#little lady blinder

[hb-writes]

Mirrors

Summary: It’s 1922 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but he did know that there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane. There seemed to be very little space between his sister and his wife though, something that bothered John more than he cared to admit, the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara.

Request (from @cas-kingdom): “What do you need?” “You.” would be totally adorable for John & Clara. Congrats on 4 years of LLB!!

(Note: this is the second story based on the same prompt because both ideas bit me and I couldn’t let go.)

Characters: John Shelby, Esme Shelby, Elias Shelby, and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: nothing much, I think.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

John allowed a good natured roll of his eyes as the front door eased open. The damn thing had creaked from the very day he and Martha moved in. John could’ve fixed it easily, but after all this time, he decided he liked the familiarity of it. He didn’t mind his brothers joking that John did not lock his doors because the creaking was so loud it would alert him of any intruders. It reminded him of Martha and it did serve as a sort of warning, especially in the quiet of an emptied out house. 

As he heard the sound now, John wondered which of the kids would be coming back through to intrude on his peace. One of them must’ve forgotten something—that wasn’t a surprise. A favorite toy, a hat, a shoe…John wouldn’t be surprised whatever it was. Especially if it was Katie. John was quite certain that little girl would lose her head if it wasn’t properly attached. 

She mirrored her Uncle Finn in that way—a little scattered, always on the bloody move. John thought he could see a bit of his brothers and sisters and himself reflected in each of the kids and some days, on coming home to the raucous bunch, he was reminded of his childhood in the best and the worst of ways. And even though John was their father, he felt almost as if he simply melted into their dynamic. Some days, it was a relief to lose himself in his children—to pass a few hours being silly and carefree. But other evenings, it was too much to come home to the familiar attitudes and behaviors, little copies of the trying family members he’d spent all day dealing with. 

Days like that—days like today—Esme took them all out of the house to give John time to decompress after arriving home for the shop. Like a premonition, Esme always seemed to know, even without John realizing he needed it.  

But he did need it. 

Some days depending on what he was tasked with, John just needed a moment to come back to himself before being with the kids, to let all the other stuff fall away, to be reminded that the family dynamics he’d grown up with didn’t have to be the same ones he raised his kids with. That the traits his kids had gotten from the rest of the Shelbys were just that—traits. His frustrations with his brothers and his aunts had no need of being taken out on his kids...on his wife. 

John knew it, but he wasn’t always aware of it creeping in. Esme always seemed to sense it better than he did. She knew when her husband needed to get himself straight. She never called attention to it though, always able to make up some perfectly reasonable excuse for why all of the children needed to come with her and leave the house empty for a bit even if it was just before dinner time. Even if it was not remotely convenient for her or the kids.  

And there was something about Esme’s way that those kids, the ones who always had a million protests and questions…they never questioned it when she announced they were going out. They didn’t back talk to her the way they might to John. It was like she held some sort of magic over them all. John thought sometimes maybe she did. 

Esme Shelby Lee certainly had him in a thrall, anyway. 

They’d only be gone for half an hour, but that would be time enough. John took a sip of his drink, still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table as he waited for whoever it was to come back through. Sarah, he hoped. John figured he could handle his oldest daughter for just a few minutes.

Yes, he decided. He far preferred it to be Sarah coming through the door. He couldn’t handle any of the other children just now—not Katie, who was a bit like Finn, or Joey, who was somehow both a bit of Tommy and a bit of Arthur at the same time, and certainly not Robbie, who was too much like John. Thankfully, the baby wasn’t like much of anyone yet, not discernibly anyway, but he knew his infant wouldn’t be crawling through the door. 

John took another sip of his drink as careful footsteps sounded in the front room. He knew it wasn’t just the time alone but also the glass of whiskey that eased the day’s tensions. Somewhere along the line, he’d convinced himself it helped. He’d convinced himself he needed it. 

John called out before the kitchen door swung open. “What do you need—” 

He started as his sister came through the door, still in her school uniform, looking like she’d run the whole way there from the other side of Birmingham. “Oh—Clara. Uh…Esme’s out with the—”

Clara shook her head. “No,” she choked out, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the bag of school books fell to the floor. Her eyes were rimmed red with tears and John realized she wasn’t just out of breath from running here. 

“Alright,” John shifted in his chair. “What do you—?”

“You. John, I—” The words came out hard, like whatever she intended to say really was a need and not a want. As Clara’s voice devolved into a sob, she became incoherent to her brother, whatever else she had been about to tell him lost in the tears and uncontrollable breathing. John had not a single clue as to what it might have been his sister needed, what she was trying to tell him. It usually frustrated him a bit, having to guess at whatever Clara wasn’t saying and lately, Esme had been taking over where Clara was concerned. Esme understood her better. He figured it was a female thing. 

He’d grown used to his sister showing up unannounced or inviting herself over for dinner or for a long weekend. Most of the time, she was looking for Esme, but she’d been spending more time with them in general—with him, and Esme, and the kids. Clara and Esme had formed a certain bond though, a bit of a conspiratorial relationship that John didn’t wholly understand or particularly enjoy. There were secrets between his wife and his sister that he wasn’t comfortable with them having though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the details. Esme often informed him that what she and Clara talked about wasn’t any of his business, anyway. 

John let it be. He tried for acceptance, but he would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t bother him just a bit—the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara and making him a little jealous that his sister seemed to be closer with his wife than him these days.

John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane. 

And it still hadn’t seemed enough for Clara. She filled her time with finding excuses to be away from Arrow House, passing her weekends with John and Esme when she could manage it, but John wasn’t expecting her at his place now—not for a few hours, at least. 

She should’ve been across the city in a classroom still. Or maybe, she should’ve been just about to head over to the office down on Jamaica Row. Someone was probably waiting on her at the school. 

A Blinder.

The high and mighty King Thomas, himself, maybe. 

It didn’t quite matter who was waiting on Clara though because she was here, in John’s kitchen, sputtering on the other side of the room. Whatever tension that had been clinging to John, the tension that had had Esme taking the kids out within a minute of him passing over the threshold eased. John’s mind stopped working to figure his sister out, to make sense of her sudden presence, deciding it didn’t quite matter. He stood up and crossed the kitchen to pull Clara against his chest. 

Clara held her brother tight, immediately shifting so her arms were clinging onto him. 

“Alright. It’s alright,” John soothed. Part of him wished she’d loosen her hold on him just a bit, but he didn’t moan or try to shift her any, letting her take what she needed for as long as she wanted. 

John eased his hold when Clara started to pull away, lifting her arm to wipe at her face while she leaned her head against his chest. 

“Does Tommy know—?”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled. “Tommy can fuck off.”

John snorted. “Don’t want to get on your bad side, eh?” 

Clara pushed away from John and shoved her elbow into his side.

“Oi! Knock it off!” he huffed, pulling Clara back to his chest and settling her in a gentle headlock. “Thought you wanted me.”

Clara sighed. She tugged his arm down and settled against him once again. “I do.”

“Be nice then,” John mumbled. He placed a kiss on Clara’s head.

Clara took a deep breath, her eyes trained on the floor as she scuffed her feet against the well-worn hardwood. “I want to come home.”

John settled his hand on his sister's head. “You are home, Clara.”

His house was as good as hers, the way he saw it. She certainly spent enough time there.

“No, John.” Clara shook her head against him. “I want to be back for good. Back on Watery Lane.”

John hummed, but the sound was neutral—more of an acknowledgement than anything else. They both knew it wasn’t up to them, either one of them. Tommy said where Clara went. He said where she rested her head and where she learned her sums and where she was employed. The arrangement wasn’t documented or official, but it was good as law as far as they were all concerned. For years and years, it had been that way. 

“What’s brought this on?” He asked. 

“I just want to be here,” Clara answered. “I can help with the kids and—”

“There’ll be a kid at Arrow House you can help with soon enough,” John said. 

Clara shook her head. She’d already decided that Tommy and Grace would have no need of her help. They had already hired a full staff for the house, nanny and all. They’d have Mary look after Charles. And Clara was quite certain that Mary didn’t like her. 

“Tommy doesn’t need me,” she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “He doesn’t want me…said he doesn’t need me at the office anymore. Doesn’t want me in the business anymore.”

“He said all that?”

Clara pretended to sift through her mind for Tommy’s exact words, though she remembered them very clearly. He’d been so short in his explanations, his decree that she was done working for now, but it hadn’t felt to Clara like Tommy’s heart was in it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Clara said. “She’s put him up to it…she thinks I need to be focused on my schooling….but I can do both. If he doesn’t need me downtown, I can work in the shop instead, can’t I? You could use me and I can stay here and help with the kids and—“

“Of course I could use you,” John said, knowing his sister was better with math than most of the other buffoons in the shop and that Esme would probably relish in having his sister to lend a hand with the kids, “but if Tommy says—“

“I don’t care what Tommy says. He’s not—“

“In charge of us?” John suggested, cutting her off. “I’m surprised he’s not here already to collect you and give us both a telling off.”

Clara deflated a bit. “Can’t you just tell him I’m staying with you? Just tell him you and Esme need me to sit with the kids tonight?”

“Yeah, and are you actually going to sit with them?” he asked.

“I can…if you want,” she said, the volume of her voice lowering as she continued. “But maybe you and Esme want to stay in? I’m sure the kids would like it.” 

John hummed. “Yeah, the kids would like it, sure.” 

It wasn’t as if Clara’s words were untrue. John knew his kids would love a night in with their parents and aunt as Clara suggested, but there was more to it than that. It was Clara who wanted her brother close. It was Clara who wanted a night on Watery Lane, insulated from the rest of her world by her brother and sister-in-law and nieces and nephews. 

“Can you talk to him?” 

John sighed, nodding despite himself. “But if he wants you home, I’m not fighting him. It’s not worth it, alright? If he puts up a fight, you go on for the weekend and you can come to us next week as planned.” 

Clara nodded, “And working in the shop?” 

Clara let the question linger, cutting

“If you sort things with Tommy…” Clara cut into her brother’s thoughts as she heard the front door creak open, hoping it wasn’t Tommy coming to find her. “I’ll sort our dinner tonight…” 

Esme came into the kitchen with all five children in tow. She plopped the baby in John’s arms and handed the bag of groceries to Clara before lowering herself into the chair and running her hands over her swollen belly. 

“If your sister’s offering to cook me dinner, you do whatever she wants, John.”

John had no desire to get between his brother and his sister. He had enough disagreements racked up with Tommy without counting Clara’s concerns, but John could tell she needed it. She needed to feel someone was on her side, hearing her, listening to her. He knew what it was to feel like no one was listening. And he wasn’t sure Tommy would listen to him, but Polly might. He figured she might be willing to talk to Tommy. And Tommy might be willing to listen if it was Polly’s voice he was hearing.

And now that Esme was involved, it didn’t seem he had much of a choice in the matter anyway. 

“Your mother’s said her piece. I guess we’d best go make a few phone calls for your auntie, eh, Eli?” The baby in his lap lifted a chubby hand and smacked it against John’s cheek. He went back for a second and third hit, laughter spilling from his little mouth, seemingly trying to move his father along.

“Alright, mate. Hold on,” John said, standing himself and the baby up and heading toward the telephone. 

John paused just over the threshold. He could hear his wife and sister talking, Esme’s voice followed by Clara’s laughter.

Elias patted John’s face again, pulling his attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m going, I’m going,” John said as he continued away from the kitchen.

 It would usually have set John a bit on edge, hearing his sister and wife start talking and laughing as soon as he was out of the room, but just now it eased something in John knowing he wasn’t alone in all of this. It was a comfort knowing that his wife knew not just what he needed, but what his kids needed, and his sister, too. 

As John lifted the handset, waiting for the operator to connect, Elias cuddled into his father’s chest. John knew the boy had inherited his looks from the Shelby side, but as another bit of tension inside of him melted away at the baby's touch, John thought maybe the boy's intuitive, kind heart might mirror that of his mother. 

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby #esme lee #esme shelby #shelby sister #shelby!sister #little lady blinder #clara shelby #elias shelby #raise a glass to llb

[denimbex1986]

'In one corner, veteran heavyweight Christopher Nolan. In the other, nimble visionary Greta Gerwig. Their big films come out on the same day – but whose will triumph at the box office?

We live in divisive times. Opinion is more tribal and entrenched than ever, the value of reasoned argument and willing compromise plummeting by the day. This volatility could spread to the multiplex next month, where a battle of the blockbusters is destined to make previous cinematic standoffs – Mothra v Godzilla, Alien v Predator, Kramer vs Kramer – look like games of playground pat-a-cake. Get ready, then, for Barbie v Oppenheimer.

Directed by celebrated auteurs (Greta Gerwig and Christopher Nolan respectively), and hyped by multiple trailers over the past year, both movies are scheduled to open on the same crowded day. Forget your QR codes: this is one time to buy a physical ticket and save the stub to show your grandchildren. Future generations will want to know where you stood on 21 July 2023 when Barbie met the bomb.

In the pink corner is Gerwig’s DayGlo toy story starring Margot Robbie as Barbie and Ryan Gosling as Ken, who while away their days happily but vacuously in Barbie-land. In a plot apparently borrowed from Enchanted and The Purple Rose of Cairo, with a dash of Don’t Worry Darling, they swap their cosseted fairytale existence for our harsh modern world. (The trailer shows Barbie having her police mugshot taken after walloping a Venice Beach groper in the face.) The cast incorporates hot young things Issa Rae, Simu Liu, Kingsley Ben-Adir, Jamie Demetriou and, most excitingly, the new Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa, as well as old hands Michael Cera, Kate McKinnon and Will Ferrell; Helen Mirren is on narrating duties.

The 39-year-old Gerwig is arguably as big a selling point as Robbie or Gosling, as well as a guarantor of quality control. The three-time Oscar nominee directed Lady Bird and Little Women, as well as co-directing with Joe Swanberg the long-distance love story Nights and Weekends, back in the days when she was the doyenne of the lo-fi indie “mumblecore” movement. Her co-writer on Barbie is her partner, the director Noah Baumbach, with whom she wrote gems such as Frances Ha and Mistress America. Back in 2010 when she was promoting Greenberg, the bittersweet Baumbach comedy which became her Hollywood springboard, she spoke of her childhood habit of jumbling up the letters in her name: “In second grade, I’d be writing ‘Great Gerwig, Great Gerwig’ on everything,” she said. These days, it’s more than just an anagram.

Her opponent is the 52-year-old Nolan, a five-time Oscar nominee who has heft on his side. His is the weightier directing CV (12 films), with Oppenheimer his longest yet: he recently confirmed that it is “kissing three hours”, which makes it more than an hour longer than Barbie. This is serious, spectacular event cinema, shot with Imax cameras and booked long ago into all that format’s venues – to the apparent chagrin of Tom Cruise, whose latest Mission: Impossible adventure opens a week earlier but will be relegated to smaller screens the instant Oppenheimer drops.

Nolan’s cast is every bit as impressive as Gerwig’s; as well as the perpetually haunted Cillian Murphy as the physicist Robert J Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb, Nolan has assembled Florence Pugh, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Rami Malek, Robert Downey Jr, Gary Oldman and Kenneth Branagh. The chances of any of them rollerblading à la Gosling in Barbie are negligible, which may help explain why Gerwig’s film is on track to have the more impressive opening weekend. Not that Oppenheimer will exactly bomb.

Barbie also has the edge when it comes to marketing opportunities, as might be expected of any movie adapted from merchandise. This goes way beyond the valley of the dolls: among the many tie-in products is an inflatable Barbie pool-float golf-cart, a Barbie dog’s basket, and an electric toothbrush capable of 36,000 sonic vibrations a minute – the same effect you get from watching Oppenheimer in Imax.

Unlike Barbie, Nolan’s film probably doesn’t have its own Exclusive Oral Beauty Partner, though given his protagonist’s chain-smoking tendencies there may be a teeth-whitening deal in the offing. And we shouldn’t rule out Oppenheimer throwing its hat in the ring when it comes to headgear. As far back as 2010, one plaintive user on thefedoralounge.com was searching “for a lid like the one the famous nuclear physicist wore,” citing a “2½-inch snap brim and a very thin ribbon” and concluding that “such a hat would be positively atomic”. Factor in the Cillian Murphy effect – this is the man who helped popularise the Peaky Blinders newsboy cap/undercut combo – and the Oppenheimer fedora and brown wool coat could be the look to replace Barbie’s summery pink once the nippier months roll around.

