smile. "You alright, though?" she asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.
The tension in the air eased, and Arthur cleared his throat, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine."
(Y/N) took a step closer, her eyes crinkling at the corners as if she found this whole situation highly amusing. "Good. Next time, watch your step."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Arthur to contemplate the unexpected encounter that had both unsettled and fascinated him. He watched her disappear into the crowd, his thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
As he continued on his way, Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that he had just crossed paths with someone who would challenge him in ways he hadn't experienced before. And as the memory of (Y/N)'s smile lingered in his mind, he realized that sometimes, even the simplest moments could lead to the most unexpected connections.
The encounter with (Y/N) lingered in Arthur's mind long after it had occurred. He found himself strangely captivated by her confidence, her quick wit, and the audacity to stand up to him. It was a feeling he couldn't shake, even as he went about his business as a Shelby.
Days turned into nights, and Arthur's thoughts often drifted back to the young woman who had dared to trip him and speak her mind. He found himself searching the crowded streets of Birmingham for glimpses of her, his footsteps sometimes taking him down unfamiliar alleys in the hopes of stumbling upon her once more.
One morning, driven by an inexplicable pull, Arthur set out earlier than usual. The sun was barely cresting the horizon as he walked down a familiar street, his gaze scanning the crowd for any sign of (Y/N). It was as if an invisible thread connected them, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her in a way he hadn't experienced in a long time.
And then, as if fate had conspired to answer his silent plea, Arthur's gaze landed on a familiar figure. There she was, (Y/N), standing near a street vendor with a bagel in hand. Her attention was fixed on the pastry in a way that suggested she was savoring every bite.
His heart did a peculiar leap in his chest, and before he could think twice, Arthur approached her. "Fancy meeting you here," he said, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
(Y/N) looked up, her eyes widening in mild surprise before she swallowed her mouthful of bagel. "Well, well," she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "If it isn't the man who can't watch where he's going."
Arthur chuckled, feeling an odd sense of camaraderie in her teasing. "I was just looking for an excuse to bump into you again."
(Y/N) arched an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of intrigue and amusement. "And you found me while I was indulging in a bagel. How charming."
**End of Flashback**
“Wait so how did you two end up together?” Finn asked.
Taking a sip of his drink Arthur begin another tale, “Let’s see, when I went to ask her out on a date she immediately rejected me.”
“Wait what?!”
“Yeah, that’s right I did” (y/n) giggles leaning her head over to lay on her husbands shoulder. “I didn’t like his tie.”
“Fucking rejected me over a goddamn tie.”
**Second Flashback:**
Arthur Shelby's determination to find (Y/N) grew with each passing day. He had become entranced by the enigmatic woman who had tripped him and challenged his notions of authority. It was as if an invisible thread connected them, drawing him to her like a moth to a flame.
One afternoon, his steps took him down the same familiar street where he had first stumbled upon (Y/N). His heart raced as he spotted her near a small cafe, sipping a cup of tea. Summoning his courage, he approached her, his palms slightly sweaty.
"Mind if I join you?" Arthur asked, his tone carefully casual.
(Y/N) looked up from her tea, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes before she gestured to the empty seat across from her. "Go ahead."
As they exchanged pleasantries, Arthur felt the weight of an unspoken question hanging between them. He took a breath, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "Listen, (Y/N), I've been enjoying our conversations. Would you maybe consider going out on a date with me?"
There was a moment of silence, and Arthur held his breath, waiting for her answer. He watched as (Y/N)'s gaze flickered, her expression thoughtful. And then, to his surprise, a smile tugged at her lips.
"Actually, I'd rather not."
Arthur felt the air leave his lungs in a rush, his surprise evident. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I... I'm sorry?"
(Y/N) leaned forward slightly, her eyes dancing with mischief. "It's your tie," she said, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and sincerity.
"My tie?" Arthur repeated, his brow furrowing.
"Yes," she affirmed. "It clashes with your suit."
Arthur blinked, completely taken aback by the reason she had given. He looked down at his attire, his tie indeed a mismatched pattern against his suit. He had never been one for fashion, but the fact that his tie was the reason for her rejection left him utterly speechless.
Seeing his surprise, (Y/N) laughed, a sound that was both musical and infectious. "I have a thing for ties, you see. And if we're going to be seen in public together, I can't have that eyesore on my arm."
Arthur found himself laughing despite his initial disappointment. Her candidness was refreshing, and he couldn't help but be charmed by her straightforwardness.
"You know, I can change my tie," he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, her expression teasing. "Oh, really? Well, maybe then we can talk about that date."
And just like that, the air was charged with a shared understanding, a connection that had transcended an initial rejection. Arthur realized that he had found someone who could match his wit and challenge his expectations, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of a tie that met (Y/N)'s standards.
As they continued to chat, Arthur couldn't help but think that sometimes, even the smallest details could lead to the most unexpected and entertaining interactions.
**End of Second Flashback**
“Heh, I can definitely see her doing that.” Thomas chuckled taking a sip of his whiskey.
“So when did you know that she was the one for you?” Finn questions once more.
“When she rocked my shit,” Arthur let’s out a heartfelt laugh that reached downwards and pulled at his stomach muscles.
“Aye, I got one mean right hook,” flexed (y/n).
**Third Flashback**
The Garrison pub was alive with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversations. Arthur Shelby sat at a table with (Y/N) by his side, their laughter mingling with the atmosphere of camaraderie that permeated the establishment. They had been dating for a while now, and their connection had deepened into something Arthur couldn't quite put into words.
As the evening wore on, the jovial atmosphere was interrupted by a crude comment from a man at the bar. His gaze lingered on (Y/N) for a moment too long, and a lewd grin spread across his face. Before anyone could react, he reached out and slapped her behind, a smug expression on his face.
The air grew tense as Arthur's eyes darkened with anger. He clenched his fists, his temper simmering beneath the surface. (Y/N)'s gaze met his, and he could see the fiery determination in her eyes. She wasn't about to let this slide.
Without a word, Arthur pushed back his chair and strode over to the man, his presence looming over him. "I'd advise you to keep your hands to yourself," he growled, his voice a low rumble.
The man sneered, his bravado undeterred. "What's it to you, mate? She doesn't seem to mind."
Before anyone could react, a punch was thrown, and chaos erupted. Fists flew, tables toppled, and the once-friendly pub transformed into a battlefield of clashing egos.
Amidst the melee, (Y/N) held her own, her moves fluid and calculated. She delivered a swift kick to one man's knee, causing him to buckle, and then ducked under a punch aimed at her. She spun around, landing a powerful strike that sent another man reeling.
Arthur's rage fueled his strength as he traded blows with the aggressor. His punches landed with precision, the violence of the fight a stark reminder of the world he inhabited. He caught sight of (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, her face a mask of determination as she fought alongside him.
As the brawl continued, (Y/N) engaged in a rapid exchange of punches with a particularly formidable opponent. Her moves were fluid and fierce, a testament to her strength and resilience. However, in the heat of the moment, a sudden duck from her opponent led to a collision of her fist with Arthur's jaw.
The impact caught Arthur by surprise, causing him to stagger back. Blood welled in his mouth, and for a moment, his shock overshadowed his anger. He spat out the blood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze locking with (Y/N)'s.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The chaos of the fight faded into the background, and all Arthur could see was (Y/N), her fierce determination mirrored in her eyes. He realized that this was a woman who could not only hold her own in a fight but also challenge him in ways he had never anticipated.
The thought echoed in his mind as his focus shifted back to the brawl. With renewed determination, he squared his shoulders and reengaged with the man who had provoked the fight. The two of them traded punches with a ferocity that seemed fueled by a shared fire.
As the brawl finally began to subside, Arthur's knuckles bloodied and his breath heavy, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride and affection for (Y/N). They had fought together, not as two separate individuals, but as a united force against adversity.
When the last of the brawlers had been subdued and the tension began to fade, Arthur turned to (Y/N) with a mixture of awe and amusement. Bloodied and bruised, she was a sight to behold, her fierce spirit shining even in the aftermath of the fight.
With a wry smile, he reached out to wipe away a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "You always did know how to make an impression."
(Y/N) chuckled, her gaze meeting his with equal parts mirth and warmth. "Just returning the favor, love."
In the midst of the chaos and the camaraderie, Arthur Shelby couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection with the woman by his side. As he gazed at her, his heart pounded with a realization that cut through the chaos: he was going to marry this woman.
**End of Flashback Three**
“And from that point one, (y/n) and I been closer than ever” finishes Arthur.
260 notes · View notes
red-riding-wood · 1 year
Note
Hi! :) first of all, I love your blog and your writing is amazing!
I'm obsessed with peaky blinders for years now and i would love to request a fic about arthur shelby (cause he's my comfort character :') is it possible that you write a fic/imagine about him and a younger female reader (in her early 20s) that had a traumatic past and as a result resorted to unhealthy coping mechanisms (hurting herself, drinking,.etc.). Arthur and her are dating, he gets more and more protective over her cause he wants to keep her safe and as they get more intimate with each other (smut) and he notices her scars etc., he tries to make her feel more comfortable by praising her. So a mix of feelings, smut and a slight power dynamic (arthur is more dominant/caring and the reader is a little insecure). I hope that makes sense!
Also, if the topics make you uncomfortable/you don't like to write about said things, i can totally understand that you turn my request down. :)
~sending you positive vibes ! ♡
Ruined
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moodboard by @shelbydelrey
Arthur Shelby x F!Reader I Peaky Blinders
Warnings: smut, mentions of self harm and scars, allusions to past sexual assault, angst, reader has body issues
WC: 2415
AN: Thank you so much for the request and the support, anon! It means so much to me and I'm SO sorry it's taken me so long to get this written. You've been in my thoughts a lot and I hope you're doing well! Actually was holding onto this one for a little while, too, because I didn't think the smut was very good, but I'll give myself a break because it's been a while since I've written anything spicy. Also, apologies for cutting it short; it was getting to be quite a long oneshot. I hope you like it!
---
“He wasn’t even looking at me, Arthur.”
“Nah, Y/N, you didn’t see him. I’ve seen enough bad men in my life to know he was up to no good,” Arthur disputed, aggressively hanging his overcoat on the rack.
You sighed, and closed the gap between the two of you; your hands went to the stubble of his cheek, and you sought his gaze with your own.
“Arthur,” you said, softer this time. “Just because I…” Your words hitched in your throat, your tongue bound from speaking of the assault as if admitting it would make it real. “… just because I’ve been hurt in the past doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”
Under your touch, he settled, if only slightly; it had been proven, time and time again, to tame the beast inside him. But his chest still heaved, and with a gentle finger you wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“Arthur,” you said again to ground him, as his gaze began to wander anywhere but your face. “I hate seeing you like this, picking fights everywhere you go.”
Sometimes you wondered if you had made him worse. Ever since you’d started dating the eldest Shelby brother, he’d found more and more excuses to punch or bludgeon whoever looked at you the wrong way. Though your touch may have soothed him, your existence only stoked the fire that burned bright in his damaged soul.
“What am I supposed to do, then, eh?” he said, exhaustion working its way past the thorns of his tone, and his forehead brushed yours, unruly locks of brown hair tickling your lashes. 
You inhaled his scent – the sharp spice of his aftershave, the sweat of his ire, the musk that was so uniquely him that you couldn’t help but feel at home each time you breathed it. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you cocked your head at him slightly as an idea formed in your head.
“Maybe some kind of…” You drew a finger from his jaw down the bare of his chest before it disappeared beneath his shirt, and you swallowed as your heart beat faster against your ribs. “… physical therapy?”
Winter-blue eyes clouded in lust, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat. Despite seeing him for a while, the two of you hadn’t gone all the way yet, but it wasn’t that you didn’t want him, or didn’t trust him. You had always been afraid that, when he saw the scars on your flesh, he would discard you for another young woman who didn’t ruin her body.
Ruined, indeed, you thought, with a bitter jolt in your chest. Your eyes lowered from his winter blues so that he wouldn’t see the self-hatred in your eyes.
“Now, don’t tempt me with that, love.” His breath fanned the hair from the side of your face as his hand slid from your shoulder down to your hip. “That somethin’ you want?”
Repressing your anxiety and your sullenness, you drew closer to him, pressing yourself against the heat of his body as you tried to formulate a verbal response.
“Hm?” His fingers tipped your chin back up to look him in his eye.
You nodded, biting your lip as your hips connected and you felt him hard beneath his trousers.
“Yes,” you breathed.      
“C’mere, then,” he growled playfully, his hands scooping your legs up. You wrapped your thighs around his waist for balance, and you chimed out a giggle as he carried you to his bedroom.
Though you knew he tried to be gentle, he practically threw you down on the bed, but you didn’t mind. A puff of air escaped your lungs and you sank into the mattress, your head spinning and heat pooling between your legs. Your pointed toe ran down his waist, not wanting to part from him even for the seconds it took for him to shed his shirt. You tried to prop yourself on your elbows to get a better look, biting your lip. A grin stretched apart his lips as he looked down at you, undoing his belt. And he said, with that gravel in his tone that you’d come to adore,
“Going somewhere, love?”     
You shook your head, but you managed to sit up, your breaths cast across his navel as you looked up at him from bright, playful eyes. “Not without you.”
Your fingers ghosted over his, knuckles rough against the softness of your palms. They stilled, and you pried them from his belt, your index slipping between the hem of his trousers and the heat of his flesh, your heart skipping a beat when you felt the coarseness of his hair.
Arthur’s breath hitched in his chest as you rose, on your knees, to place kisses along the ridge of his collarbone, tasting his sweat on the tongue you dragged down his clavicle to the center of his chest. An animalistic groan rumbled beneath your lips as you cast his belt aside and tugged the buttons from his trousers.
