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geeky-politics-46 · 6 months

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 9

Facesitting with Arthur Shelby

"A New Addiction"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: After a bad day Arthur finds a new favorite way to relieve his stress.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - oral sex, light dirty talk, swearing, pet names, hair pulling, reference to vaginal sex

You could tell Arthur had had a bad day when he came over to the couch and practically crawled into your lap. Nuzzling his face into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. Sighing as you started rubbing his back and pressing kisses onto the top of his head. You knew when he was this clingy he didn't really want to talk. Instead, he just wanted affection.

It didn't take long for him to start unbuttoning the top of your blouse and placing kisses between your breasts. Occasionally leaving a soft nip against your skin. You could feel him smile against your skin when his mustache would make you giggle every now and then.

"Come on, Arthur. Let's go to bed. I can tell you've had a long day. We can have dinner later."

"Well I am hungry, love, but not for food."

You rolled your eyes as you took him by the hand and led him to your shared bedroom. Closing and locking the door behind you since his brothers rarely bothered knocking and preferred to just let themselves in. By the time you turned around, Arthur had already undone his shirt and was quickly moving onto his pants.

"I have an idea, love. I want you to sit on my fuckin' face, yeah? I don't want to see anything but you above me grinding that pretty little pussy on my face."

You blushed at the suggestion even as Arthur came over to start undressing you too now that he was down to his boxers. A smile now back on his face and a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Tossing your clothes to the side until he had you completely naked.

This time leading you over to the bed. Plopping down in the middle of the bed and patting the spots on either side of his head. Signaling where he wanted you before holding one hand out to help you up on the bed and moving one hand to palm his cock through his boxers. The tent there growing larger by the minute, even though you hadn't even touched him yet.

You took his hand and started crawling onto the bed. Kneeling up by Arthur's shoulders but not yet moving to straddle his face as he asked. Still unsure whether you should do what he had requested. You didn't want to accidentally suffocate him.

"I'm not sure, Arthur. What if I hurt you? What if you can't breathe?"

He chuckled and started pulling you to sit on his chest. One leg thrown over each side of his body.

"You really think you can hurt me, darlin'? Besides, if I die because you suffocate me with your cunt I'll die a happy man. Now, be a good girl and sit on my fuckin' face!"

With that, he grabbed a hold of both of your ass cheeks and forcibly pulled you up over his mouth. Not giving you any time to react before latching his mouth over your sex and began licking up over your slit. A moan pulled from your chest as you reached to grab ahold of the metal rods of the bedframe and the wall to stabilize yourself.

"Oh my God, Arthur!"

He pulled one hand back and slapped your ass making you buck against his face. A groan erupting from his lips at the feeling of you grinding on him and sending vibrations through your cunt. His mustache tickling your clit perfectly as he devoured you like a man starved.

His tongue probing inside of you, then moving back to licking you up and down. All the while managing to never leave your clit unattended. It felt so incredible that you couldn't help but rut yourself against him.

He happily let you fuck yourself on his tongue. Stroking all the right spots on your inner walls. You had no idea Arthur's tongue was so long until now. Your moans easily carried through the thin walls of the house. If Tommy or John dared to enter the front door they would surely hear. Hell you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors could hear you.

You gazed down at your lover and really couldn't care less if they did hear. Bringing one hand down to grab a hold of his light brown, almost ginger hair. Leaving your other hand gripping the bars of the metal bed frame for balance. Although with Arthur's hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh so hard they were sure to leave bruises, you knew he wouldn't let you fall.

The more you rode his face the more he groaned in delight into your dripping cunt. Eventually you felt him start thrusting his hips up against nothing. The thought that Arthur was getting so much pleasure from just eating your pussy making a fire start to burn in your low belly.

When he could feel your cunt start to flutter and tense around his tongue Arthur couldn't help but whisper encouragements. You couldn't decide if he was talking to you or your pussy, but either way his words were steadily pushing you towards your climax.

"That's it, pretty girl. Know that feels good. Feel you getting ready to cream on my tongue. That's my good girl. Give me all you got, lovey. I want it all."

He stopped talking only to suck your clit into his mouth and start stroking it with his tongue. Your whole body was on fire as your hips started to stutter and all your muscles clenched.

"Oh God, Arthur, I'm gonna cum! Don't fucking stop!"

It seemed impossible, but Arthur somehow started sucking harder and licking faster. The feeling of his blue eyes watching you making your body tingle. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and your brow coated with a light sheen of sweat. A guttural groan and a high-pitched whine verging on a scream came from you as you had the strongest orgasm you had ever had.

Your whole body spasming as your cum flooded Arthur's mouth. In that moment he decided you were far better and way more addictive than any whiskey or snow could ever be. He would throw every other substance away for the taste of you on his tongue and the image of your naked body above him shaking and sobbing from pleasure.

You leaned to the side, moving to dismount Arthur's chest. Still in a daze from the mind melting orgasm he had just given you, assuming that he would want either a fuck or blow job in return. You would happily give him either, or even both after how hard he made you cum.

Jarred from your train of thought when you felt Arthur's strong hands flex to keep you not only perched on top of him but moving back up towards his face. A wide smile on his lips, still shining from your release, as he caught your quizzical gaze.

"Didn't think I was done, did ya, love? I think I found my new favorite way to relieve stress, and I'm still feeling a bit tense."

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thepeakygurl · 2 years

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Hiiiii, can I please req a fluff fic where tommy’s s/o is pinching his cheeks in a very cute manner skskskka( I read that idea in my tl and I can’t stop thinking abt it lmao) The context behind it is up to you:))It’s okay if you won’t do it but can I just say your fics are FUCKING AMAZING!!!!! Reading your works really made me feel 🥰🥰 I hope you are safe and well<33

Intoxicated Love

This come a year and a half later, but here it is! I really hope you enjoy it despite being very short and concise🥺

Ps: Safe to say my love for Tommy Shelby has never left my heart, soul and brain

Requested Scenario by anon

Thomas Shelby x you/reader

Prompt: Y/N comes home drunk and start to playfully pinch Tommy’s cheeks

Fluff

Tommy never truly thought of home as four walls and a roof over your head, his home was where his family belonged, and most recently wherever you were.

He sat down on the couch after giving his jacket to the governess, he lit up a cigarette and let it burn slowly within his lips. He let a small breath out of his mouth, while he looked his blue eyes at the ceiling wondering where you might be, usually the governess would be home already and it would be you welcoming him at the door.

And just as the thought of leaving the house and come looking for you invaded his mind, he heard the governess welcoming you back home, as well as your harmonious laugh, sounding now a little higher than usual. Tommy faced now the door waiting for you arrival “You’re home sweetheart!” you squealed at him, quickly taking your gloves off and almost falling on the ground in the process.

“Sweetheart?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow at you and how clumsily drunk you were, he turn off his cigarette reaching then towards you, grabbed your arm and made you sit on his lap “How much did you drink, mh?” he asked in a whisper while stroking your head and running his fingers through your hair.

You lost your self in his gaze for a split of a second, you imperceptibly shook your head and said “John challenged him, it isn’t about how much I drank, it is about proving a point!”

Despite not making much of a sense in that moment, Tommy smiled and nodded at you “Why were you with John?” was his only question now.

“Are you jealous Mr Shelby?” you asked showing him one of your best smile and he caved him, reciprocating it.

He was not jealous, well he was, but not of John. Though that cheeky smile you were giving him made him flustered and he was not about to turn your confident self down “So what if I am love?” he whispered getting slightly closer at your, shamingly looking at those lips of yours.

You felt your heart dropping straight to your stomach and intoxicated as you were you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, reaching to his cheeks and started to jokingly pinching them, soft and rosy “You are so sweet!”

Tommy closed his eyes, certainly this was not where he saw the situation moving forward to, but he slowly reached to your hands and moved them away from his cheeks, kissing both of them “I think it’s time for you to go to sleep love”

“Will you sleep with me?” you bluntly asked.

“Where else would I sleep Y/N?”

“Can I play with your cheeks?”

At that request, Tommy looked annoyed, but quickly looked away and said “Only if I can play with yours”

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby scenario #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby scenario #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby

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asmutwriter · 2 months

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The Gangsta's Wife (Part 6)

DESCRIPTION: You complete your first business ordeal as a Shelby family member. Your husband, Thomas, wants to thank you for your effort.

A/N: Was this section of smut overly necessary or was I just horny when I wrote this part? I guess we'll never know

WORD COUNT: 2510

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, blackmail, mild sexism, threat, talk of murder, drinking, sex whilst drunk (able to consent), smut, rough sex, no foreplay, mild breeding kink, pet names (love/sir), creampie, overstimluation, mild dacryphilia

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

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

Not been proof read - part may change slightly once I've proof read it

The clock chimes 8pm. You take in a breath. You and Tommy had parted ways since you discussion earlier this afternoon. Going about your business during the day. Due to him unable to find a different plan you were going with your choice. So here you were. Standing outside the garrison. You take a deep breath. Going inside you see a man sitting at a table. Looking smug as he drinks a pint.

You go over, putting on a false smile as you sit opposite him. His eyes meet yours before going over your body. His tongue darts out slightly as he smiles. You place your hands on the table, one hand over the other as you keep eye contact with him as hes finished checking you out. "Harry Thompson correct?" he nods "I have some business Id like to discuss with you" he chuckles slightly

"And you are?" he says in an almost mocking tone

"Sorry, where are my manners?" you hold your hand out for him to shake "Mrs Florence Shelby" he laughs again. Taking your hand and shaking it. You place yours back ontop of the one still resting on the table.

"So which one are you married to?"

"Does that matter?"

"I want to know which one sent you to do their dirty work"

"They didnt send me. They dont even know Im here" he nods, leaning back in his chair.

"WHat is it youd like to discuss then?"

"Id like to discuss your children. You have 5 I believe" he laughs

"I have 3. But carry on" a smirk on his face as you keep his eye contact

"Youre right. You and your wife have three children. Alfie, Anna, and William. But if you include the two children you had with your mistress then you have five"

"I dont know what you're talking about"

"So you dont know who Robert and Michael are? Or Rose, your mistress who had your children?" his smile drops. Eyes on yours as you continue talking "they live in London correct?" he goes to stand up

"My business isnt with you its with them" he stands

"SIt down Mr Thompson"

"I dont have to speak to one of their whores. Because that is exactly what you are"

"I said sit down Mr Thompson. Or I start screaming" he looks at you as you keep eye contact with him "how do you think thatll go for you? Given the current location we are in" he keeps looking at you, staying standing. You lean marginely closer to him, hushing your voice slightly so only he can hear you. "You may think you have this city wrapped around your finger but if any of the men in this building think you laid a hand on Thomas SHelby's wife then you better start digging your own grave" he takes in a deep breath. Sitting back down again.

"What is it you want?" he asks, a slight anger in his voice.

"I want you and your men to leave. The same conditionings my husband wants in fact" he grits his teeth

"And if I refuse?"

"One of my men goes and has a little visit to your family. The one up in London. The one we both know you care the most about. And slaughters them. One by one" his eyes dart around the room. You can sense the amount of fear going through his body. "If you leave then both of your families will remain safe. I wont tell my husband about Rose and your sons". You put your hand out for him to shake "do we have a deal?". He looks at you. Your calm behaviour being very different to the anxiety you feel welling up in your body. He reaches a hand out. Taking yours and shaking on the deal.

"Good decision. I'll give you until midnight tonight to leave this place. If you arent out by then... well, you know what'll happen" you smile at him. Standing up "Have a good night Mr Thompson" you leave the pub. Getting back home you open the front door. Taking your coat off and hanging it up. You can hear your husbands voice in the building next door. Given your previous experience of evesdropping you decide that it wouldnt be the best idea. Instead you retire early to bed. taking out a book you start reading.

You place the book down on your bedside table. Unsure of how late it is. But feeling dreadfully thirsty. You try settling down to sleep. Dehydration catching up to you. You mumble slightly as you get out of bed. Heading downstairs. Grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen to head back upstairs. You notice the living room light on.

Poking your head around the corner you see your husband. Whisley in hand as he watches the liquid swirl in the glass. "Mr Shelby?". His eyes look at you. The blue standing out among the darknessof the room. You step inside slightly. Seeing his jacket and waistcoat discarded on the sofa. "It appears to have gone well with Mr Thompson". He nods. Sipping his drink. Placing it onto the counter top he stands up.

"Go back to bed Flo. I'll be up shortly". His voice quiet. You nod. Turning back around. Going up the stairs. Reaching the top step you hear the living room door shut. Looking down the stairs to see darkness. You look downwards. Letting out a soft sigh as you head to your bedroom. Shutting the door and getting under the warm covers.

You wake up the next morning. Letting out a soft groan as you sit up. Hearing happy voices downstairs. Unsual given the normal tone of voice your new family has. AWare of the cold spot next to you. Not unsuaul. He sometimes stayed downstairs or in his own room next door.