Some mild shade has already been thrown between the film’s respective camps on social media. “Greta Gerwig could do Oppenheimer but Christopher Nolan couldn’t do Barbie,” observed one tweet. Another overreached by proposing that “Margot Robbie could do Oppenheimer but Cillian Murphy couldn’t do Barbie” – clearly the work of someone who has never seen him in Breakfast on Pluto or Peacock. But the encouraging thing about the Barbie v Oppenheimer discourse is that, by and large, it has not followed the contours that often prevail in our online interactions. For anyone who loves cinema, the vibe feels closer to a cuddle than a cage fight.

There is real genius in this tactic of opening films catering for different audiences on the same day (known as counter-programming). The canny part is not what separates Nolan and Gerwig but what unites them: despite a clear contrast of style and sensibility, both directors possess a comparable skill, intelligence and passion, and tend to inspire loyalty in their fans. This same situation could never have arisen had Oppenheimer been pitted against, say, The Super Mario Bros Movie. Though that film is a smash, having grossed more than $1bn worldwide to date, it has nothing in it to propel cultural conversation along with profits.

Opening two films together that share similar DNA would also produce less of a spark. The experience of going to an afternoon screening of Ghostbusters on opening day in December 1984, then coming out and going straight back in to see Gremlins at teatime, was thrilling for my friends and me as 13-year-olds (especially as Gremlins was rated 15), but it was a routine sort of double bill on reflection: both were comedies that trafficked in the scary or supernatural.

What makes the combination of Barbie and Oppenheimer sing is that it is unlikely but not nonsensical. And though the films’ subjects are markedly different, there will be some overlap between their audiences. The major Rorschach test of our era, one Twitter user has suggested, will be whether you follow Oppenheimer with Barbie or vice versa. It’s no longer the case of “either/or” that it first appeared to be but rather “which one first?”. The Picturehouse chain is even extending the double bill idea by screening a selection of both directors’ past work in the coming weeks; audiences can see Lady Bird take flight alongside Interstellar, or pair Little Women and Dunkirk in a double bill of wartime stories, albeit from different wars.

Contrary to the way the rivalry was initially framed, this is no replay of the hostile Blur v Oasis Britpop war of the mid-1990s. Even the formulation of Barbie v Oppenheimer misrepresents the tenor of this unusual pairing: shouldn’t it be the more harmonious Barbie x Oppenheimer, in the style of today’s brand collaborations? Whichever film prevails financially, the result will be less meaningful to audiences than what these movies represent in a post-pandemic landscape that has seen famished exhibitors begging for new product.

Next month’s clash only came about in the first place because of Nolan’s commitment to cinemas over streaming. He would likely have set up Oppenheimer at his usual home, Warner Bros, had that studio not instigated a policy in 2021 (no longer in force today) of releasing its films simultaneously in cinemas and on HBO Max, in response to uncertainty during the pandemic. (Nolan, remember, had ruled out a streaming release for his previous film, Tenet, back in 2020 when cinema exhibition was at its most precarious.) Warner Bros still hopes to woo him back. Barbie is a Warners film, and if the studio had been distributing both pictures, they would never have let them go out on the same day. But Nolan took Oppenheimer to Universal – hence the scheduling pile-up.

No matter. The impact of Covid and the streaming revolution have been bruising, even in some cases annihilating, to parts of the industry. But contrary to the tagline from Alien Vs Predator – “Whoever wins … we lose” – the outcome of Barbie opening in lockstep with Oppenheimer can only be positive. Whichever one triumphs, cinema rules.'

#Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Cillian Murphy #Barbie #Greta Gerwig #Margot Robbie #Tenet #Dunkirk #Ryan Gosling #Emily Blunt #Rami Malek #Matt Damon #Lady Bird #Peaky Blinders #Little Women

[the-phantom-author]

On We Could Build A Home parts 1 and 2

"snippets into being neighbors with wil, making the best of the worst" ~@pebblebrainlovejoy

James Baldwin, Beale Street Could Talk // Anna Akhmatova, The Guest // Osip Mandelstam, Night Piece // Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena // Frog And Toad // Poetry Hidden In The Tags // Richard Siken, Anyways // Éric Rohmer, A Summers Tale //

#okay so-let me explain #sometimes i get urge to make web weavings- especially since the little lady blinder ones I made #i hope it's apparent that i miss the dynamic of part 1&2 Wil and reader #i also plan to make a part for 3-5 of wcbah #but that might take a bit #anyways... #web weaving #parallels #Wilbur soot x reader #we could build a home #wcbah

[xvirgokissesx]

NEW BLOG LOOKING FOR MOOTS

Hey everyone! I decided to completely start fresh on my Tumblr and I find Twitter to be sucking my spirit so I thought i’d make new friends on here.

Some info about me:

20 years old

black and latina

she/her pronouns

bisexual

currently in university studying pop culture journalism, music, and entertainment business

i’m a writer (journalism and autobiographical essays mainly)

late bloomer

minors dni

My interests include:

Music

Taylor Swift (gaylors dni respectfully)

Harry Styles (Larries dni respectfully)

Billie Eilish

Lana Del Rey

Ethel Cain

mitski

inhaler

90s and 2000s indie rock

50s and 60s doowop and motown

Movies (some of my faves)

scream franchise

any david fincher film

almost famous

never been kissed

dead poets society

little women

lady bird

the perks of being a wallflower

TV

glee (i’m not ashamed)

scandal

peaky blinders

normal people

Miscellaneous

high fashion

celebrity culture

irish women writers

homoerotic friendships that end in flames

#harry styles #glee #little women #lana del rey #billie eilish #taylor swift #scream #lady bird #never been kissed #almost famous #gone girl #the social network #dead poets society #ethel cain #oasis #blur #inhaler #normal people #peaky blinders

[motherofdogs1010]

Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence

😊 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😊 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.

The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?

"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"

"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."

It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.

He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"

Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.

"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"

Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.

Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"

"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.

She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."

Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.

"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.

"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."

Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.

Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.

"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."

"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.

"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."

Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.

"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.

Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.

He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.

"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."

His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.

Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.

She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.

Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.

"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."

Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.

Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.

"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.

"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.

"Quite the performance you put on."

She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.

"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."

She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #reader insert #thomas shelby

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.

Words - 2,742

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is... 

“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”  

“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!” 

“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”  

Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!” 

You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.” 

“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?” 

Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.” 

“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.  

“All alley cats, the lot of ya!” 

“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!” 

A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat. 

He can work a little harder than that.  

The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.  

“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!” 

Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?” 

Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.” 

“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”  

Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?” 

You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.  

You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.  

“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.  

You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.” 

His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”  

The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?” 

You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.  

You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.  

“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.  

John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.  

“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.  

“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.  

He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.  

He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.  

The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.  

Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.  

The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.  

He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head. 

Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until... 

“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?” 

“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.  

“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.  

“Please what, bab?” 

You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”  

“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.” 

“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.  

“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.  

His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.  

No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”  

He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.  

His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips. 

The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.  

“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”  

You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.  

Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.  

You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.  

“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him. 

“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.  

“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”  

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #joe cole #john shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: When starting the vendetta with the Peaky Blinders, Luca Changretta didn't expect you, Arthur's wife, to be the one meeting him. Now that you're facing him, he's determined to make you understand who leads the dance. It's a man's world after all! || Featuring Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 6.7k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, drug use, slight allusions to sex, canonical misogyny, quick allusions to domestic abuse, witchcraft (canonical since PB flirts with it sometimes), fluff, Arthur is as fucked up as cute, depictions of slaughter and body horror. The last part of this chapter is a flash forward. What happened will be described in the next chapter.

Notes:

✞ The mentioned character of Aurora, Luca's wife, belonged to @zablife.

✞ The bold sentence Heaven says comes from Lana Del Rey.

✞ This is chapter 15 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Usually, each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The dim glow of luxuriant chandeliers cast their orange light over the bar, their warm hue sublimating the rich notes of aged oak from which the counter had been sculpted. Standing alone on a barstool with your crystal gaze fixed on the swirling depths of your glass of red wine, you relished how the liquid gracefully danced and caught the light in a hypnotizing display of crimson elegance. Smooth as silk, its robe was deprived of lees and hugged your throat at each sip. It had been a while since you hadn't drunk such fine alcohol, and this experiment was almost enough to make you forget the curious glances of some noisy clients. As rare as it was to see a woman drinking by herself at the bar without the company of a gentleman due to the prohibited nature of such actions, no one had dared confront you about the matter yet. The waiter had thought of doing so because it didn't feel right to him but one look at the deadly frost of your eyes had been efficient enough for him to swallow his words and mind his own business. Wise decision, you weren't in the mood to be polite. There had been something off in the way you had stared at him, like a wild cat waiting for its prey to come just a little bit closer to pounce on it. He quickly lowered his gaze and went on with wiping down his glass, definitely not taking the risk of causing a scene. Bringing the expensive glass to your plump lips, you froze mid-movement at the sudden feeling of someone's presence behind your back. So, he came. Your mouth slowly curled in a cold, sardonic smirk. Your special guest didn't bother to greet you. Instead, he simply put his fedora hat on the bar counter right where the corner of your eyes you could see it.

"Isn't it the lady who should play hard to get?" You stated before drowning your sarcasm with a gulp of wine, its complex and refined taste displaying all its flavors on your tongue. So far, it has been one of the few places in which the wine was exquisite. And French, of course.

Swiftly slipping between two barstools, the man sat next to you — all his movements, measured and confident, denoted an indescribable elegance.

"So?" A collected and alluring voice inquired, wasting no time in futile courtesy nor in answering your taunt. He would have been surprised if his men hadn't warned him that you were the kind of woman to never be at a loss for words. Just like the two other harpies of the Shelby clan though.

"So, you spare my husband." You finished your glass and put it back on the wooden counter with a movement that translated both your firmness and determination. If there was one thing he had learned throughout his gangster life it was to pay attention to details. Since the very beginning of his criminal activities, Luca always focused on the way someone moved, especially because body language often said much more about people than words themselves. Contrary to prose, the body never lied, and concerning yours the signals were rather clear: you wouldn't cave in. "Oh, and you also spare Finn but it stands to reason. He's just a kid after all." Your request, spoken with a measured yet Artic calmness, snatched an amused snort from the threatening man. How did you dare bargain with him about who would die and who would live while your place wasn't in men's business? Luca slightly shook his head, disconcerted by the fact that the random wife of an enemy could behave so insolently with him while he could easily end her life with the gun he was hiding under his four-digit price jacket.

"In return for what?" His sharp eyes fixed intently on your dainty frame as he spoke. His expression, usually veiled in stoic composure, betrayed a keen attentiveness that mirrored his interest. Making himself comfortable on the barstool, he withdrew a matchbox from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the muted light. With languid grace, he extracted a match, the small stick cradled between his fingers, and brought it to his lips.

"Tommy Shelby." Your voice resounded like a chilling death knell when you pronounced these syllables nonchalantly as if selling one of your in-laws was nothing but one of the many formalities to retrieve your peaceful life. Such apathy was a bit chilling he reckoned. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he held the match delicately between his teeth. After a while, you eventually condescended to look at the man, your iris meeting the splendid green of his. The same green eyes that squinted a little bit now that they had a clear sight of your doll face, whose cold beauty made him wonder what the hell such a delicate thing like you was doing here, involving herself in the middle of intricating gang wars.

"Well, interesting." He mused, a part of him genuinely excited at the thought of butchering Tommy, the other still intrigued by you and how you contrasted with everything else around. No, how you contrasted with everything he had ever seen in his life. Changretta's features, chiseled and unyielding, remained an inscrutable mask, but beneath the surface, a calculated mind sought to see right through you. His posture exuded a quiet confidence despite your unsettling aura and ghostly appearance, a testament to the years of navigating the treacherous underworld of crimes.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked, going on with his observation of every tiny detail of your face. To be honest, Luca didn't imagine you like this. All he had been told about you was that you were the French harlot Arthur Shelby had married, some kind of bratty young girl who came from nowhere. At first, he was convinced that you would be nothing but boring at worst, or entertaining in your way of begging for your husband's life at best but you were none of these. Now that he was sitting next to you at the bar, discussing as if he hadn't murdered one of the most important people in your life, he found himself enthralled by the pure snow-white color of your long hair. More than your unusual hair color, what had surprised him the most was how your coldness cut with the softness of your physical traits. You felt like a walking paradox to him, your appearance conveying a message at the antithesis of what you truly were.

"Because it's all in my interest to see him dead and cold." You replied with a little shrug. Admittedly, you didn't imagine him like this. Quite the contrary, your mind had created the picture of a rat-faced gangster marked with ugly scars and vicious black eyes by dint of hearing how Arthur talked about him. Yet, here you were, facing a rather attractive gentleman with such atypical traits and a charismatic aura that your eternal coldness was slightly shaken. Men of these kinds were always the most dangerous, you thought with full knowledge of the facts. Luca Changretta was something: as slim as Arthur yet standing taller, his face was adorned with a seductive charm and an aquiline nose which rendered his features even more unique.

"Principessa" He started, sneering. Luca pushed the match to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue one last time before his sly fingers grabbed it to put it in the nearest ashtray. Then, his hand reached for the whisky glass the waiter had just put in front of him, "Allow me to doubt that. You are a Shelby, and I've heard your clan is tightly knitted together. Don't think of me fool enough to believe that a Shelby would want to kill another one." Luca concluded his accusation with a little head tilt as he swallowed his whisky in one go. A small grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the pleasant burn the alcohol left in his trail.

"The only reason I bear the name Shelby is for my husband, not for anyone else. If you aren't aware of it may I suggest that your informants only did half of the job otherwise you should have known that Thomas had been nothing but a bane to my existence from the first day we met."

"A bane? That's not a trivial world to use when talking about your brother-in-law." Changretta's fingers, adorned with sleek rings, tapped against the wooden counter as a clear manifestation of his suspicions.

"Well, he had tried to strangle me, then blamed me for his son's abduction, and also for his brother's death and now he is actively seeking to ruin my marriage. I think "bane" is an appropriate way to call him. Now," You said with a little wave of the hand, "if my offer doesn't stir your interest I'd rather leave." When you shifted your body to stand up, Luca's immense hand gently rested on yours to invite you to sit back. The striking temperature difference between his warm flesh and the iciness of your skin gave him sudden goosebumps. Once you did sit back, his unimpressed mask cracked and moved on to an amused and fascinated smile that danced on his thin lips. It was a heavily murderous speech for such a little thing. If it wasn't for the frost you were made of, you would have made him think of his own more fire-coded wife.

"Let me tell you something. My mother was a very patient woman you know?" He said out of the blue with a softer voice, "I've never heard her raise her voice during all my childhood except once. That was one of the many reasons she was a teacher every kid loved. When she did yell at me I was a kid and I just saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. Straight out of a fairy tale with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow and little beady eyes as red as precious rubies. Usually, wild animals are skippish but that little fella didn't move away when I approached it. It seemed so quiet and docile that I decided to pet it. And do you know what the ferret did?" Luca leaned over you at his question, his face closer to yours and his smirk stretching in an evil grin, "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite. I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh up to this day. A bite scar among the gunshots and stab wounds." He paused for a while, his green eyes momentarily dropping to your swollen lips and lingering on the white pearly fangs he could glimpse at when you "tsk" at him. The air suddenly crackled with a palpable tension that thickened with every second flying by. Each of his silences loudly echoed the rising intensity of the moment one of you would snap at the other. But it never happened, and the only thing Luca did was grin even more, his squinted eyes meeting yours again. "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

His words, coated with honey but cutting like razor blades, made the corner of your plum lips subtlety curl in a dangerous but brief smirk too at the realization that all the rumors surrounding the Italian were true: he was devilishly clever. Maybe that was why you didn't manage to completely hate him despite his horrible actions. While your dainty body, your small size, and the far-too-seraphic complexions of your face often misled people about the brutality that was coursing through your cursed veins and the sickening void of your coal-black pupils, Luca didn't fall for any of them. Not even the glittery makeup and your big round eyes could make him ignore the creepy murmurs of the underlying Devil living in you. After a brief and uncomfortable silence that seemed to last one awful eternity, you finally parted your lips.