“Seems I’m not the only eager one,” he rasped as his fingers wove through your hair, seeming to light a trail of fire from the nape of your neck to your scalp and sending a shudder through every nerve of your body. For a brief moment, you stiffened, the sensation of his fingers tightening around your hair familiar to you in a way that had once been most vile but, in this moment, you were most ashamed to find thrilling. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t pulling as hard, and that at any moment if you asked him to stop he would. You reminded yourself that this time it was Arthur. And it was okay for it to feel good.
Heat suffused your cheeks at his words, and you cast a small moan just above the hem of his trousers, having worked your way down in loving kisses. His hand loosed from your hair, and his other came around to tilt your chin back up to look at him, hair flopping in front of those lustful eyes and the light of the chandelier framing his head in a halo, like he was some kind of fallen angel.
“As I much as I want you to continue…” he said, voice coming out ragged. “… I want to see what we’re dealing with.” His fingers ran along the outline of your breasts beneath your shirt, another shiver passing through you as his thumb brushed a pert nipple.
“I want to see you, love,” he said, thumb dragging down to the lip of your breast, your heart rate increasing the further he explored. You wanted to sit still, and be a good girl for him, but the pounding in your ears and the clamminess of your palms just wouldn’t subside.
You shuddered this time out of fear, that jolted through your veins, intense and cold and criminally contrast to the heat that inundated every other fibre of your being. But you hid it well. How could he had known he’d just traced over a scar you’d never shown him?
Your stomach twisted as you wondered what he would think when he saw them… all of them. And while you wanted nothing more than to be laid bare before the man who owned your heart and your soul and who deserved your body, and you wanted to give him it, you also couldn’t help but wonder, what if he thought you were ugly? What if he thought you were ruined?
And in that moment you scorned yourself for ever laying a blade to your thighs, or your stomach. You hated yourself for ruining something you could never have back, something that would’ve been beautiful had you not squandered it, time and time again.
“Arthur.” Your lip trembled, and your hands were shaking as they left the hem of his trousers. You panted out your breaths, your head even lighter than it had been before. And on your lips you could taste the words you yearned to say, to tell him why you ached so badly to do this but feared so cruelly unveiling a gruesome body that he did not deserve.
But all that came out was, “I’m scared.”
Something in his eyes softened at that, and any trace of his grin vanished as his weight sank into the mattress beside you. His hands were on you, but not in a frightening way; one ran across your trembling back and the other rested reassuringly on your thigh. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, as if it would vanquish any trace of fear or doubt that made your body tremble with such pitifulness. As if it would cleanse your impurities and make you whole again.
Arthur’s words seemed to catch on his tongue, and a flicker of his own uncertainty darted through those winter blues. “You’re not… scared of me, are you?”
“No, Arthur.” You cupped his cheek in your hand now, forcing his gaze to yours, even if yours was brimming with unshed tears. “I want you. And I trust you. I just…”
I’m ruined.
The words froze before they could even reach the back of your tongue, instead strangling your throat, your eyes bugging wide as you swallowed against them. All the while, Arthur’s gaze dragged solicitously across your face, and this time, he was the one to press his forehead to yours, his fingers tangling gently in your hair and rubbing soothingly along your back.
“Y/N,” he said, his heavy breath tangling with your short, frenzied ones. “So long as you ain’t scared of me, you don’t have to be scared of anything. I’m going to take care of you.” His lips dragged to your neck, placing a gentle yet firm kiss along your clavicle. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, love. Just let me take care of you.”
A soft moan stirred from your lips as you felt the heat of his lips on your neck, and your heart pounded in your core. Physically, you had never felt so conflicted, but his words, they were all you needed to hear. You trusted him, and that was what was important. Whether or not you deserved to be taken care of, that was a whole other demon, but Arthur Shelby had a way of making you want to submit to his every whim, to let him do with you as he pleased. This was how you would take care of him.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” he said.
You licked your lips, and said, “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
His hands lowered you to the bed, his stronger, sinewy frame looming over you and making your heart pound wilder in your chest. You licked your lips again, mouth dry, and swallowed back your fear as you felt his fingers begin to undo your blouse, revealing more of you until you were certain he could see what you had so desperately tried to hide. But his kisses were trailing between your breasts, and you helped shrug the garment off as he was absorbed in his work. Had your heart not been beating so fast and had your stomach not been turning so much in fear of what he would soon discover, you would’ve enjoyed the attention a lot more.
And there it was. He hesitated, the bristle of his moustache lifting from your skin and a hot breath exhaling across the scar, still fresh, still burning from the other night.
Your heart practically stopped.
“Y/N…” he breathed, the stubble of his chin brushing your skin to indicate that those blue eyes were on you. You peered back at him reluctantly, expecting horror in those eyes.
And they were filled with adoration.
“Is this what you were scared about, love?” he murmured against your stomach.
“Yes.” Your breath came shattered from your chest, still not quite able to believe your eyes.
For a moment longer, he held your gaze, with a pity you weren’t sure you wanted, but a love that eased your frenzied heart. And then, saying nothing, his lips brushed the scar ever-so-gently, as if to pay it reverence, and though the wound stung, you didn’t care in the slightest.
He still wanted you.
Once he had spent time on the first scar, he let his lips trail all across your stomach, with a surprising tenderness, his fingers gripping your hips tightly but in such a way that felt as if you were safe within his touch. He laid kisses across older scars, that had been slashed across your stomach, and as his lips grazed the lowest, you rocked your hips against the bulge in his trousers, drawing a moan from him and casting it hot against your belly.
“Don’t stop,” you murmured. “Please don’t stop.”
“Y/N, you’re fucking perfect. Have I ever told you that?”
“No,” you laughed, a tear pricking your eye but your anxiety and your tension all dissipating in wake of the sensations that the heat of his lips and the firmness of his hands and the tickle of his moustache sent racing along your skin.
“Well, you’re fucking perfect,” he said, as he pulled your skirt from your waist, and you helped kick it off, your legs instinctively crossing over to shield the scars along your thighs.
He seemed to notice this, and cast you a reassuring look before prying your knees open with strong fingers, and saying, “I’m going to have my way with every bit of you, love. Gonna kiss you everywhere because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had in my bed.”
Your head rolled back into the sheets as he began kissing and running his hands along your inner thighs. Chapped only slightly, his lips were hot as hellfire but soft as heaven as they explored each scar in a way you never had. In a way that was loving rather than shameful.
“Arthur,” you moaned, bucking your hips impatiently as his lips fell in the crook of your thigh.
“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, coming up between your legs and cupping your cheek in his hand.
A streak of a playful grin pulled at your lips, and you whispered, “Fuck me.”
That devilish grin that you knew so well plastered itself across a handsome face, and as you felt him shift his trousers down, he murmured into your ear,
“Told you wouldn’t have to worry, love. Because if that wasn’t the plan for even a goddamn second…”
---
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scorpiussage · 1 year
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Peaky characters with a SO who’s bubbly/cheerful
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🌕Tommy
🌕He’s honestly as surprised as everyone else that he fell in love with someone with such an opposite personality to his. 
🌕Being with someone so happy and upbeat helped him forget about the war and reminds him of when times were simpler. As he would say, they help keep the shovels away. 
🌕It would be a big shock at first for anyone that knows Tommy when he starts dating you, and his brothers have a moment where they genuinely wonder if Tommy is playing a joke. But no, it’s real and I think those early days would be the hardest for the two of you in the relationship. Just navigating all the confused reactions would really test Tommy and you both. 
🌕But if the relationship lasted through that, it would be a solid one. 
🌕Polly loves you, thinks that having someone so cheery is good for the man. 
🌕The cheeriness doesn’t rub off on him, but he does loosen up a bit when you’re alone. 
🌕Also, if anyone tries to make fun of you, he will shoot that shit down immediately. Will absolutely ride or die for the one he loves and would become murderous if someone made you sad. 
🌹Alfie
🌹He absolutely loves how happy and carefree you are. That was what drew him to you initially. 
🌹He’d been having a shit day, Ollie had fucked an important order up and his sciatica was acting up. He’d gone up to the actual bakery front of his distillery to check on things, and there you were. You’d greeted him with the most incredible smile and chirped a happy ‘Hello!’. He was a goner from that moment on.
🌹Would do anything for those sunshine smiles and will literally kill anyone who makes you sad. 
🌹Some people get annoyed with bubbly personalities, they tend to not be able to keep up with the energy, but Alfie loves every moment of it. 
🌹He also gets a kick out of seeing the jaw dropped expressions of other people when they meet you and they see this bright, cheerful person with him looming just behind. 
⚡️Michael 
⚡️Knew you before he’d become aquatinted with the Peaky Blinders and you were a person he’d not been able to let go of. 
⚡️Becomes incredibly protective of you and refuses to let any one besides his mum meet you. 
⚡️Obviously that’s not a long term solution and Tommy and gang do eventually meet you. Michael would puff up and try to crowd you to his side, and fierce glares would be sent over your head to warn off the Blinders. 
⚡️He’d relax eventually, though, once he saw you getting along with Ada and John. He just doesn’t want you to become corrupted like he has. 
⚡️Once he became more involved with Blinders business, he might push you away in an effort to protect you, but he’d never really be able to let you go. You’re his light. 
💥Arthur 
💥He really uses your personality to ground himself. Everything since the war has been chaotic and terrible and having someone who is just happy makes those storm clouds go away. 
💥He loves taking you out on the town and showing you off. He takes you to all the newest clubs and fanciest restaurants; places he thinks that you can really stretch your wings. 
💥If Tommy or John try to make fun of you, he’ll knock their teeth out. Ain’t no one talks to the person he loves like that. 
💥Overall, a bubbly person is a good match for someone like Arthur. He tends to match energies of the people he’s with and if he’s with someone happy, he’ll be happy. 
🌞John
🌞This man will either bring out the best of your personality or the worst, there’s no in-between. 
🌞He’s a bit like a kid, has lots of goofy energy and likes to just let loose all the time. If he’s with a bubbly person, that person will also have to have some sense of responsibility too. Because if you don’t, you will just fuel each other’s energies until it’s a whole mess. 
🌞You are a very expected person for John to date, it wouldn’t be very surprising. But, it might surprise people just how protective he can become of you at the drop of a hat. 
🌞One of the lads at the pub made some snide comment about you and John had snapped. Cut a smile into that man’s face and threatened to kill him if he so much as a thought about you ever again. 
🌞Tommy and Polly both genuinely fear what will happen if you two have children together. God help them if your kids have your personalities haha. 
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Angel of Birmingham ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader
Summary: Before he meets Tommy Shelby, Alfie gets the pleasant surprise of encountering the lovely Angel of Britain, and from then on, he swears to always protect her from all the dangers of the world.
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If she were to ask herself who was the first to call her that - That undeserving nickname - She’d have to guess it might have been Arthur. He always had a way with words without realizing, and it all happened when they were children... More or less, considering she is closer to John’s age than his, and she would patch him up after fights and whatever marks of ‘good behaviour’ he got from playing around.
Seeing how great she was at taking care of him and his brothers, Aunt Polly suggested she tries to become a nurse or something. She saw potential in the little girl. Intelligent, charming, beautiful and pretty damn innocent. She shouldn’t stay too close to their dark side, it may taint her, and neither of the Shelbies wanted to see her upset. She was too much of a ray of sunshine and they desperately clinged to her and her kindness.
In the bleak midwinter.
But the girl was also highly ambitious and she didn’t want to settle with being a simple nurse - No, she wanted more. More and more and more. She was smart, she was greedy and she was a conqueror.
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
Until they received a beating sister with death and they suddenly opened their eyes towards the Godly truth in front of them.
She was going to become the only surgeon in Birmingham and she will succeed without a doubt, despite her young age.
The Shelbies already had connections with some important people so it was easier to deal with uncooperative people who dismissed her for being a woman and didn’t even look at her amazing knowledge and skills.
For a while, she had to be away and work in the London’s hospital as she studied medicine, despite her very young age. She hated being alone from her family and her second family, as she always called the Shelbies, but despite her timid personality, she still made some pretty good friends, albeit with the nurses, as most of the girls didn’t have the right connections and the money to bribe their way so high-up the medical field.
For now, that is. Y/N wanted to change the world. She aimed high and jumped higher. With the right money and influence, things will change. She was sure about that.
It was all going splendid for her, until the First World War began and her three Shelby brothers were enrolled - She was desperate to keep them home, but she knew she couldn’t.
So the next best thing was to go with them.
She was a doctor and they needed war doctors to take care of the wounded, so of course, she was accepted without a second thought.
She had to go to Verdun and to Somme, and she had to see so many people being brutally taken away from life - Bombs, gunshots, wails of anguish and despair, fear, cries, agony and shivers.
If Y/N could describe war with a single word, it would be simply ‘Hell’. 
There was no better word to describe it, without a doubt, and an angel in hell always gets her wings burnt horrifically painfully.
She prayed day and night for her three brothers to be alive and well by the end of all this, at least physically, since mentally, she knows neither of them will be the same, that’s for sure.
And this hell went on for four agonizing years that went by, day after day, at an alarmingly lethargic pace, as if time and space were enclosed into a continuous loop of no return, a dark void from which they will never return.
But they did.
And when they did, they were welcomed with hugs and kisses and lots of love from their families...
Yet they reciprocated with a dead look in their eyes.
They died in War, and this was just a second attempt at living, like a dead man roaming the world again.
The worst that happened was Tommy getting shot during his tunneling, but Y/N made sure he would be treated properly, and yet, there was one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how perfect her healing skills were, and that is to erase their mental and emotional pain and all the nightmares and PTSD they had to suffer from.
She tried to stay strong for them, to smile and be radiant as before, to try to take away some of their unseen pain, to talk to them, to sooth them... God knows they needed it. 
She would crawl in Tommy’s bed at forsaken hours and hold him tightly whenever he’d wake up screaming in fear, afraid that the shovels will breach through the walls and he’d get shot again, and she’d talk to him, reassure him and tell him he’s not there anymore and nothing will get to him again, she will protect him from any danger, and her wings were there to shield him.
She would leap out and hug Arthur from behind, dragging him away from murdering or fatally beating more men who looked at him the wrong way, so he wouldn’t lose control of his mind and body again, and she will shoo everyone away while she holds him and lets him cry out his fear and stress and pain.