You get out of bed. Wrapping your dressing gown round your body as you hear multiple voices. Heading into the living room you see your husband and his brothers. The three of them drinking and smoking. You fold your arms over your torso. Aware that you are still in your night clothes.

Arthur is the first to spot you. Coming over to you. The smell of alcohol on his breath. "Tommy told us what you did. That you helped Harry to fuck off" you chuckle slightly

"I suppose you could put it like that" you smile as he hugs you. Your arms going to your sides. Hanging awkwardly. Moving away he holds up his drink

"To Mrs SHelby"

"Ayy Mrs Shelby" you hear John call out. Your smile growing slightly as they drink their drinks in unison.

"Alright you two. Go on. We've still got stuff we need to be doing over in the shop. I'll be over in a bit". They both down their drinks. Heading past you. Them both smiling widely at you as you hear the front door go. Tommy titls his head as he looks at you. Then heading to his bottle of whiskey he grabs out a second glass. Topping up his one before puring you one. Walking over to you he hands you the fresh glass.

"I take it the plan worked?"

"Harry Thompson left late last night. He was seen getting into a car and driving off with his belongings". He clinks his glass to yours "Well done to your first official business ordeal. You're offically a Shelby" Taking a sip his drink as a soft smile appears on your face. His eyes watching yours as you do the same with the glass. Him standing about a foot away from you. You get the scent of whiskey and smoke from him.

"Thats excellent new Mr Shelvy. I'm glad the plan worked"

"As am I"

"What time did you find out he'd gone?"

"Early this morning. John and Arthur came round to tell me. We decided to celebrate the victory and have been celebrating since" you chuckle slightly. His mind only seeming to have noticed your nigthdress. He glances downwards. Trailing his eyes over the fabric before bringing them back up to meet yours.

He downs the rest of his drink. Placing his glass on the small coffee table. Standing straight again he closes the gap between you. His hand coming up to cup your face. Moving his thumb over your lips. Your cheeks going a soft shade of crimson at the affection. Your eyes still fixed on his. "Drink. Got to celebrate this victory, ey?". You smile, turning your head to the side slightly as you down your drink. He takes the opportunity to start kissing yur neck.

You let out a satisified sigh. Feeling his hand take the now empty galss from you. Hearing the soft clink as he places it onto the coffee table. His hands going to your hips as he holds you close to him. Feeling him start to grow in his trousers. The thin fabric of your night dress leaving very little to the imagination for the both of you. He unties the loose knot in the front of your gown. Pulling it off your shoulders and discarding it onot the floor. One hand snaking your waist. The other coming up and gripping at your breasts. His lips attacking your neck as he begins to massage your boob.

Your hands come up. Gently going to the side of his head. Reminvg it from your neck. Making him look at you "Mr Shelby... we cant here... my sisters..."

"You are my wife. And this is my house. Where else do ypu propose I can fuck you, ey?"

"But what if they see us...?" you whisper "Or even hear us for that matter?"

"I'll be quick" his hands moves from your chest where it was happy resting. Resting it over your mouth as he lowers his voice "All you have to do is not make a sound..." a soft whimper escapes your lips. Causing him to grin. His hands both drop to your hips. Forcibly turning you around. Pushing you to armchair in the room. Your hands going to the back of it as a means to not fall over. Your knees hit the plush seat. He rakes up your dress. Holding it up with one hand as he unbuttons his trousers. You hear him spit, seconds later feeling him rubbing his palm over your core. You whine out. Knees going up onto the chair as you push your hips back into his touch.

A few seconds later and he plunges himself into you. The lack of foreplay making the strecth almost unbearable. Causing you to cry out. The hand holding your night dress up moves. Snaking around your waist as he pulls you flush against him. Holding you up as the other hand covers your mouth. He turns your head to look at him. His dull nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks as you feel tears coming to your eyes. He comfortingly sushes you. Giving you a little bit of time to adjust before he starts to move his hips into yours. The pain going through your body quickly turning to pleasure as you cunt quickly adjusts to him. Your hands come up to his arm wrapped around you. Gripping at him.

Holding onto him for dear life as he continuesly plunges his cock in and out of your needy hole. You shut your eyes. Feeling the tears from your eyes fall down your cheeks. But you dont care. Your so focused on him filling you out that you dont care about the tears staining your cheeks. The dull pain between your thighs. The truly vulnerable and submissive state hes put you in. You only care about him. About how good he feels inside of you. And about how close hes managed to get you to your high.

"SUch a good girl for me. Letting me fuck this pretty cunt of yours. Fill you up with my seed. You deserve it, love. Being such a good wife. You deserve to be filled with my cum".

You subconsciously tighten around his words. Although you cant see it, you can feel the grin adorning his face. The hand from your mouth moves. Causing you to open your eyes. Being met with his dark, borderline sadistic gaze. A soft whine leaves your lips as you try and remain quiet. His thrusts slowing slightly.

Your hands come up. Moving from his arms to hold at his face as a feeble 'please' escapes your lips. A few more tears fall down your cheeks. His thumb quickly wiping them away, resting it gently onto your shoulder as he watches your eyes. Fresh tears quickly appearing as you can feel your high slowly drifiting away from you. His thrusts slow but continueus.

"Please sir...". he brushes the hair from your face. Tucking it behind your ear before placing his hand back over your mouth. Your arm goes around his neck as he continues to hold you flush against his body. Your other hand going to his wrist.

He starts thrusting at a godly speed. You practcily scream. Digging your nails into the flesh f his wrist. He kisses your shoulder. Grunting as he pushes himself deep inside of you. Feeling his cum hit your walls. You feel your hips start to spasm. Your own orgasm hitting you. Helping to milk him dry as he mutters a soft 'fuck' against you. His blunt nails digging into the softness of your cheeks as you tighten around him. You shut your eyes. A few more tears trailing down your face as you come down from your high.

His hand going from your mouth to gently brush the liquid away. You reac your hands out. STeadying yourself on the chair again as he pulls out of you. Watching his seed fall from your folds. He collects the jucies onto his tip. Pushing them back into your hole. You whine out in discomfort. Overstimulation and the dull ache being to much for you. But he thrusts a few more times before pulling out fully. Bringing your nightdress down to cover your intimate part before he puts himself back int his trousers.

Your breathing becomes steady again. Resting down into the chair. Feeling his hand brush your hair out of your face. You open your eyes. A tired smile on your face as you meet his blue eyes. "I have some work to do" you nod. Turning so you can stand up. Him steadying you as you wobble slightly. A slight smirk on his face. Knowing that hes the reason for your unsteadyiness. But your to cock drunk to care at this moment in time.

"I'll see you later then Mr Shelby" he smiles. Nodding as he lets your arm go. Going to the front door as yu hear it bang behind him. Quickly followed by the sound of his voice next door. You give yourself a few more minutes before getting up off the chair. Going upstairs to get dressed.

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@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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

Summary: Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

#Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #Arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby x ofc #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #Arthur shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby #Arthur Shelby x Heaven #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby fluff

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

Text

The Head of the Snake ~ Tommy Shelby x wife (Angst)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Tommy returns exhausted from a BUF event in the middle of the night, and all he wants is peace. But he finds anything but

Note: Written for @raincoffeeandfandoms and her 2.5k Celebration. For it I chose night and even tried to put a spin on your "Black and White" theme. I hope you enjoy!

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 1577 words

As soon as he heard the front door slam shut behind him, Tommy pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.

He was home.

It was over, at least for tonight. By now all the downstairs fires had died down, and only the lamps on the stairs remained.

From the corridor came Frances.

“Didn’t I tell you there was no need to wait up?”, he asked, his voice uncommonly soft.

Even though she had gone against his instructions, Thomas Shelby was beyond glad to see a familiar, friendly face. “It was no trouble, Mr. Shelby.”, she assured him as she slipped the thick tailored coat from his tense shoulders.

Every inch of his body hurt, and that was saying nothing of his mind, and on nights like these the stairs seemed endless.

“Mrs Shelby is still up as well, Sir.”, she told him, just as he reached the halfway point, under the portrait of Monaghan Boy.

Once upon a time, when the world was both smaller and simpler, that horse and it’s success had meant everything to him, and the money they had made with him, his victories, and finally losses, had paved the way for the rise of Shelby Company ltd.

And the road that led him here. Right here. To tonight.

Often, he wondered where he had gone wrong. If there had been a split in the road he had not taken, a corner he hadn’t turned, a bridge he hadn’t considered crossing, or if he had crossed one too many, leapt too high, ventured to far.

Monaghan Boy did not have the answer, and he wouldn’t dare ask Frances the question and so he rallied himself once more and leaned his weight on the banister on the way up.

Never had he felt so old before.

When he looked down the corridor he could see the doors to the children’s rooms already shut.

Of course. They were fast asleep, as they should, and although he felt a burning tightness in his chest that only the sight of his children could ease.

He needed a reminder what he was doing all this for, not just against, needed to hear the soft sounds of their breaths, feel the smoothness of their cheeks, and the softness of their hair.

But it was too late for that, he would only ever wake them.

So he turned the other way and approached his bedchamber.

To his surprise, Frances hadn’t been wrong. His wife was still up, still waiting for him.

She was sitting on the windowsill, in her white nightgown and robe that seemed ever paler compared to the pitch black night sky. The only speck of colour, it seemed, was the glow of her cigarette.

“I’m home.”, he announced, as if she could somehow have missed the arrival of his car on the driveway below, or the sound of the door opening and closing in his wake.

The only response was the crackling of the cigarette’s paper being burned with another inhale.

So it would be another one of these nights, Tommy thought bitterly, but he didn’t have the fight in him and so he only began to undress as quickly and efficiently as he could, placing first his jacket, then his vest over the back of his dressing table chair.

Every single movement, no matter how small, reminded him of the exhaustion he felt body and soul, the kind no sleep - only peace could solve.

He tore his cufflinks out of his shirt, their clattering on the shiny wood making his head throb so much he barely missed the sound of her voice.

“We didn’t wait up for you tonight.”

Her voice was soft, calm, without any trace of emotion, only the slight rasp due to the cigarette and the lat ehour.

“Well I didn’t ask you to.”

Tommy knew he would be late. He was nearly always late.

“We wouldn’t have done if you did.”, she replied, just as cooly as she had spoken previously.

Now that caught his attention.

His arm resting on the back of the chair, he turned to look at her, seeing only a quarter of her face in the reflection of the window.

It was as if she couldn’t even look at him, as if merely meeting his gaze would stain her.

“So you really did it?”, she asked, tapping the ash away.

“By ‘it’ you mean following the plan I agreed on with Churchill, then yes. I did it.”, he spat.

He never should have told her, never would have told her if he hadn’t hoped that doing so would make her help him.

He never expected her to turn her back on him and his cause, not after everything, not after Polly, but she had made no attempt to hide it then, nor did it now as she scoffed and shook her head.

“I remember everyone telling me again and again about how much you are like a horse, but Tommy, you really are a horse.”

“What?”, he asked.

“You are a horse.”

With that, she snuffed out her cigarette and got up, her open robe flapping behind her from the swiftness of her movement as she grabbed his face between two hands.

“Like a racehorse with the blinkers on only you put them there yourself.”

Her fingers found his temples, limiting his eyesight to replicate the blinkers.

“Racing ahead, blindly, stupidly, unable to see the truth of the realisation.”

He moved his head to rid himself of her touch, so warm, so smooth, but right now he could barely stomach her presence.

“They put the blinkers on so that the horse doesn’t startle and injure itself and others.”, he scoffed, turning his back on her.

“And why does the horse startle, Tommy?”, she asked calmly. “Because it’s not made to race. It’s forced to.”

He glared at her, his lips parted and his icy blue eyes piercing.

“No one forces me to do anything.”, he snarled.

It was too late and he was too tired for this. He just wanted to close his eyes and not think, not hear, not sense.

“So you’re doing this because you want to?”

Tommy knows she is asking about Mosley. About the BUF and about the event he had attended tonight, where he had introduced the man.

“I do it because it allows me to get close to him, to gain his trust and gather insight so Churchill can bring them down.”

She snorted once more and shook her head.

“Take your fuckling blinkers off, Tommy.”, she snarled. “Take them off and see what you are doing.”

“The right fucking thing for once!”, he spat right back at her.

“No, you’re not!”

Her voice was dangerously low, and she showed not the slightest sign of folding as Tommy stepped closer to her.

Of all people, he needed her to understand, to believe him. How many times had he tried to explain it to her and every single time she had refused to believe him.

Why was she being so fucking difficult?

“Love-”, he tried once more.

“No!”, she commanded. “No, Tommy. Think, for once about what you’re doing. Not what you or Churchill or anyone are planning to do, or going to do, but what you are actually doing.”

His law muscles tightened as he stared at her, this woman who had loved him fiercely and consistently, even when he had proved himself unworthy of it time and time again.