"Let me tell you something too," Your voice was a gentle melody, "Arthur and John should have killed your mother." Each word flowed like a soft breeze, carrying a subtle allure that only enhanced the cruelty of their meaning. Your lack of consideration for potentially hurting his feelings had taken him aback. " But they decided to spare her despite Little King Shelby's ruthless order. They genuinely wanted to do it out of sheer compassion" You pursed your lips and backed up from Luca, rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' idiots, they should have killed her when they had the chance." The mobster quickly moistened his lips, the faint surprised expression on his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"His ruthlessness was right." He agreed, "They should have." Luca concluded, yet elaborating an arrangement with you didn’t seem to be his top priority suddenly. The mobster already knew he would grant you your wishes, the idea of having direct access to Tommy was too alluring to resist after all. What he wanted at his precise moment was… Different.   "You know, I don't fear being bitten anymore — the danger is a deliciously wicked part of the job I learned to accept and love. Considering this, Mrs, Shelby" He let his sentence hanged as he offered you the palm of his hand, long and bony fingers waiting for yours. "May I ask for a dance?" His eyes sparkled with an amusement that hinted at a hidden game, a dance of power between you and him. The seductive charm with which he invited you blurred the lines between rivalry and fascination.

"Do we have a deal?" You inquired with one brow raised, just to make sure he had taken notes of your terms.

"A deal for a dance." He slightly wiggled the fingers of his inviting hand. "Plus, you're already dancing with me in your own way."

A discreet and longer inhale escaped from your nostrils as you weighed the pros and cons but still you slipped your hand into his, which enveloped your skin with a tender strength. A little dance couldn't hurt anyone, you thought. Without further ado, Luca led the way to the dance floor as you both snaked in and out through the crowd until you reached a more spacious corner. It was the mafioso who initiated the dance. First, his grip strengthened around you: not to the extent of hurting you of course but definitely enough to make you understand that you were trapped. Then, his arm wrapped around your waist firmly like a snake. "Closer," He instructed and you obliged, taking a step toward him and placing your free upon his shoulder. After he set the rhythm, you started to move to the slow melody the orchestra was playing across the room. As the haunting music enveloped you, you moved in synchronized steps, your bodies entwined in a waltz that displayed outside tenderness while your eyes held a sharp glint of adversaries locked in an unspoken battle.

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

With each twirl and turn, the odd and gripping tension you shared thickened, just like an intricate tango of conflicting emotions. As soft as the dance had started, it was gradually turning into a visceral yet elegant battlefield where intimidation and seduction engaged in a delicate but fierce fight.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

Your heart leaped in your tight ribcage at a sudden dip, your hair hanging down like a silver cascade, and your gaze set on the golden sculpted ceiling that quickly flashed in front of your eyes before disappearing, replaced by Luca's intense green eyes again.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

"Don't be shy Amore," He cooed with a charming wink before pulling you even closer to him until your body collided with his. You stopped breathing for a short moment, shutting your eyes when you realized that your face was almost nuzzled in the crook of his neck. In that fleeting moment, you relinquished a fraction of your resistance, swept away by the remote yet familiar feeling of letting someone guide you without any need to think— or maybe that was the sweet fragrance of his cologne which pleasantly tingled your nostrils that woke up memories anchored deep within your mind. From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

And you hated how pleasant it felt. You viscerally hated it.

Both the song's tempo and Luca's steps fastened as he noticed the subtle change in your facial expression, slowly turning your graceful dance into a dizzying and confusing round. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, daring it to reveal its vulnerability. The room seemed to spin around you and yet, you clenched your jaw and forced yourself to maintain an unmoved facade. No. You wouldn't sink into melancholia. Gathering all your willpower, you chased away the panic that crept within you and felt a rush of anger toward Luca for daring to reopen an old wound you tried to heal every day of your life since you left France. And with anger came the end of your self-control.

To hell with Tommy's plan, you could put an end to this exhausting vendetta yourself by killing the infamous Luca Changretta right here, right now.

Guided by your murderous nature, you started to focus on his heartbeat as soon as you regained control of the dance, forcing him to slow down the pace. In a thorough study of his pulse, you could clearly hear the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat resounding in his chest, and even counted how many times it beat in one minute. And the more you listened to it, the more music faded away in the background.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Killing him would be a piece of cake considering the horrific magic that was coursing through your veins, the magic of blood and flesh. All you would have to do was accelerate his pulse until it became too much for his body to bear. In a minute, Luca would drop to the ground, limp and dead. No blood, no fight, just the sudden and inevitable consequences of a heart attack. Quite different from the gruesome and slow death you had wished to inflict upon Tommy the day he had crossed the line.

"You're a great dancer, Miss Shelby." The mobster stated, having no choice but to follow your slower pace. Now you were the one leading the dance, "Did your husband teach you? I must admit that I have all the trouble of the world imagining Arthur Shelby being good at waltzing." He had already trouble imagining how the most rabid of these Gypsy bastards could have pulled you, to be honest. His tastes regarding women might not encompass you but, God, he thought that your place wasn't beside a man like Arthur Shelby since you could easily be a trophy wife for a classy and far more powerful criminal. Or some blue blood, but these were the same except the latter legally robbed people.

"Arthur is far better at dancing than what he seems but it wasn't him who taught me." Your reply was sharper than intended.

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

"So you've been married before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement for the mafioso had easily decypher your micro-expressions despite your best efforts to hide them.

"Engaged. We didn't make it to the actual wedding."

Kill him. Kill him now.

The fingers that were resting on his shoulder dug deeper into his jacket as you channeled the gift your mother had passed you the day of your birth. It could have gone unnoticed if you hadn't paid attention but Luca's eyebrows slightly frowned, not understanding why his heart had started racing like that all of sudden.

"That's a shame. And how does one lose a woman like you? If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee." Luca grinned, his charming voice steady but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed the building pain he was feeling in his chest. Men were all the same: too much ego to show that they were in distress.

"Well, that's how he lost a woman like me." No matter the exact nature of the impact your words had on him it did trigger something within his soul. On top of a literal ache in his heart, his wedding ring became suddenly heavier. In the dance's rhythmic embrace, your witchcraft went on with poisoning Luca's very core. Yet, as the enchantment unfolded, an unforeseen consequence took hold. The more you delved into your mystical powers, the more the mobster's pain echoed within your own body in an unexpected symbiosis. Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly.

The baby.

You backed up from Luca with a movement so quick it looked like you had touched hot-red metal, hence putting an abrupt end to the dance. A discreet growl fell from the man's lips for when the physical contact broke his heart resumed to a normal pace and the pain mysteriously disappeared. As well as yours.

"Enough fun for tonight." You said with hast, and Luca hadn't the quick thinking to keep you from doing so — the odd and unpredictable behavior of his heart was too concerning for him to carry on with this odd meeting.

"Hm. Yeah, don't forget about our deal." He replied, smoothing the fold of his tailored suit before slowly and discreetly pressing the left side of his chest with the palm of his hand.

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me." You spat one last taunt with the most polite smile you could make before turning your heels and leaving this damn room.

What the hell had just happened?

According to Tommy, everything went perfectly. Satisfied with the outcome of your mission — and genuinely surprised you hadn't fucked up everything by your rebellious attitude or just for the sheer satisfaction of getting under his skin —, the lead pack dog of the Peaky Blinders went on with the Vendetta. Actually, the one who fucked up the whole plan hadn't been you, but rather Tommy himself following the failure of his surprise attack against Luca. He might have killed a few Italians in the process, but his initial target was still alive and in very good health conditions. A flash of anger and frustration coursed through your body when he told the family about it: here you were back to the start, with Luca not willing to give you a second chance and being more enraged than he already was when he came to England. None of it would have happened if you had listened to your instincts and killed him yourself. Served you right for trusting Tommy's plan for once. And for being reluctant to use the monstrous magic nature gave you. But there had also been... Something else. That weird and unplanned pain in your belly when you had used your magic. With all of this, the cherry on the top was probably Tommy's decision to carry on with today's boxing fight despite it being an obviously awful idea but of course, no one listened to you. Why would they? Tommy always knew better. Tommy always won. Tommy this. Tommy that.

You sighed loudly as you walked through the empty corridor, the cacophony of the crowd turning into a hushed noise when you reached the huge squared mirror that was hanging from the wall. There were so many people gathered in the building that accessing the bathroom would have taken both your precious time and your thin tolerance to social events. That was why you decided to look for a mirror or a window further away to add a few late touches to your makeup as well as to rearrange your hair. You had just finished putting another layer of mascara on your Bambi lashes and grabbed your lip gloss when a gravelly and familiar voice resounded in the hallway.

“I went looking for you.” The voice made you instantly relax, its baritone lilt holding the unique power of blowing your troubles away, both the past and the present ones. With one small yet graceful spin, you turned around to meet Arthur’s slim silhouette that was standing in the doorway. His sharp face, usually displaying a strict look, soon turned soft at the sight of you about to apply gloss on your tantalizing lips, “I thought you’d be in here.”

"And you thought right." You replied with an enamored smile. Arthur was quite delighted by the boxing fight, so there was no need to impede his joy with your concerns. Moreover, he was surely the only thing that kept you anchored during this confusing and stressful period.

The gangster approached you with slow steps and his steel blue eyes shone brighter the more he closed the distance between you and him. “I knew it, always seeking quiet places before a party to doll you up and take a deep breath...” He concluded, visibly proud to display his infinite knowledge about his beloved wife, which made you melt. Then, he stopped right in front of you, "Got a lil' something for me angel." Arthur didn't leave you the time to wonder what it was all about for one of his large hands slipped from behind his back and pulled a white Azalea from it, “Look what I’ve found. Almost as beautiful as you, eh?”  The way his face enlightened with the happiest and most genuine smile ever was something you never got bored of. Quite the contrary, it breathed life back into you each time. The ice of your eyes melted at such an endearing gift, turning your frozen traits into a child-like expression with your plump lips forming a silent ‘o’.

“For me? Really? Arthur, you shouldn't have!” You said with an excited but still quieter voice than his booming one. You couldn't believe he found the time to look for you in the middle of tonight's chaos.

"I wanted you to keep a little something with you in case you start panicking eh." He purred, low and gruff voice making his chest rumble. "Are you sure ya don't want me to stay with you?" You preyed the flower from his rough fingers delicately, actively trying not to break its fragile petals, and slipped it in your long silvery mane under your Arthur's tender gaze — he couldn’t help but smirk, enthralled by your beauty just like the first time he had met you, three years ago.

"We already talked about it. Go have fun alright? I'll stay with the women. Moreover, I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his." You lift yourself on your tip toes to press a kiss on Arthur's jaw. His eyes half-closed at the silky sensation of your lips against his face.

"A very clever move that is. D'ya like the flower? The florist helped me, bet she took pity on me 'cos I looked very lost but she just made me even more confused with all the info she was dumping ay."

A sincere chuckle escaped from your throat at the thought of the lanky and rude gangster standing in the middle of a flower shop with a confused look on his face. Yup, it definitely sounded like something Arthur would do. “So how did you choose the Azalea?” You pondered with innocent curiosity.

“Well, I don't know jackshit about that flower language stuff. I only know roses and you hate ‘em.” He admitted with a smile, cupping your face with his two hands to lay a peck on your nose.  As trivial as this detail was he still remembered it and the mix of attention paired with the significance behind your loathing for roses made you swell with love for him. It came even more surprising considering that you only told him about your dislike for roses once during one of the nightly walks you took around the church days after your first encounter.  "So I just picked the one that made me think about ya the most, love." He admitted, his hands leaving your face to grip you by the hips bluntly as he peppered you with kisses. Another chuckle fell from your mouth at the tickle of his mustache against your skin.

"No, no, you'll ruin my makeup!" You playfully exclaimed. Trying to flee from his mouth, you tilted your head to the side and gave his stubbled cheek a gentle bite.

“Hey! I bring ye a flower and you thank me with a bite? Ye feral little thing!”

You gave him a second one without waiting for him to finish his sentence, "You're the one to blame. You’re so cute I just want to nibble you.” You replied, completely obliterating the remote noise as well as all the concerns you have been mulling over these past few days. Instead of anxiety, you were now possessed by joy and cuteness aggression, “I swear you look stupidly handsome.” You added with a pout, the target of your small bites shifting from his cheek to his sharp jaw. Arthur hummed, his lips sewn shut in a peaceful smile — he didn't even bother to flee from your teeth, "Alright, go find Tommy before I tear your suit apart."

"Wouldn't mind that, little one." His voice became raspier with anticipation. It seemed like your suggestion had already planted the seed of desire in his mind, for he already started pawing at your body. Nevertheless, your hands caught his wrists to keep him from doing so.

"No, no, no. My makeup is perfect and my dress too expensive for you to ruin it now." You reminded him with a soft laugh.

"Fuck me." The gangster complained but still obliged, keeping his hands to himself. However, the light mood was soon eroded by the question he didn't dare to ask you earlier. Caught in the weight of his demand, his smile dropped a little, "Eeer... Before I leave" He paused, "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

"Hm?"

Arthur let out a long sigh and looked for something inside the pocket of his trousers all the while rambling, "That's a rare occasion tonight. I mean, a good boxing fight with the new Gold lad I coach and an upcoming party that might last all night long y'know. A really great program that is. Exhausting too." His fingers nervously fidgeted with something inside his pocket. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by tense shoulders and furrowed brows. Despite his efforts to appear composed, the strain was palpable, lingering in the air as he gathered all his courage. It was after a long hesitation that he finally took a tiny blue vial out and the simple view of it turned your joyful face into deadly ice again.

"Are you serious?" Your voice, a freezing breeze, cut through the air with a stern cadence, "Are you fucking serious, Arthur William Shelby Jr?" Your grip around the small lip gloss you were holding strengthened so much that the skin of your knuckles whitened.

"Hey, that's okay love." Arthur leaned in close. With gentle eyes that mirrored his sincerity, he spoke softly, trying to convey reassurance in each word as your anger simmered. "I didn't take any of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah. Told ya I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice." The gangster lowered his head just like a terrorizing but gentle mutt would do to show his submission, "I wanted to ask if ya allowed me to take some tonight? Ya told me I could if it remained occasional. Wasn't going to take it in your back, I swear." Wrapping yourself in threatening silence, you stood like a tempest in the quiet aftermath, your posture rigid with the echoes of anger. The storm in your eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a contemplative gaze that softened the hard expression of your seraphic face. As the storm clouds of your fury dispersed, a calm determination settled upon you instead. Arthur bit his lips, mustache twitching as he did so, for time seemed suspended as you collected your thoughts and tried to regain control over your fury. You breathed deep and slow while Arthur held his, awaiting your reply and wondering if your reaction would be born from the storm or from the calm eye at its center.

"Give." You said, your melodious and quiet voice breaking the silence, then you snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly looking to your left and then to your right to make sure no one could interrupt you, you first opened the lipgloss and proceeded to pour the white powder inside your makeup vial. Once this was done, you handed back the empty blue bottle to Arthur and mixed the cocaine with your lipgloss with the help of the small brush, "I have to admit that you're making a great deal of effort. Thank you for asking, I really... Appreciate it." The gangster stood silent and dumbstruck, wondering what the hell you could be doing. "And I did say you could take some snow occasionally." You brought the brush to your lips and carefully applied a great amount of the glistening liquid on your flesh. "So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God." You smooched your lips together and then smiled, a wicked and tantalizing smirk that sent a sudden wave of fever through his whole being. Arthur swallowed, his gaze fixed upon the enticing curve of your lips. In the stillness of the moment, desire stirred within him, a smoldering ember ignited by the mere sight of you mixed with the sinful words you just spoke. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the subtle movements of your mouth, each gesture a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

"I already do." He breathed with a low growl, his fervid passion turning his lean body into a shaky mess. With each passing second, the intensity of his longing grew, consuming him in a fiery embrace. His heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being yearned to bridge the distance between you, to taste the sweet and spice that lingered on your lips. With no more persuading needed, Arthur grabbed your face rough and let his mouth collide with yours, the kiss as brutal as a car crash. His scorching and rapid breath fanned over your skin as he licked your lips from the right corner to the left, the caress of his warm tongue making you moan against his wet flesh. Caught in the fire of desire — and definitely aroused by his carelessness— your trembling hands found rest upon his back, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jacket. An immediate wave of euphoria unfurled in his brain when the cocaine saturated his synapses. As needful moans raised in the corridor, Arthur couldn't tell if that was the drug or you that kickstarted his heart and dilated his pupils, but in any case, he was experiencing the most exquisite high he had ever had.