And John... Poor John... Ever after being home, he was still in a state of shock, and he was so confused, and would look down at his hands, trying to wash them so much that he got burns and irritation, only to get rid of the ocean of blood that he created by killing hundreds of men, and witnessing a thousand more.
And yet...
There was nobody there for her.
Nobody to hold her down whenever she wanted to lash out into hysterics and tear everyone apart limb from limb. There was nobody there to reassure her that she didn’t fail anyone for not managing to save the man split in ten pieces after falling prey to a bomb. That there was nothing wrong with taking lives as long as you protect your own. There was nobody to reassure her during a nightmare or embrace her protectively whenever she’d flinch, jump or panic from the louder noises or frequent gunshots all over Birmingham.
She needed a change. She was going further down and down, spiraling into the horrible abyss that the bottomless pits of anguish and torment she was succumbing to, and she knew that, no matter how much she’d smile and say ‘I’m alright’, she’d only drown deeper into her darkest despair.
And that’s how she chose to cope with all her pain. Work herself into exhaustion, study, practice, work, learn - Do anything but sleep or stay idle - As long as her mind was preoccupied with different things, there was no way she’d recognize her downwards descend into hell.
Thus, with continuous work, gunshot threatenings and more influence and bribes, she managed to become the Head of the Birmingham hospital, as the only capable surgeon in the city.
But now that she achieved this, she needed something new. She couldn’t fall into platitude, or she’d go insane. She constantly needed stimulation, because if she relaxes, even by a little, she will remember she is a human being with human emotions and that’s when shit will hit the fan hard, and she was afraid that was the point of no return.
So she extended her influence in London, went to conferences, met new people and ironically, the big hospital was close to The Angel and Camden Town and she became sort of an administrator - section chief around, so she could organize every patient and treatment the way she wanted. Everyone reported to her.
She was Britain’s Angel.
Things were going very well for her, she got a lot of money, people loved her, she was neutral with all the gangsters, mafia, police and every normal peasant or royalty - Healing did not discriminate against any social criteria made by the higher ups - And she had a very lovely, small house and a beautiful flower garden, a lovely maid who helped her keep things tidy, a decent car ( although she preferred walking ) and a few dogs to keep her company.
Another day, another struggle to keep on going. Y/N got up, drank her morning tea in peace while listening to the gramophone. She combed her long hair, letting it cascade down her back, completely disregarding the fashion of the Roaring ‘20s, and went to look at her wardrobe. She chose a black turtleneck thin blouse with high-waisted black pants, a pair of leather boots, some accessories and an elegant trench coat which she wore over her shoulders. It was Spring, so it wasn’t truly cold enough to dress warmly, but not hot enough to wear a sundress either.
The most peculiar thing happened while walking to the hospital - She heard a groan of pain from a dark alley and going to investigate, she saw a fair haired man whose white shirt was stained with red.
“Is it yours?” the woman asked him as she carefully stepped in front of him, completely disregarding the two dead bodies from the ground.
“Some o’ it. Most o’ it is theirs, poor fellas.” he tilted his head to the side left and right, almost comically.
“Fairs. Let’s get you to the hospital, I’ll treat your wound. Free of charge, of course. Let the state pay for something for once.” she chuckled lightly, extending her hand for him to take - To accept her proposal.
“Who are you, Miss? I don’t recall ever seein’ you ‘round. A new nurse from the hospital?” he asked as he almost skeptically stepped by her side, following her.
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Y/N... I’m sort of the head of the hospital nearby. And, uh... I’m a surgeon.” she grinned at him serenely, almost as if to defy and shock him by his previous assumptions.
“A woman doctor, aye? Now that... That’s top. How’d ya do that? I thought they didn’t accept women at University ‘n such.” despite his words, he seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t mocking her.
“Well... Yes, not wrong. And I want to change that. Hmm, how do I explain this without scaring you away... I’m a pretty smart cookie I guess!” her laugh was crystalline and lovely, and if weren’t for the pain from the bullet he took, he would have laughed as well rather mirthfully.
“That you are, lass, I’m sure.” he grunted as he nodded, a bit robotically.
“Ah, we’ve arrived. Before we go in, are you from a mafia gang or something? Some social... Political... Something? It’s not that I care, but I have to put people in different wings for their own good, you know?” she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers a bit.
“I’m not sure I understand, lass.” he raised his eyebrow, analyzing the soft-spoken woman, trying to understand her intentions, whether they were good or bad.
“Well... My hospital accept everyone, you know? But at the same time I don’t think most people want to be rooming with coppers. Or... I know there are some gang wars around... Italians and Jews I think, or something like that. To put some Sabinis and some from Solomons’ gang in the same room, I not only fear for their lives, but also for the good of the rest of the patients and my hospital, you get me? That’s why I at least have to ask. Who knows, maybe I have some of your peers around for you and you can chat and feel better together.” she shrugged at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared like that by him.
“Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Let’s go to the Jews, right? Y’got some o’ those, don’t ya?” he asked, following her as he watched her smile and greet sweetly every person she was walking past.
“Oh yes, of course. Yesterday came a boy called Oliver... Oh, I mean Ollie. He gets upset when I call him by his full name. And there’s this one called David. They said they work for Alfie Solomons, so I put their occupations as bakers. Would you like me to do the same for you as well?” she asked as she hurried inside the room and asked where he would like to stay, and thus preparing the bed.
“Ye even got flowers ‘round ‘ere. This looks more like a home than a hospital if y’ask me.” he chuckled softly as he let himself fall down on the bed, taking off his shoes.
“Oh, yes! Studies show that if patients feel welcomed and are well taken care of, they have higher chances of recovering at a much faster pace. I wanted to test this theory, so I made a contract with the flower shop down town to always bring me flowers. Isn’t that lovely?” she smiled sweetly at him, which rendered the man speechless and in awe.
“Boss, what happened?!” suddenly, Ollie’s worried voice resounded through the room as he leapt from his bed, by the mysterious man’s side.
“Just some dead fish, don’t you worry, lad.” he downplayed his injury as the woman watched the wholesome exchange between those two.
“Oliver - Uh... Ollie, I mean, forgive me. I have to extract the bullet from Mr. Solomons’ body. I will have to ask you to please not worry, I promise to save him, okay?” why was this woman so sweet with everyone? Was that how a doctor should be? Or was she just some exemplary woman?
“...Alright, miss...” the boy muttered, dejected as he watched the woman leave the room, no doubt to get the right equipment for the extraction.
“Honestly, lad, you worry like some maiden. Let the girl do ‘er job.” the Jewish boss chuckled reassuringly at the tall brunet boy.
“She’s no girl, Mr. Solomons. She’s Britain’s Angel. Haven’t you heard o’ her?” Ollie went to sit on the boss’s bed, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“That’s ‘er? Really?” Alfie’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quite understood now why she earned the reputation.
“Aye! She grew up with the Peaky Blinders and their influence and bribes got her into University, but she’s like super smart! I ‘eard they call her Angel or somethin’, especially after her services in the War. Can you believe that?! A woman voluntarily enrolling into war?! That’s insane, who’d want a free ticket to hell?!” Ollie’s voice became a bit higher as he gossiped with his boss.
“Someone who wants to protect her family.” a feminine chuckle broke the conversation as the two Jews snapped their heads towards the entrance, seeing her casually leaning back on the wall, looking at them with an amused expression, mock-reprimanding. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to gossip?”
“Sorry, lass. This one has quite the chatter mouth to him! ‘e just can’t seem to ever shut it!” his over the top gesticulation, among with Ollie’s shocked expression made the girl hide her mouth to laugh as she shook her head and pushed the tray with the needed instruments to Alfie’s bed.
“True. If he didn’t call you Boss, I wouldn’t have known who you were, Mr. Solomons. Now, I would have to ask you to let me unbutton your shirt so I can begin the procedure. It won’t last long, and with the local anaesthesia, you won’t even feel a thing... For the most part, at least.” she chuckled awkwardly as she sat down on his bed, smiling calmly at him.
“Nah, lass, no fancy ana-thingy, I want none o' that. Ain’t gonna get some drugs to put me down. I’ve been through this before in war, right, and ya didn’t have anaesthesia in war either, so that’s that.” as he said those things, he immediately noticed the smile disappearing from her face as a dark look flashed before her eyes that used to sparkle with fake happiness.
“It’s local anaesthesia, it won’t make you sleep. Besides, I used cocaine in war. It still works. Don’t be like that, Alfie. Please.” she seemed to almost desperately want to use that numbing solution for some reason.
“Why do you insist on going against your patient’s wishes, miss doctor?” he challenged her, narrowing her eyes, as if he was trying to peer into her mind.
“I can’t stand people’s raw cries. You heard Ollie. I’ve been to war, but a part of me never returned home. If I can do something to absolve the pain from someone, I’m gonna do it, whether they like it or not.” her dark voice seemed to make a complete 180 from the sweet one from earlier.
“Do you do the same with coppers too, lass?” his light question, as he unbuttoned his shirt, came as a begrudged agreement to her proposition.
“Nah. I just hit them over the head with a bottle of alcohol. Works every time.” her devious, vague smirk made him wonder whether what she was saying was true or not.
“Now that -- I really wanna see that, right. Would’ya call me next time you gotta do that?” Alfie chuckled as he attentively watched her gently wipe the blood from his skin.
“It’s usually a spontaneous decision, really. I get impulsive too, sometimes, you know? I’m not perfect. But, should the time come, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an audience that would be pleasantly surprised by my act of aggression.” she smiled softly as she carefully administrated the novocain around the area where he got the bullet.
“So where’d ya serve?” he asked, as the girl encouraged him to talk and get his mind away from the procedure.
“Somme and Verdun. I asked to be deployed as close as possible to the Shelbies... I’m sure you got that by what Ollie just told you. Y’know, the tunnels Tommy dug and all that? Wasn’t fun. And you, Alfie? ... Ah, actually, forgive me, I shouldn’t address you so casually without asking for your permission, I got ahead of myself. You can call me by my first name too. I prefer it that way, kinda. It’s more casual and light-hearted.” she chuckled awkwardly - Alfie realized she wasn’t the best at social interactions. He wondered if this was just how she was, or it was a post-war effect.
“No, s’all right, ya can call me Alfie, no problem. I was a Captain in war, right, I was a Captain and I led tons of lads to their death, yeah, but we killed more than we got killed, so that’s that, I guess. Meddled with gas’n’bombs’n shit like that.” Despite trying to keep things light hearted, he noticed the upset look on her face.
“As long as you’re alive, anything is justified.” She muttered, more to herself than to him as she started poking the area under anaesthesia to see if it got numbed down properly.
“Oi, lass, how about I tell you a story, aye? ‘S pretty funny, I reckon.” He suggested, seeing as she smiled softly and nodded at him, putting on her gloves, ready to extract the bullet old-school.
“Sure, Alfie, I’d love that.” She gave him a quick look as he fingers dug inside his wound, making him flinch.
“So, this happened during war, right. My regiment had some nasty Italians around, and they pissed me off so fucking much, yeah. Well, I tell ya, I once carried my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” He used one of his hands to gesticulate wildly, as if to keep her engaged in the story whilst he grunted from the discomfort and pain he felt as she rummaged inside his wound.
“Ohh, the Italians. This is going to be a very good story, I’m sure. What did you do?” her smile widened slightly as she felt the bullet shards and started extracting them one by one, putting them on a napkin until they all formed a complete bullet.
“Listen, Y/N. Listen, right. I pulled his face up against the train and shoved a 6 inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it on with a duct board, aye.” As he told his story, Y/N had to turn around and slouch a bit, unable to contain her laughter.
“Oh my God, Alfie, that was horrible!” but despite the words used, she just laughter harder.
“It was fucking biblical, lass, I tell ya!” his voice went a bit higher, as he started chuckling as well.
“Okay, okay, say that again, but this time slower. I-I want to imagine – To, to get a better image of this in my head. “ no matter how much she tried to hide her laugh, she couldn’t, which only fueled his wish to amuse her.
“So, this fucking margherita bastard came to me and started throwing around those cross fingered hands back and forth like he wanted th’ gouge my eyes out o’ somethin’. Just! Like! this!” Alfie started aggressively mimicking the Italian hand gestures as the girl had to put down the needle and thread from shaking so much.
“G-Go on!” she encouraged him quickly.
“Yeah, so, listen, I grabbed him by the fucking head, yeah, and I saw this bigass nail, like this big, and shoved it up his nose, y’know, like the fuckin’ Egyptians hooked the brain out through the nose, right, with the mummies and shit.” He had no idea why, but he really enjoyed making her laugh like this.
“I think I’m getting a nose bleed just by imagining this!” she covered her face entirely as she swung left and right from laughing so hard.
“He’s leaning back on the train now, yeah, and he’s hazy like he’s fuckin’ high on pepperoni or some shit, and I see this board just layin’ there on th’ ground, innocently, begging to be used somehow. So I pick it up nicely, yeah, I pick it up and SLAM it into his face. Once. Twice. Thrice. More. Dunno how many times, until I can’t see the nail anymore… But I guess, by then, he didn’t really have much of a face anymore, kinda just became a jam pancake or somethin’.” The girl needed a few minutes of laughter to calm down and wipe her eyes from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, I haven’t laughed so hard in my entire life. That was wonderful. I-I have no words. I can’t… I can’t… Okay, I’m good now, I’m good. But don’t say more stories, I won’t be able to sew up your wound if I laugh like that again.” She grinned at him, grabbing the needle and thread.
“Fine, lass, fine, I won’t say more stories today. How about you say one, then?” the Jew leader smirked at her with amusement.
“O-Oh, uhm… I-I’m not exactly the funniest person in the world, you know. Actually, I’m not even sure I know what to say. I’m a horrible conversation maker.” She chuckled nervously, as she continued to make knots and stitch the wound.