She had been with him, had supported and shielded him in her own way, protected him from his family, from his nightmares and on some nights even from himself.

And when he looked at her with this fierce determination in her eyes, a sharp terrifying fear took hold inside him, but he had no time to either reassure himself or ask, as she continued - relentless, just like the rest of them.

“You are out there, on a stage with him, with them. You just gave him something money can’t buy. Legitimacy in this city, the city you call yours.”

“It’s all part of-”

“The plan. I know.”, she said, waving it off before he could even begin. “But what if you do manage to bring down Mosley, or even all of the BUF? They will still have thousands of member and sympathisers, and thousands in this city alone, thanks to you.”

Tommy felt his blood run cold.

“Little boys are running around all over Birmingham, playing Peaky Blinders with caps and knives just like their big hero Tommy Shelby. And now their big hero Tommy Shelby is standing shoulder to shoulder with fascists that tell people to throw rocks at their neighbours for all sorts of reasons. Tell me, Tommy, what will the little boys do? What will their fathers do who are employed by the thousands in your factories and docs and companies?”

He inhaled sharply, but that wasn’t deemed a suitable reply and so she shook her head and turned.

“I’m sleeping in the nursery tonight.”, she said, reaching for her blanket.

That made rage bubble up inside him. She was his wife, she was supposed to support him, not stab him in the back.

“You kill a snake by cutting off it’s head!”, he told her harshly just as she was at the door.

She turned slowly, glaring at him.

“And what good will that do if its venom is already spread?"

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @trixie23

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore @dandelionprints

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Monsters under the Bed

Summary: when John tells you a ghost story at night, you’re to scared to sleep on your own, so you run to your favourite brother

A/N: Once upon a time, I showed my youngest sister this interview with Charles Manson and she refused to sleep alone for a few nights. Subtly, she reminded me of this again yesterday, which gave me the idea for this fluffy little fic ☺️

Words: 2056

*****

You were far too old to be scared of monsters.

John was the craziest out of all the siblings and everyone knew if. He could imitate madness perfectly, maybe even a little too perfectly. So, when he’d suggested you’d exchange ghost stories, you really should’ve known better.

Sitting up on your bed in the smallest bedroom in Watery Lane, you’d told the first story. And then it was John’s turn, and then yours again. And with a rivalry as old as time, you each tried to trump the other. You told him of the old legends of witches and monsters and he, in turn, told you the most gruesome stories he could tell. You’d spend the better part of the evening sitting together, giggling like children, until he’d told his final story.

“Are you scared?” he’d asked with a smug face. But you had quickly shaken your head and had told him to piss off. But John had smirked again, “You look scared.”

When he’d left your room, you’d quickly buried your head beneath the blankets and tried to get the images out of your head. Because as soon as he started telling you about the mass murderer that used to roam Small Heath, who used to cut off people’s noses and ears and skin them alive, your mind had painted a very vivid image of it all. And in the dark, it haunted you.

You shook your head angrily and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see the monster from John’s stories approaching you. “I’m thirteen!” you told yourself angrily, “I’m too old to be scared of monsters!”

*****

The next morning, you slouched down at the table during breakfast for lack of sleep.

“What’s with you?” Ada asked, not quite full of compassion.

“Nothing,” you grumbled in reply.

Your sister raised an eyebrow and continued eating, obviously not believing you.

John walked into the kitchen, cheerful and very well rested. He called out a “Morning!” but you just glared daggers at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Ada looked from John to you and explained to him, “Y/N didn’t sleep very well.”

“I’m fine,” you slouched down some more.

But a grin had started to form on John’s face, “Nightmares about scary big men, coming to cut you up in your sleep, was it?”

“John!” Ada called out, reprimanding him.

“What?” he shrugged, “I just told her a bedtime story, about this famous...”

But again, your sister came to your aid and cut him off, “Leave her alone.”

“Not my fault she’s a baby...” John chuckled, as he walked away.

“What’s this?” a low voice demanded from behind you, which made you jump into the air with fright, “John? Did you do this?”

“It’s nothing!” you called out in exasperation. The last thing you wanted was to attract any attention to yourself or talk about the topic some more. “I just didn’t sleep very well, that is all.”

“John’s been telling her bedtime stories again,” Ada told Tommy.

Tommy sighed and shot his brother a warning look. Then he sat down next to you with a worried expression on his face. “Don’t listen to John. It’s probably all lies, eh sweetheart?”

“I’m not a baby.” It came out a lot more pathetic than you had intended.

Ada commented sarcastically, “You are the baby of the family.” And you knew she was right, much to your own annoyance.

“What did John say to you?” Tommy asked, “Go on. Tell your big brother.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sulked, “It was nothing anyways. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“If it was nothing, why can’t you talk about it?” Once again, Ada was a little too direct for your liking and you rolled your eyes. Tommy glared at her, noticing it too. Soon after Ada left, mumbling, “Fine. Talk to the big brother who does understand.”

So you were left with Tommy in the kitchen, but there was no way you were willing to admit John actually had managed to scare you. Tommy didn’t press the subject, he hardly ever did thank God. And when you told him you had to go to school, he simply said, “You’ll know where to find me when you need me, alright?”

You managed a smile and nodded. Tommy planted a kiss on your forehead and for a moment, you seriously considered telling him everything.

But you didn’t.

*****

That night, you were laying in bed, determined to get yourself over your silly fears. Angrily, you pulled up the blankets and closed your eyes. But the second you did, some unknown man, covered in blood, appeared before your closed lids and your eyes shot open again.

In the dark, you huffed and turned around to face the wall. But then you thought: what if he’s behind me and I can’t see him coming. Suddenly petrified, you were now convinced he was in the room with you. You were practically shaking with fear, but when you did manage to turn around, the room was empty.

“See,” you whispered to yourself, “no one’s here. Get over it!”

But still, you went over to Tommy’s room.

It was the middle of the night, of that much Tommy was certain. He was still half asleep, but could heard the tell-tale signs of someone sneaking into his room, quietly. Carefully, he opened one eye.

Before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness, he knew who it would be. And there it was: the bed dipped slightly and someone nimbly climbed over him. Then he felt gentle tug on his blankets and the warm body of his youngest sibling next to him in the bed.

“Good night,” you whispered, still believing your brother was asleep.

“Good morning,” a startlingly low reply came.

“Tommy!” you spun around and faced him, “I thought I was being quiet!” Your brother turned around slowly and replied groggily, “About as quiet as the bombs going off at the Somme.”

“Sorry...”

He adjusted himself a little and you waited for the questions to come, but he didn’t say a word. When you were little, you could often be found in one of your brothers’ beds, though it didn’t occur as often anymore. Polly used to say that the Shelby’s weren’t made for sleeping alone, which was true in many ways, but you’d decided a few years back that you were all grown-up now. Your brothers still saw you as a kid, but at thirteen, you no longer felt like a child. Not really.

“Tommy?” you finally asked, “Do you ever have nightmares?”

He cough a short laugh, but didn’t reply. And at once you realised how stupid your question had been, because everyone knew the men never got over the horrors of France. Everyone knew, but no one understood. “I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly.

Tommy looked at you, “You’re having nightmares?”

You thought of John’s story. And you knew it most likely wasn’t true, but you also knew te atrocities men were capable of. That’s what haunted you most of all: the idea that one person could hurt another like that. But instead you just shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Because of what John told you.” It wasn’t a question and there was no need for an answer either, so he continued, “Whatever it was, I’m already awake now, so you might as well tell me, eh?”

“I’m sorry I woke you...” There was no way you were going to burden Tommy with anther blood-covered image.

“You apologise too much,” Tommy locked eyes with you, feigning strictness, “Sorry is now a forbidden word.”

“Sor-... Okay,” you smiled, quickly correcting yourself.

“Good girl,” he smiled back at you. For a gangster, he could be surprisingly soft when it came to his little sister. And when he saw it wasn’t easy for you to talk, he decided to do it for you, “Do you remember when I told you about the witches?”

“The ones that lived in the walls?” you grinned, remembering it well, “Yeah, I do. I used to think I saw them in the mirrors. Scared me to death.”

Tommy nodded for a few seconds, “I really did scare you with those stories.”

You snuggled up a little closer to him. The room was cold, but his bed was warm and familiar. Then you told him, “Yeah, but I was only a baby back then.”

“Is that it, eh?” he asked pointedly, “Being scared makes you a baby?”

“Well, yeah...” you felt yourself getting embarrassed. Tommy was always the easiest to talk to, but at the same time, you wanted to impress him the most as well.

“Well, let me tell you Y/N, those witches or monsters in the walls? I hear them now too. And they give me nightmares every night.”

A few tears started welling up in your eyes. If only you could undo France, that would be your greatest wish. But you couldn’t.

Normally, Tommy took great care not to mention anything about their time in the trenches to you. But right now, it was like his nightmares spilled over into daytime, like an ink stain that seemed to muddy everything. So, he started reminiscing out loud, “In France, I’ve seen grown men cry and call out for their mothers. I’ve seen them go insane with fear and disillusion, all because of those fucking toffs up on top playing toy soldiers with good men. We all cried, Y/N, we cried our fucking eyes out just before going over the top. You’d be an idiot not to be scared.”

You held your breath as he talked and finally said, “Yeah, but that’s different. I never was in any war...”

Tommy wiped away a tear that’d spilled and carefully said, “There’s no shame in being scared, love.”

“Isn’t there?” you sniffled.

“Nope,” Tommy replied decisively, “and I’m right here, eh?”

“But I am too old to be scared of monsters,” you sighed.

A dark expression flitted over Tommy’s face, “Not when they’re real. You do best to remember that: people, real people, are the scariest monsters of them all.”

“You’re not,” you replied at once, sensing what your favourite brother was thinking.

“Some days, I’m not too sure.”

But you emphasised, “But I am. That’s why I came to you. No one comes to see a monster when they’re scared of monsters, right?”

He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “We don’t deserve you,” he finally said, “and this world we live in, the one we created, is too hard for you.”

“Maybe...” You’d never quite felt at home in Small Heath. In many ways, this world you grew up in was too harsh for you. You were a Shelby and no mistake, but you lacked the cruelty of most people here. But, you weren’t alone: you had your brothers. “I know you’ll protect me.”

“Always,” Tommy confirmed, “Even if it means keeping bloody John away from you.”

You had to laugh at his words, “John’s not so bad.”

“He’s an idiot,” your other brother grumbled, but with some mirth and love in his eyes as well.

Suddenly, you felt tired again, and as you drifted off to sleep, you told Tommy, “I’m glad you’re my brother.”

“So am I, princess,” he confirmed, as he watched over you.

*****

And while you slept, you never noticed John creeping into the room as well. A little anxious, he asked Tommy, “Is she alright?”

“You and your fucking stories. Save them for someone else, eh? Or have you forgotten about France already?”

“I’m sorry, Tom, it was just meant as a joke...”

“Go on,” Tommy urged, remembering when John had been little and scared of monsters as well. Every night, Tommy used to comfort him and they’d developed their own little ritual for it, “Check under the bed.”

John grinned and dipped his head down under the bed. He emerged triumphantly, “All clear, sergeant major.”

“See? Nothing to be scared of.”

John leaned over his brother and looked at you again, “She’s asleep.”

“Let her sleep,” Tommy whispered, “Let her dream of a world without monsters. Without men.”

“But we’ll protect her, right though, Tommy?”

“Yes. We’ll protect each other.”

And for one night only, every Shelby at Watery Lane slept a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

*****

Masterlist

#peaky blinder #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby #shelby sister #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #Shelby sister reader #sister shelby #shelby sis #John Shelby x reader #peaky blinders fluff

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moral-terpitude · 2 years

Text

Fourth Time’s the Charm - Pt. 2

Request - yes! By mybakubaby

pairing | Tommy Shelby x wife!reader

warnings | smut, creampie, unprotected sex, childbirth.

word count | 3,966

Part One

In your nightgown you crept down to Tommy’s office after taking a look at the clock and seeing he wasn’t in bed.

4:30 in the morning and he was slumped in the chair behind at his desk after you had kept him up rather late, thankful that it was warm weather and your children wanted nothing more than to be outside.

All three boys had begged and pleaded earlier in the summer, not long after they had encountered some American Native men at the carnival in May, that they wanted to sleep under a tepee in the grass. When you agreed to sew one for them, you hadn’t thought they’d be out there every night of the summer.

Although, it turned out to be a relief to you. It gave you the privacy for your husband to satiate you every night in bed, because as this baby grew inside you so did your want for him.

Tommy had helped you with the pattern and sizing and retrieving you the fabric, the interior support construction being some of the old fencing pieces from the horse stables that had needed replacing. You had thought they looked fine, but it just was an excuse he had thought of to indulge your children in their want while still making them help and work for it.