"Fuck." Arthur grunted with pleasure and gave several other licks until none of your gloss remained, then his tongue forced its way between your lips, not minding whether you had time to catch your breath or not because you were the real drug in the end. His deepest and most maddening addiction. "A fookin" Goddess you are hm."

"Arthur, Tommy's looking for—" Johnny Dog didn't finish his sentence, eyes wide open. " I just interrupted something right?" He finally blurted out, the initial shock of walking into such a steamy scene turning into the most annoying smile ever.

"Yeah, yeah Tommy. Alright." He repeated as he tried to break from the haziness. Arthur grunted, his lips still a few inches away from yours and your erratic breath melting together. Giving him one last peck —far more delicate than what you were doing one minute ago— you mouthed a silent "go" and forced yourself to resist the attraction of the invisible magnet that was inevitably pulling you towards the lanky criminal. "Alright!" Arthur roared when he turned back to you, clasping his hands together and walking to Johnny Dog with a carnivorous grin and dilated pupils. The Lee man slapped the eldest Shelby brother's back and, right before he go, shot you a little wink.

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

"Gonna wait a bit longer before getting your dick wet, boy."

"Shut the fuck up you fookin' cunt ay and let's watch the fight. I'm feeling bloodthirsty eh."

Three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and disgusting scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

"Arthur!"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses drowned in a deafening symphony of tinnitus, a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him, "Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream. A haunting and otherworldly scream which pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The tall Italian man twitching on the ground, choking in his own blood, should have been proud of his successful attack on the eldest Shelby brother. And yet, all he could do was stare at you horrified, his eyes reflecting the terror of his soul.

"D— Diàvulu..." He mouthed, as death came like the most wonderful relief, bringing his sinner soul far away from you, for even in Hell he'd feel safer.

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x oc #Paul Anderson #Heaven Shelby #Peaky blinders oc #John Shelby #Polly Gray #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta x Reader #Arthur SHelby imagine

[horeformilfs]

MASTERLIST

Requests: Open

Request Guidelines

RESIDENT EVIL: VILLAGE

Mother Miranda

Pray

Little Crow

Dove

Blood and Broken Art

Alcina Dimitrescu

Scars

Grieving

An Eye for an Eye Makes the Whole World Blind

Sacrifices in the Name of Love

Blood Bag

Miracina

Rescued From the Nightmare

Bela Dimitrescu

Mistakes

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Shattered Past

Daniela Dimitrescu

Secrets

Dimitrescu Sisters

Soulmates (In Progress)

Dimitrescu Family

Searching for Home

I'll Protect You...Because I Love You

Donna Beneviento

Flowers

Mine

Lullaby

AMERICAN HORROR STORY:

Cordelia Goode

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Billie Dean Howard

Lana Winters

Wilhelmina Venable

Multi Character

Saviors

GLASS:

Dr. Ellie Staple

RATCHED:

Mildred Ratched

WINX CLUB:

Icy

I Told the Moon about You

Darcy

Stormy

The Trix

Its Okay to Feel

SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL:

Lady Lesso

Little Raven

Stubborn Little Princess

Trials of the Blue Forest

Crush?

Love and Comfort

Constellations of Love

Silent Resonance

Clarissa Dovey

Dovesso

HARRY POTTER:

Narcissa Malfoy/Black

Christmas Blues

Bellatrix Lestrange/Black

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE:

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

WandaNat

Save me

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Polly Gray

MOTHERFATHERSON:

Kathryn Villiers

WEDNESDAY:

Larissa Weems

Morticia Addams

ACTRESSES:

Helen McCrory

Starving

Drowning

Helena Bonham Carter

I Don't Know How to Be Okay

Comfort

Elizabeth Olsen

Grieving

Cate Blanchett

Breath

Sarah Paulson

Tired

A Mother's Love

Charlize Theron

Scarlett Johansson

Keeping You Safe

Emily Blunt

Gwendoline Christie

Kathryn Hahn

Jessica Chastain

Catherine Zeta-Jones

Avoidance

#mother miranda imagine #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda #resident evil mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu imagine #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #resident evil alcina #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu imagine #bela dimitrescu x y/n #cassandra dimitrescu x y/n #cassandra dimitrescu imagine #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x y/n #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu imagine #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil daniela #donna beneviento x y/n #donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento imagine #donna beneviento x reader #resident evil donna

[littlefandomfairy]

💜 cillian murphy fic recs (1) 💜

thomas shelby | robert fischer | jonathan crane | patricia 'kitten' braden

🩷 (fluff) 🍆 (smut) 👿 (angst) 🩹 (hurt/comfort)

last updated: 04/07/24 | fic recs (2)

🚬 Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

at the end of the day by @lis-likes-fics 🍆👿

a man with a reputation by @kadwrites (individual warnings)

girl dad (series) by @runnning-outof-time (individual warnings)

fourth times the charm by @moral-terpitude 🩷🍆

is it lightning that has me falling in love? (series) by @queenmaddsauthor (individual warnings)

call me tommy by @acewritesfics 🩷

show me how you need me by @cillianhead 🍆

just another nightmare by @your-nanas-house 🩷🍆

me time by @garrison-girl-08 🩷

nobody but her by @babybluebex 🩷🩹

dada by @babybluebex 🩷

body worship by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

frozen fear by @theonewiththefanfics 🩷🍆👿🩹

flipped (series) by @cillspropertea (individual warnings)

afternoon shelby chaos (series) by @teenwolf-theoriginals (individual warnings)

dad!tommy

mr. giraffe

the boys

and her name is...

evening shelby chaos

happy birthday, my love

ava and rob

arranged by @shewrites444 🍆👿

mrs. shelby's birthday by @garrison-girl-08 (individual warnings)

jealous thomas by @padfootdaredmetoo 🩷

never tired of you @runnning-outof-time 🩷

bedtime stories by @runnning-outof-time 🩷

come to bed by @runnning-outof-time 🩷

request by @padfootdaredmetoo 🩷👿🩹

lurking in the shadows by @pherelesytsia 🩷

old faces (series) by @garrison-girl-08

😴 Robert Fischer (Inception)

swollen boobs by @darlingsfandom 🍆

telling him you're pregnant by @babybluebex

morning sex by @mypoisonedvine 🩷🍆

hurt/comfort trope by @babybluebex 🩷🩹

are you asking me out? by @willaferrreyra 🩷

layover by @kiss-me-cill-me 🩷🍆

a deal in matrimony (series) by @haveyoureadthisfanfic (individual warnings)

the muse by @viesanterieures 🩷

💉 Jonathan Crane (Batman Begins)

nsfw alphabet by @floralcyanide 🩷🍆

domesticity by @differentclasss 🩷🍆

age gap by @madlittlecriminal 🩷🍆

closer by @floralcyanide 🩷🍆

headcanons by @floralcyanide 🩷🍆

crystal blue by @a-nemoiia 🩷

v.planifolia by @kiss-me-cill-me 🩷🍆

glowing by @acapelladitty 🩷

those little things by @mothhball 🩷

👠 Patricia 'Kitten' Braden (Breakfast On Pluto)

cheri cheri lady (series) by @pictureinme 🩷🍆

strap-ons by @pictureinme 🩷🍆

reminiscence by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

dolled up by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

sweet dreams by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

show girls by @mypoisonedvine 🩷🍆

lemon & lavender by @mypoisonedvine 🩷🍆🩹

blush by @mysaintkitten 🩷🍆

little one by @pictureinme 🩷🍆

#tommy shelby #jonathan crane #robert fischer #kitten braden #fic rec #fic recommendation #fic recs #fic recommendations #thomas shelby

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: (1920) You live a pretty normal life. Living with you're two younger sisters, having moved back to your hometown from when you were younger. This is where you meet the infamous Thomas Shelby who gives you an offer you cant refuse

WORD COUNT: 3364

Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: smoking, implied violence, slight sexism, swearing, drinking

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

I have not watched Peaky Blinders so this may not be accurate to the actual TV show. It will also not follow the timeline of the show. But I hope you enjoy.

The three brothers sit around the table inside the little room. The one in their pub. The soft chattering of people outside as they play a game of poker. "Play the next hand will you" Tommy says as his two brothers look at him in shock.

"Can you just run past us what you just said again? I think my hearing must be going as I swear you just said you wanted to get married" his younger brother says

"You heard me correctly"

"So who's the lucky lady" the older says

"I've not found her yet" they both laugh "I know it sounds like a ridiculous fantasy. I reckon if we got a girl that has no prior relations to us or the type of stuff that we do then people would be more likely to trust us. Therefore wanting us to be in business more. It will get rid of some of the negativity we have surrounding our name"

"I'm sure we could easily find one off the streets for you" the younger teases as he lets out a low laugh

"I want someone who doesn't get scared easily. Don't want her to get spooked and run off during the honeymoon"

"Well we wish you luck on that journey" The older says as they finish up their game. Calling it a night they head out. Putting on their hats and coats as they start walking. Tommy lighting a cigarette as the three of them walk. His two brothers walking on slightly ahead as he goes to throw the last bit of his smoke down. It had gotten late by now that they didn't expect to bump into someone. Quite literally.

You run down the alleyway. Turning to face behind you to see if he was following. You turn back just as you bump into someone. He grabs your elbow as to stop you from falling straight onto your ass "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" you stutter out. Eyes going to the alleyway. The strangers eyes fall to your neck. The dark bruising around it. He looks down the alleyway. His hand falling from your elbow as he meets your gaze again.

"Tommy?" you hear someone calling as you dart your eyes between the three figures

"I- I need to go" a mild panic in your voice as you start to walk away. Your eyes constantly go back to the alleyway. You turn away from him. Bumping into the two other men as you walk past. "I'm sorry. I need to go" they move out your way as you run past them.

-

Some people would call you a thief. You prefer the term con woman. And a good one you are. Allowing you to be able to steal jewels and money without people noticing. This allowed you to keep up your income. That's what had caused the bruising around your neck though. You got caught by someone who didn't take your petty theft lightly.

You run to your house. Opening the door you pretty much slam it behind you. Your little sister jumps out of bed.

"Flo!" she calls out. Hugging you. You hug her back. Seeing your other younger sister opening here eyes at you.

"We were wondering when you'd be back"

"I'm here now" you kiss your sister on the top of her head. You grab into your coat pocket. Pulling out a necklace and bracelet. Followed by a pair of earrings. Elizabeth grabs it from you as she sits up on the bed.

"Oh my god!" she looks at it, holding them up to her ears "what do we think?"

"Ooh very fancy. Look like a proper little lady" she grins at you causing you to chuckle. She hands them back to you as you put them back in your coat. "I plan on selling them tomorrow. Then we can get that house we were looking at. Until then though we should be getting to bed. Come on" she nods. Jumping back into bed. You pull the covers up over the both of them. Stroking the hair out of their eyes as you grab a blanket. Going over and sleeping on the sofa on the adjacent wall.

You'd managed to sell the items the next day. Getting a good amount of money in exchange for the house. That and your savings from the previous months. You find the current seller of the house you were wanting. Him smoking outside the building, chatting to someone else. You walk over to him "I'd like to buy this house" he looks at you, eyeing you up and down

"You can't afford it" you reach into your pocket handing him a wad of cash. He looks at the money. Then at you

"Why don't you get your husband to come along. I'll talk to him. Alright sweetheart?" you take out some more money.

"I'm buying this house today" he looks back at the money in your hand.

"Ok then love" he goes to take the money from your hand but you move it away. Holding out your other hand

"The keys" he chuckles. Going into his pocket he takes out some keys. Handing them to you as you take them. Then handing him the money.

"Thank you gentlemen. Now excuse me" you go and open the front door. Going inside your new house.

A few days had passed. You'd fully moved into your home. Not that you had much to move from your small box house. Your sisters loved the new place. The three of you had been so used to sharing the same bedroom for years that it felt strange to have your own personal spaces. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the privacy.

You walk down the street. Arms crossed over your torso as the winter air chills you. You feel a couple of spots of rain. Quickening your pace in hopes to get home before it starts hacking it down. But you're to late. You quickly run over to the nearest building you can as to keep dry from the poor weather. Opening the door as you go inside.

Dripping onto the nice floor as you look around the pub. Empty. You walk over to the bar. Taking off your coat and placing it next to you on the stall. Listening to the rain as you wait for it to calm down. You don't pay much mind to your surroundings. Jumping as you hear a voice.

"I think you're in the wrong place" you turn to look as you jump up from your seat. Two piercing blue eyes watching you from one of the booths. His body slumped against the back of the chair.

"Sorry Mr Shelby. I just- its pissing it down out there and the door was open so I-" he raises his hand slightly. Causing you to stop. He tilts his head at you. Eyes scanning over your body before he speaks, motioning at the seat opposite him.

"Sit" you look at the front door. Hearing the wind picking up more. Your body screaming at you to run. Get out of this place. But going against your better judgement you stand up from your stall. Your body tense as you slide into the booth opposite him. He pours a glass, pushing it towards you.

"I'm ok thank you"

"I insist" you look at his eyes. Then at the drink. Picking it up as you take a sip. Placing the beverage down onto the table and passing it back to him. "You're that girl from a few weeks ago"

"I don't know what kind of night you had a few weeks ago but I can promise you that we've never met before" he chuckles at your statement. Your boldness intriguing him.

"You ran into me. You had bruises around your neck" his eyes go to your throat. You shuffle slightly under his gaze.

"Even if it was me then my business is my own" you say confidently. Eyes meeting his as he nods

"I can drink to that" he picks up the glass. Taking a sip of it before placing it back down in the center of the table.

"Why are you drinking here alone?"

"Like you said. My business is my own" you nod, half smiling as you lean forward and grab the glass from the middle again. Drinking the remainder of the liquid. Placing the cup down. He takes it, pouring some more. Sipping it before placing it back to the middle of the two of you

"I should be getting back" as if on cue you hear the rain start to pick up more. "Or maybe not" you say, a slight annoyance in your voice

"Looks like you're going to be here for a while" he says. Motioning at the bar "Grab another glass" You look at him. Then look at the drink he's already poured. You stand up, going behind the counter and grabbing one. You head back over to him, sitting down as you place the cup down. He takes it from you. Pouring you a glass and handing it to you. That's when you notice the blood on his knuckles. Your breath hitches slightly.

He's fully aware of what you've seen. There's no way he can't know that you've seen his hands. But he remains unfazed. Instead he calmly drinks his drink. Eyes on you as he places the cup onto the table. Watching you. "Do you have a pack of cards on you?" you say. More to try and help your nerves then to make small talk. Avoiding his cold gaze as best as you can as you. He shakes his head as you let out a soft 'oh'.

"What's your name?" He asks as he reaches into his pocket. Taking out some cigarettes. He offers you one. The pack facing you. You reach over, grabbing one out

"Florence. My friends call me Flo though" you say, placing the stick into your mouth as he takes one for himself. Grabbing out a light he lights his one.

"What can I call you then?" Before reaching over with the lit match. You lean over the table as he lights the end for you. Putting the match out as you sit back down onto your seat properly. Taking the smoke from your mouth as you look at him. Head titling slightly

"Flo" you say, causing him to half smile. He takes the item from his mouth, replacing it with his drink before speaking again

"You new around here Flo?"

"I grew up here but moved to London when I was about 12. Moved back a few months ago"

"Is it anything like how you remembered?" you laugh slightly

"I have a lot of fond memories of this place from when I was a kid. But now... lets just say that things are a bit different now that I'm older" he nods. You have some more of your drink. You go to say something else just as the door opens. You recognize him as one of the Shelby boys. John you believe his name to be.

"Tommy we need you back home" he says, his eyes falling onto you as you turn to face him. "Who's the girl?"

"No one" he says "what do you need help with?"

"Family matter". You stand up

"That is my cue to leave" you say. Going over to the bar again and grabbing your coat "thank you for the drinks Mr Shelby" you say, smiling softly at him as he smiles back. Nodding towards you as you head outside. Going past the younger brother half cautiously as you walk back home. You must've been in the pub longer then you remember as the rain has practically stopped by now. Letting you have a relatively dry walk back.