“Doesn’t matter, anything works, really! I just wanna hear an angel speak.” Mr. Solomons was truly an amiable one.
“Well, alright then, let me think. So, I think you’ve heard already of the Peaky Blinders and how there are quite a few Shelby siblings, yes? Well, they used to have a baby cousin, before he was taken away by some nasty coppers and put in foster care. I was also pretty young back then, but I remember Arthur used to throw baby Michael out of the window repeatedly for either John or me to catch. Mind you, it wasn’t the ground floor.” She chuckled lightly, remembering the stupid kid things they used to do before the war, when life was so simple.
“Really, now?! Poor lad, must’ve grown up with some serious height fear!” Alfie barked a laugh.
“That’s one thing. John put him in a shoe box and kicked him down Watery Lane. Sometimes when cars were passing by too. It was insane, really, growing up with them. But it was fun. If you ignore the copious amount of times we got in trouble and almost died.”  She mused, finishing the procedure and applying some marigold ointment before bandaging the wound properly.
“Thanks, lass, that was quite the experience. Well, I’ll be off then, I won’t bother you anymore, yeah.” He said, trying to get up, only to quickly get pushed down on the bed.
“No! You need to rest and get better, as well as that, you can’t do effort or brusk movements or you risk breaking the stitches.” She explained as he saw worry in her eyes.
“Let’s compromise, alright lass? I’m these guys’ leader, yeah, I’m the leader, so I can’t stay here, I ‘ave to go home’n all that. But I promise you I’ll take it easy and only do office work, yeah, that good? And to thank ya, I’ll even call you by the bakery, how’s that? Nice and warm fresh cookies? How’s that sound?” he asked, as he saw the girl clasp her hands together to her chest.
“Well… Alright then, I can’t really refuse you. But please do be careful. At least let me walk you home or something, I don’t think anyone will attack you if I’m around.”  She muttered, still worried.
“Oi, lass, I am the gentleman here, right, I am, so I should offer to walk you home, not the other way around, aye. Let me walk ya home and tomorrow I’ll come by with cookies.” as he got up, he was ready to button up his messy shirt, but the girl stopped him.
“Alright, Alfie, you win. Let me find you a new shirt, I’m sure we have some around. Before I leave, I have to check up on one of Sabini’s men. It will be pretty short, but I still have to make sure he’s alive and kicking.” The girl offered him a smile as she rushed out to find him a new blouse.
Much to his surprise, she returned rather quickly, even dressed in her normal attire, as when she first came by, and they were ready to leave that wing. However, as soon as they exited the room, the girl was pinned to the wall by none other than Mr. Sabini himself. Alfie was ready to react and throw him off her, but a stopping signal from her did the trick, albeit, he was still confused.
“Mr. Sabini. How many times must I remind you not to greet me in this inappropriate way? I lost count after twenty.” she smiled sarcastically at him as she roughly pushed him off.
“I simply cannot help myself around una fiore cosi bello! You have to understand me, mio angelo, it is your fault for being so beautiful. And how many times have I told you to call me my by name, bella?” The sleazy Italian smirked perverted at her.
“It is inappropriate to display such behaviour with your patients, as well as that, I do not feel comfortable addressing you in any way but the formal one. I will also have to ask you, again, not to use compliments with me, I will not, under any circumstance, accept your courting proposal. Not to mention, you and your men have your own ward at a completely different floor, so I will have to politely ask you to please stop bothering my other patients who have the same rights of being treated as you do.” Her voice was so cold and venomous, as a sword’s edge cutting deep into flesh. Alfie was shocked to see the angelic woman capable of such a demeanour, considering how sweet and shy she was previously when she was laughing so much that she started tearing up.
“But Y/N, amore mio, mio Tesoro, I can give your lovely hospital monthly charity cheques, to fund it, bring you only the latest technology in pharmaceutical and medical stuff! I can buy you anything you want, only say so, and I will bring it to you! I will –“ he continued boasting about his money until he got quickly cut off by the girl.
“Enough. I don’t need your money, Mr. Sabini, I have my own. Not only that, I will also really want to ask you to stop bothering me already. I have to remind you, you have been harassing me for quite a long time now, and I have all the right in the world to choose the patients I’m admitting, considering this is now MY hospital, and if you don’t stop your desperate cry for attention, I will completely eliminate the Sabini ward and divulge all your secrets to the other mafia gangs. And don’t you dare pull out your stupid gun and threaten me, I’m not afraid of you or of death. I already died in war, now I’m just living a second chance. Good bye, Mr. Sabini.” And with that, Y/N turned on her heels, motioning for Alfie and Ollie to follow her as the click of her shoes echoing through the corridors emanated the angry aura around her.
“So you’ve got the same kind o’ personal vendetta against those stupid Italians too, aye?” Alfie chuckled, hoping to lighten up the mood for her.
“Yep. That story from before – I’d do it with Sabini without thinking twice. Or I’ll have you do it, I don’t think I even have the physical strength to pick up a duct board. I have noodle arms.” She let out an amused breath as the Jew looked at her with a smile.
“Ya bet I’ll help ya.” And thus, they arrived in front of her house, being greeted, as usual, by her barking dogs who jumped on her from happiness.
“So… Tomorrow, yes? When should I be expecting you?” she asked, trying to pacify her excited puppies.
“Maybe ‘round noon?” and thus, the agreement stood and the girl waved at him sweetly as she went inside the house, followed by her furry babies. “Y’know what, Ollie? This one is a woman that comes once every thousand years. I dunno how Thomas Shelby could let go of her, but he can’t be as smart as he thinks he is.” Alfie chuckled, nodding to his right hand man to begin walking.
The next day, as expected, Y/N woke up early to make sure nothing is out of place everywhere in the house. Maybe it was her weirdly acting up over-perfectionism, but she couldn’t stand still if something wasn’t where it should have been.
After all, she hasn’t had visitors in… Well, never. It was always her who would visit the Shelby family, but other than that, she would meet up with friends in pubs and clubs, not at home.
Before she knew it, noon arrived and the sound of barking announced Alfie’s arrival. As she opened the house’s door, she noticed he was on the ground, getting loved by all the dogs.
Shocker.
“They say dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one. You passed their test, well done.” She gave him an amused side-smile, leaning on the door frame.
“Anyone who has so many dogs is trustworthy in my books.” He cackled as he got up, walking towards the girl, holding the basket up so the four-legged beasts won’t steal it away.
“I taught them horribly bad. They eat at the table with me, I cook for them more than I cook for myself. And now, look at them, those rascals, they will do anything for food as if they’re famished! Spoiled brats, I’m telling you!” she smiled as she removed the flower vase from the table and poured some tea, aromatic and very nicely smelling.
He admired the tea pot and the matching cups – They were a soft, light blue with painted pink flowers. – Very cute, he thought, and very fitting to her own sweetness. He’s seen so many women affected by the bitterness and anger of having to be unheard, submissive and mistreated, in this ugly, monochrome, wet Britain, so meeting Y/N was like a breath of fresh air, completely different, not afraid of being as sweet and kind as she wants, without implicating herself in any trouble or business and just doing her own stuff.
“Tea, lass? I haven’t had tea in ages, yeah.” He chuckled as he carefully put the plate of still steaming cookies along with some challah bread.
“…Oh. I forgot most people prefer alcohol. Oh My God, I’m so sorry, I don’t have any kind of alcohol in the house-“ she freaked out a bit, only to be stopped by Alfie’s chuckle.
“I’m a tea guy too, lass, don’t worry so much over silly things like that, right? Tea’s fine too. What’s it got?” he asked, easing her worries quickly.
“Vanilla, cinnamon, cherries and a bit too much honey. I like sweet things.” She smiled at him as she raised the tea cup and clinked it to his. “Cheers.”
“Sweet things like you, little lady, love things just as sweet, yeah? Cheers! It’s quite nice, aye, not bad, not bad at all, I think I’ll want more.” He blinked in surprise as he saw the girl immediately get up and pour more tea into his cup.
“Woaw, Alfie, you’ve made these? I’ve never eaten chocolate chip cookies before! They’re amazing! And this bread… It’s so soft and it tastes like honey! If you ever wanted to stop your underground business, you could definitely make a fortune opening up your own bakery! Imagine this… Alfie Solomons, the sweetest man in all Britain, loved by every citizen, earns a Royal Warrant from the Queen for baking the best cookies in the world!” Y/N praised the man as she ate what seemed to be the 4th or 5th cookie by now.
“Bah! Who cares ‘bout that old hag with a crown on her head? If the right person likes it, it’s all that matter, right, nothing else matters to me, and you already like my baking, so that’s that, yeah, that’s just that!” Alfie laughed, making the girl in front of him make a cute kitty smile and look down, her cheeks becoming just a tiny bit rosy.
“Alfie, now you’re just being too nice with me. You don’t have to do that just because I treated you.” She chuckled softly, surprising the man.
“You think I’m being nice to you because o’ that? That’s silly of you, lass, yeah, very silly, that’s not the case in the least, that’s just who I am!” he protested vehemently, his golden chain bracelet clinking softly with each movement.
“So you just like me? Just like that?” her eyes widened in shock.
“Why’re you looking so surprised, lass?” his voice became gradually much calmer and sweeter, seeing the genuine emotions from her.
“Oh, I just… I haven’t heard that in quite a while, I guess that’s why. Apart from the doctor work I do, and all the people thanking me for saving them, I don’t have much social interaction, so someone saying they like me for  my personality, as Y/N, not Britain’s Angel who saved them, is… You know… Unexpected.” She admitted, smiling shyly at him.
“How would you like to hear another story?” it’s true that he wanted to see her so bashful in front of him, but he also loved hearing her laugh, so why not give it a try with one more of his famous stories.
“Oh, I’d love that! You have the best stories, Alfie!” she immediately cheered up, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands oh so cutely.
“Now, now, don’t flatter me, lass, it’ll go to my head, yeah, I’ll get used to you cute words.”  He leaned back on the chair, getting a better look at her.
“That just means I’ll have to say them more often.” Oh, how cheeky, Alfie thought as he grinned at her.
“Right, perfect plan! So, there you go! Tommy Shelby came by recently – Just a few days ago, right – And he, he started being a cheeky bastard with me, so I wanted to teach him a lesson. Got the gun out, cocked it in his face. I said – Look, let’s say I just shot you already, right, in the fucking face, and the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie made a finger gun with one of his hands, pointing it at the smiling girl, and then pointed behind her, where a pretty landscape painting was hanging.
“Oh, Tommy in London? I’m surprised he didn’t tell me anything about coming here, or at least visiting me. What a shame. I’m not surprised by his behaviour though, he’s become a bit of a jerk after the war.” She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at him to continue.
“Right, it’s a shame, it really is, because that cabinet is fucked. I gotta get rid of it. So, what I do is this, I said. It’s fucking simple, mate.” And thus, he intertwined his fingers together on the table, playfully putting on the intimidating look of his.
“You burn it to splinters?” she tilted her head serenely like a cute puppy.
“Nah, even better. I cut that cabinet in half, don’t I? I do, I’ll just cut the cabinet, I cut… I cut the cabinet literally in half, mate, I said, and threw him a rag to wipe that bleeding nose of his. He was looking at me like a fucking dead body, lass, beaten up and bruised, by Sabini’s men, but still got the cheek to play coy with me on my turf!” Alfie told her the truth, knowing she’d want to know about her old friend.
“Tommy got beaten up by Sabini? What in the world did he do…? That boy never knows when to stop, does he. Anyway, so you cut the cabinet in half. Now what do you do? Throw it in the ocean?” she asked, quickly forgetting about the Shelby boy.
“No! I take half of that cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and take the other half of the cabinet, and all its pieces, and I put that into another barrel.” His hands shifted between left and right to show off imaginary barrels.
“And you fill them up with gun powder and make them explode in your enemy’s factory?” she grinned excitedly at him.
“Gosh, lass, no! But now I hate that you have more imagination than me! But listen – This barrel – I send this barrel off to… Mandalay.” He flapped his left hand around dismissively, making the girl bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “And the other barrel off to somewhere like… I don’t know…” and he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, unblinking and trying to come up with a funny city name, as she smiled with expectation for the punchline. “Timbuktu! You ever been?” the line was successfully delivered as the girl had to hang her head down and hide her face in her hands as she burst into laughter.
“Mandalay? Timbuktu? Where the hell are those?” she asked, unable to control herself.
“Fuck if I know, lass, but that’s the best of it! And y’know what? Know what, lass? I saw Tommy Shelby, right? Yeah, I saw him. All gloomy and dark and stuff. But I always thought he’d have a great, big, fucking gold ring in his nose!” Alfie joked around, and the girl was almost afraid she’d faint from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, you are the funniest man alive. So what did he say, how did he react to that?!” she urged him to continue.
“Nothin’! Nothin’ at all! He was silent as a fucking lake, lass! That Shelby boy has got no funny bone in his fucking body! Can’t even make a joke with him! Shoulda learnt from you, your company is a delight.” He saw Y/N quickly nod in agreement.
“Yeah, that’s right, Tommy has no sense of humour at all! He hasn’t smiled or laughed since the war. He’s changed completely. I know he’s been through a lot, you know? Everyone has. He still has that kind heart, and all he does, he does for his family… But it wouldn’t hurt him to be more genuine with them, or accept the fact that he’s not the only hurt one who can’t get over the war. I mean – I mean John, he’s my age! Got married, has like 4 kids already, married again and he’s still a brat as always! And you, Alfie! You said you were a captain, but you are the greatest person I ever met! He has no excuse for being a jerk. If he had a nose ring, like the bulls have, you could’ve just gotten a hook and tied him to a car and had him paraded around the streets of Camden Town!” she giggled in amusement, roasting her old friend shamelessly.
“Y’know lass, I think you’re as much of a fairy as I am, aye. You look all angelic and pure, but you have a wicked sense of humour!” the girl couldn’t help but let out a mock gasp of hurt and offense.