You had sat and watched them work in the garage that night, after you had sewn the last stitch in the grey canvas duck, as he had helped all three boys wax the fabric to make it waterproof.

Well, Tommy and Adam and Thomas waxed the fabric while James flitted about, regularly abandoning the small corner they had assigned him to work on, proportionate to his age and focus, and coming to rest his head on your ever growing stomach and listen to the baby.

As you smoothed his hair and watched all your boys together he asked, for what wouldn’t be the last time, blue eyes gleaming as you combed the brown tresses out of his sun freckled face resting gently on your round stomach, “You have a baby in your tummy, mommy?”

With your nod he let out an excited squeal before returning to his hands and knees on the broom swept stone floor to the task at hand, right at his father’s side, earning him a ruffle to his hair as Tommy saw his son at his elbow once again.

They had taken their encampment out and set it up as soon as it was ready. In the warm night air you patted barefoot along the back garden as your husband seemed to enjoy digging the holes in your well manicured lawn to hold the posts just as much as your sons loved putting the contraption together.

That had been three months ago, and now you were due to have this baby any minute. Quite literally. Tomorrow you’d be 40 weeks pregnant and Tommy was rushing to finish up the last of his work before the week started. You were exhausted with how tired you were, how constantly aroused you seemed to be, and of your husband treating you like a glass egg that would break if he looked at you wrong.

With a sigh you rested your chin on the back of the leather chair, your hands wandering his chest as you stood behind him in an effort to get him to come to bed.

“Tom,” you whispered, fingers gently tracing his throat and the angle of his jaw as he let out a low mumble, not words but not a snore either.

You knew he was tired. You knew the last nine months had wore on him just as much as it had wore on you. The didn’t mean he wasn’t thrilled about you having another child, he just had barely been able to rest while you both tried to prepare.

The face he had made when the pieces fell in to place, at 8 weeks pregnant according to the doctor when you visited, had thrown you off a tad. As you sat at the dinner table one night picking at your plate, much the way that James did, something clicked for your husband, a sly grin coming to his lips. You hadn’t the faintest idea what the food you were even eating had been, but all you could remember was the garlic. The only thing you could smell. The only thing you could taste, and it was utterly repulsive that night.

“Why don’t you three go play, eh?” Tommy had dismissed the boys from the table as Frances cleared it, spying the remainder of your meal left on the plate.

You’d ended up in his office and he put a record on, him practically dragging you there before uttering another word.

He sat you on the couch excitedly, his hands roaming your sides and hovering at you hips as he balanced on the ball of his feet in front of you.

“How many weeks has it been?”

You shook your head with a shrug, not yet in the same train of thought he was as you just wished for your stomach to settle.

“Since the boys were with Ada,” he explained over the thunking and thudding as your sons played rough and tumble upstairs.

You shook your head as you counted the Mondays that had passed and what all the ladies in the book club had talked about other than the books you were reading.

“Eight or nine I suppose,” his hands roamed to you stomach through the cotton fabric of your dress before he leaned in and kissed you, hands on either side of the back of the couch as he did so.

“With Thomas,” he spoke through a smile as he pressed his forehead to yours, “at about nine weeks you were absolutely disgusted by carrots.”

“Oh!” Your heart leapt as his words clicked, a smile coming to you lips as you brought your fingers to rest against his face, his eyes lighting up, “Tom! That’s why my clothes have gotten tight!”

Your monthly cycle had never been regular, so it hadn’t been a shock to you when you’d missed it.

He nodded, peppering your face with light kisses as his hands worked their way under your dress to squeeze your hips, “Love, it’s okay to say you’ve grown,” one hand rested on your stomach while other fanned against your lower back as he kneeled between your separated legs, before your moment was interrupted by a knock at the door about a phone call he needed to take.

“Tom?” You shook his shoulder and his tired blue eyes finally met yours as he awoke. You had managed to turn his chair enough while he slept that he pulled you into his lap as soon as his eyes met yours.

“Yes, Mrs. Shelby?” He checked the time before looking back to your face, his hands wandering your full stomach and swollen breasts, nipples perked and tender against the cotton, as you straddled his lap, “Can’t imagine what could have the lady of the house up at this hour.”

“Tommy, I can’t sleep,” you whined, nuzzling your face into his neck as he soothed you, rubbing the aching muscles in your back, light from a late summer moon coming through the windows, “I’m ready to pop with this baby. I just need you, because it’s going to be awhile afterwards before we can again.

“I know, love. I’m not complaining, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he kissed your ear when he missed your cheek with the angle he held you at, “you think three times this quick is really okay?”

You nodded vigorously, thinking about the way he had taken you earlier, just before dinner, bent over the same couch in his office that you could usually be found catching a nap on while he worked, as summer air crept in through the partially cracked windows. His hands holding your stomach firmly as you trembled around him, spilling his seed inside you once again, “I wasn’t dilated at all at my appointment Monday, but I think it’s going to be tomorrow, Tommy. I just have a feeling.”

His cheek moved against your hair as a smile came across his lips, taking your hips and pressing your down against him. He was already hard. You had heard his heartbeat pickup when you mentioned tomorrow being the day. The last three times you hadn’t been wrong.

You wiggled your hips against him for a moment, “Help me get up, I’ll make my way back to bed, you check to make sure the boys are still outside.”

His lips found yours before he let you stand, and thankfully the way he kissed you was something you didn’t think you’d ever grow tired of. He was gentle but he fought your tongue with his until he won and rendered you rather breathless.

A couple of soft pats to his chest had him helping you stand on the rug that surrounded his desk, and he didn’t let you go until he was sure you were steady.

You walked barefooted and brisk through the house to peek out your bedroom curtains as your husband wandered barefoot over the stones of the drive and through the grass in his undershirt and slacks, a curling plume of smoke following in his wake, looking like the wild gypsy man he truly was at heart.

He opened the flap and you could see as he observed your boys, that someone was still awake. He spoke a few words before he gave a nod and closed their camp up once again.

As he retreated back in to the house you kept staring out the large window behind the head of your bed.

“Who’s still awake?” You asked as you felt his arms encircle you, his lips finding your neck as you thought about how quickly your little family was growing.

“Thomas,” his hands reached for your stomach, joining his fingers with yours as his thumb fiddled with the other ring he had bought you when your hands swelled while you carried the child he spoke of, a just as beautiful replacement of the one you usually wore, “took the lantern out there to read his Box-Car Children book.”

You chuckled. He had just about wore the book ragged before your husband ordered him a second copy.

You sighed as he held you closer. One late night when you’d been in the kitchen making tea while you were carrying Adam, Tommy had discovered if he held you just right, his rough hands supporting the soft skin and weight of your stomach, that you finally were allowed some relief on your lower back.

You weren’t sure tonight how long you stood there like that, as he hummed and whispered lines from some song called Cheek to Cheek by a man called Fred Astaire, swaying you in the dark, but to feel your muscles get a chance to relax was amazing.

“Now, Mrs. Shelby,” he closed the curtain before turning you to face him, his eyes tracing your face before he continued speaking, his fingers reaching for the edge of your nightgown, “since you seem to think this will be the last time for awhile, is there anything specific you had in mind?”

He kissed your cheek as your ears flushed bright red.

“No, Tommy, just want you all to myself before we have another little munchkin to look after,” he kissed your neck, something between a growl and a moan coming from his throat as he pulled you close.

He undid all the buttons of your white nightgown, letting his hands wander across your stomach he allowed one hand to cup your cheek and brought your lips to his, “You look beautiful.”

The words were a whispered murmur against your skin, quieting the doubts he was now familiar with about how you thought you must look in his eyes, as your hands found their home on the back of his neck, following the collar of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were there.

The torturous part about the whole situation of him making love to you this far along was, barely any position was comfortable but at the same time feeling him inside you was somehow more pleasurable than it was under normal circumstances.

The doctor had told you not to sleep flat on your back because it wasn’t good for the baby, and your stomach got to much in the way of him being above you, so you felt like you were resigned to doing the same three things over and over again. Which wasn’t bad, just, routine.

Currently, the way you had chose almost every morning was using the wooden headboard to support you while he entered you from behind, and tonight your choice was no different.

You’d helped free him of his clothes, gently running your hand along the length of him.

As you kneeled before him on the bed, his hands worked over the tired muscles in your shoulders and hips, occasionally moving to cup one of your overly engorged breasts. Warm kisses and whispered words breathed into the back of your neck.

“Tommy, please,” the head of him was waiting at your opening, warm wet dripping down your thighs.

He pushed into you with a sigh as a moan escaped from between your lips, as if every inch of your insides had double the feeling it usually had. You could’ve let out a whole scream if you hadn’t been so tired and no one had been on the property at all.

You felt him press his lips to the back of your neck in a smile as small swears and louder moans escaped you each time he fully filled you.

“Oh, Tom, yes,” it usually took him a moment to decide it was safe to pick up the pace, usually aware it was okay by you changing the angle of your hips or grabbing for his hand the way you were now. His thrusts were even and strong, but he still wouldn’t go as hard or deep as you would like.

His other hand gently crept between your thighs, his fingers collecting the wet that had leaked from you to gently tease your sensitive nub. It was as if every part of you he touched was so much more heightened to feeling, that you just couldn’t put off finishing quick now.

You let your head fall forward against you arm with a groan as you took in the sound of his short breaths, skin touching on skin in the warm air.

His fingers were wetter now and worked quicker against you as you let out short gasps and moans.

“Love, don’t wait,” he breathed out, pushing into you a tad more, moving his hips just right, moving his fingers faster, “if you’re going to come for me come for me.”

He knew his soft words would help easily send you over the edge.

You thought it was because maybe he wouldn’t be able to again. You wouldn’t blame him, however he, in a few more thrusts, filled you hot once more as your warm cunt milked every last drop out of him.

You were stiff for a moment, taking a steadying breath before he helped you to sit on the side of the bed and redressed you in a clean nightgown pulled from the wardrobe.

After pulling on some of his own bedclothes, he cradled you in his arms, putting the extra pillow under your stomach so you could lay on your side comfortably, finally finding restful sleep as he lay beside you.

The next morning all four of your Shelby boys let you sleep in. Until half twelve. Half-twelve?!

You hadn’t even made your way fully to the bathroom before you felt like you desperately had to get to the toilet. The lower part of your hips hurt, your insides felt like they were getting rearranged by a marching band, and when you looked down at the black tile you stood upon, steadying yourself on the sink, there was wet.

“T-Tommy!” You yelled, unsure of where he was at in the house. “Tom!”

You heard two thuds as two sets of feet pattered down the hall like racehorses let out of the gate. Adam and James plowed through the door breathless, two sets of little blue eyes taking in their pained mother, as you stood in the doorway to the bathroom, a familiar tightening and cramping starting inside you.

“Where’s your father?”

“Daddy and Thomas are outside, Uncle Charlie and Curly are here!” Adam informed you excitedly.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, trying to get yourself back at least to the foot of the bed to sit, “okay. Adam, run and tell your father that I need him to come in the house.”

He took off with a nod and no further instruction.

“Mommy, are you okay?” James put his little hand on yours as you sat on the bed.

“James, lovey, can you go get Frances or Mary, whoever you find first. Tell them I need them.”

He tore out the door in a similar fashion to his brother. You recalled Tommy telling them a few weeks ago that when you started to have the baby, if no one was around, that was the only time they had permission to run in the house. And it looked like they were utilizing that to the fullest.

Now you let out a scream, and if you could have formed words you would have been cursing your husbands name as he came through the door.

He had been there with you for all three of the boys, and each time you had yelled and swore at him, telling him you’d never let him do this to you again, much to the nurses bemusement, as not many women had the gall to talk to their husbands that way. Although, not many husbands were there for the birth of their children either.

Each time you had gave birth it seemed like the time had halved, which meant if things continued on the same way, you had roughly a half hour before you’d be holding your baby.

“Okay,— No.” he started to speak before realizing he was trailed by all three of the boys and turned around to shuttle them out of the room, but you could still hear him speak to them in the hallway as Mary came in. “Listen, Thomas, you’re the oldest, so until we get back, you’re in charge of your brothers. You all need to be good for Mary and Frances—“

You didn’t hear the rest of his words as you let out another scream, “Mrs. Shelby do you want me to help you into something different before you leave,” the clean nightgown you had put on last night was navy and no less modest than the hospital gown they would end up giving you.

“No, Mary! Because if we don’t leave I will be having this baby here!” She nodded, as you yelled again for your husband through gritted teeth, “Tom!”

It took the both of them to help you down the stairs to the running car, where Charlie sat in the drivers seat.

Tommy climbed in the back with you, having you lay against him as he leaned against the door, as there was no way you could sit comfortably in the seat the way you were supposed to.

As another round of pain came again you weren’t sure if you were going to empty your stomach or pass out. You tried to watch the trees flit by and disappear in exchange for the brick buildings and fog of the city.