It had been a week since you moved in. Your sisters were at school so you decided to have a day out. Going out the front door. Turning around to lock it. Just as you see your neighbor coming out of the house next to you. You look and see John coming out. You look away quickly. Locking he front door as he turns to face you

"You're the lass from the pub" You face him and smile slightly

"I don't know what you mean" he nods slightly. Looking at your house as you walk into the street more. "Have a nice day Mr Shelby" you smile as you walk off. Trying to get rid of any business you may have with the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders.

You go on a bit of a shopping spree during your day out. Not buying anything to ornate but possibly spending more money then you should have. Buying fresh fruit and veg, some bread and other necessities. You meet up with one of your friends and have a chat with her.

You head back to your house. Unlocking the front door and heading inside. You place the food down onto the kitchen side, starting to put the stuff away. A few minutes go past before there's a knock at the door. You look, unsure of who it could be. Elizabeth and Mary would just walk in knowing you leave it unlocked for them. You go to the door. Opening it. John and Tommy standing by it. Johnny leaning against the door frame. Before you have time to speak (or close the door on them) the youngest brother speaks. A smile on his face that you can't read.

"Mind if we come in?" your eyes dart between the two men

"Sure" you manage to say. Moving out the way and motioning for them to come in. Body tense as they both head inside. You go into the living room "Do you want anything to drink?" Trying to keep your cool as John sits down. Tommy leans against the wall as he watches you.

"No. You see we've come to have a little chat" the younger says

"About?"

"Are you spying on us?" the older says

"Why would you think that?"

"You bump into us late at night, then you come into the pub. Now you're living next door" the younger says, leaning back onto your sofa as they both watch you. His eyes darting as he expresses his words with his hands.

"Its a small town Mr Shelby. Purely coincidence" he stands up. Turning to face you as he takes his cap off. Your eyes dart to the object before going back up to his face "I am aware of who you are. What you are apart of. But I am not a spy. So there will be no need for you to use that" you motion at his hat. Your eyes fixed onto his as you feel yourself shaking slightly from fear. Trying to regain your composure.

"We asked around about you. No one seems to know who you are. An introverted young woman. No husband or family. Only recently moved in"

"I am orphaned. My mother died when I was young. Father died during the war. I lived in London for a while but made some enemies recently so moved back here where I grew up. If that is all the questions you have then I would like you boys to leave my house" John places his hat down onto the side table. Sitting back down on the sofa as he looks at you. Smiling

"I think I'll take that drink now"

You clench your fists slightly but nod. Going into the kitchen you make them both a drink. Resting your hands against the counter top as you curse at yourself slightly. How did you end up here? You really did not want to make the Peaky Blinders you enemy.

You walk back in. Placing two cups down. You stay standing. Folding your arms over your body in an effort to hide your hands shaking. You hear the front door open. Your sisters walking in. "Flo you'll never guess what happened today at... school..." Elizabeth says the last word quietly as she walks into the living room. Mary coming in and grabbing her sisters hand as they look at the two men, then you.

"Why don't you two head upstairs, hmm?" she nods slightly. Her eyes going to the two men before she goes up to her room. Taking her sister with her. You shut the living room door. Shutting your eyes as you lean your head on the door. "Fuck" you mutter. Turning back around as the older one speaks

"You told us your family was dead"

"No I said I was orphaned. I never said my family was dead. Very different things" he nods as he keeps watching you.

"What enemies did you make in London?"

"None that I can't handle" the younger brother laughs. Making you turn towards him "I've dealt with far worse then either of you boys could imagine. I know how to be safe"

"Don't you get worried about your sisters though?" you stay silent "I mean, the reason you didn't tell us about them must've been so we would never find out about them. Never be able to harm them" the younger says. Almost mocking. You take a step closer to him. Keeping heavy eye contact as you speak

"If you ever touch my sisters I will personally rip you apart. Limb by limb. Do you understand?" he stands up. Taking a step towards you

"Was that a threat?" he says. Starting to walk over to you. Tommy moves, facing towards his brother as he puts a hand onto his shoulder as your eyes stay on each others.

"Johnny" he says. A sternness in his voice making the younger look at him. "Go for a walk" he looks at his brother, looks at you. Mutters something under his breath as he opens the door. Leaving. You hear the front door slam shut. You avoid his eyes as you start babbling an apology.

"I'm sorry about that I-"

"I want to make a deal with you" he says. He leans against the wall again. He folds his arms over his torso. His demeanor was a lot more relaxed then yours. You couldn't read him though. You turn to face him properly. Your silence making him continue "I am looking for a wife. I need someone that has no previous associations with myself or my businesses. A positive beacon to my currently negative lifestyle. One that can make me seem trustworthy for future business opportunities"

"Mr Shelby" you say as a soft whisper, your eyes fixed to his as he continues talking

"You said yourself that you have a lot of enemies. Putting not only your life but your sisters lives in danger. I could protect you. The family you have would be safe. I can provide you with money. New clothes. So much food that you would never know what sleeping hungry felt like again" he takes a step towards you. Bringing his arms down as he places them into the pockets of his waistcoat. "You'd be my wife. You'd come with me to professional settings. Help me gain the trust of people that I couldn't on my own" he reaches down. Picking up both the glasses you poured. Handing you one "what do you say?".

You blink at him a couple of times. Taking you a little while before processing what he said. "I am flattered Mr Shelby but... wouldn't a girl of higher status be more rewarding for you? I come from nothing. I have nothing to give you" he pauses for a moment. Eyes unmoving from yours.

"Every time I've met you you've shown me a bravery that no one else has. That is something I value more then riches and materialistic items" you nod slowly as you look down. Thinking through your options before lifting your head up, meeting his gaze as you gently take a glass from him

"Looks like we're getting married" you softly say as you clink your glass to his before downing the liquid. Him letting out a soft chuckle before doing the same

Next

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[hb-writes]

A Familiar Tune

Summary: It’s 1924 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. When Isiah and his girlfriend have a very public break up at the Garrison, Clara tries to make him feel better.

Characters: Isiah Jesus and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: Break ups suck. Some swearing, some drinking, some smoking, mentions of sex. The typical peaky content.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

"Come on, Clara. It's our birthday."

“He’s fine.” 

“Isiah can handle himself.” 

Clara knew it was true. Michael and Finn were right, even if they were both drunk and being right assholes about the whole thing. Finn had even laughed, a bit of his drink spit across the table when Isiah stormed out. 

Clara had tried to smack her brother upside the head in retribution then, but Finn had stopped her, the tightly wrapped fingers around her wrist easily able to quell the attack. Part of her had wanted to go for another swing with her free hand, but then she remembered Isiah. 

She remembered the look on his face when he’d left the pub and something ached in her chest, a pain worse than Finn’s hand squeezing her arm. Worse than whatever guilt she felt at leaving the little birthday celebration Finn had cobbled together for the two of them.

“Just leave it, Clara,” Michael said as he sipped from the glass of mild, calm as ever as he remained reclined in his chair.

Clara ignored the guidance as she wrenched her arm free from Finn’s grasp, pulling her coat and then Isiah’s up into her arms as she passed his empty chair. 

His chair in the snug had been empty most of the night as he sat with Lisette and her friends on the other side of the pub. Lisette didn’t like being tucked away in a private room. She liked to see what was going on, liked to watch the dancing even if she didn’t ever want to dance herself, not like her sister who had Finn’s two left feet out on the dance floor most evenings. 

Clara had sometimes wondered if the two of them ought to have switched dates when that bit of knowledge became known, but Clara had kept her mouth shut. The truth was she actually liked Lisette. Well, Clara liked Lisette better than her younger sister, Ada, anyway. She didn't have any interest in setting up Ada and Isiah.

She didn't really want Finn continuing his dalliance with the girl either, but Clara had a feeling things between Ada and Finn weren’t a love for the ages anyhow. How could they be with the girl sharing a name with their older sister? Clara wasn't sure how the name alone didn't weird him out...kissing someone with the same name as their Ada? And surely, the girl wasn't marriage material. There was only room enough in the world for one Ada Shelby.

But Clara kept those thoughts all to herself. Things would work themselves out before it got that far, Clara was certain.

Not that it mattered anyway, because Clara could tell from the beginning that Isiah liked Lisette better, too, something Clara understood, even if she wished she didn’t. Lisette was smart and beautiful and different from the girls who usually flocked to the boys. She was a bit older, for one. A bit more mature. And if it wasn’t for the fact that Clara made a conscious decision of keeping a bit of distance between herself and whoever any of the boys were dating, especially in the beginning stages, she might have thought of her as the type of person she could be friends with. 

Even if it was clear that Lisette was the type of girl who was used to getting precisely what she wanted all the time. Some people might say Clara was the same—her family frequently alluded to the fact that she was spoiled in that way, but Clara knew how to negotiate. She knew how to read people, how to accommodate others. 

From what she’d seen, Lisette didn’t want to do that even if she knew how. 

Clara eyed the booth on the other side of the pub holding the group—Lisette, Ada, and a gaggle of their friends whose names Clara didn’t know—as she pushed through the crowds near the bar. It was clear they were all consoling Lisette in the wake of her breakup even as the rest of the pub had already moved on with their merrymaking, singing along and dancing to the familiar tune being sung from the makeshift stage at the back of the pub. 

Clara had a vision of herself crossing the pub and shooing the lot of them away, calling in her status as a Shelby to bar them from the pub for all eternity, but a bit of cool air blasted through the front door, raising bumps on her arms and her mind remembered where her body was taking her on instinct, trailing in Isiah’s wake though she was already a few minutes behind him by now. 

Clara shivered as she pushed out into the night, a curse slipping through her lips as the door swung shut behind her. She fumbled with the coats in her hand, realizing she should have slipped her own on before coming outside and she worked to slip her arm into it while keeping Isiah’s from touching the muddy ground. 

It wasn’t a particularly long walk to Isiah’s house, but it would feel longer in the cold. Clara had successfully sheathed one arm when she heard her name, the sound of it so quiet and small it nearly hurt to hear, almost as if it wasn’t certain in its conviction. Wasn’t certain in wanting to be known. 

Clara spun on her heel, steeling her face even as she remained tangled up in coats, one arm still bared to the elements. For a moment as she met Isiah’s eye, she wondered which one of them was trying harder to remain neutral, and she studied him as he took a silent drag from his cigarette, his breathing calm and deep, his countenance so unbothered, almost as if he and Lisette hadn’t just broken things off in front of everyone in the Garrison.  

“That for me?” Isiah asked, gesturing toward the overcoat she held carelessly bundled in her arm. 

He didn’t look cold, but Isiah was good at looking like things he wasn’t when he wanted to be—happy, unbothered, not cold. Even if Clara could see through it. 

She stepped forward to hand it over and Isiah easily slipped his arms inside, his cigarette parked between his lips for the duration.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Clara said as she shoved her arm into the jacket and fumbled with the buttons, securing them all the way to the top. 

Isiah shrugged and cleared the ash from the end of his cigarette. The truth was he was fucking freezing. His suit jacket still sat at Lisette’s table and he had realized his stupidity the moment he stepped outside. He had been too stubborn to go back inside, too stubborn even to roll down his shirt sleeves, and he tried to repress the shiver that skittered across his skin now. 

It was then that Clara realized something looked off, that the familiar black overcoat wasn’t sitting on Isiah’s frame quite right, and she disappeared without a word, returning a moment later with the forgotten suit jacket dangling from her fingers. 

Clara hadn’t said a word to the group of girls, simplying leaning around them and retrieving Isiah’s jacket with a tug before walking back out through the door. 

Isiah mumbled his thanks as Clara held the jacket out to him, the pair of them quiet as he stripped out of the overcoat and passed it back to her waiting arms so he could get situated, the burning cigarette parked between his lips once again.

“Where do you want to go?” Clara asked once Isiah pulled the dwindling cigarette away from his mouth. 

Isiah shook his head, clearing the ash. “It’s alright. You go back in.” 

They were meant to be celebrating Finn and Clara’s impending birthdays, just a few days out. It had been Finn’s idea to celebrate both the weekend before and after, and he’d convinced Clara, but she hadn’t really cared. She was much more looking forward to celebrating with her family. Much more looking forward to Ada and Karl coming in for a short visit. 

But this had been what Finn wanted, so she obliged. 

“I’m not going back in without you,” she said. “And I’m not standing out here all night either,” she continued, her words picking up speed and force and a certain sharpness that was so familiar to Isiah it was nearly a comfort, a fair bit better than him listening to the annoying voice inside his head. “And don’t tell me you want to be alone either because I know—”

“I don’t,” Isiah answered, and Clara’s face softened, the corners of her mouth falling a bit.

“I’m sorry, Is,” she said after swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. 

Isiah nodded. He knew she meant it, though he wasn’t sure what she was sorry about. The break up or the way it had happened or all of it or something else entirely. Clara could be odd like that, thinking about things that weren’t even on Isiah’s radar in a particular situation, but the intricacies of it didn’t matter, just that he knew it was sincere, could feel her concern more than he’d felt anything else lately, and it warmed him. 

Isiah didn’t even know what he felt about the break up. Some part of him was numb, barely feeling it, even though they’d made a bit of a scene doing it in public like that. Isiah could have made it an even bigger scene. He could’ve put on an even bigger show, but he had let it be. He knew it wasn’t worth it. What he wanted didn’t matter, not when Finn was still seeing the sister.

“So what do you want to do?” Clara asked, a question Isiah would swear he hadn’t heard in ages. Not a single Blinder cared what he wanted and though his father solicited his opinion often enough, Isiah hadn’t been home for a meal with the man in what felt like ages now, not since he’d been dating Lisette, at least. 

Lisette certainly hadn’t asked his opinions, used as she was to getting what she wanted. Isiah didn’t think it was malicious, just that it hadn’t occurred to her to consider someone else. Isiah had liked her well enough, and the sex had been good enough, that he’d convinced himself to go along with her whims. Some part of him was entranced by her and the ways he was so different from her that he’d been warmed to see her happy, even if it meant losing part of himself in her wants and her needs. 

Clara was patient, remaining quiet as she waited on Isiah’s answer, already reading his desire as he stubbed out his cigarette and pushed off the wall. 

“Let’s walk a bit.” 

Clara waited for him to take the first step, waited for him to determine their course even if some part of her knew where he wanted to go. They were quiet, the pair of them with hands stuffed in their pockets as they walked to the end of Garrison Lane, turning off onto Watery Lane and stopping before number 6. Clara fished her key out of her pocket and handed it off to Isiah as they approached the darkened door. 

Some part of Clara wondered if the key should have been Isiah’s anyway. He certainly spent more time in her childhood home than she did, but he wasn’t family—not blood, at least—and only her and her siblings and her aunt had keys to the family home. 

Isiah passed the key back to her as he pushed open the door, holding it open and allowing Clara to pass over the threshold first. Isiah latched the door behind them before wordlessly moving to the fireplace where he started on getting it lit in the near dark. 

Clara left him alone, navigating the first floor in the dark and returning a few minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from John’s office in the shop. Isiah didn’t look away from the fire as she entered, his arms rested on his knees as he watched the flames. 

Clara set aside the bottle and glasses, retrieving Isiah’s suit jacket and overcoat from where he’d discarded them on the floor and settling them on a hook by the stairs. Clara grabbed the whiskey and glasses as she moved back across the room. She plopped down on the floor beside him and immediately poured out two hefty servings in each of the glasses. Isiah hooked a finger in one glass, quickly pulling it over and knocking back the contents and setting it back down before Clara could even stopper the bottle. 

Clara quickly moved to pour him another shot, but Isiah’s hand caught her wrist, his fingers gentle as he stopped her and guided the bottle from her hand, all the while his eyes remained on the fire, the warmth of it almost too hot on both of their faces. 

Clara took a slow sip of her whiskey, trying not to hiss at the fiery sting in her throat. She’d been sipping mild all night and she wasn’t sure what was causing the sudden heat in her cheeks—the liquor or the flame or the words swirling in her head and her heart. 

“I want to say something, but I don’t want you to get mad.” 

Isiah snorted. “That’s a promising start.” 