“Me? Wicked? Never! My, Alfie, you hurt me - How ever in this world could you possibly call me the Devil, when I’m known as Birmingham’s Angel? Recently, Britain’s Angel?” she laughed, almost as though she was making fun of her own nicknames.
“I think I’d much rather hear you being Alfie’s Angel.” Y/N’s smile froze, and her cheeks warmed up instantly, her gaze looking down at the tiny crumbles left behind from the tasty cookies. “Wha’chu say, lass?”
“I... Think I would like that very much, Alfie.” she could barely contain her timid smile.
“Wonderful news, lass!” Alfie merrily got to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, pretty Angel. Don’t forget to serve your little companions their dinner at the table, a’ight?” he bent down slightly to plant a small kiss on her cheek, a little ticklish from his bear, before nodding his head at her, a cheeky smile on his face, and he left, not without all the dogs desperately seeking affection from him.
“Alfie’s Angel, huh? Doesn’t sound half-bad.” Y/N giggles softly to herself, only to hear her maid coming out of nowhere and cheering for her for landing such a good man, though not without warning her not to get into trouble with the very many gangs and their wars. She was a sweet girl, Y/N thought - Perhaps Ollie would like to date a lovely lady like herself.
Many days and weeks, and even months passed, and Alfie visited Miss Y/N daily, never skipping a single day, or missing to bring her the prettiest flowers, and the freshest cookies and bread. He was going to spoil her rotten, that one, and he loved every bit of it, especially the shy look she always had on her face, and the hesitation of accepting so many gifts - He just loved pampering her, what could he do? It was in his nature after all.
And Y/N absolutely loved whenever he’d come over, and each day, with a new story to tell, and new jokes and rumours and gossips - He was an absolute delight, and her dogs loved him perhaps a little bit more than they loved her, at this point. It was no wonder, after all - Alfie started baking food for them! And Y/N thought she spoiled them! 
For once, Y/N stopped feeling the terrifyingly heavy pressure of anguish and torment weighting down on her very soul and being. She didn’t feel the need to work her mind into exhaustion, not tire out her body to the point of fainting asleep. She didn’t need to do any of those anymore, to feel alive and human. She only needed to look at those beautiful eyes of his, and those kissable lips, always forming a mirthful smile; to feel vitality returning into her body, and any sense of fear and anxiety escaping her very being. She remembered what it was like to have a sense of care and possessiveness over her own life, and finally, after so long, she wanted to be free - As free as it could get, unbound by any rule and regulation - To just have fun and thrive in the bliss of romance and happiness.
Once Alfie heard that, he kissed her sweet lips for the first time, admitting to wanting to retreat from the mafia life, and retreat to a calmer area where no one would be searching for him. Margate. A small cottage, cozy and warm, by the sea, where nobody would care to scold them for shooting those noisy seagulls, and Cyril and her dogs could run around aimlessly and run day in and day out, while they spend their time reading and baking and all the cutesy things that couples in love are supposed to do.
Before that, however, a few more things had to happen - Retirement wasn’t an easy process, after all, not in this business, and shrouding yourself into the veil of the unknown was even more difficult a task. People wanted their vengeance, after all, and they’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Nothing, including threatening the beautiful, benevolent Angel who was supposed to have neutral immunity from all kinds of parties. That is what she thought. That is what everyone thought. It was the catalyst of Alfie’s decision to speed up his retirement process and get this done and dealt with already. He never felt as angry as he was now.
It came during a time when Tommy rang Y/N asking for a favour, though rather uncomfortable. Alfie didn’t agree with this at all, he warned Y/N it would be dangerous - Deals with Italians were unpredictable, those bastards, and Sabini was a lecherous fuck who wanted to steal her away - But how could Y/N deny doing a favour to the man who helped her reach such heights though his influence? The man she went to war to protect? The man she took a bullet for? Her brother from another mother?
“Y/N, lass, you’re going to get fried to death if you approach that pasta fucker. I can’t just let you go.” Alfie grumbled worriedly. “And it ain’t just Sabini I’m worried about, love, it’s Changretta too. ‘course, all the fucking pizza fuckers came ‘round to screw things over, but Sabini keeps saying he ain’t working with that other fucker.” he paced nervously around the room, to and fro, fro and to. “Y/N, listen - Listen, a’ight? LIsten. It’s not Sabini I’m worried about, y’know? We’ve been at each other’s throats since school, it ain’t flash news, right -- I can deal with ‘im somehow -- But the other one? I know shit about ‘im. Came over from fucking America, and now he thinks he owns the whole fucking world, that one. And y’know what, hun? ‘e can fuckin’ have it, for all I care. Let Tommy Shelby fight with him. But you --- I’ll be fucking damned before I let him take you away from me.”
“Alfie, sweety, look at me.” Y/N got up from the bed, and approached the frantic man. She cupped his face and brought him into a tender kiss. “There’s no force on earth that can keep me apart from you. Besides! The hospital, remember? Even if Changretta comes over, I will just tell him of the deals, and the treatment and... He won’t hurt me.” without even realising, Alfie’s arms were wrapped around her smaller form, holding her close to his chest, pouting like a clingy child. “Alfie~! Come on, don’t tickle me with your beard! I promise I’ll give you attention all the after this is over, okay? But family is family, and I promised to help out. It won’t take long. And... It’s supposed to be some private party, right? A party with lots of people. He can’t just threaten me in front of everyone, right?”
“I don’t like risky things like this, Y/N. Can’t blame a man in love for worryin’.” He muttered against the skin of her neck. “But better tell Tommy I’m not gonna let him send you do his errands for him anymore, a’ight?”
“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.” she couldn’t help her sweet, uncontrollable giggling, all because of him playfully running that trickly yet well kept beard of his over her soft skin.
Just as promised, Y/N dressed in a very pretty dress, making her look like an innocent, sweet flower blooming in Spring, overshadowing all around her with her beauty, thought there was no Tommy Shelby there waiting to escort her at the party. She didn’t think much about it though - She hadn’t a watch at her, so she couldn’t tell whether she was fashionably late or not, and he just went on ahead to do some of his work dealings with his gang friends. It was none of Y/N’s business, she was just supposed to be there as a peacemaker, a mediator, considering she was neutral with all, thanks to her position as the head of the hospital.
She grabbed herself a glass of champagne from a waiter and waited by the sidelines, watching the party unfold, with gorgeous dancers and the orchestra playing songs of all kinds. When a slowed song began, she awkwardly played the wallflower, not wanting to gain any attention to her, but of course, her not so favourite Italian came by, gallantly asking for a dance. Of course, she couldn’t refuse, more or less because she was a diplomat, and despite all the harassment from the past, all of them taking care in the hospital, at a party, it was all fine. Still, she hoped Alfie could have been there - It would have been more bearable.
“A gorgeous lady like yourself shouldn’t be all alone at a party.” Sabini said, making Y/N give a polite smile.
“Well, I was sure Tommy would be busy talking business with you, Mr. Sabini. I’m surprised you’re here, with me.” the man rose a quizzical eyebrow, hearing that.
“My dear, Thomas Shelby never once spoke to me today. In fact, I was not aware he was here at all.” Y/N’s body froze, and their dance stopped.
“What do you mean?” she asked in a whispery voice. “Tommy said he needed me here, as a mediator between the Peaky Blinders and the other gangs of London. If he’s not here -- Why would he ask me to be here?”
“Ah, bella, bella, bella, so your naivite and innocence only makes you more endearing.” he gave a smug smirk. “Luca Changretta asked your dear Tommy, to have a... Pleasant conversation. Negating deals. Business talks... Men talks. Signorina Y/N, he sent you over to receive a message, as he feared for his life, but counted on our long lasting friendship.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she felt terrified for her life.
“I... Don’t want to get involved in your business matters. I don’t do business. I just heal people, that’s all. I wanted to do Tommy a favour, as he is my brother, but I want to have a peaceful life, away from all the gang wars. Please, let me go home, Mr. Sabini. If you want me to send Tommy a message, I will, but I won’t get involved any further than this.” the Italian nodded his head, an almost nasty smirk on his face. 
“By all means, no one wants to hurt you, Signorina. It would be terribly rude of us to kill the messenger... Though Signor Changretta’s father was ruthlessly killed, in front of his wife, for no reason, by your brothers. But us, bella - We, Italians, care for our family above all, and Signor Changretta admires your devotion to your own. He is going to love meeting you.” Y/N slowly removed her hands from the man’s shoulders and offered a small smile, trying to keep her composure. But she was terrified to the core, almost as much as she had been during the war. Not only did Tommy betray her, but he threw her in a pit of vipers... Like a weaponless gladiator, forced to fight a hundred starving lions in the Colosseum. She was a healer, not a fighter! Damn it, Tommy!
“It was a lovely evening, Mr. Sabini. I will be taking my leave now.” with a certain elegant swiftness, Y/N was able to slip past Sabini and hide her presence in the sea of people, trying to make her way to the exit of the grand mansion, only to bump into another man, much taller than Sabini was, and he was towering over her, a passive smile on his face. It was much clear now, the whole place was filled only with Italians. She was trapped.
“Signora, what kind of man was vile enough to make a woman cry? Tell me, please, I will not have such disrespect in my family.” his accent was heavy, and his aura was dangerous, with a mysterious darkness. The stranger rose a hand to cup her cheek and rose her face to wipe the wet, gleaming under eye of the woman.
“Uh... Forgive me, Mr... I didn’t mean to bump into you and disturb you. I... I am not a very sociable person, I don’t do well with crowds. I... Was hoping to return home.” she offered an uncomfortable smile. This man was trouble.
“Don’t worry, bella, I will make sure to discipline my men better.” he nodded, chewing on what looked like a toothpick... Or a match? Was that a match? “You will have to forgive them. Anyway, may I escort you outside and call for a car for you?” something made her feel as though she hadn’t any choice in the matter.
“Y-Yes, please.” she nodded meekly, her voice barely audible from all the noise of the party.
With his arm around her waist, the stranger gentlemanly escorted the lady outside of the mansion, and outside, into the darkness barely illuminated by the lights from inside the house. Were it not for the loud music and all the chattering from the mansion, the graveyard silence would have been entirely ominous, save for the soft cricket and toad melody.
They were all alone.
“Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Changretta?” Y/N asked, frightened out of her mind.
“Kill you? Oh, Signora, no, no, why in the world would I wish to harm an beautiful lady like yourself?” he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Sabini tells me they call you the Angel of Britain. May I call you... Angelica?” Y/N didn’t answer. “Have I frightened you so, bella? Mi dispiace, it wasn’t my intention.” though, based on the sarcastic slur of his words, he was having his fun tormenting her.
“Mr. Sabini said you wished me to deliver Tommy a message. What is it?” the woman asked, holding her hands together tightly.
“Ah, yes, of course. Very brave of Mr. Shelby, sending his dear sister to do his dirty work. How shameful. You see, bella, we never put our ladies in danger. Sabini especially says he’s taken a liking to you for quite some good years. I can see perfectly well why. I’ve never seen a woman beautiful and intelligent such as yourself.” Luca’s hand found itself caressing her face, his long fingers reaching up to her hair, strong her long velvety hair. “I love how you defy this decade’s fashion, though you manage to look more elegant than most.” he kept complimenting her.
“Mr. Changretta, please... I am already dating a man, and we are soon going to move in together. I would appreciate it dearly if you would not continue your courting, though I am very flattered that one like yourself would find me attractive.” the man looked up at the sky, a dry smile on his face, watching how the lady tried to step backwards every time he inched forwards, only to end up with her back flush against a tree.
“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that. You are far too terrified from the simplest gesture. Admit it, Signora, you’ve never been with a man before, have you?” his smirk only widened watching her face burning with a sweet blush. “You needn’t say any word, your body betrays you.” he chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to her. “I hate making ladies cry. My mamma taught me better than this. She taught me to respect and cherish women, for they are a treasure - And I agree. I will not hard you, Signora Y/N. But perhaps you need to be reminded of the importance you play in this gang war... And maybe even remind your dear brother, as he seems to have forgotten about you and how much you worth. Would he react at all, if I were to laugh in his face and tell him I’ve claimed you? Will he even get angry, if I tell him I killed you? Thomas Shelby finds himself to be rather the undefeatable businessman and politician, but from our latest interaction, I say, he’s a man as much as any other, and he has easily exploitable weaknesses. It is really too bad you had to get caught in the middle of all this. I bear you no ill will, Angelica.” he leaned his face closer and closer to her own, to the point of feeling his warm breath on her skin - She tried to move away, though he fixed her head, cupping her cheeks forcefully. He truly just wanted to steal a little kiss, nothing more! He wanted to get a taste of her pink, plump lips that looked like the softest rose petals, bathing in shiny morning dew.
Instead, the loud, resounding sound of a gunshot made the man close his eyes in anger, whilst Y/N squeaked in fear, trying to fall to the ground and defend herself; an awful habit she couldn’t break even after the war was over. Luca used the woman as a shield, one hand buried in her hair, the other, holding a pistol to her temple.
From the paved street the soft sound of a cane was heard, as Alfie Solomons appeared, looking all dressed for a party. He looked alone. Was it him who shot, or was it another? Surely, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come by all alone, even if it was to rescue Y/N - And if he did, it only meant her worth was a hundred times more than he expected. Was he the man she mentioned just previously?
“Ah, Mr. Solomons, what an unexpected surprise. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Luca Changretta.” the Italian smirked, chewing on that match, approaching his face to touch his cheek to Y/N’s. 
“Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are a bit of a failure, aren’t you? You come all the way over here, to this country, yeah, in order to kill Tommy Shelby - But, I mean, well - He’s not dead, is he?” Alfie smiled fakely at the Italian, forcing himself not to look at the whimpering look of his beloved.
“He would have been, were he not saved by Angelica over here. But he cowarded out, didn’t he? Can’t even have a conversation with someone who hides behind his sister’s skirts.” Changretta sneered mockingly.