The pain was insurmountable. You held his fingers in your hand, as he used his free hand to rub your shoulder, and thought you would crush them if Charlie didn’t drive this damned car faster.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered, pushing the sweat soaked hair from your forehead as Charlie turned the car around corner at an alarming rate. “Breathe, love, you have to breathe.”

He was using the same tone he used to soothe the boys when they were sick or had a nightmare, and today it was working on you.

They had barely gotten you in to the room and situated, nurses and doctors with washed hands and clean gloves, before the baby arrived.

It only took two days for you to be able to go home. In the midst of your only duties, sleep and feeding the baby, someone had brought you clean clothes and actual shoes, not wanting to go home in your slippers and night gown.

As you stared down at the tiny face, swaddled in blankets with a tuft of dark hair peeking out, your heart skipped at the tiny eyes, a mirror image of your own, looking back at you.

There was a tiny sigh through the tiny mouth as the blankets squirmed. Tires crunching over the loose gravel of the drive came to a halt.

Tommy looked at you with a smile as you both sat in the last bit of silence you could hope to get for awhile.

“Have I told you,” he started, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your cheek, “how fortunate I am. For you. For this little family you’ve given us.”

“I think you have, Tommy, but that doesn’t mean ever want to stop hearing it.” He gave you a gentle kiss before getting out of the car to help you into the house.

He opened the car door for the both of you as you saw Mary and Frances take a peek through the curtains at the car in the drive, however by the time you were all at the door, they were doting on you and the baby as if they hadn’t taken a glimpse just before.

The house was quiet as they hung your jackets and whispered their congratulations on your tiny gift.

“Where’s our little tribe, eh?” Tommy asked as he continued to rock the baby, Mary laughing as a tiny arm stretched out of the blanket.

“They’re outside Mr. Shelby.”

You both wandered through the yard to the still standing tent, before opening the flap to see three sets of eyes glance up at you.

“Mom!” Adam smiled as they all started chatting and clucking like a bunch of hens.

They moved around, making room for all of you in the shade of their hideaway as you sat next to James and your husband crouched to hand you the babe before sitting next to you.

“Now, you lot need to be careful,” he boxed at Thomas’ ear as he was the closest, “a baby is a fragile thing,” He held each of their gazes in turn as he continued, “this baby you need to pay great mind at watching out for. Even as you grow. Even when you think that you’re too good for keeping an eye out, because now you have a sister,” each of their mouths turned into a small “O” that let out a gasp as he continued speaking, “and sisters need to be kept safe. That’s the job the three of you have now, keeping her safe.”

“What’s her name?” James asked, carefully touching the nose of the sleeping bundle in your arms.

“Cadence Ivy,” you spoke softly, looking down at your little girl. Finally a girl.

All the of boys took their turn holding her, carefully passed around and watched in awe at the help of either you or Tommy. You could tell there would be no shortage of help in taking care of your newest, smallest, Shelby.

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geekwritersworld · 2 years

Text

Scratches and Boys

Pairings: Peaky Blinders x reader (you)

Warnings: Mentions of slight violence, no details. Angst, fluff

A/n: I'm writing after an entire decade so I apologize for any.....strokes you may have reading this.✌️

Summary: (request)@luvlyencanto

Hey, how are you? Well, I wanted to make a wish for the younger sister Shelby, but a few years older than Finn. A request where the reader -or (Y/N)- comes home with tears in her eyes and several scratches on her (maybe she was tricked by some boy or she got caught. They tried a few things on her, but they weren't too far away, as she managed to stop them and escape). Of course, his brothers will protect the princess of the family. However, a few days later, the same people who tried to hurt her, will come back, as they didn't like to see a lady defending herself or simply didn't want to give the Victory award to the Shelbys, maybe they could invade her room, or her house, or something like that, anything that invades your brilliant mind.

You slipped of your coat as soon as the door shut behind you and were engulfed in warmth. You heard Arthur and Ada arguing-something about the business you assumed.

You weren't ever included in on the business, Finn was- despite him being younger to you. You'd grown tired of arguing with Tommy about it however, so you just let it go.

And instead kept to yourself, finding ways to keep yourself busy.

Finn had left school almost a year ago. Leaving school for you was out of the question, not just because you didn't want to, but because your brothers as well as Aunt Pol and Ada wouldn't allow it either.

But you didn't mind. School gave you a place to go, people there weren't the nicest to, they kept their distance from you. Which you decided was better than being picked on.

It wasn't that you hated being home with your family, because they were barely ever home. When they were, there was chaos- chaos you'd grown fond of cause it meant they were well and alive enough to be noisy. But you never really knew what to do, with the house empty, Ada working at the library living by herself, Aunt Pol and your brothers working at the betting shop, it was often just you and your thoughts.

Sometimes you went to the library Ada worked at and read for hours, but the commute was too long and you didn't trust yourself to return the book by the due date so you never borrowed one either.

Walking up the narrow creaky stairs, you slipped into your room, swiftly changed and headed to bed. Thinking about the day. About Edward walking up to you with that beautiful smile of his, his hair falling into place perfectly and his green eyes shining as he held his head high.

He came up to you out of nowhere and asked if you wanted to join him after school. And you thought it wasn't real for a second. But you agreed. You walked home ecstatic that day.

Falling asleep with a small smile gracing your lips, you didn't hear Tommy come in to make sure you were warm and home safe. Running his hand over the side of your sheets making sure they were tucked properly so you didn't feel cold anywhere he closed the door behind him.

Polly was without a doubt taken aback to see you coming down stairs without her having to scream at you to wake up, and all you said was you were looking forward to school today.

But Polly knew it was more than that. She didn't let on however that she knew and instead watched her niece devour her breakfast in minutes and speed out the door.

You pulled your black coat a little tighter around you, letting the chill yet damp air of small heath whip through your hair.

You were supposed to be meet with Ada an hour or so after school, but of course before that you were to meet Eddie, so you quickly gathered your things once school was out for the day and walked quickly down the dimly lit corridor of your school. You ignored the chattering and anyone else in your way and slipped out of the school doors.

It seemed as though it was going to rain. The clouds were dark and grey and the air felt damp against your skin.

The cut was where Edward had asked you to meet him. And you were nervous but quite excited. You had only a few months left for school, and before long you'd be looking at what to do with your life after. And you weren't sure if you'd see Edward again.

The bag heavy on your shoulder you turned the corner and headed further in to the tunnel leading up to the waters.

You never did like the cut, it was dark irrespective the time of the day and you weren't ignorant to what the cut was notorious for. But it was also the spot where Tommy once brought you years ago before the war, to comfort you after you'd accidentally ripped your favorite dress.

You leaned back against the wall- waiting. You began to wonder if maybe he wouldn't come. Had he forgotten? or maybe he was joking and you'd taken him seriously?

You were torn away from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps. You furrowed your brows in confusion, it didn't sound like just one person, those were the footsteps of multiple people. And you didn't know who it was.

"Ah Ms. Shelby" Eddie's lips stretched in to a smirk, as he walked in to the tunnel leading to the cut.

Trailing behind him were 3 other boys, all taller and seemingly stronger than you.

"What is this?" You asked, your heart thudding heavily in your chest. You had an abhorrent feeling you knew exactly what this was, your stomach tightened at the thought.

One of the boys behind him with dirty blonde hair snickered. You'd seen them around school before, but you didn't know their names.

"Oh nothing, we just didn't think you were stupid enough to think I'd actually want to see your face" Eddie snorted.

Tears pricking your eyes, your ears burned and hands grew sweaty despite the cold. You felt humiliated, you should've known.

But you didn't, and here you were.

It was only when you felt the edge of cut did you realize that Edward was moving closer to you at the same time you were moving away and before you knew it you were toppling into the water behind you.

At first all you heard was the water thundering in your ears. But once you'd managed to get your head out of the water, you heard the laughter. And all you wanted to do in that moment was crawl into bed.

And forget the entire day.

But you had no where to go, you weren't even sure where the cut ended and so with dread coiling in your stomach you slowly swam to the pavement near the boys.

Slipping your bag off of your shoulders you slid it on to the ground then proceeded to pull yourself up.

You shivered, you had nothing to keep you warm seeing as you were drenched from top to bottom in the coat you had on.

You hoped that Eddie would leave considering you were already humiliated enough. But he didn't. Neither did any of the boys. If anything they closed in on around you.

"Pol, where's Y/n?" Tommy slipped a cigarette between his lips walking into the betting shop where his aunt was sat.

"Is she not home yet?" Pol raised a brow

"No, just been there, 's no one home"

"have you checked with Ada? They were going some where together" She hoped you were with Ada.

"Ada's still at the library." Tommy quickly walked out of the shop, not saying another word to his aunt, who stood up concerned and went to find John when Tommy left.

Tommy only just adjusted his coat while walking out on to the street that was now wet with the rain that had begun to pour heavily when he spotted his sister slipping in to the house.

Quickly following after her and dodging people, not that he had to try very hard, people moved out of his way anyway.

Following after you Tommy noticed you didn't have your bag with you.

Hastily opening the door he stepped inside just in time to catch a glimpse of his little sister disappearing at the top of the stairs.

"Y/n" he called, knowing something was wrong. It wasn't like you to ignore him nor was it like you to come home late. You were the only one in the family, in Tommy's opinion who actually listened to anything that was said.

He heard muffled sobbing, hurrying up to your room. Not bothering to knock Tommy opened your bedroom door and saw you laying down on the bed face first.

You were drenched from top to bottom and it was obvious it wasn't just from the rain. But your missing bag confused him further, but what had him walk towards you in big strides was the scratch going down your arm.

"what happened?" Sitting down next to your quivering figure, Tommy placed a hand on your back.

You responded to his question by sobbing even harder.

"Y/n" Tommy's voice was softer this time "I can't help you if you don't tell me what it is eh"

Finally, wiping your eyes and nose, you looked at your big brother. It was only then Tommy noticed there were scratches on your face too.

Along with a torn lip.

Temptation ate away at Tommy to demand an answer about who had done this to his little sister, but he knew better than to show any anger towards you right now.

Voice quivering- your eyes watered again "Thought he actually cared"

You slowly shifted and sat against the wall, your legs curled up to your chest with Tommy's arm now on your shoulder.

"What?" He looked at you confused

"There was this boy, I'd sort of thought he was-" how were you supposed to tell your brother who was a Peaky Blinder you'd been pining over a boy for months? "thought he was ..nice"

Avoiding his gaze, you waited for him to speak.

"This boy, did he do this?" His voice was firm now

"Let it be Tommy, I defended myself alright" You shrugged.

"Did he do this to you?" Tommy asked slowly this time, ignoring your remark.

"I said let it go Tommy"

It wasn't in your nature to be firm, you stood up for yourself, sure. But in all the arguments you and Tommy had, he'd never heard you use that tone.

"Please, if there's any trouble again from him I'll tell you" Tommy decided he'd come back to it later. So instead he inspected the scratches and after deciding they weren't serious nor was the torn lip, he sat with you for a while, till he heard Polly come in with John downstairs, and then went downstairs.

"Somebody hurt her" Tommy said quietly. He didn't want his sister hearing him speaking to his aunt and brother about this.

"What" John yelled only to quieten down under Tommy's glare.

"Won't tell me who it is or what happened, all she said was it was a boy and she defended herself." Tommy looked at Johnny " find her bag John. It's not with her and I don't want her to go looking wherever it's been left"

John nodded and walked out, he had an idea of a few places where his little sister went often.

"What are you going to do?" Polly watched him closely, knowing her nephew wasn't going to let this slide as easily as he was making it seem.

"Give her time" Tommy walked in to the kitchen and pulled out a chair "talk to her about it then, find out who the boy is, and have a little chat with him then"

"To-"

"She's got a torn lip Pol, and scratches, on her arm and face" he continued at Pol's concerned expression " I checked to make sure they're not serious, but the point is, some kid, eh, hurt her. Now we can't let him get away with that can we"

He wasn't asking, he wouldn't when someone had threatened his sister's safety.

The following few days you went about them as normally as you could. Keeping to yourself, barely speaking to anyone- even at home. At school you did your best to avoid the boys. And you had a quiet few days since the incident. It wasn't lost on you that Tommy was going to insist on you telling him who the boys were. John and Finn had already tried their hand and failed.

Your brothers however had become even more protective if nothing else. Finn would escort you to school and back, it definitely got on your nerves since he was younger to you, John would linger around at the house a lot more than he usually did. Arthur and Ada constantly tried getting you to go out with them while Polly forced you to drink tea with her every now and then, and Tommy would sit with you a lot more than he used to.

"Make your own bloody tea Arthur" You groaned climbing up the stairs. Arthur had come home behind you. Knowing it wasn't a coincidence you dropped your bag, that John had found in the cut, near the stairs.

"I-" you stopped short in front of the mess. You room was never a mess. You hated it. But this was beyond a normal mess, someone had been in your room. " Arthur" you slowly went back down, a part of you was afraid whoever had been in your room was still around.