Clara sighed on the end of a deep breath, forcing herself to take another sip. She tried to keep the commentary on Isiah’s relationships to herself at this point. They’d had enough tiffs about it, that Clara had learned her opinion wasn’t wanted most times. Her reservations weren’t wanted. And unless Isiah solicited her, she didn’t share. And even then, what she shared was always tempered, restrained just a little. 

Isiah knew as much, but they’d both decided to let it be. It was better than arguing. 

“Well, what is it?” Isiah finally asked. He pulled his gaze away from the fire to look at her, watching for a moment as she focused on swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. Isiah set his hand over the glass, and Clara set the glass aside before shifting her body so she sat facing him, the fire blazing against her back. 

“I just wonder…” she started, reaching out to take his hand, training her eyes on their intertwined fingers. “...I wonder if maybe it’s for the best, Is?” she said. “I know it may not feel that way now, but—”

Isiah was quiet even after Clara stopped herself, wondering if it was her place to say these things, wondering if it wasn’t better to keep these thoughts to herself after all. 

“Go ahead,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s not as if you’d be able to keep whatever it is to yourself anyhow, eh?” 

“I could,” Clara answered, her back straightening and her tone sharpening a bit in a defiance she was nearly powerless to control. “...if you wanted me to. If you didn’t want my…opinion.” 

As hard as it would be for her…especially when it came to Isiah, she could do it if that was what he wanted. If her silence would soothe him more than her words, she’d honor it—for now at least. 

It wouldn’t be too hard and it wasn’t as if her opinion, her guidance, was needed when it came to a subject matter with which Clara was so personally unfamiliar. She was no expert in love or relationships. Her brothers had always been quick to remind her of that fact whenever she’d tried to offer them some sort of guidance in regards to their love lives. 

Isiah stayed quiet, urging her to continue only with his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled his hand away. Clara let both of their hands settle on her lap and Isiah felt the gentle twist of his pinky ring as she twisted it, barely aware of the nervous habit. 

Isiah had been tempted to test out Clara’s assertion, to make her squirm while trying to keep the words on the tip of her tongue, but not only did Isiah not believe in her ability to keep her mouth shut longer than a few minutes, but he found himself almost yearning to hear her thoughts, desperate to know if his best friend would end the sentence the same way he would. 

“I just…” she started, still subtly fidgeting with Isiah’s ring until she realized what she was doing and she let his hand go, allowing him to pull it back to his own lap. “You just haven’t seemed much like yourself. You haven’t seemed very…” Clara sorted through the words, trying to decide what precisely she meant and what she could say that might sting the least. 

She wanted to say that he hadn’t seemed particularly happy, even if that declaration felt heavy in her mouth. She wanted to say that she hadn’t seen his cheeky grin in a while. That she hadn’t heard him laugh or seen him excited. She wanted to say that they hadn’t had a dance in ages. And that she didn’t have a clue what he was reading lately, or if he was reading anything at all. It wasn’t that Isiah had seemed wholly unhappy, exactly. Just that he was a bit muted, like a subdued version of himself. A shadow of the person she knew. Neutral and opinionless and far too timid.

“Happy?” Isiah finally suggested, as if he knew—or hoped—that it was the word on the tip of Clara’s tongue. 

“Well, yeah,” Clara sighed. She knew that relationships required compromise. She knew that people had to be a bit malleable in the process of two people coming together, but something had seemed different this time, almost as if Isiah had let a bit of himself go in order to accommodate everything Lisette was. 

Isiah snorted softly and reached out for Clara’s glass, downing the small bit of whiskey left in her glass. “I wasn’t sure anyone noticed.”

“Of course I noticed.” Clara studied Isiah’s face, frowning at the pain etched there in his features. “I just…I didn’t want to stick my nose in. It wasn’t my place.”

Clara had been told time and time again by those in her life to not worry about this or that…to focus on her own responsibilities…to stay out of business not pertaining to her. It seemed to only bring trouble when she did otherwise.

“Since when do you endeavor to keep your nose out of my business?” he asked. “Seems to me you decided my business was as good as yours way back in 1915.”

Isiah’s lips pulled into something resembling a smile, but Clara could tell he was forcing it. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” 

Isiah shook his head. “Since when does it matter what I want?” 

“It’s always mattered,” Clara answered. “And you shouldn’t have to change yourself or compromise or bend over backwards to get what you want, Is. It should be equal. A partnership” He didn’t say anything, didn’t fight or interrupt, so Clara continued. “Someday, someone is going to come along and she’ll be everything you want and you—just as you are—will be what she wants, and sometimes it will be work and it won’t always be easy, but it’ll be work you want to do. It’ll be work you couldn’t imagine not doing, and when it happens, you’ll understand why it never worked out with anyone else because it’ll just make sense. And it’ll feel different. Natural. Right.” 

Isiah was still quiet, listening to Clara as if she was telling him a story, as if she was telling them both a story that they both hoped wasn’t just a fairy tale.

“And when it happens, you’ll be glad Lisette cut you lose now,” she added. “Even if it feels like shit just now.” 

 Clara took a deep breath, preparing herself for Isiah’s response—that she was naive and silly. That she didn’t know anything of any value when it came to love or life. That she read far too many romance novels. Clara knew all of that wouldn’t be out of line. It was a little true that she didn’t have much firsthand experience and that she had read a lot of books, but Isiah didn’t say any of that. He didn’t say anything, simply turning his gaze back to the fire.  

Clara watched Isiah’s adam’s apple bob, a distinct mist shimmering in his eye which Isiah willed himself to control. He could’ve cried in front of Clara. Isiah knew that, but he didn’t want to, even if the words had resonated enough that something ached deep in his chest. 

Clara could feel it, almost as if the pain echoed in her own heart. As his silence stretched on, Clara found herself testing out the words to apologize in her head. She was preparing herself to say them outloud when Isiah let out a breath and rose from the floor.

Isiah stepped across the room, readying the gramophone. Slow songs weren’t what they usually listened to, but the tune was familiar, with a melody she knew by heart. 

Isiah held a hand down to Clara. “You want to dance?”

“Do you want to?” she countered, looking up at him. 

“I want to dance with you,” he said, grabbing Clara’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Haven’t had a decent dance partner in months.” 

Clara quickly fell into step, letting Isiah lead as they twirled around the room, sidestepping the bottle and glasses they’d left on the floor. Isiah let his instincts take over as his mind worked through Clara’s words once again, part of him hoping beyond hope that they were true. 

That someday someone would come along.

That it would be work, but the work would be worth doing.

That it would be different—natural and right. 

They would be partners. Equals. 

And it would be instinctive. 

As easy as dancing along to a familiar tune.

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #isiah jesus #isiah jesus fanfic #clara shelby #little lady blinder

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Fathers & Family Master Post! All the family stories I have are below! (Peaky Blinders & Bullet Train)

Peaky Blinders

Grab an End - Thomas Shelby & Teen Ruby Shelby

Ruby sneaks off to a party and needs Tommy’s help - Hurt / Comfort / Father daughter feels / coming of age

Moving Out - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Little Ruby has had enough of Tommy’s BS - Hurt / Comfort - father-daughter feels / fix it/ happy ending

Sick - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Ruby is on death's door, Tommy and family try to nurse her back to health

Da - Thomas Shelby & Little Teddy Shelby

The Kid’s first words & Tommy’s reaction - Super Fluff

We Are Not Good Men - Thomas Shelby & Adopted Teen Daughter Pt.2

 Reader is adopted when Tommy discovers that she had been working for him as a maid at 15 years old. Extreme fluff & hurt comfort. Hugs. Nondescriptive mentions of assault and beatings

A Vacation - Thomas Shelby X Reader & Family

Tommy needs to step up as a father, when his wife is pregnant again and put on bedrest a vacation is in order. Tommy takes them to stay in Cornwall and the reader watches everyone change for the better.

A Day at the Fair - Shelby boys & Finn

The boys promise him a day at the fair and it doesn’t go as planned - featuring lots of Tommy and Lizzy, plus Arthur and John

London Calling - Shelby Sister Reader

 (Shelby sister) has had enough of her family’s nonsense, she escapes to do things on her own. Only to find out years later the cause of her pain wasn’t what she thought it was.

First Hit - Finn Shelby Comming of Age

An outing takes an unexpected turn and Finn thinks its him time to step up. Featuring lots of kid Finn, buckets of innocence, lots of Tommy, and Lizzy to the rescue.

A Monster Under the Bed - Thomas X Reader & Daughter

Tommy helps a girl with an unexpected request that leads his heart somewhere it hasn’t been before

Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks - Thomas X Lizzie & Adopted Reader

who knew verbally assaulting a nun would win you the perfect family - Series

Growing Pains - Shelby Family & Reader Sister

Reader is the youngest of the Shelby clan and is often excluded due to her softer nature. When she gets hurt at the pub one day it quickly becomes everyone’s problem to fix it and make things right

Dad? - Tommy Shelby & Little Baby Sister

The last Shelby is born just before the war, when Tommy comes back caring for her is one of the only things he finds peace in.

Red - Thomas Shelby X Pregnant Reader

Redhead Reader finds out she’s pregnant with Tommy’s babe. This follows their wonders about what their child will be like.

Betrayal - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

Reader is Tommy’s daughter. When she gets involved with a boy from a rival family, she knows that there is a lot on the line. Unfortunately for her, things don’t end well, causing Tommy to recall what it was like being in love with someone who stabs you in the back

Teddy Bear - Alfie & Little Girl from the Streets - Pt. 2

The reader gets lost wandering the streets, when she sees what she assumes is a bakery she sneaks in hoping to steal some scraps…. She gets caught by Alfie, initially terrified of his big size and loud voice she realizes he’s not so bad after all.

Allergies - Tommy Shelby X Reader Daughter

Thomas meets an unspeakable setback as he welcomes his new daughter into the world

Nonsense - Reader & Little Charlie Shelby

No one can understand what’s bothering little Charlie - no one except the reader

American Girl - Shelby Family & Sister Reader

The reader finds out more about her distant family after her Grandparents pass.

Her Father's Daughter - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Follow up head cannons about how much Ruby adores her father.

Dresses - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

While the ladies of the Shelby family are on vacation you realize you still need to find a ballgown for the big dance. Thankfully your dad is available.

Not a Child Anymore - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

Tommy struggles with his daughter as she starts exploring the world of dating - After falling for Isaiah he catches them and all hell breaks loose

Me, Adopted? - Thomas Shelby & Reader Son

Charlie & Ruby play a prank on their little brother and tell him he's adopted.

I don't want to grow up - Tommy's daughter finds herself in an uncomfortable position while all the women are out of town - father-daughter comfort fic

Bullet Train

Values - Tangerine X Reader - Series

Tangerine can't help himself and decides to mess around while on the job - resulting in a very pregnant reader trying to track him down.

Adopt a Fruit - Tangerine & Lemon & Small reader child

A young girl falls into the hands of our two favorite assassins

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #alfie solomons #finn shelby #shelby family #lizzie shelby #polly gray #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #tangerine #lemon #tangerine & lemon #bullet train #bullet train oneshot #bullet train fanfic #ruby shelby #reader x shelby family

[mythos-writes]

Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So basically tommy is a Single dad to a two year old daughter 2 year old daughter

So basically tommy is at a family meeting and you was clingy all day so Tommy past you to Arthur to hold you while you slept and when u woke up you start to cry Tommy pick you up and Rock you back to sleep and all the family make fun of him for being soft

Hope that make sense

Tommy Shelby x Daughter Reader

Word Count: 765

Warning: swearing, fussy toddler

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy still remembers the day his daughter (Y/N) came into his life. She showed up on the doorstep of Watery Lane with nothing but herself bundled up in a bassinet and a letter. A girl Tommy had a fling with ended up pregnant and didn't want to give it up. So she left it on his doorstep, leaving him with their outcome.

If Tommy had opened the door, she might have ended up at the orphanage, but lucky for her, Polly found her first. Tommy was out doing business in London and Polly was looking after Finn. As it was late at night, Polly was the only one up to hear the knocks on the door. She was greeted by the small bassinet and a sleeping baby inside, covered by a small knitted blanket. She looked up and down the Lane, but no one was in sight. Polly took her in that night. Giving the baby a bath and changing her into some of Finn's baby clothes. When she went to reach for the blanket that the baby came with, a note fell out of the wool blanket. Polly read the note and was shocked, but not surprised, at the content of the note.

When the boys arrived back, they were relatively surprised at this new addition to the family. She walked up to Tommy and handed him the letter. His eyes quickly skimmed over the words telling him the weight he was simply handed. He looked at the little girl in his aunt’s hands. He first wanted her gone, not wanting to bring an innocent child into this life. It was his way of controlling something that he couldn’t control.

Two years later, things had changed. The business and the family have grown and changed, and the young Shelby's children are growing up. Finn is 10, while young (Y/N) is 2. She had become the light in Tommy’s life. When he comes home from a long day at work or a meeting with other gangs, her hugs release his stress or anger. She is also a good distraction when it comes to family meetings. 

Tommy had called a family meeting to discuss some upcoming expansions and see where the family was standing with their parts of the business. The two of them had a rough night before, (Y/N) running a fever and unable to sleep. Which meant Tommy not sleeping. Their morning consisted of little food, minus the bottle she still would take in the morning, and many micro naps between the two Shelby’s. But with the little energy that they both had, they both showed up to the meeting at Waterly Lane. 

“Tommy. Why did you bring (Y/N/N) here? Usually, you leave her with Finn?” Arthur confronts. He is never opposed to seeing his niece, but when it came to these meetings, there was no place for a small innocent lady like his niece. Tommy quickly shushes his brother. 

“Arthur, you wake her up you’ll be floating down the crick,” Tommy threatens in a whisper. He passes his sleeping toddler to her uncle, giving him a small break, knowing how she’ll be when she wakes up from this nap.

“We had a rough night,” is all Tommy said before he quickly moved on to the family meeting that was at hand. But because they’re the Shelby’s, the meeting doesn’t stay quiet for long. 

Tommy yells. In the quietness of the room, it broke by the wines and whimpers of the once-sleeping toddler. Tommy turned to Arthur, seeing his daughter beginning to wake up. 

“Daddy,” she cries. Tommy quickly took her out of Arthur’s hands and pulled her in close. 

“It is ok sweety, daddy is here,” he whispers, trying to calm down his daughter. With his soft rocking, (Y/N) quickly fell back asleep. 

“When did Thomas Shelby become soft,” John joked, nudging Arthur. They giggled to themselves before seeing the look that Tommy was sending them. It was Polly and Ada’s turn to laugh. 

“Just because he is showing his soft side right now, doesn’t mean he won’t put you in your grave himself,” Polly defends her nephew. “John you should take some notes,” she jabs at her other nephew.  John rolls his eyes before lighting a cigar. 