“That’s it. I’ll tell you what, right? I didn’t want to come ‘ere, in your home, without a gift, yeah? It woulda been rude - And Jews are known for their hospitality, of course. Here - It’s free. A souvenir.” Alfie rose a single bottle of his rum, showing he was unarmed. “Now, why don’t you let go of that lady over there, and we say our goodbyes?”
Changretta smirked darkly at him. “Signora, why don’t you take the bottle and have a sip? Rum is sweet, for women. Men prefer dry, strong gin.” with trembling hands, Y/N extended her arms to get the bottle from Alfie. It was almost excruciatingly painful, being so close to his protective arms, yet so very far away... “Go on, Angelica, take a sip.” Alfie frowned, watching Y/N’s face contort slightly - She didn’t drink alcohol, she hated it. Even if rum was sweeter than most alcohols, it still wasn’t anywhere close to her sweet teas with too much honey in them.
“This clown wants me to run his shit rum into New York.” Changretta let out a dry laugh, insulting the Jew in Italian.
“Damn fucking straight, mate, otherwise you wouldn’t still be thieving my oxygen and patience, would you? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teamsters.” Alfie continued with the straight business deal.
“Didn’t you just hear me? People want gin these days.” Luca repeated.
“I heard you wanted to come over with a proposition for me. I hate waiting, yeah - So, that’s why I came over, to quicken things up a bit, before they get stale, right. I already know what you want. I just want to hear you say it out loud so I can check how ridiculous it is.” Alfie inched closer to the two, not once breaking his overly dramatic mannerism.
“Ah, bella, what will I do, I am losing my patience with him.” Luca shook his head in disdain, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Based on the twitch of his enemy’s eye, he had hurried over with a half-baked plan. No doubt, Thomas Shelby must have gone over to him to search for an ally in him. To come in the enemy’s den for a woman - Alfie Solomons was a suicidal maniac. “There is gonna be a little fight, a boxing match, between your boy and Tommy Shelby’s boy, and the whole Shelby family is gonna be there.” Alfie hummed, already knowing all this. “And you, Mr. Solomons, you too will be there.” Luca started stroking a lock of Y/N’s hair, intentionally taunting the Jew. “You know, they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny because I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah. You want the girl back, that’s why you’re here. Maybe for the barrels too. But the girl... Yes, I get why you’d want her back. Can’t miss out on claiming a treasure like her.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering and going down, towards her ear, whispering a small threat and softly slipping the sleeve of her dress a little down her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, revealing flawless skin, before leaning down her neck, and to her bare shoulder. Y/N tried to struggle away from him, whimpering from the uncomfortable fear she was feeling, and how violated she felt by the Italian, but the tight grip on her hair only brought out a whimper of pain and disgust from her.
If someone could look deep into Alfie’s eyes, they could see a wrathful fire raging inside his soul. He wanted to make pasta sauce from that fucker for daring touch his sweet lady and making tormenting her so. He had to play his cards well, feign ignorance and uncare, otherwise, he was afraid that wop will be taking Y/N as a bargaining chip and blackmail him, to the point that not even Tommy Shelby playing God would be able to save the sweet lady. “I want some cash too. Don’t worry, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” from the pocket of his coat, he took out a neatly folded paper. “A list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right?” from his other pocket, he took out his glasses, putting them on as he read the terms and conditions to their deal. “Now, a normal dispatch, well, it’s, you know, 500 pounds cost, but you’re going to have to have to add another 100 to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people... And... I need you to put another tonne on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he will come after me.” Alfie kept reading, frowning every so often at the inconveniences he was listing. “And then you will need to put another 100 on top of that, because, well, you’re a fucking wop, mate, hmmm?” Changretta remained speechless, looking at the mess of a Jew who found himself hilarious, messing with him. “And then... We have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pounds, because, like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine.” though he wished to wring his neck for throwing Y/N in danger like that. “And... Another 500 pounds for threatening my wife. And 500 more pounds for making her cry.” Alfie folded back the paper, handing it to his enemy. “Total is down there, in black and white. All right? Crack on.”
“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie frowned at the Italian.
“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish, yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.” he warned the unbothered Italian don.
“You see, these days, back in the old country, a lot of the, uh.... You know, the Jewish people, they, uh... They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” Changretta chuckled menacingly. 
“All right, well, you’ll have to add another ton onto your bill - For being a cunt, mate.” Alfie refuted with a chilling calm. “All right?”
Luca looked away briefly. “You will bring my men to Birmingham?”
Alfie nodded his head, hoping his crazy humour was acting as reassurance for his lady. “You will circumcise them?” Luca was mute. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?”
“If they’re going to have their pretty doctor check, surely, she wouldn’t quite know the difference, would she?” the Italian jabbed at the Jew, who was imagining different ways of torturing this fucker.
“Don’t bother your little wop brain over what my wife does. She won’t be there.”  Luca smirked, knowing very well his uppercut landed perfectly.
“Okay. Any other requests?” he asked, laxing his grip on her hair. “Two hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal.” Alfie frowned, looking at him with disinterest. “What’s the matter? I said we have a deal.”
“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?” Alfie stared him down. Luca affirmed that statement. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” then, for the first time, Y/N heard the man speak in his own, native language. “You plan to kill us all.” though she didn’t quite understand what he said, the look in his eyes was enough to give her a good guess. Still, with the deal in place, Luca Changretta smirked in triumph, and with one last gesture of condescence, he forced Y/N into a deep kiss, before pushing her towards the Jew. “Sogni d’oro, mia bella Angelica.”
Alfie instinctively lunged forward, catching and gathering his lady into a tight embrace and watching carefully as Changretta stepped inside the mansion. He could feel Y/N’s soft trembles of her small body as she cried in soft whimpers - She was trying desperately to stay composed, but after everything she’d gone through, he couldn’t blame her. That margherita fucker must have creeped her to hell and back. “It’s okay, darling, cry as much as you need. I’m here, love, I’m here, okay? Alfie’s here, and I’m not gonna let go of you again.” she felt so warm, so safe in his large arms. “Let’s go home, yeah? No more of this gang shit. I’ve done over my plans, and we’re leaving faster. I’m not gonna let any of this fuckers even look at you ever again.” he massaged and stroked the back of her head, where that jerk hurt her, and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks and even her nose, before guiding her to the car, with Ollie driving them to the comfort of her own home, with her many dogs, and a shit ton of guards all around.
Y/N couldn’t say anything, and when they got home, Alfie had her maid draw her a warm bath so she could relax. He made sure to put a nice vinyl on the gramophone, and had Ollie return to their house to bring the emergency cookies for comfort, whilst he continued to internally curse Thomas.
He wasn’t sure how long she calmed down in the bath, with her maid comforting and chatting with her to get her mind off of the anguish she was put through, but when she returned, she was wearing one of her beautiful silk nightgown that barely went down to her knees, and she let herself plop on the bed, cuddling into his arms like a kitten seeking warmth. “How did you know?” her soft voice asked as he pulled them to lay down, stroking her hair and her face dearly, occasionally planting kisses and calling her sweet things. When Ollie finally came back with the cookies, her maid had brewed the sweetest tea in existence for them.
“Well, I always did pride myself with having good intuition, you know, but when Tommy came by my bakery, I realised - Shit, my sweet lady’s in trouble.” Alfie spoke, watching her cringe softly at the mention of the Shelby. “Asked him what the hell he was doin’ over at my place, instead of being there with you, and he said - Who would hurt you? Sabini wouldn’t, surely. There’s no person with more immunity than you, right?” he mimicked the man. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind, hun, hearing that. I was this close to beating him to death, yeah, nobody dares touch my sweet girl after all. He said some things about those fucking greasy wops, and it got me thinking - I already knew things were going to shit, and very fast, right, and I knew I had to make our exit as swift as possible - But when I heard you were all alone, with a bunch of sleazy fucks, my mind went crazy.” he gesticulated dramatically, before pinching her cheek playfully. “I promised Tommy Shelby a beating at some point, and I managed to land one good punch on him before coming to my darling’s rescue. Glad I got there just in time, but fuck, I’m so pissed - So fucking pissed you had to go through all that. I should’ve never let you go. Should’ve trusted my gut.” he grumbled, clearly angry at himself.
“Alfie.” she had an upset, pouting look on her face. “I’m sorry I let him kiss me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.” she hung her head in shame. “If you hadn’t come when you did... I fear what he’d have done.”
“Y/N, lass, what the hell are you apologising for?!” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to raise her face gently to look at him. “As if a weaponless woman could fight a grown ass man with a gun. If anything, I should be the one to apologise for not being fucking able to protect you as a man should. I thought playing the wife card, and the extra billing, would get that cheapskate fucker let go of you already. Fucking cunt. He’ll pay, I’ll make sure of that.”
But Y/N frantically shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Alfie. I don’t want revenge, and I don’t care what happens to any gangs, okay? I’m sorry, Alfie, I’m sorry I- I’m selfish, okay? I don’t want to do this anymore. I just - I can’t. I really can’t, you know? Always in the middle of danger, always in the middle of war -- I just want to go live out a happy, peaceful life, with you, and our dogs, and a shit load of seagulls to shoot whenever they wake us up with that annoying screech of theirs. And then -- Then, I wanna go have a good travel, maybe. Let’s -- Let’s go to the mountains, I heard it’s fun hiking. The forests are very pretty too. We can hide away from everyone, we’ve got enough money, don’t we - And if you wanted to, I told you, you can open up your own real bakery, and live perfectly comfortable with those earnings. Anything - Anything, just to get the hell out of this God-forsaken, war-riddled, decrepit, barren city, and away from this awful, exploiting people who care for nothing but their damn fucking business.” the way her eyes were gleaming with both hope and desperation shattered Alfie’s heart. “Can we do that, Alfie? Please, can we do that? Just the two of us -- Maybe Ollie and Annie too, if they wanna - And our dogs too - Just us, a nice, big family.”
Alfie’s very soul felt honeyed from her words of love, and her wish of staying together with him - And it was tempting too, taking Ollie and her maid with them, he had to admit. They would finally be living the god damn peaceful fucking life that they deserved. He had been dreaming during the day, and during the night, of a life spent together with her, all away from this shit city, away from the shit gang wars and what nots. He was exhausted, he wanted to let his guard down for once, and he knew he could do that with Y/N. He wanted to provide her a beautiful, comfortable life, a peaceful once - She’s never been to the beach, and he really wanted to show Margate to her. Just them, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore, walking barefoot into the wet sand and playing in the water.
Perhaps it was a little close for comfort to both France and London too - Maybe some day, they could go further north, further away from the capital. Perhaps they can even change their names, take on new identities, retire completely. Sure, he’ll still be taking care of his Jewish community, but he would stop the mafia dealings - Let the younger generations get themselves in trouble a hundred thousand times per minute, he was completely done for.
“Yeah, my little cookie, we can do that, and we’ll fucking do it, and very soon, yeah? Very soon, I promise you that. I’ll keep you safe, and comfortable, and happy. First, in Margate, and if we get bored, wherever the hell we want, a’ight? With Ollie and Annie if they wanna join, and with our spoiled dogs, ‘course.” he leaned in, capturing her lips into a sweet kiss.
“Alfie?” she called his name, her cheeks flustering lightly, unable to meet his eyes, despite the beautiful smile on her face.
“Yeah, meyn ketsele?” Y/N always blushed so hard whenever he’d call her his little kitten.
“Is the... Erhm... Wifey spot still open? I’d like to apply.” Alfie couldn’t help but start laughing mirthfully at her bashfulness, only to pull her into a loving embrace, peppering her face with kisses all over.
“Ikh hob dikh shtark lib - I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.” Y/N felt faint from all the suffocating love and affection she was receiving all at once, but she couldn’t help but melt to the sound of Alfie speaking in his native language, saying that he loves her so much, that she was the love of his life and what more. It was almost funny, how quickly he became smitten beyond repair for her, but he simply couldn’t help it. Women like her only came about once every thousands of years, and he was just so happy, just by seeing that shy smile of hers, or waking up to her in his arms. How could he ever let her go? 
Y/N wasn’t Birmingham’s Angel anymore, and like hell was she Britain’s Angel. She wasn’t an angel, she was a little wicked fairy, the sweetest lady there was, and any other overdosing sugary sweet and entirely embarrassing term of love that Alfie could ultimately generate from the top of his head, just to see her adorable blush, but by hell, he was feeling trapped and addicted to her magic, and he was never going to let go of his darling honey bunch lady.
And Alfie was going to make her the happiest woman alive, and their wedding was gonna be fucking biblical.
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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 - Day 2
Adultery with Arthur Shelby
"Just One Bite"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: You & Arthur take comfort in each other's arms after Linda aims her wrath at both of you.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, injury/blood (only a little), jealousy, reference to potential verbal/mental abuse from Linda, swearing, pet names, fingering, creampie, vaginal sex, light dirty talk, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst
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From the moment you had been moved into the position of Arthur's secretary, his wife Linda had marked you as a whore out to steal, or at the very least corrupt, her husband. 
It was like she thought you had been sent personally by the devil to lure him away from Linda and negate her religious appeals to Arthur. You were the snake in the garden of Eden and yet somehow also the apple. Tempting Arthur to take a bite of you. You were an apple Linda was sure her husband could never resist. He would never be able to resist you and all that came with you after just one bite of your forbidden fruit.
None of that had been your intention, of course, at least originally. When you saw Arthur, you saw a man who needed help. You saw a man struggling to hold onto himself as he was pulled in all directions by opposing riptides. You just wanted to be the buoy to help keep him afloat or the lighthouse shining in the distance, showing him where the shoreline was. You wanted to help him and the rest of the Shelby's, and so that became your job.
It was Linda and her cruel behavior towards both you and Arthur that had driven the two of you together. That first night anything happened, it had all been because of her. She had stormed into his office at the Garrison in a rage over something, and once she was done with Arthur, she was still hungry for more blood. So she set her sights on you. Verbally abusing you and destroying your desk in the process. You knew she was probably high on cocaine. That was the only way you could explain the venom that she unleashed that night towards both of you. 