Arthur popped his head out of the kitchen door way "what?"

You walked towards him cautiously "someone's been in my room"

Arthur quickly waked towards your room. Treading carefully on the stairs. He wasn't concerned for himself as he was for you. He had a hand on his gun, and you trailed behind him quietly.

Pushing your room door open further Arthur took in the mess. Your clothes were on the floor, the bedside candle lamp thrown on the floor, photo frames were shattered and your sheets and curtains were torn up.

Draws from your table were open- it's contents scattered on the ground. Arthur swiftly looked around your room to make sure there wasn't anyone inside then quickly proceeded to check the other rooms.

And he found them to be clean- the way they had been left. He knew everything downstairs were left normal as well. He realized it was only your room that had been trashed.

With you still trailing behind him quietly, Arthur led you out of the house "need to see Tommy and Pol"

You still hadn't said a word. You realized there was only one person who could've trashed your room. Unless of course it was one the peaky blinders enemies. But it wasn't and you knew it.

The relatively empty betting shops door were slammed open making Tommy and Pol's heads snap up when Arthur barged in.

Tommy instinctively reached for his gun only to withdraw his hand seeing it was his siblings. His older brother spoke so quickly Tommy thought his brother was smoking.

He turned towards Arthur "Arthur what are you talking about?" he looked between you and his older brother.

"Someone Tommy" Arthur half yelled " bloody broke in to this ones room, 's all a mess Tommy" he caught his breath.

Tommy looked at you knowing that you knew who it was.

"Right Arthur, find John and Finn" Tommy was calm. You looked up knowing you weren't going to like what was coming next.

"You" Tommy looked at you " come on" he wasn't stern yet his tone let you know there was no way out.

You followed Tommy into his office while Arthur left and Polly rolled her eyes and continued looking over at the numbers knowing her nephews would handle it.

"name" you hadn't even sat comfortably yet and your brother was already demanding things.

"just don't kill him" rubbing your face you looked at Tommy.

"name" Tommy's voice more stern now

"Eddie"

"Eddie?" He didn't want nicknames or first names like the one you were giving him now.

"Edward Ray" You huffed.

"And?"

"What the fuck Tommy?"

"you and I know both there was more than one person." Tommy said nothing further but stared right at you. You were sure he wasn't even blinking.

"I don't know"

"n-"

"I honestly don't know Thomas, I'd only ever seen them once or twice in school" you slumped back in your chair "never bothered introducing myself" you smiled sarcastically.

"This" Tommy continued "is the part where you tell me exactly what happened" he lit a cigarette

"thought he wanted to meet up, went to the cut where we agreed to meet. He showed up with his friends, taunted me, I fell in the water, climbed out, they tried to touch me, I fought back, so did they apparently, left my backpack, they swore to get me back, and I came home. End of story" you said monotonously.

Tommy rolled his eyes, holding the cigarette between his fingers. He knew you were trying to downplay how you felt and what had happened. But he also knew this was the most he was going to get.

You were his sister after all.

You'd grown tired of the looks from your brothers, Ada and Pol kept giving you for the last few days. Why didn't any of them acknowledge the fact that you fought them off yourself instead of the fact that you got hurt?

"Y/n-"

"I know it was stupid of me Tommy, I know" you flailed your arms, you didn't need your brother judging you either.

"Bloody hell, would you shut up " Your eyes widened, he never really spoke that way to you "I'm trying to tell you those boys were bastards, it's not your fault. You've got to talk to us sweetheart, can't have you keeping secrets and getting hurt. It was stupid of you to go to any isolated place by yourself to meet a boy, but it wasn't stupid of you to like him nor hope he liked you back. I hate that you like any boy, but unfortunately I s'pose that's inevitable and I'm here to protect you against the bastards but I can't bloody do that if you don't tell me things"

"I don't need you to protect me Tommy" you were still taking in all that your brother said.

"No, but I want to"

Almost as if on cue Arthur barged in once again with Finn and John hot on his trails.

"Right boys, we've got some work to do" Tommy stood up, straightening his suit and grabbing his jacket.

"Don't kill him alright"

"We'll try" John snickered.

"I'm serious" you snapped standing up.

"Don't need to kill an 18 year old boy for being an arse"

"Yeah an arse that broke in to our home and fucked up your room and beat you up" Arthur muttered.

"HE DIDN'T- oh forget it" you gave up trying to explain you'd fought those boys off on your own. Sure they got a few scratches and a torn lip on you, but you'd bruised them too.

The four of your brothers were almost out the door when Tommy turned around to look at you "Y/n" he paused "We're proud- of you defending yourself" he walked out then

You smiled to yourself.

Tommy was absolutely raging inside, but he knew that had he shown any anger you wouldn't talk to him abut anything. You barely did anyway. But you were the light of your family's life. The only one who seemed to have any opportunity of getting out of small heath and making something for yourself. That's all your brothers wanted for you.

"She's a bloody fierce one, that one" Arthur mumbled, his brothers smiling as they got into the car- on their way to speak to the boy who thought he could lay a hand on their sister and simply get away.

But what did it for your brothers was the boys breaking in to your room. They didn't want to think of what could've taken place had you been in your room when it was wrecked.

They wouldn't take a chance at letting anything happen again, and Tommy thought a few blows to the face would do the job for the boy.

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby one shot #john shelby x reader #john shelby x sister #tommy shelby x sister reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby angst #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders fluff

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lavender-romancer · 1 year

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Crosses on my body

Part Two Tommy Shelby x Reader

You were a nun in Dublin but when you decided to take action against those in powerful positions in the church you had to escape. When you turn up in Birmingham and begin a relationship with Tommy Shelby will he be able to protect you from your past?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

"Jesus, our Lord. If you're there…why do you hide from me?" You knelt beside your bed with your hands clasped together. "Grant that I never lose sight of the ugliness of sin, the glory of Christ, the beauty of holiness, or the wonder of grace. Help me to seek you every morning with heart, soul, mind, and strength. In Jesus' name. Amen."

As you climbed into bed you thought over your evenings with Tommy. You had been to the church every evening together for 7 days now. Each time you either taught him how to pray or you would kiss him to see if you would be smited. The more Tommy told you about himself the more you became convinced he was consumed by evil. But evil you could save him from. Tommy said that you had been sent to save him, but you had to find salvation for yourself first.

You were walking down to the crypt of a church, you assumed this was a dream but they often felt so real it was hard to know. The air was crisp against your skin, making your hair stick up. When you reached the bottom of the stairs you saw some of your sisters.

"Sister Marianne! It's so good to see you," you exclaimed and she turned around with a horrified look.

"What did you do!" She screamed.

"I didn't do anything!" You took a step back and she moved towards you, eyes turning black as she threw you against the wall. Her face twisting into a horrifying amalgamation of darkness and blood.

"What have you done!" Her voice boomed.

You were suddenly surrounded by a circle of your sisters from Dublin, they were chanting something with their heads bowed moving around you. As you stepped back trying to get away from them you tripped over and saw Father Thomas' bleeding body, his neck slashed. Lying in a pool of his own blood you started screaming and crawled backwards but the faceless nuns pushed you towards him.

"You thought you could escape didn't you!" He screamed before getting on top of you and choking you. "You have sinned! Repent or you shall suffer in the bowels of hell!"

You could feel the life draining out of you, your eyes fluttering shut, his eyes were crying blood and he had this smile. This bone chilling coolness about this smile that made you terrified to keep your eyes open. No matter how much you struggled you were held down, he was too overpowering- you couldn't fight it.

Waking up with a scream you began sobbing uncontrollably, holding and rocking yourself back and forth.

"Lord God, I pray for your protection as I begin this day. You are my hiding place, and under Your wings I can always find refuge. Protect me from trouble wherever I go, and keep evil far from me. Amen." You recited the prayer that you had had to use so many times back in Dublin. So many times having asked the Lord for protection and so many times your prayers had not been fulfilled. How were you to trust in the Lord when he couldn't even protect you in your dreams? But it was all you had. Catholicism had been in your world since you could remember so even if it was all placebo or you were seeing things that weren't there, you needed faith. You had no one else who would care for you the same way, not anymore anyways. Anyone back in Dublin willing to help you was long gone by this time.

"Do you feel it coming back yet?" Tommy asked as you knelt in front of Mother Mary praying your rosary. "The faith I mean. Or is your crisis over,?

"I had a nightmare. Last night…about my old life. It looks like God won't even protect me from that regardless of all my confession work. I don't know what to think anymore, but I can't let go." You looked up at Thomas siting on the pew and sighed, still clutching your rosary you stood up and sat next to him.

"What was the nightmare about?"

"Things you won't understand, but mostly demon, devil based horror. I feel like something is following me around at all times. Some kind of being with a nefarious purpose." You started biting the skin around your thumbnail.

"I'm sure I would understand." Tommy said quietly.

"There's things I can't quite trust you with yet. In time I'm sure I will. But revealing my deepest secrets to you would not be wise." You made the sign of the cross with your crucifix and ended your prayer with a few minutes of meditation.

"You can trust me," Tommy said later when he was walking you back to your lodgings.

"How do I know that?" You asked with your arms crossed.

"Because I can also reveal a secret to you, I've probably got the longest list in Birmingham. Mutually assured destruction is the best start to companionship." Tommy blew out a cloud of smoke that you watched rise up into the air, dissolved into the night sky. "My mother used to tell me smoke made the stars, possibly to explain why my father smoked the amount he did."

"Is that your secret?" You asked.

"Nah, just a story. My secrets are more sinister than that, I know you're hiding something but I can't imagine it's sinister in nature." Tommy seemed to underestimate you entirely which made it all the more entertaining that you held the cards in the conversation.

"I think you think too little of me and my past." You smiled at him.

"Perhaps. But I've known women like you, shrouded in secrecy that I can't quite seem to figure out until it's too late for me." He stopped and leant against a brick wall, looking you up and down with a gaze that penetrated into your mind.

"Is that what your wife was like?" You weren't sure if the question was too personal for him to answer.

"She was deception based from the start, but one way or another we fell for each other." Tommy looked glassy eyed, you couldn't picture this being the type of man who would cry but honesty would catch anyone off guard.

"I'm sure I'll reveal my secrets to you, someday. But not now." You carried on walking past Tommy and he ran his tongue across his bottom lip before walking after you.

"But truth will set you free, as you've probably said before to some lost soul" Tommy joked and you smiled.

"That's true. But some secrets can put you in harm's way and…I don't trust anyone truly. Life's safer that way." Your expression was subtly sad but Tommy noticed.

"I only trust my family and even then there's some exceptions. Having no allies isn't the way to go." Tommy stopped and he stood closer to you.

"Are you proposing an allyship?" You whispered looking up into his eyes.

"Perhaps. You light my cigarette, I'll light yours and so on." Tommy held out a cigarette and placed it between your lips, a confusing look on his face before he used his hand to shield the air and lit it.

"That's sounding horrendously suggestive, Mr Shelby." You breathed smoke up into the air, still uncertain on what the lack of distance between the two of you meant.

"Does the suggestiveness scare you?' Tommy asked in a low raspy voice.

"You don't know anything about my inclination for suggestiveness." You smiled and turned on your heel. "I'll see you tomorrow, Thomas."

Tommy watched as you faded into the darkness, just as secretively as you had arrived.

The following morning you woke to an insistent knocking at your front door, it woke you up with a start (memories flooding back of the early mornings at the convent). You approached the door cautiously, holding a knife out in front of you.

"Who's there?" you called out.

"It's your landlady," the slightly familiar voice called. "I'm sorry miss, there's a woman here insistent on seeing you." It felt like the blood had drained from your face at the possibility of it being someone from Dublin.

"W-what does she want? What does it entail?" your voice was panicked and stuttering.

"Have I done wrong, miss? She said you would know her, a Theresa O'Sullivan." The landlady's words echoed in your mind and your eyes began to water, you put down the knife and unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry," You told her. "I was anxious about who the visitor was but you can send her up." You smiled at her and she nodded.

The following knock at your door was timid, so as to not disturb but alert you of their presence. You almost jumped up as your eyes began to water before flinging open the door and enveloping her in a hug.

"Theresa!" you laughed as she held you close.

"It's been so long my dear friend," She said close to your ear.

"How have you been? How's life out of the community, whereabouts are you these days?" You asked as you sat down with her and a pot of tea.

"I'm in the south at the moment, I'm married now and we run a church community now," she paused. "I heard noises. The community is small but we have connections in Ireland so... there are little bubbles of noise every now and then." she paused in a seemingly uncomfortable way.

"I mean, I can assume what they said but what did you hear?" You asked timidly.

"That there was a murder," she paused and looked down at her hands which began to shake. "And... and that there were things that were stolen I'm not sure what. But then I heard whispers about you and I knew I had to find you."

"And you think it's me?" you asked.