Tommy looked down at his sleeping daughter and felt his ice heart melt a little more. The sounds of the tunnels are mere whispers in his head. Tommy knew he wasn’t a good man, but to (Y/N), he was her everything. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #arthur shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby

[enretrogue]

𝗝𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟮)

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

ONE CHICAGO:

Connor Rhodes

Mine — @halsteadlover

Dream Partners — @sjhhemmings

Comfortable — @kiddbegins

Babysitting 101 — @iamwhoami

Emergency Love — @callsign-dexter

Plan — @lcvesjj

Jay Halstead

Kiss It, Kiss It Better Baby — @halsteadlover

Haunted — ^

Night Struggles — ^

Our Little Family — ^

A New Milestone — ^

Under Fire — ^

Shadows From the Past — ^

“Ladies love a guys who’s good with kids” ⎢ Part 2  — @poppadom0912

Uncle and Niece (Platonic) — ^

Love on Ice — ^

30 Hours — @dandelionfairyyy

Halstead’s Favorite Duo — @ballarkeselection

Exciting — @fangirlfrom-hell

CPD Gala — @hereforhalstead

Home — @deanstead

The Way You Are — @loislane41319

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Alfie Solomons

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7 — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Request 24 — @fandom-puff

Living with Alfie Solomons — @heavencanbeaprisontoo

The Silent Treatment — @warnersister

Luca Changretta

Living with Luca HCs — @heavencanbeaprisontoo

Thomas Shelby

Me Time — @garrison-girl-08

Daddy’s Princess — ^

Tommy Convincing His Wife to Stop Being Angry — @wutheringcaterpillar

Of Bending and Breaking — @call-sign-shark

Mr. Forgettable — @mrkdvidal1989

Time After Time Chapter 14 — @all-mirth-no-matter

Wedding Day — @cillianthinker

When She Laughs, The Heavens Hum a Stun Gun Lullaby — @saintmuses

SONS OF ANARCHY:

Filip “Chibs” Telford

The Last to Know — @kdogreads

Imagine Being Chibs’ Old Lady ⎢ Part 2 — ^

Imagine Taking In the Teller Boys With Chibs — ^

Very Soon — ^

My Dove — ^

Ruin — @bullet-prooflove

No Words — ^

Teach Me How to Ride — @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pussyfooting — @indifferent-depravity

Happy Lowman

Violent Little Thing — @fanficimagery

Your Family Disapproving of Happy — @imagineredwood

Angst to Fluff Prompts — @ravennaortiz

Flash Fic Request — @withmyteeth

Cocoa Wars — @darqchilddaydreamz

Miss Me — @marvelous-slut

Just for Today — @obsessedasusual

Jackson “Jax” Teller

Relentless — @violentdelightsandviolentends

Heatwave — ^

Insomnia — @spaghettificationandpretzels

You Aren’t Meant to Be Back Until Christmas Eve — @rebelwrites

Only Mine — @thisreadswhatever

Fluff Prompt — @youvebeenlivingfictional

I’m Sorry — @pumpkin-writes

Rescued — @garbinge

Harry “Opie” Winston

Nowhere to Be — @drabbles-mc

Stolen Sweater — @i'm-just-a-mississippi-girl

Good Honest Work — @spaghettificationandpretzels

#navigation

[motherofdogs1010]

Little Darling III (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual pinv sex, eventual smut, stripper!reader, heavy petting, dry humping, language, drinking, cannon Peaky Blinder violence

A/N: So here is the re-do of Part III, I felt so much better about it! Also, I feel that 'West Coast' by Lana Del Ret would be on a playlist for this story

Also, comment if you want to join taglist

💋 Banner by @vase-of-lilies 💋 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part I Part II

Thomas buried his hand in her ringlet curls, Y/N could feel the way he gripped her hair as she continued rocking against his bulge and let out a whimper as she passed her swollen clit over again; Tommy gripping her chin with his other hand as their kiss became filthy with saliva falling over their lips as their tongues found each other.

The pain in her cunt from her lust made a whimper escape her lips again as Tommy let the hand that was in her hair trail down to her underwear, slipping his hand under the thin fabric, letting a calloused finger glide through her slick folds as her hips buckled at the feeling.

"Soaked through this flimsy thing", Thomas said, breaking the kiss. "Barely covered under cunt with this thing."

"That's the point", she said, seeing the red lipstick smeared all over his mouth. "It's called a thong."

Tommy brought his hand out from her underwear, letting a finger slid under the string.

"Quite the little invention", he said.

"Want to see something else?" she breathed, pressed her breasts against him.

"What?"

"You want to see how some establishments dance over in America?" she teased with a sultry grin before reaching behind her back and unclipping her bra.

Tommy watched with lustful eyes as she slowly slid down the straps before fully tossing away the bra, her heart was beating out of her chest and a part of her was screaming at her for doing this. But she was high off of the thrill as she felt him reach out to her body, sliding his hands up her stomach before cupping her heavy breasts, thumbing her slowly hardening nipples.

"Show me how they dance, Little Darling..."

Y/N found herself wiping off the smeared red lipstick off her mouth as she looked at herself in the mirror, the smeared mascara; she disregarded her appearance as she continued to wipe down her face free of the makeup before moving to fix her hair and change into her regular clothes since her shift was over.

She realized how close she was to actually having sex with Tommy Shelby, had it not been for the bouncer knocking on the door to check on her, she knew she would have given into the man. She knew she would have let the man have his way with her in that room and a part of her regretted not having let the man do that.

She could still feel the man's hands over her body, his rough thumb rubbing circles on her clit as she shakily rocked and swayed her hips as their lips greedily clung to one another before he drove his finger into her sopping cunt, whispering how soaked she was.

She shook her head, that was a problem for the Y/N in the morning to think about...

Tommy drove his motorcar with Arthur and John chattering away about the club, trying to not replay the events of the private room dance so he wouldn't have a hard-on.

"Tom, Tom", Arthur said, "I swear we need to get a hand in this club."

"The money, the dancers", John continued with a grin. "If expansion is what you want, we need to get this club under our belt."

Tommy raised a brow, he wondered how much that 'expansion' idea was for them or for John to continue to his dancers.

"And here you were against expansion", Tommy mused with a smirk.

"If it means having ladies as fine as them, I'm all for it."

It was the next day as she sat at her table that she contemplated what she had done, sipping her tea as she rubbed her temple. Y/N scolded herself for giving into the Birmingham gangster when she heard a knock at her door, standing up as she tied her robe around her as she went to the foyer of her home, opening to door and see the Devil himself incarnate.

"Quite the transformation", Tommy said as he blew out smoke. "Catholic girl by night, little temptress by night."

"How did you find out where I live?" she hissed, shoving the man inside because of how nosey her neighbors were.

"I'm Thomas Shelby, I know where everyone lives", he said as he walked further into her home.

Y/N felt aggravated that the man showed up, marching after him as she found him making himself at home in her kitchen; he was sitting in one of her chairs, legs slightly spread as he smoked his cigarette, his blue eyes roaming her figure shamelessly.

"Why are you here?" she asked, sitting back in her seat with a glare.

"Do your neighbors know what you do?" he asked, "do they know you dance for men? You dance for me for money?"

She stayed silent and she knew he got his answer as he let out a dark chuckle.

"Of course they don't. No proof of it, right? You can always tell a whore from any other person on the street, but not a stripper. That's what it's called, right?"

"You sound like you enjoy listening to yourself."

"I enjoy few things and that is not one of them."

It was like a game of chess, seeing who had the upper hand in the game as she stared at the man, who was burning his eyes into her.

"At night, you love when I pay you to dance for me. I think we both know last night was quite the dance you gave me."

"I performed a service for you, figured it would a nice way to get a bigger tip from you."

Tommy hummed before putting his cigarette out in her tea cup, pushing himself up out of his seat as he walked over to her. He caged her in the seat, bringing his face close to hers and their breaths mingled as she could smell the nicotine in his breath, smell the aftershave and cologne that he used.

"Last time proved something to me and gave me a thought."

"What was that?" she asked as she felt her heart beating in her throat.

"How much of a whore I can make you be for me when the sun's out?"

With that, he crashed his lips against hers...

TAGLIST

@amanda08319 @crispynutella @neonpurplestars89-blog @forgottenpeakywriter

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy #chubby reader #x reader #reader insert #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader

[pacifymebby]

Peaky Blinders Headcannons

Your Ex Returns To Start Trouble

So this was originally an anon request in my inbox, but then it disappeared from my inbox before i could answer it. I hope this is what you wanted anon, i couldnt remember exactly how u worded the request.

Swear the little pictures i use for these get stupider every time.

Tommy

🌿Isnt worried about you going back to them but he is pissed off at the audacity of the young man whose just walked up to you as if hes expecting you to fall straight at his feet

🌿Holds himself back at first, for your sake. He doesnt want to embarrass you by causing a scene at this party. Not when you're dressed up so beautifully, you look classy, like a real sophisticated young lady...

🌿He was watching the encounter from the other side of the room but when he sees your ex approach you, he cuts across the room to your side as if its a race to you.

🌿 "Everything alright angel?" he comes to stand behind you, one hand taking yours. The other holding his drink. He keeps your back pressed against his chest. Holding you very close, very possessive.

🌿You can't see the look hes giving your ex but your ex has just paled. Its the "This is my girl and you're lucky i havent taken your eyes just for looking at her..." look

🌿 You like how possesive Tommys being, you lean back against him, enjoying how safe you feel with him standing with you.

🌿He won't say anything to warn the lad away, the look in his eyes and the fact that hes Tommy Fucking Shelby, should be enough.

🌿"Everythings fine Tommy, i was just telling (your ex's name) about the donation we're making to the local school..." youve given Tommy the name on purpose, letting him know that its your ex... As if he didnt already know. Because your ex isn't the nicest lad and he makes you unconfortable.

🌿"Oh aye, we're going to build them a new gym..." hes making polite conversation but he can't wait to cut in and take you away from him, "now if you don't mind i need to borrow my wife for a moment, dont worry she won't be long..." but youre not his wife and hes going to keep you away from your ex for the rest of the evening. Lets the rest of the peaky boys so know who he is and instructs them to make sure youre not left on your own for the rest of the night.

🌿For the most psrt he'll be the one standing with you, dancing with you, keeping his hands on you at all time so that you know hes there, that youre safe, that youre his.

🌿If that look wasn't enough to deter the prick whose got his eyes on you Tommy will probably approach him later, after the party, they'll have a "quiet word" man to man and well, honestly, I'd be surprised if you ever see your ex again

🌿He wouldnt kill him... Just scare him away, for good.... Unless the stupid bastards feeling brave

🌿If the stupid bastards feeling brave he might end up dead.

🌿Also, if Tommy knows your ex didn't treat you good, if he knows he hurt you in any way at all, he won't be so civil. From the get go there will be threats. The second he sees the man enter the room.

🌿Your ex won't get a chance to speak to you, before he can even get close to you Tommy will have cut in, made no attempt to hide his hatred.

🌿"No, fuckin no..." He'll have grabbed him by the collar, dragged your ex out into the corridor, or maybe even outside into the street, shoved him up against the wall, completely merciless.

🌿"You think I'm a generous man mr (your ex's last name), is that what you've heard? You think I'm generous eh?" "If you can give me one single reason why i shouldn't cut you just for setting foot in the same fuckin city as my girl, i might consider letting you go..."

🌿 His brothers will have come outside to see what the fuss is and if they know who your ex is and what hes done in the past they'll all delight in fucking with him, messing him up.

🌿If they dont kill him, you certainly won't be hearing from him again.

🌿Tommy will be gentle with you inside the party, he'll come back to check that you're alright and reassure you that your ex won't be back.

🌿 "Never have to worry about him again angel, thats a promise..."

🌿Then later, riled up and feeling extra territorial and possesive he'll take you kind of rough, it'll be loving and intense, but rough.

🌿"Whose girl are you y/n?" "Yours Tommy, only yours," "only mine, good girl,"

Alfie

🐻 You being somewhat younger and him being well, an old, injured man with less stamina than he would once have had in his youth, Alfie might feel a little threatened by the sudden presence of your ex boyfriend.

🐻 You haven't been with many men and actually Alfie is the only one you've ever slept with, so hes concerned you might find yourself wondering what ifs...

🐻 But lets face it, hes got eyes and ears all over Camden Town and he probably knows about your ex being back before you do.

🐻 So what he does is this... He invites your ex boyfriend to visit him in his office, he offers him some bread, is overly hospitable... Your ex doesnt really know who he is or what hes walking into, but he gets a drunk with Alfie in his office and then after a little while of Alfie doing small talk and telling him stories Alfie stops.

🐻 He puts his glass down and the atmosphere changes immediately...

🐻 "Lets get down to business then, enough small talk right, cause somethin ive heard about you yeah treacle... Is that you..." pointing at him across the table with a mean glint in his eyes, "you, are a bit of a cunt..."

🐻 Alfie knows this boy didnt treat you good in the past and actually hes always wished he could teach the selfish bastard a lesson... One about respecting women.

🐻 "See me and you yeah we have somethin in common? Me and you, yeah, we have a mutual... Lets call her a friend yeah, me and you we have a mutual friend, pretty funny that aint it... An old man like me, and a little fuckin boy like you having a mutual friend, yeah i think thats pretty fuckin funny treacle, dont you?"

🐻 Your ex is getting more and more nervous by the second, hes starting to worry hes gotten himself in trouble here, what once appeared to be a friendly business man trying to sell his bread on the street, now appears to be a slightly unhinged, angry potentially violent man...

🐻 "You remember y/n do you? And be careful right treacle be very fuckin careful yeah because if I hear you say her name... If i even think youre about to say her fuckin name... Ive got a gun in my drawer right and i will fuckin kill you yeah, i will, I'll shoot you in the head and all your brains or what little of them youve got anyway, will go splattering up that wall and you know what, it'll make an absolutely horrible mess right... And the smell... The fuckin smell... Course treacle you wont need to worry about the smell will you, you wont have a fuckin nose... "

🐻Alfies going to give him one big speech about how you ought to treat women and then what hes going to do, is reach into his drawer and offer your ex a deal or death.

🐻" My offer to you treacle, and i think its a generous one right, you tell me if you dont think it is but i think you'll probably agree with me yeah cause i really am being very generous," "my offer is this right, you can keep your brains and your nose and your pretty blue eyes treacle and you can fuck off yeah, out of this city, maybe i dont know, maybe go to fuckin wales or somethin i dont know, go join the sheepshaggers in the valleys yeah? But you don't ever set foot in this city ever again... Thats it thats the deal alright? Fuck off, or you die, pretty simple pretty generous i reckon you'll agree..."

🐻 Your ex takes the deal, alfie thinks hes a fucking coward, but your ex takes the deal.

🐻"Oh and one more thing right treacle," just as your ex is about to leave, "if my little girl ever fancies holidaying in Wales yeah, taking a little stroll through those green, green fucking valleys... Well, you'll have to pull your knob out them fuckin sheep and find some other shithole to hide in alright,"

🐻Your ex is trembling, clearly petrified and utterly convinced he's about to die...

🐻 But Alfie isnt a generous man. Hes a jealous one and before he lets your ex go he shoots him in the leg three times.

🐻 Just in case he ever thinks about trying to fuck other pretty girls like you.

🐻"Oh sorry mate sorry, i must have slipped musnt i,"

🐻 When he goes home to you that evening hes brought you flowers and hes feeling extra romantic and soft. "Come here ziskeit, come sit in your old mans lap and tell him how much you love him... Promise you'll never leave him yeah, ever..."

Arthur

🍂 Idk bestie you might want to try holding your man back

🍂 He's going to be jealous, full of hatred, violent...

🍂 Doesnt really matter whether your ex was a bad guy or not... Only really matters that hes your ex and hes back and arthur fucking hates him.

🍂 Makes it worse that your ex has walked right into the betting shop about to place his bets when he sees you and shoots you a wink.

🍂 "y/n love its been awhile, what're you doin in here? Surely a pretty girl like you can do a bit better than a shithole like this?" neither of you had noticed Arthur until he speaks, one hand on your ex's shoulder. He seems calm for a brief second.

🍂 "watch where youre callin a shithole mate?"

🍂 Your ex turns around slowly to come face to face with a man he wishes he didny recognise. He knows Arthur, everyone in small heath knows arthur.

🍂 "S... Sorry mr Shelby..." he starts but the problem is Arthur had been looking for a reason to smack him since he first saw him walk in...

🍂 "Arthur love he aint worth it, just kick him out of the and be done with it?" you ask knowing that's not whats going to happen... Maybe you are a little scared for your ex?

🍂 When your ex puts two and two together and realises that Arthur is your new man, well he knows he's fucked. He turns to you, tries to plead but that just gives you the ick?

🍂 "Oh grow up (your ex's name), youre a man arent ye?" you turn your back on him then, ignore his cries for help as Arthur and John drag him out of the shop.

🍂 Arthur doesnt kill him but only because his brothers manage to stop him. Hes all fired up though and he wont be calming down any time soon...

🍂 Unless you go to him that is...

🍂 You slip away from your desk and go to him in the street. You see the blood left by your ex and you see the blood on Arthur...

🍂 "Arthur my love come now, lets take you home and get you washed yeah?" you say as you run your hands through his hair.

🍂Hes doing that heavy breathing and when you hug him, combing your fingers through his hair you can hear his heart beat going a million miles an hour.

🍂 So you take him home and you run him a bath and you strip slowly before climbing in with him. You massage him, wrap your legs around him from behind and let your hands soap his body intimately. Then you take his cock in your hand and begin to jerk him slowly, teasing him, kissing all over his neck, humming to him

🍂 Youre calming him down but youre getting him all worked up too.

🍂 You're talking to him in a low, soft voice, telling him how much you love him, how you only have eyes for you, how youre his girl, his woman, telling him you want to make him feel good.