After she had finally left, silent tears started to slide down your cheeks. You refused to let her see you cry. Her words had cut far deeper than the damage done to your belongings and the business papers she had thrown around. In silence, you got down onto the ground and started cleaning up the mess. Uncrumpling and trying to piece together torn bits of paper. As you worked, you hadn't realized that Arthur was watching you or that you had kneeled down on shards of glass from a broken picture frame until he said something. 
"You're bleeding." 
His voice made you jump, and suddenly, you felt the small cuts on your knees. Stinging with the sudden movement. Quickly rocking to your feet to relieve the pressure on your newly discovered injuries. Blood smeared on the floor, several papers, and yourself. 
"I'm so sorry, Arthur, uh, Mr. Shelby. I'll get this cleaned up right away, and I'll retype any papers that I soiled or were damaged before I leave tonight." 
Just as quickly as you finished talking, Arthur responded. Your eyes snapped back up from the papers you had been trying to gather up. A softness in his blue eyes. You weren't sure whether it was sadness or caring. Maybe it was a mixture of both.
"No. No, you won't. We will clean this up together,  but only after you let me fix you up. Don't want one of the only nice, tolerable people in this city out sick because she let some silly cuts get all infected." 
You gave him a soft smile for his kindness. Still planning to dismiss his gestures, but he didn't give you the chance. 
"Come 'ere. I got a kit in my desk. Besides, it was my wife who made this mess. It's my job to clean it up, and that includes you." 
After quickly pulling the tin box from a drawer and grabbing a bottle of alcohol he patted the top of his desk. Signaling for you to sit there as he plopped down in his regular chair. He took a long swig from the bottle of whiskey and offered it to you. You followed suit. Needing something to calm your nerves, both from Linda's explosion and from the fact that you were currently sat on your boss's desk and you knew his head and his hands would soon be rather close to your most intimate places. You couldn't help but notice the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
You crossed your legs at the ankles and squeezed your thighs together as you pulled your skirt up just over your knees. Your stockings were clearly ruined. They had become more or less shredded from the glass and tinged red from your blood. A sad sigh fell from your lips as you surveyed the damage. Arthur surreptitiously casting sidelong glances at you as he unpacked the first aid box. 
"These were my favorites too." 
"I'll make sure you get a little extra pay this week. To replace them. It's only fair. It's my fault, after all." 
You shrugged at his statement. If Arthur had his way, he would blame everything in the entire world on himself. That was one of the things you desperately wanted him to see differently. 
"Linda seems to think it's my fault."
"Yeah, well Linda's fucking mental. Not sure anything could ever be your fault. I'm not sure you've ever even made a spelling error, let alone any of the shit she's on about." 
You giggled at that. Your smile making his freckled cheeks blush just a tad.
"Well, if you think I've never made a spelling error, you may need your eyes checked, Arthur." 
You both shared a little smile. The flutter in your stomach picked up again as you looked into his eyes. A flush started to show more clearly on his cheeks before he quickly looked down. Starting to survey the scrapes on your knees. Clearly unsure of where to put his hands. 
"Ummm… I think I actually need to take these off. To make sure there isn't any glass in the cuts." 
He waited for you to respond, glancing up at you under his thick eyelashes. Part of him was waiting for you to shove him away for even suggesting he take off your stockings, but another part of him was ready to beg like a dog for a chance to touch you. 
Perhaps there was some truth to some of what Linda had accused him of. He did harbor a bit of a crush on you, but he was sure you were completely unattainable to him even if he wasn't a married man. Someone so sweet, intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous would never fall for him. You were so far out of his league that you were in a completely different ballpark, and yet you didn't act like it. You didn't snub your nose at him or his family the way Linda always had. 
"Oh, um, okay. I trust you, Arthur." 
Your voice was a little shaky as you said it. Only because you couldn't read his emotions. Did he want you to do it? Or did he want to do it himself? 
In all honesty, you kind of wanted him to do it. You were already getting blamed for having an affair with him, when in reality, you just had a stupid school girl crush on your boss. This was probably going to be the closest you ever got to living out one of your fantasies. So, without another word, you kicked off your shoes and waited to see what would happen next. 
Arthur slowly placed one hand on your shin, gauging your response before slowly moving it up to the outside of your thigh to find the top of the stocking and your garter. Making sure you didn't protest before his other hand followed, this time on the inside of your thigh. Your legs spreading just enough to allow his hand access. Slowly pulling your garter off and setting it to the side before moving back to slowly start peeling your silk stocking down your leg.
His breath hitching when his fingertips brushed the supple skin of your inner thighs. You were so warm, and your skin was so incredibly soft. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning. He repeated his actions on your other leg and had to fight the urge to touch you further. To spread you open for him just a little bit more. Just enough so he could bury his head between your thighs. He was sure you would taste better than the sweetest sugar.
You were suddenly very aware of the heat growing at your core as you watched his gentle movements. He touched you like you were a porcelain doll who would shatter if he was too rough. His calloused fingertips ghosted over your inner thigh. So very close to where you secretly wanted him to touch you. Where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to touch you too. 
Once both your stockings had been discarded, Arthur started studying your wounds a little closer. Looking for any shards of glass that may have gotten stuck in your skin.. Bringing your feet up initially to rest on his chest, just below his shoulder, before realizing how much the image of you like that made his head spin. Settling to let your feet rest on his thighs Not that that worked to diffuse any of the sexual tension in the air that was growing thicker with each passing second. 
You could feel the strong muscles of his legs shifting under the soles of your feet as he moved to pour a decent amount of whiskey onto a clean rag. Part of you wanted to be exactly the kind of woman Linda already thought you were. How short a distance you would have to move your foot to start caressing Arthur's crotch. Wondering what he would feel like as you rubbed him. Wondering how big his cock was. The sounds he would make if you did. There was little point in denying what felt so obvious between you at that moment. 
You wanted him, and he wanted you just the same. You made a silent promise that you would treat him far better than Linda did. Your mind was thinking of all the things Linda probably refused to do that you happily would. There was no way she wasn't a prude in bed. You wondered just how many pleasures you could grant him that she wouldn't. How many pleasures he was used to being denied.
It was Arthur's voice that pulled you from your wicked thoughts.
"Right. This is gonna sting like hell." 
That was all the warning you got before he pressed the whiskey soaked rag onto the cuts. He was right. It hurt. You grabbed at your skirt, holding the fabric tightly in your fingers as you tried to breathe through the pain. Balling the fabric up in your fists and without realizing it, causing it to ride up, baring more of your thighs, and even granting Arthur a peek at the gusset of your panties. 
They weren't particularly fancy. A simple silk in a soft shade of mauve. He knew he was an absolute goner as soon as he saw them and how they were clinging to the plump lips of your cunt. He could practically feel you clench and relax your inner muscles as he moved the rag off of your now clean scrapes. He barely managed to keep his damaged mind focused long enough to place a gauze bandage on each knee. 
His resolve finally cracked completely when he had the idea to place a soft kiss over each bandage. A sweet gesture on its own, but when paired with his now dilated eyes, one that you knew meant he had more sinful desires on his mind. Your hand reflexively went to brush through his hair as his lips touched the first bandage. Gripping the longer strands when he moved to the second. 
His face began nuzzling the inside of your knee. His gruff whimpers against your skin, giving you a last chance to tell him to stop. To push him away. It only made you pull on his hair harder and spread your legs for him farther. A needy whine pulled from his throat before he bit the flesh of your inner thigh and began sucking a dark bruise there. His large hands had already moved to grab at your ass under your skirt to pull you closer to the edge of his desk.
Now that your body was well within his reach, he lifted his head from your lap and brought his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely. Your teeth nipping at his lips and your tongues chasing one another without shame. The glowing embers of need blossoming into a full-fledged flame. 
"Arthur, are you sure about this. After everything that happened earlier. Are you sure you want this?" 
You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. Opening your eyes to stare into his icy blue ones. 
"I'm sure, love. Even more now. It seems you and I are already cursed for something we weren't doing. Might as well get some fun out of it, and I'd gladly damn myself for you." 
He moved to kiss you again, but you pulled back again. Wanting to make sure this wasn't just a fleeting desire and that you would be canned by the next morning. A secretary was much easier to get rid of than a wife. 
"What about Linda?"
The mention of her name made his nostrils flair. Clearly still upset from her tantrum earlier. He brought his hands up to cup your face so you were looking him straight in the eye.
"Fuck Linda. You're the one I want. For a long time now. I don't want to deny it anymore. Just never thought you would want a sad old bastard like me."
You sighed and nodded. Giving him your permission to let his lips meet yours again. The soft tickle of his mustache making you smile as you kissed. Your arms slowly moving to loop around his neck and your legs moving to loop around his hips. Pulling his body into yours.
"Wanted you just as much. You may not see it, but you are incredible. Now, fuck me please, Arthur"
Arthur was all long limbs and taut muscles. A sharp contrast to your soft curves. Little did you know that was one of his favorite things about you. That you had so many curves and soft spots for him to touch, kiss, and explore. His hands were already moving up and down your sides, groping your ass and then your breasts as you kissed. 
You set to work on the first few buttons of his shirt. Reaching inside to feel his chest. Pulling your lips away from his to place a soft kiss on the cross tattoo over his heart. 
Arthur quickly followed suit. Leaving wet kisses down your neck before starting to pull at your blouse. His large, rough hands threatened to tear the fabric right off your body. It was like he couldn't possibly wait any longer to touch your bare skin.
"Careful Arthur. I still have to have clothes to walk home in, and I've already lost a good pair of stockings today." 
Your teasing tone told him you weren't upset at his overzealousness. He chuckled in your ear and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. You could feel his hips starting to rut into you. His excitement now becoming apparent in more ways than one. 
"Sorry, lovey. I've just wanted to touch you like this for so long. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pull you into me lap every time you come in here. You're re always so fuckin' sweet and nice to me even when I feel like shit."
He pulled back and started unbuttoning your top with a much more careful touch. Leaning in to kiss your lips with each button he undid. Gazing down as your bra came into view. It clearly matched the panties you were wearing. It was the same mauve silk but with a lace edging along the tops of the cups. 
Arthur groaned as he drug the back of his fingers along the lace. Your breath catching in your chest and making your breasts bounce slightly. With Arthur distracted by the sight of your lingerie, you took over the task of undressing. Shrugging your open blouse back off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. Letting him bring both of his hands up to play with your tits while you moved back to finish unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. 
His fingers moved to pinch at your nipples through the soft fabric as you began undoing his pants. A soft moan falling from your lips at his touches. You slipped your hand into his pants and palmed his hardening cock through his boxers. Starting to slowly stroke his length.
"Fuck, love. You keep that up I'm gonna cum in your hand."
You smiled against his lips. Your wicked side was beginning to show more as your encounter went on. You reached behind your back with one hand and unhooked your bra. Only pulling your hand from Arthur's pants to finish removing your bra so you could toss it to the side into the growing pile of discarded clothing. 
"Well, we don't want that. Better hurry up and finish undressing me then."
You hopped off the desk and brought Arthur's hands to the hook and zipper of your skirt. Bringing your lips to his throat and starting to suck and bite at his neck. Half tempted to leave your mark there for Linda to see. So she could see what she had driven the two of you to do. 
You restrained yourself, though, at least for now. Knowing that both you and Arthur would want this to be more than a one-time thing. There would be a time down the road for you to flaunt your dalliances.
Your skirt soon hit the floor, and you pushed his pants down to match. Leaving you in just your pretty mauve panties and him in his simple white boxers. Your hands exploring each other's bare skin as you kissed. His hands slipping into the back of your panties to grope your ass. Slipping them down enough for them to fall to the floor on their own. Kicking your feet to rid yourself of them completely.
He lifted you back up onto the desk now that you were totally naked. Bringing one hand around between your legs as you settled. Letting his long fingers finally touch your cunt, feeling how wet you had gotten for him already. Nuzzling into your neck, his mustache tickling you as he whispered in your ear.
"Holy fuck. You're so wet darling. You are an eager little thing ain't ya? All of this really for me?"
You mewled at his questions. Knowing that he already knew the answers. Letting your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to urge him on. Sighing in relief when you felt two of his fingers sink into your heat. The little bit of stretch making your back arch and your nails grip into his biceps. 
Arthur pulled away to watch his fingers thrust in and out of you. Growling at the sight of your slick coating his fingers. It was something he thought he would only ever fantasize about. Occasionally stroking your clit with his thumb and making your hips jerk forward. 
A smile on his face as he watched your eyes start to roll back in your head. Pulling his fingers away when he felt you starting to clench around them. Denying you your orgasm and making you pout. Your bottom lip pushed out and looking oh so biteable.
"Arthur, please. I was so close."
He chuckled as he licked your sweet nectar from his fingers. Just one taste, and he knew he was already addicted to you. Frankly he couldn't wait until he would get a chance to eat you out, but right now he needed to fuck you.
"Uh uh love, the only time you are gonna cum tonight is on my cock." 
With that, he pushed his boxers down. Finally freeing himself and giving you your first real glimpse of his cock. Standing proud and hard, just for you. His dark pink tip wet with precum. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight of him. Your legs immediately reaching to wrap around his hips and pull him to you. 
He happily let you. Loving how much you wanted him. How impatient you were to have him inside you. You were almost more impatient than he was. Your hips were bucking as soon as you felt his long length stroke through your wet folds. 
"Don't worry, love. I'm gonna give you exactly what you want. Just want to hear you ask for it. All sweet like you are when you ask me for stuff during work. Like the good little angel you are." 
You purred at his statement. You could be his little angel if that's what he wanted, but you also wanted Arthur to see your devilish side, too. So, with one hand, you braced yourself on his desk and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Giving him your best doe eyes and letting your hips wantonly grind against his shaft. Hitching your legs up even higher to spread yourself open more for him.
"Please Arthur, I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so bad. I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you for so long. Please fuck me. Make me yours Arthur." 