"I know you had ideas, I haven't told anyone if you're worried about that I just needed to know you were safe." She reached out and touched your hands. "Y/n, are you safe."

"As safe as you can be after you've done what I have. Tell me about everything, please. Take my mind off it." you squeezed her hands with a smile.

"I have a husband, I met him about three years after leaving Ireland and we've been blessed with three children so far. It's a quiet village with a town hall and a church, not much else, I can see you've taken well to a busy city though." She smiled and you nodded.

"I needed a change, anyway I could so I found a job first and this was the easiest one with the least questions involved. I'm so glad you're safe, I never heard from you and I was so worried." You reached forward and touched her face "But you're here and you're alive."

"We both made it out, remember that. We're both safer now. Don't look back, don't look away just move forward and escape as far as you can." Her eyes began to water. "Because if they come for you, you're dead and no one can protect you or save you from them."

"What do you mean?" your heartbeat began picking up.

"They came for me when I was in Liverpool, I had no one and nothing. No one helped me because I didn't know who to trust but then I revealed too much at confession and they came for me." she paused, her breath faltering and hitching.

"Theresa, what happened?" You said sternly gripping her hand.

"They did this," She pulled up her dress and showed a deep scar on her right leg then pulled up her shirt and showed a long scar from the top of her ribcage diagonally down towards her navel. It was dark and twisted near the bottom.

"Who?" Your hands began to shake as Theresa pulled down her shirt.

"Father Thomas' messengers, they assumed I'd escaped revealing their secrets but I just wanted to escape so they tortured me before I escaped once more," She smiled. "I'm glad you killed the bastard when you had the chance."

"What they did to you... should I be running further?" you asked, feeling your throat tighten.

"There's nowhere you can run that's far enough to outrun them. We are some of the only survivors of their horrific system and I hope you tear it all down." She reached over and hugged you tighter than before.

"We are united, you and I. In sickness and in health like a fucking marriage alright. I will make sure everyone knows what we witnessed and they won't escape it. None of them." You held her by the shoulders and smiled through your tears.

"Say a prayer with me, for strength." Theresa smiled at you and you both began in silent prayer to save each other from your past and your enemies.

next part Peaky blinders taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

#tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders fluff

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eviegray · 2 years

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❛ dating thomas shelby would include ❜

。being loved by thomas it's like drinking a warm cup of tea on a cold winter day. it feels right, comforting and brings you safety.

。while he's notoriously known for rarely showing emotions, tommy doesn't spare you from his love. when you two are alone at home, he is always holding you close and placing soft pecks all over your face.

。a day doesn't go by where he doesn't remind you how close he holds you to his heart.

。he is a very good listener, and will always be there for you, no matter what. every time you have something going on, tommy will always be the one working out a solution with you... he never wants you to go through anything alone.

。"i'm here and i love you. i don't care if i have to stay up with you when you cry all night long. i will stay with you. there is nothing you can ever do to loose my love.'

。spoils you... spoils you rotten. anything you want is yours.

。"my eyes adore you darling, but it's my soul that fell in love with you."

。we all know the man gets injured all the bloody time, and he loves when you take care of him after. the way you softly clean his cuts or wipe the blood of his body... finishing with a loving kiss.

。loves you more than life itself. in fact, he often feels like you're the reason why his life makes sense. he could never let you go.

。dead is the man that even considers harming you.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby one shot #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby fluff #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 6 months

Text

Polly Gray nee. Shelby Masterlist

Mommy… Master List

Approach at your own risk… smut =* extra smutty =**

One Shots

Polly Gray Appearance Appreciation

Mistress Kink with Polly Gray*

Hand Fetish with Polly Gray

Snowed In, Let Me Show you How it’s Done ~Fem!Younger!Reader**

Oh and I take Requests, so hit me up with your ideas 😉 Requests & Prompt-List

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dreamerschroniclesofstories · 5 months

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masterlist:

started: 27/11/23

last updated: 22/04/24

total works: 4

PEAKY BLINDERS:

IMAGINES:

Tommy:

Goodbye, Tommy Shelby PT2

Crawl home to her

REQUESTS

Secretary ( Tommy x reader)

Maid ( Tommy x reader)

Sickly ( Tommy x Sister!reader)

SERIES

Shelby family:

Clementina: PT1 , PT2 , PT3 , PT4

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asmutwriter · 6 months

Text

The Gangstas Wife (Part 2)

DESCRIPTION: You agree to Thomas Shelby's plan of marriage. Having the wedding ceremony and starting to involve yourself in their family business.

WORD COUNT: 3082

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, smoking, underage drinking (brief), smut, vanilla sex, creampie, violence, talk of violence

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.

Its your wedding day. You'd be lying if you said you could remember most of the day before the ceremony. Your nerves are so high that you tried to drink most of them away. Your friend having to confiscate the alcohol from you. Worried you might pass out from indulging to much. It was after you'd said 'I do' that you remember the party. People drinking, smoking, dancing. Elizabeth comes over to you as you hold a beer.

"Can I try some?"

"Your 15"

"How old where you when you first tried alcohol?" you chuckle, handing it to her as she takes it

"You won't like it" she takes a small sip. Her face scrunching up as she hands it back to you

"That is vile" you nod, drinking it as she dramatically coughs "how can you drink that stuff?"

"Quite easily" you say, amusement in your voice as you ruffle her hair. She bats at your hands

"Stop you're embarrassing me"

"I'm your sister, its my job to embarrass you" she rolls her eyes. Mary running over as she grabs Lizzies hand.

"Come dance with me" she drags her away. You watch as they both dance near a fire pit. Drinking your drink as Tommy walks over to you. Standing next to you. He also watches the people dancing around the fire.

"We should be going" he says "its getting late". You fidgit with your sleeve as you nod

"You're sure your sister is ok to look after Liz and Mary? I don't want to be a burden to her" he smiles slightly

"You're family now so its not a burden" he turns his head to face you as you keep fidgeting with your sleeve. Watching your sisters "you've not left them alone before, have you?"

"Not over night" he nods. His eyes still on you "ok. Ok. I got this" you down the rest of your drink. Half a pint without breathing. Causing him to smile as he looks away. You place it down onto a table nearby. You say goodbye to your sisters before you head off. Hugging them both and kissing the tops of their heads. Following your newly wed husband out to the car.

Tommy had booked a small room in Worcester. The Shelby family had agreed to dropping your sisters off at home. Ada even saying she'll stay in the house with them as you'd never left them on their own before. You'd spoken to her a few times after the ceremony so you trusted her with them. This didn't stop you being anxious the whole journey. Fidgeting with your hands as he drives you both to the place. Getting out he walks with you to the room.

You get inside. He shuts the door behind you as you look around the room. You feel his eyes on you. Watching as you go over to a small fireplace. Running your finger over the mantel piece. You turn to face him. Him taking off his jacket before leaning against the door. "Are you a virgin Flo?" you look at him. Meeting his gaze

"No. No I'm not. Mr Shelby" he nods. Eyes still on you as you swallow deeply. Talking in a soft tone, trying to sound semi seductive as you speak "Can you help me unbutton my dress please?" he moves from the framework. Walking over to you. Not once leaving your eyes as he comes in front of you.

His hands tracing down your sleeved arms before going behind you. Feeling him unbuttoning them. Once he undoes the last one he brings his hands up. Gently pulling the fabric down your body. Letting the dress pool around your feet. Leaving you in your negligee.

You move your hands to his waistcoat. Feeling him remove the item of clothing as your hands go quickly to work on his shirt. Undoing the buttons of that as well. He brings a hand up to your cheek. Leaning forward as he presses a kiss to your lips. Soft kisses being exchanged between the two of you. Your hands undo the last button of his shirt, pulling it from being tucked in his trousers. He moves to your neck. You push his shirt off of him. That falling to the bottom of your feet.

You let your head fall back as he kisses near your collar bone. One of his hands going to your lower back as he keeps you pressed against him. The other going to your breast at he kneads at it. One of your hands goes to the back of his neck. The other gripping at his shoulder as a soft moan escapes past your lips. He moves back up. His hands going to the bottom of your negligee. You bring your arms up as he pulls it over your head. Leaving you naked in front of him as he drops it onto the floor.

A soft blush coming over your cheeks. His hands going to the button of his trousers as he undoes them. Taking his underwear off as well. Leaving you both naked. A hand coming to the back of your neck as he kisses you. Your hands coming up to rest on his chest as he leads you to the bed. His arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you onto it. Lying down as he comes on top of you. Your lips never parting as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He keeps himself elevated above you by resting on his forearm. The other hand coming and tracing down the side of your body. Grabbing at the flesh of your thigh. Your legs going either side of him as you feel him adjust above you. He moves away from your lips, causing you to open your eyes, half lidded as you feel his fingers go to your core. Soft whimpers leaving your lips as he pushes a finger into you. You shut your eyes, hand going to the back of his head as you pull him down. Capturing his lips with yours as he drags his finger along your walls. Inserting another one into you.

"So fucking needy already" he murmurs, moving away from the kiss. Letting the sounds fall past your lips and landing delicately on his ears. He kisses at your neck as he continues his slow drag against you. Building you up slowly, ready for his cock. You shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of bliss going through your body. The gentle kiss at your neck as he continues a steady rhythm with his fingers. Getting closer to your high.

You let out an annoyed huff as he removes his fingers. The steady bliss leaving your body suddenly. Opening your eyes you look at him. His piercing blue ones looking back down at you, blown out with lust as he hovers above you. You lean upwards, trying to kiss him. To get any sort of contact again. But he just lets out a soft chuckle. The hand that was inside of you coming up and gently pushing down onto your chest. Another annoyed huff coming from you as your eyes stay on his lips.

"Please sir. Want to feel you". Those little words causing him to smile softly. His hand moving from your chest as he takes his length. Lining himself up with you as he slowly pushes into you.

"Shit" you grip the back of his neck. Your other hand grabbing at his arm as he smiles down at you. Kissing you as he bottoms out. He moves away from your lips, starting to move his hips into your. Your eyes flutter shut as his slow, precise movements. Your hand gripping his body as soft whines of pleasure leave your lips. His thrusts start to get faster as your moans get louder. Feeling yourself fall more into the state of bliss.

"P-please... please don't stop" you speak out. You feel your face scrunching slightly as your high builds up and up. Your nails digging into the back of his neck slightly as you bite your bottom lip. Feeling his lips start to kiss at your neck, instinctively tilting it so he can gain easier access to it. You feel him letting out soft grunts, the air hitting your skin as he also gets close. "Gonna cum. Please..." you feel him smile against your skin as you push your legs together. Your orgasm hitting you. An unholy moan escaping your lips

"Fuck" he mutters, feeling you clench around his length. He moves in and out of your hole a few more times. Over stimulation soon hitting you, causing you to whine out and clench your legs together. A few more thrusts before his hips move fully into you before he releases himself. The sensation of him filling you up. You get rid of the iron grip you have on his neck and arm. Gently running your hand soothingly over his neck as the other one remains rested on his arm. You both catch your breath before he pulls out of you.

He lies next to you. The both of you staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. Sitting in the sex filled air. He sits up, you turn your head to watch him as he grabs a pack of smokes and takes two out. Passing one to you as he grabs some matches too. You turn to your side as he passes you one of the sticks he got out. You place it into your mouth as you sit up slightly. Arm bent as you rest your head on your hand. He sits up on the bed, one leg bent as he rolls the cigarette over his lips before placing it there. Lighting the match he does yours first before his. Smoking in blissful silence before going to sleep.

It had been a couple of months since you'd married Mr Shelby. 2 months in fact. The Shelby's didn't fully trust you. Whenever they spoke about business they would always speak in hushed tones. Often going silent if you walked into the room. You understood why. You figured they did this for a variety of reason - the less you know the less you have to talk about; they didn't fully trust you yet due to being a new member of the family; and they didn't know if you had any ulterior motives. That was where the list ended.

So to say that they're behaviour towards you was mildly irritating would probably be an understatement. But you gritted your teeth and got on with your life. You don't expect them to tell you all the gritty details but even just being able to have a conversation with your husband or one of your in-laws without it turning into them asking you why? Why were you wanting to know about their days? Why did you care whose blood you were washing out of your husbands shirts?

You were in your house. Mending a torn dress as you hear the door slam. Jumping you go over to greet whoever was at the door. Furrowing your brow in confusion at the empty hallway. Then you hear the annoyed shouting next door. In their work house. You put down your dress. Going over to the wall you press your ear against it. Curiosity getting the better of you as you listen in. Although you couldn't make out the words exactly, you could hear who it was talking. You heard Tommy's voice. Mixed with both John and Arthur's.

You try and focus on their words. Frowning slightly as you try and figure out what they are saying. Them speaking to softly for you to be able to hear "What the hell are you doing?" Jumping you turn around. Seeing Polly. Her eyes on yours as you clutch at your heart.