🍂 "good girl, fuckin my girl y/n my fuckin girl," "I'm all yours arthur shelby, all yours..."

🍂 Riding his cock in the bath, splashing water everywhere, him taking all his anger, jealousy and adrenaline out on you.

🍂 And yeah, you don't hear from your ex again but you find out through a friend that he packed up and left town... Once he got out of hospital that is.

John

🌼 Too confident that you love him and that there isnt anyone better than him, to ever feel jealous or to worry that you might go back to your ex

🌼 "If he wants to humiliate himself let him humiliate himself,"

🌼 Enjoys watching you reject your ex in public, at the Garrisson when he tries to make a pass at you.

🌼 "I've moved on, got myself a real man..." "Oh yeah who?"

🌼 Thats when John will make an appearance, he'll probably walk right up to you and kiss you deeply, hands on your arse squeezing you close to him right in front of your ex. Who just has to stand there and accept it... They're embarrassed thats for sure...

🌼 "Oh sorry mate are you a friend of y/n's, I'm John, John Shelby..." Johns grinning like a teenage boy, delighting in humiliating this poor lad.

🌼 But this poor lad cheated on you once and thats why you ended things with him, so you dont feel bad for it and John isnt going to feel guilty.

🌼 He will steer you away from the lad without letting you say goodbye, probably lifting you up off your feet and carrying you away, taking you to a back room for a quickie...

🌼 Just because he can, and because he wants that lad to know exactly whats going on. Hes going to mess you up, your hair will be a mess, your lipstick a little smudged, he might even leave a love bite and then hes gonna pat you on the bum and send you back out into the bar so that your ex can see youre freshly fucked.

🌼 Hes more interested in showering you with love and affection than he is fucking up your ex. But if your ex was particularly horrible to you then John might send Isaiah after him to give him a scare.

🌼 He'll be too busy with you though to be wanting to waste time kicking the lads head in. He'll be feeling possessive, wont be able to keep his hands off you all night.

🌼 But if your ex doesnt take the hint and clear off, if john happens to see him lingering around a few days later, he might just snap

🌼 Because he doesnt like him and he'll be pissed to see that your ex hasn't taken the fucking hint.

🌼 "Do you really need telling twice eh? You gonna keep your fuckin distance or am i gonna have to take your fuckin eyes?"

🌼 He hadn't seen the point in getting violent, completely confident that there was no greater pain he could cause your ex than the pain of knowing that you had moved on, that you were fucking a Peaky Blinder and you were being completely satisfied...

🌼 But if your ex isn't careful he's going to find out that John Shelby can live up to his violent reputation. That he also has a tendency to outdo himself every time too.

🌼If he finds out after the fact from you that your ex was much worse than he first realised, if you open up to him about how your ex hit you or hurt you in anyway... A switch will flip in his head

🌼 He'll hunt the lad back down. "Realised i wasn't actually fuckin finished with you mate," if your ex hurt you John will kill him no questions asked. No one gets away with hurting his flower.

🌼 When he comes back to you he'll be sweet and loving and well, still possesive.

🌼 "Y/N flower come here, come here right now..." he'll hokd your face in his hands, have you standing as close to him as he can get you, "i fuckin love you alright, i love you so fuckin much and i promise you... No slimy fuckin bastard like that, is ever getting his hands on you again alright, no ones gonna hurt you,"

🌼 He'll be more territorial around you i public too, he'll make sure everyone knows that youre his. He'll hold your hand, have his arm around you. He struggles to keep his hands off you at the best of times anyway but it will be much worse (better) after this whole affair.

🌼 Will come home with flowers and expensive gifts for you...

🌼 "Whats the matter john, he remind you you might still have competition or somet?"

🌼 "Nah love, not worried about that, know youre my flower... Just wanted to make sure you know it..." "I treasure you just as much today as i did the first day i met you and every day since..."

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie doesn't have any exes. Youre the only person he's ever had eyes for, ever since you were both wee and so

🍀 When another family joins yours and his travelling through the midland countryside... And that family happens to be your ex's family... Which puts you and your ex in close proximity again

🍀Bonnie is a little unhappy with that.

🍀He's not insecure, he knows youre his girl and honestly, he knows hes a better catch than your ex...

🍀Hes going to be the most famous boxer in the world... Hes going to give you the whole world one day... Obviously hes a better catch than some Buckland lad you never even slept with..

🍀But he still feels possessive of you, still feels protective. Especially when your ex is being a little bit too familiar with you at the camp. When Bonnie sees your ex putting a blanket around your shoulder and sitting next to you by the fire, bringing your bowl of stew to you so you dont habe to get up... It pisses Bonnie off because he feels like the lads crossing some kind of line.

🍀 But he tries to keep the peace for your sake. His dad reminds him that they may only be around a week or so... But Bonnies getting more annoyed by the day.

🍀 He does stuff to mark his territory, slips under your blanket with you when youre sitting by the fire, kisses you on the cheek on the forehead whenever he sees you.

☘️ Holds your hand at every opportunity. Lets you fall asleep on him by the fire, takes you away from the camp on long long walks so he can get you alone.

🍀 "Know you don't like him Bon... And just so you know i don't like him either... Wish he was gone twice as mucn as you do believe me..." one night you feel guilty, feel like youre keeping secrets from him so you decide to open up and tell him about why you really broke up with your ex.

🍀 "Not a nice lad really Bon, used to get dead jealous like, said me and you were too close but that was when me and you were just friends right... This one time, and it really was just one time i promise... This one time he got so mad when we were arguing about it that he..." Bonnies listening to you carefully, trying to control his emotions cause he doesn't want to upset you when he can already see youre getting upset. When you trail off he swallows a lump in his throat, he actually think he knows what youre going to say before you say it...

🍀 "You remember when i fell out of that tree?" "You came back to us with that great big bruise on your cheek and blood in your hair..." "Didnt fall out of no tree Bon..." you say with a sad smile.

🍀 Before he does anything else he throws his arms around you and pulls you into the tightest bear hug, holds your head to his chest and closes his whole embrace around you protectively, hes veru quiet, concentrating on his breathing, his hearts racing but he knows he can't get angry now... Not when his dove needs comforting.

🍀"Dove you shoulda told me sweetheart, wouldn't have let him anywhere near you if I'd known," "Wish you'd told us when it was had happened, little cunt would have..."

🍀"Bonnie please don't, it was only once, he never did it again..." "Once is once too many little dove, men don't hit women, it ain't right..."

🍀 But when he can see youre getting upset he forces himself to calm down, kisses your temple, your hair, your forehead, kisses your nose and your eyes, is so soft and gentle with you.

🍀"If you don't want me to hit him i won't hit him alright, promise..." "thanks Bonnie," "but I'm also promising you this alright, youre not gonna have to talk to him ever again, not gonna let him anywhere near you, you stay close to me for the rest of the week an i won't leave you alone at all..."

🍀And he doesnt, he stays by your side the whole time, holding your hand, holding your waist, flirting with you whenever he can, doing his best to make you laugh and smile. When youre trying to hang washing up or get on with work he's trying to distract you.

🍀And your ex is frustrated to see it. He never liked Bonnie Gold, probably because he always knew deep down that it was Bonnie your heart belonged to, even if back then you didnt know it. He's getting jealous and maybe even a little angry.

🍀But he doesnt do anything cause he knows Bonnies the best fighter, probably in the whole country? And hes a bit of a coward.

🍀So instead of challenging Bonnie, he starts making snide comments about you. Just little things, cruel things. "So i was right then was I... You and Bonnie, always fuckin said it would happen..." youre doing your best to ignore him, and you dont tell bonnie about whats been said because you know it would only cause trouble.

🍀But then this lad gets himself into trouble, calls you "whore" and Bonnie overhears him.

🍀 "What did you fuckin say?" Bonnie stands up immediately, he knows he promised he wouldnt hit the lad for what was in the past but he's not going to let him get away with bullying you now.

🍀Theres tension, the lad debates whether or not to repeat himself. He backs down but Bonnie isnt about to let him get away with being a coward and a bully... So he grabs him by his braces, lifts him a little off his feet and gets right in his face.. He is a peaky boy after all..

🍀 "You're lucky i made a promise not to fuckin hit you dinlow, but if you ever speak to my girl ever again i wont just fuckin hit you alright?"

🍀He keeps his promise to you, doesnt hurt the lad. And when he returns to your side hes so loving and kind. "Come here little dove, are you alright, don't let him upset you eh, youre my girl now flower, youre so fucking loved."

Isaiah

🐀 First things fucking first, if this ex happens to be someone who hurt you in the past, Isaiah will take his eyes, he shouldnt, but he will. He'll do it without even thinking about it, right there in the street.

🐀For all that hes cocky and over confident on the outside he is a little threatened when your ex turns up.

🐀The guys pretty good looking and Isaiah knows that the two of you were fucking.

🐀When he sees you talking to your ex at the bar he gets mad, he comes over to you immediately but he doesnt say anything. Just presses his body against yours and slips his fingers into the waistband of your skirt.

🐀The actions subtle enough that no one else notices but you do. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs them up just a little causing them to rub against you.

🐀The action shocks you enough that you start to choke on your drink... Which was Isaiahs intention all along. The minute you start to cough he tucks you away under his arm.

🐀"Alright sweetheart, looks like someones had too much, its alright I've got you girl, ive got you..." patting your back making a scene of stealing you away from your ex and taking you home.

🐀"What was all that about?" you ask innocently, you genuinely dont understand what he was doing... But Isaiah just holds your hand tight and drags you home.

🐀"You playing games with me girl? You forget who you belong to eh?" "Ohhh," you realise giggling when you understand what's going on, "and did you bring me home to remind me who i belong to yeah? You jealous?"

🐀"No, im not fuckin jealous, you just seemed pretty fuckin forgetful is all... Thought id do you a favour, bring you home before you could get yourself in trouble..." "And am i in trouble?" You're being provocative, trying to get yourself into trouble because Isaiah is even better at fucking you when he's a little angry.

🐀Youre in the mood for it rough and posessive and so you push his buttons taking little digs at his ego until he bends you over the dresser, makes you look at yourself in the mirror...

🐀Makes you watch him fucking you from behind, holds you by the hair so he can keep your head up.

🐀"Look at that pretty girl there eh, who does she belong to y/n? Tell me who she fucking belongs to?" you shake your head and refuse trying to tip him over the edge so that he'll fuck you really animalistic and hard.

🐀By the time hes done with you youre exhausted but hes all fired up. He leaves you in bed, tells you to wait there until he comes back, maybe even ties you to the bed frame if he feels its safe to leave you alone like that.

🐀He goes out to hunt your ex man down, he's feeling riled up and in the mood for a fight. Can't believe the cunt had the audacity to flirt with you... He gets the lads involved, Finn and Michael, and they find the lad back at the bar.

🐀Hes drunk now, hes already forgotten who Isaiah is and when he reminds him the stupid boy laughs and shakes his head.

🐀"Nah, no way y/n would go with you mate you must be having a laugh..."

🐀"Oh yeah, whys that mate?"

🐀"Fuckin look at you eh, ugly fuckin bastard..."

🐀But thats as far as he gets before Isaiah starts kicking into him, one boot to the groin has the lad keeled over and choking, but the boys arent going to show him any mercy. They kick and punch and beat him right against the bar.

🐀The other punters clear out, knowing how this fights going to end... They know these Peaky Boys won't stand for being insulted in their own bar...

🐀Doesn't kill him, shoots him in the cock.

🐀"Doin you a favour really, world doesnt need an ugly bastard like you brining babies into the world... Doing the whole world a favour stopping you fuckin..."

🐀When he returns to you hes fired up and high with the adrenaline that hes ready to go with you again, but this time hes more intense about it, not so rough and fast. This time hes going to take the time to make you cum for him over and over again.

🐀Makes you watch yourself in the mirror as he fingers you and makes you cum, tells you to keep your eyes open.

🐀"See love, see how fuckin good i am to you, see how much you fuckin love the things i do for you... No one else is gonna treat you this good, fuckin no one..."

🐀Won't let you rest until youre totally out of your mind with pleasure barely able to get your words out when he asks you who loves you, who makes you feel good, who do you belong to?

🐀Will buy you an expensive locket with his initials engraved into it that he tells you to wear all the time. Just in case you forget who you belong to again.

Michael

☘️When John Lennon wrote jealous guy... Just kidding but no really...

☘️Michaels so jealous, he actually tries to pretend that you were a virgin before you met him, that youd never been with another man before him

☘️So when your ex turns up and starts ruining his little fantasy, his presence in town remindkng Michael every day that you had a life before you met him... He can't stand it.

☘️When he realises your ex is in town he basically keeps you shut up inside. He doesnt want that man to see you or get the opportunity to speak to you

☘️This pisses you off, naturally, so you sneak out, youre being reckless, and you know what could happen if you get caught, but you do it anyway just to show Michael he cant control you...

☘️You go to visit your ex, you do it publicly so that people can see, so that peaky men see you go into your ex's house.

☘️You don't do anything with him, you just make a 10 minute call, long enough for tea and a quick catch up or long enough for a quick catch up

☘️ When you leave you go out to a bar which is where Michael eventually finds you. Youre in trouble but not as much trouble as your ex.

☘️Before Michael came to pick you up from the bar he made a quick house call. He didnt make it a long one. Long enough to shoot a man dead or scare him out of town...

☘️He didnt want to labour over it, better to just get rid of the bastard and then return to you.

☘️Hes takes you straight home but your telling off begins the second he gets you in the back of that cab.

☘️"The fuck do you think youre playing at love?" hes going to teach you a thing or two about defying your man.

☘️When he gets you home he makes you strip, makes you lie over his lap, arse in the air so that he can spank you until youve tears in your eyes and youre saying sorry over and over again.

☘️But after that hes going to lift you up, take you up to bed, be ever so tender and sweet to you...

☘️ "I know its sore sweetheart, Im sorry love but i had to teach you a lesson eh? You disobey me, you have to learn don't you, you know the rules..." "But its alright now love, Michael forgives you eh, know youre my sweet girl, wouldnt dream of going off with other men..."

☘️ "Im yours and only yours Michael," "Im your girl no one elses, im sorry, we never did nothing..." "I know sweetheart, know youre a good girl really..."

☘️ Hes going to be gentle with you, touching you, kissing you, smothering you with love, he'll tease you and edge you for the rest of the evening, showing you hes the best man for you, that only he knows how to bring you this much pleasure.

☘️ If you want to cum hes going to make you recite your wedding vows to him, no mistakes... Thats the only way he'll let you cum.

☘️Alternatively...

☘️ Say your ex was a lying, cheating, abusive cunt who had abandoned you, hurt you, left you up shit creek without a paddle and fucked you over...

☘️ Then Michaels a bitter man with a very strong moral code (one he applies liberally to say the least)

☘️ Hes been waiting for the day your ex dares show his face around town again...

☘️ He takes Isaiah, Bonnie and Finn with him, tells them all the ways in which your ex was a good for nothing, not worth the air he breathes, piece of shit, about all the horrid things he did to you, and they are all in agreement that he needs justice served to him.

☘️ Michael does all the talking when they find him, hes been drinking in a bar, flirting or harrassing local women. Some of them women that the lads are friends with...

☘️ Isaiah and Finn grab the lad by the arms, drag him out the bar into the street, Bonnie is behind him, pressing his knife to the lads throat, and Michael does all the talking.

☘️ "Heard you used to date my lovely y/n... Heard you used to hurt her, is that right? Don't bother lying to me lad, y/n's a good girl aint she, shes honest... Wouldnt lie about somet like that..."

☘️ "Make you feel like a man does it? Hittin women? Make you feel good?"

☘️ He'll hurt him, he'll really lay into him, show him no mercy. The boys will make him beg for his life but in the end Bonnie will slit his throat all the same and then they'll leave him for dead.

☘️"Evil bastards like that don't deserve to walk the same earth as girls like y/n"

☘️ He'll be so loving and gentle to you when he comes home. He won't tell you what hes done because he wont want to upset you, and he knows it will upset you.

☘️But he'll sleep easier knowing the bastard will never get to hurt his girl ever again

☘️And youll enjoy all the pretty new dresses and jewelery thst Michael will buy you because he feels lucky to have you and wants to treasure you.

#tommy shelby x reader #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagines #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #Alfie solomons x reader