He growled and quickly positioned his fat tip against your weeping hole. Cursing at how wet you were. He had never felt Linda anywhere near as turned on as you were, and even though he knew that what you were about to do was wrong, it felt oh so right. So, without even thinking, he pulled off his wedding band and threw it somewhere in the distance. Not caring about having to find it later.
He grabbed a hold of your hips and kissed you fiercely. His short nails leaving imprints in your skin. He slowly started pushing into you. Your moans quieted by his kisses as he stretched you open. Eventually, bottoming out and leaving you feeling impossibly full. 
Arthur waited a moment, trying to calm his breathing and letting you adjust to him. He could hardly control himself when he looked down between you and saw his cock nestled in your cunt. Your pussy lips hugging him tightly. He couldn't help but start shallowly thrusting in and out of you. His hair falling in front of his face and his nostrils flaring. His animalistic side clawing beneath the surface. 
"Go on, Arthur. Fuck me hard. I know you want to." 
Now that he had your permission, he did exactly that. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His thrust was so hard your hips lifted off the desk. He waited a few seconds to see if you would object to his hard thrusts, and when all you did was grip onto his neck tighter, he began pounding into you faster. The desk was starting to rock underneath you and scrape across the floor. His lamp falling and the ledger books dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.
Neither of you cared, though. Your moans and grunts growing louder with each passing moment. Arthur biting into your shoulder and neck as he fucked you with abandon. Surely leaving marks that you would have to deal with tomorrow. The force of his cock knocking your breath from you.
Arthur moved one hand behind your back to hang onto you as he brought the other to your clit. Starting to stroke his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves and immediately making you clench around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular. 
"I'm gonna cum inside this perfect little cunt. You want that, eh? Just felt you squeeze me tighter darlin.  I think you're gonna cum too. Cum on my cock and I'll fill you up so good. That's it, love. Cum on your boss's cock." 
His words pushed you over the edge. Crying out Arthur's name as you spasmed around him. Your legs were shaking, and your body was threatening to collapse onto the desk below you. Arthur pulled you into his chest, keeping you upright as he kept frantically fucking you. Chasing his own high. Grunting and growling in your ear. 
After another few thrusts, you felt his hips stutter and the warmth of his release started to fill you. The most beautiful moan fell from the normally intimidating gangster. It was full of vulnerability and made you hang onto him even tighter as he filled you up. His orgasm seemed never-ending, but frankly, both of you were quite content to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.
You held each other as you came down from your orgasms. Kissing and wiping the sweat from each other's brows. Caressing each other and letting your heart rates fall. Both of you groaning when Arthur finally pulled out of you. Taking a moment to watch his cum start to leak out of you. 
With a cheeky smirk on his face, he scooped it back up and rubbed it over your swollen sex making you gasp before bringing what was left on his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his seed from his fingers. Your tongue dancing and licking up every drop. His smile growing and a soft 'good girl' quietly fell from his lips.
The two of you slowly helped each other redress. Arthur, taking an extra moment to admire the sight of you in your beautiful silk underwear before helping you with your skirt and blouse. You couldn't help but smile as you redid his bowtie for him. His fingers drawing little shapes on your lower back as you did. Brushing his hair back into place and smoothing down his mustache before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Neither of you quite ready to leave the imaginary world you created together. 
He let go of you and went out to your desk. Watching him gather your jacket and handbag as you slipped your shoes back on. Coming back and placing your handbag on his desk while he worked to straighten out your coat.
"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you home, eh? I'm not letting you walk home alone at this time of night with those gorgeous legs bare and on display."
You slipped your garters into your handbag. Having no use for them now that your stockings were in Arthur's trash bin. Letting him slip your coat on before taking his own long dark coat that was far too large for you and slipping it over your shoulders. You buried your nose in the collar. Inhaling the scent of Arthur's cologne.
You looked out at the mess still sitting on the floor around your desk. Sighing at the work that still needed to be done.
"What about that mess, Arthur? I still need to clean all of that up."
He took your hand in his and started leading you to the door. Not really caring if anyone saw him holding your hand. After tonight he really couldn't give a fuck who saw you together. Come the light of day he knew he would probably feel guilty and tomorrow he would probably find himself crawling around the floor of his office to find his wedding ring. It wouldn't stop him from coming back to you again and again, and he knew both of you knew it. Tonight though he just wanted to indulge in you without the guilt. 
"Fuck it. I'll make Finn and Isiah do it in the morning. You've got more important work now. Besides I'm thinking you'll be a bit tired tomorrow by the time you come in."
--------------------------------
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mydear-corinthian · 27 days
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Fainting || Shelby brothers x reader
Sypnosis: How they react when you faint. Pairings: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader, Arthur Shelby x reader (individual) Warnings: mentions of fainting (reader), pregnancy, skipping meals, may be out of characters, may contain a spoiler. Note: Not proofread. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.
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THOMAS 'TOMMY' SHELBY
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🥃 His face shows calmness but deep down he is already panicking. 
🥃Tommy just went back from his paperwork in his office when he saw your son on your arms, cradling him to sleep. "Why aren't you asleep yet, love?" he asked you, giving a kiss on your forehead before taking the little baby on your arms to his instead. You sighed in exhaustion, your lips were chapped, your face was pale as a ghost, your once neat hair bun turned into a madness; little strands of your hair was detached from your messy bun.  🥃 "I was just waiting for Charlie to sleep." you answered. His brow raised a little, showing a sign of confusion. "Then why are you so pale? You look like you've seen a ghost," his fingers found the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. Charlie finally stopped crying, his eyes fell down as he snuggled on his father. "I'm just tired, that's all." reassuring your husband as you replied. Your husband gently placed your child on the white wooden crib, letting the baby sleep comfortably. He was starting to get worried, your breaths aren't steady, the way you denied that you aren't fine even though you look sick, his heart itched. 
🥃 Holding your shoulders with his rough palms, he asked again, "Are you sure, (y/n)?" Your vision was starting to get cloudy, you felt like the floor and the walls were shaking, Tommy's voice felt like it was speaking to you from afar. Your hands met his hands, gripping them tightly for security before you passed out. "(Y/n)? Are yo- (y/n)!" the sight of your body falling into his arms made his sentence cut off, he gasped your name, there was a tone of a rough yell at the same time. His body shows signs of calmness except for the eyes; the eyes never lies. Thoughts were racing on his mind, full of what ifs and worrying what will happen to you.
🥃 When you woke up, Tommy was beside your bed, sleeping uncomfortably on the wooden chair. His arms were crossed, his clothes were still the same indicating that he was 100% focused on you while you passed out. You called out his name softly, trying to reach his arms. The sound of your soft voice woke him from his uncomfortable slumber. He stood almost immediately, how are you doing. "How are you now?" his palms cupping your right cheek. "I'm fine, Tommy." you replied, holding his hand that was on your cheek, caressing it with your thumb. He sighed in relief, "The nurse said you were stressed and your stomach is empty," "I know, I'm sorry. I was so busy taking care of Charlie, I forgot to eat." you replied, your head dropped, you felt embarrassed. 
🥃 His head shook, both of his palms were now on your cheeks, his glowing blue eyes locked with yours. The way he's using his eyes as his language. "Shhh.., no need to apologize, thank you for taking care of our Charlie. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you." "Thank you for understanding, love. It's okay, I understand how busy you are in the betting shop." you said, giving him a kiss which thankfully he returned it. Tommy's personal nurse knock on the door before entering your shared room, her arms carrying a plastic tray with your favorite food and a warm tea. Your husband placed the tray on the small table near the bed, giving you a plate of your food. "Eat, you'll feel better."
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JOHN SHELBY
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🚬 You've been feeling unwell lately. Your head ached, your muscles were sore, you had strange food cravings, and you felt sick in the morning. You knew what this hinted at, but you can't be positive, and the last thing that should be checked is that your period is late.
🚬It was an awful day. You vomited in the morning, and your joints hurt. Washing off the vomit from the metallic sink, you checked the date on the small white calendar beside you.
🚬 You were definitely late. For over a week now.
🚬 Sighing in exhaustion, you accepted the outcome of what would happen to you. Your partner, John, had already gotten you pregnant before. This will be your fourth child. - You weren't precisely sorry about it, but you were worried about what would happen to your unborn child, and you felt stressed out because of your job as an accountant for Shelbys. There was a lot of paperwork to be done, but not as much as Tommy had, but it was still exhausting.
🚬 It was already ten in the morning., John was gone on business, and the rest of your children were in school. The house was now yours alone, and there was food on the circular dish on the dining table that John had left for you before leaving to start his day. You finished the meal. Your stomach was now satisfied, but your muscles remained sore.
🚬 Grunting in pain, you approached to the front door as you heard a knock. You opened it to see your husband standing there. His peaky hat adorned his hair, and a light wooden toothpick displayed his lips rather than his thick tobacco. "John? Your shift isn't going to end for hours," you questioned as John entered the room and removed his hat. "I know; I just want to see you," John said. You chuckled at his response and taunted, "I'm your wife, John. You literally see me every day." "It's just that you've been feeling ill lately, and I needed to take care of you, so I left the office early," he explained, his arms gently gripping your hips.
🚬 "Honestly love, it's fine. I can handle it, I just need to re-", fefore you could finish your sentence, your head felt like it had erupted. Your temples felt like they were twisting. Your vision was becoming increasingly fuzzy, and your husband's sight was beginning to fade away. He called your name worriedly, catching your attention. He tried again, but this time louder. All you could hear was your husband calling your name and a long bell sound. His hands tightened around your hips, stabilizing your body. His eyes were filled with concern. Suddenly, your legs and muscles gave out, and your frail body fell onto his broad arms. Your face was pale and your lips were dehydrated. Panicking, he quickly lays you down on the vintage couch. He contacted his aunt, Polly, for help.
🚬 "She's pregnant." Polly announced to his nephew, who was pacing back and forth and unintentionally messing with his hair while his aunt checked on his wife. "H-How so?" he asked. "Well, maybe it's because the both of you fucked?" Polly coldly responds. This gave John an unimpressed expression. "The morning nausea, unusual cravings, the sore muscles, all that you mentioned it," she said. "Oh for fuck sakes, John, give (y/n) a rest. Every year she's fucking pregnant, control that cock of yours." Polly's statement made him laugh. John was happy that they are again to bear a kid but he can't also help but get worried and scared at the same time since getting into labour's hard. "Thank you, aunt Polly," he thanked the older Shelby, helping her make way to the door. "Take good care of her, John,"
-🚬 "I will." 🚬 You woke up, your clothes has been changed and there was a glass of water on the table near the couch you were laying down on. You called your husband's name, hoping that he was still here. "How are you, love?" he asked, combing your hair with his fingertips. "I'm fine now. John, I-I think I'm.. pregn-" "Pregnant." he cut you off. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, looking at him, his face was plastered with a big smile. "Aunt Polly told me. I called her for help when you passed out. When did you knew that you were pregnant?" "Just today, I already accepted that my period was late and I'm bearing your child again." you answered, emphasizing. "Hey, I can't help it you know, you're just so pretty, I can't help but fuc-" "John!" embarrassed by his reply, you cut him off. Your cheeks heat up at his answer. "What, it's true! Let me take care of you, love."
🚬 "As you should, Mr. Shelby." 🚬 "I will, Mrs. Shelby."
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ARTHUR SHELBY JR.
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🥊 Marriage to a man like Arthur Shelby was dangerous. Risky in the sense that you are afraid your illness will worsen. 🥊 Arthur was a good partner to you. He is both a provider and a lover. However, he was a heavy smoker. You can see him smoking his thick tobacco every day; it's as if he can't function without it.
🥊 It was an ordinary morning; you were just staying at home, and he was smoking brown tobacco. The hazardous air entered his lungs, and he exhaled the surplus air very near you. This has been going on for several days. His smoking became worse as a result of his distress about what had happened to his father. His father abandoned them for years, and when he returned, he left them again. You choked as he exhaled the noxious air, but it was even worse. Your coughing episode lasted over five minutes, burning your throat and making your heart race. When your partner spotted the never-ending fit, he promptly discarded the unfinished cancer stick. "Hey, love, breathe," he patted your back hardly. Thankfully, your coughing fit ended, but you were beginning to notice little spots all over you. You blinked rapidly, attempting to get rid of the spots. "Hey - are you okay?" Arthur asked. "Arthur, I can't - can't see clearly." You worried and looked everywhere. Your heart pounded quickly, and your breathing became heavy. Your dizziness gradually overtook you as you fainted.
🥊 When you awoke, you expected to be in your room, but instead you saw grey walls and a strange mattress. You looked around the room before calling your husband's name. The wooden door opened, and the oldest Shelby brother entered the room. As he approached you, he removed his peaky hat. His face expresses worry and sorrow. He sadly smiled and reached out for a hug, which you accepted. You were panicking deep inside. You've been hiding your disease since you met your husband; you didn't want him to find out because it might make him upset or, worse, leave you.
🥊 There was an unpleasant silence in the room before Arthur chose to break it. "How are you managing now, (y/n)?" he asked with a heavily sigh. "I'm feeling better now, fortunately." There was more silence. "The doctor says you have arrhythmia .. it looks like you have it for quite some time now. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
🥊You always assumed that this day would come, but you didn't expect it to be today. Your mind is filled up with thousands of unpleasant thoughts. 'What if he leaves me?' 'My life would end without me' 'What do I-' "(Y/n?)" Shaking your head, you determined to give him the truth, even if the outcome wasn't pleasant for you. You took a long breath and eventually explained to him. "When I was a child, I had a very narrow arteries. It got worse when I grew up and the doctor diagnosed me about it. I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, Arthur."
🥊 His hands found the side of your face and gently stroked your cheekbones. "It's okay, love. I understand. And I'm sorry for smoking all around you. I won't do it again." He kissed your forehead before massaging your back. "It's fine, Arthur; you didn't know." You smiled as you held his hands on your cheeks.
🥊 "We'll be fine, right?"
🥊 "We will." THE END
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