"Fuck you scared me. I didn't hear you come in"

"Clearly" she speaks "what were you doing?" watching you as you think of an excuse. The longer you stay silent the more... aggressive her stare became.

"I thought I heard rats in the walls. I've seen them outside a couple of times and I heard a scratching so I was just listening for them" you try to keep your eyes steady on hers as you feel fear coming over your body at your lie. The sounds of the boys next door stopping. She nods, eyes going to the wall as she takes her coat off.

"How was your day?" You try to control your breathing as you change the subject. Blanking out for her answer as she tells you about her day. 'mhmm'-ing in agreement as she talks. Thinking shes taken your bluff as she stops dwelling on it.

You spend the rest of the evening as you normally would. You play a card game with your sisters as Tommy continues his work next door with his family, Polly now joining them. You put the girls to bed. It was late by this point so you go upstairs, starting to get ready for bed. You wash your face, hearing the bedroom door open you look around. Seeing the familiar frame of your husband walk in.

"How was your day?" you ask Thomas as he walks into the room fully. Feeling his eyes on you as you turn your face away from him again. Continuing to get ready for bed. Taking off your dress. You turn to face him properly. Confused as to why he wasn't answering you. His face strikes fear into your very core. His eyes boring holes into you as you stand there. He remains silent as he watches you. Like a hawk on its prey.

He reaches into his jacket. Taking out a gun. Your body going stiff as he walks over to the vanity unit in your bedroom. Placing the gun on the top. Then taking his jacket off as he places it over the top of the chair. "Mr Shelby?" Trying to sound unwavered by his glare but your voice coming out as a whisper. He turns around to face you. Hands leaning on the unit now behind him. Fingers dangerously close to the gun. You manage to move your eyes away from the weapon and up to his face as he starts to speak.

"I spoke to Polly earlier. She told me that we have a rat problem" you nod slightly

"I heard them in the walls..." you whisper out

"What was that?" he leans forward slightly, almost mocking. Daring.

"I heard them" your voice stronger this time "In the walls. She found me listening for them" he nods. Watching you still. Silence cutting through the air.

"I had to kill someone today". The lack of emotion with those cruel words sends a shiver down your spine. You look away from him. Eyes panning to the ground. "I found out that one of my men had been double crossing me" you hear him walk over to you. His hand comes up. Grabbing your face under your jaw. Forcing you to look straight at him as your hands go up. Instinctively going to his wrist.

Although you manage to control yourself from shaking in fear you aren't able to control the panic going through your eyes as he pulls you close to him. "So I took his eyes. His fingers. And his tongue" his thumb gently brushing over you lips as his sharp blue orbs stay on yours. "Before I left him to bleed out on the floor". Now you understand why his enemies fear him so.

"Mr Shelby... Please..." you feel your eyes filling with tears. The fear and pain from his grip making your eyes start to well up.

"You know who my family are. What my family do. You knew all this before we got married. There must've been some other reason as to why you decided to eavesdrop on us having a private meeting". You stay quiet. The grip on your jaw tightening. Causing you to take a sharp breath in. "The truth Florence". Pain surging through your jaw. His blunt nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks. A single tear falling down your cheek. Eyes darting between his as he watches, waiting for your answer.

"I- I heard the door slamming and then voices and I got curious... I thought... if I knew wh-what the problem was - if there was a problem - then I could help... that I could be of service to you and your family... I promise Mr Shelby. It was just a stupid mistake. I'm sorry... I'm really sorry..." He thinks for a moment. Taking in what you just said. His hand loosens slightly but doesn't drop your face.

"You wanted to be of service to myself and my family?" you nod. As best as you can given his hold on your jaw. He thinks for a minute. Your eyes watching each others as silence once again fills the room. He drops your face. Going over to the vanity unit again. Eyes darting back to the gun as you try and keep your best composure. You look back at him when he grabs a cigarette from his jacket pocket. Lighting it as he sits down on the chair. He watches you, eyes scanning over your currently half dressed body.

"I know what you're family thinks of me"

"Why do you care what they think of you?"

"Normally I don't. But the lack of trust they have with me is... unnerving. Every time I go into a room I worry they're going to kill me" you walk over to him. Slowly as to not startle him. Aware that his gun is in grabbing distance. You kneel in front of him. Eyes on his as you rest your hands on his legs. "I don't expect them to trust me enough to tell me their personal lives. But it'd be nice to not fear for my life every time I walk into a room. I thought if I could help with your enemies then they might like me more".

He takes a deep inhale of his smoke. Thinking about what you've said. He removes the cigarette with his middle finger and thumb, watching you as rings of grey exit his mouth. "We have a family meeting tomorrow. Nine o'clock. You can join us and I'll start thinking about letting you into the more gritty parts of our jobs, eh?"

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call-sign-shark · 3 months

Text

Loose Cannon|| Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: The heatwave continues and you have an excellent --and illegal -- idea to refresh yourself... To Arthur's greatest despair. But let's be honest, your antics only make him fall harder for you || . Modern!Peaky AU Loose Cannon

Words: 4.2k

TW: language, mutual pinning, unresolved sexual tension, idiots in love, physical description of the MC, quick allusion to child abuse, no proofreading we die like John.

Notes: Each part is individual and can be read as one-shots in no particular order.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” A painful moan escaped from your quivering lips, your voice rendered croaky by all the effort. If your heart could break free from your ribcage it would have done it already but yet he was, drumming and agonizing in a prison of bones.

“Shut up and take it.” A low growl underlined by a light tremor of fatigue replied to you, its owner wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand as he kept on moving increasingly faster. The cacophony of his pulse hammering in his temples almost covered your complaints but, unfortunately for him, it wasn’t enough, and still heard you scream at him. Arthur should have known that you wouldn’t be docile.

“You’re torturing me!! I’ll sue you, Arthur Shelby!” Forced to pause between each word, you tried your best not to faint well aware that the soldier had no pity for you. He would continue what he was doing whether minding your consciousness. Why would he while you were the one who asked for it? All you wanted was for him to stop and yet he remained criminally deaf to all your supplications, “I can’t… I can’t anymore.” Your voice cracked.

“You wanted to do this with me so now yer going to assume your choice. Faster ey.” He ordered through gritted teeth, and the gravel in his voice made you crumble from inside.

“ It— It hurts. My legs are fucking shaking! Please stop! St—” You were about to keep whining when all came to a quite brutal halt. Indeed, this confusing chaos ended up with your face suddenly bumping against the soldier's chest. “Aouch!” You exclaimed, pushing yourself from him and ready to excoriate the fucker. “Couldn't you fucking warn me, bastard” You brought your hand to your nose and rubbed the pain away, your furious eyes shooting him a murderous look.

“And can’t ye stop fookin’ complaining? I told you that each afternoon I go for a run with Hannibal. You’ve spent all the morning begging to come with me and now that you’re here, ye do nothing but whine like a fookin' kid.” As Arthur lashed out his frustration on you, his chest rose and fell quickly for his lungs had troubled to understand he wasn’t running anymore. And despite his erratic breathing he still found enough air to scold you. Usually, you wouldn’t have minded his explosive anger but a particularly harsh night of nightmares and insomnia had turned you a bit overemotional today. While holding a bit of truth, his words still vexed you which resulted in you fleeing his eyes and crossing your arms on your tight chest.

“You don’t understand.” You mumbled, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek as your brain processed with forming a kind of explanation to offer him.

“And now she's sulking!” Arthur roared and rolled his eyes, losing the remnant of patience he had left. “Yer a fookin’ pain in the ass, that’s what you are ay. Go home if ye too tired to keep running, but I ain’t gonna change me habits for you.” An arrow through the heart would have been less painful. Your lips parted, willing to speak, but not a single coherent thing came out. You stuttered a very brief while before definitely giving up and the only thing you knew: being insolent.

“That’s not what I asked for!” You exclaimed, fists closed tights and blood boiling in your veins. Obviously, the corrosive effects of anger didn’t help. “You’re a bloody idiot, that’s all you are ay!” If there was one thing positive about this whole scene it was your perfect imitation of him.

“So what the fook d’ya want?!” His hoarse voice resounded so loud in the park that a few passersby couldn’t help but glance at you with curiosity. Lacking proper words, you ended up stomping your feet and screaming with frustration, hands pulling your own hair. The noises, the images, the smells in your head… They were all too much. Caught in a whirlwind of panic and anger, you would have given everything to be able to calmly explain that all you wanted was to be with him and not alone with your twisted thoughts, bad memories, and the faint voices in your head. Then, you would have proceeded to tell him that the only moment your mind was quiet was when he was by your side, as hard as it was to admit it. If it had been the case, everything would have been easier but no, and you hated yourself even more for all of this. Come on Rat, say it, you thought.

I just want to be with you, Arthur. Because it feels good when I'm with you. I might want to murder you sometimes but your presence is comforting to me. Please, let me stay by your side and protect me from myself.

But words remained stuck in your throat and all of it was because of a deep-rooted and still open wound you carried with you every day of your life. From the day Uncle Jack entered and destroyed it the only way you could express yourself was with violent emotional outbursts and tantrums, your body and mind still not recovering from the pain he had inflicted on you. And here was the reason why you were in the middle of the park sulking at Arthur Shelby after he had scolded you like an unruly kid.

Woof. Between the two of you sat the soldier's huge malinois, wondering why his master had stopped running and why everyone looked so angry. Curious, Hannibal stared at him with his dark beady eyes reflecting the sunlight. Then, his focus shifted to you before letting out a louder bark. In the end, what caught his attention the most was the girl's utter sadness he could sense. That was why he walked to her and gently bumped her legs with his head.

“What?!” The soldier barked back, his steel-blue eyes diving into the dog’s chocolate-brown irises, quite not believing that his own K9 had turned against him. Hannibal finally sat by your side and barked at Arthur again, and his antics brought a pause in all this senseless chaos.

“Listen...” You started, your free hand nervously spinning one of your long blue braids, “I’m sorry,” You finally mumbled, losing your slim fingers — which were wrapped with multicolor bandaids — in the beast's fur. The softness of his hair under your flesh sends you a wave of comfort. “Fucker." You added, for you couldn't address him without at least calling him names.

“Yeah.” Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he wanted to stop his dawning headache — which was the case. At least you apologized and that was already a win. "Alright." He finally said with his thick Brummie accent, his muscles finally relaxing and the handsome features of his face softening, “Alright.” He repeated, running a hand in his scruffy beard as he looked for an idea to maybe make amend for how he had yelled at you in public. "I wasn’t feeling it today anyway. It's too bloody hot out 'here. Wanna get an ice cream instead?" He suggested, one brow raised. For once, you didn't need words to be understood for the way your eyes enlightened at the mention of the frozen treat had been more than enough for him to understand. Just like the sun coming after the storm, your lips curled in a faint smile.. A smile that made Arthur's anger vanish and his heart melt more than he was willing to admit.

Did you, two independent and tough adults, fight over ice cream's flavors? Absolutely yes.

"Pistachio and chocolate is THE banger."

"Suck my dick you unoriginal dumbass, lemon and raspberry is the best combo."

"No one fookin' likes lemon sorbet, dumb bitch. You're just being a weirdo."

"If I were you I would shut the fuck up right now because I'm about to smash my ice cream on your ugly face!"

"Oh yeah? Go ahead and I'll beat your fucking ass -- don't care if people see me, you bloody brat!"

It was the kind of heated conversation you had during the whole way home, to Hannibal's greatest despair. At one point, you even swore you had heard the dog sigh loudly, probably bored of your stupid fights. The beast had found hope when you almost tripped on your own feet and Arthur, with his sharp reflexes, had managed to grab you by the hand right before you hit the ground. With that little unfortunate event, he assessed that you were far too clumsy for your own good and that keeping your hands in his was the best way to avoid injury. The more minutes flew by, the more your fingers intertwined together. You finally reached home, reluctantly letting the soldier's large and calloused hand go. As he searched for his key, you simply stretched your body with your hands high and your body weight momentarily resting on your tiptoes, the intense temperatures of the heat waves had exhausted both of you.

"Arthur." You called him, something catching your attention nearby.

The soldier replied with an uninterested "hm" as he opened the door to let Hannibal rush inside before he finally looked at you from above a freckled shoulder. For a split second, he completely forgot that you were talking to him, far too hypnotized by the way sweat made your silky skin glow and how your bright blue braids danced in your back at each of your movements. Arthur couldn't lie to himself -- You were an otherworldly and unusual combination of beauty and chaos.

"Did you know that your neighbor owned such a big-ass pool?!" You exclaimed, your little fists on your hips and your broken-doll face adorned with an outraged pout.

"Hm, yes I did." He absentmindedly replied, too busy carefully observing your lean frame, which exuded a sense of boundless energy that perfectly matched with your vibrant and expressive powder-blue eyes, filled with a mischievous spark. From your grunge makeup and your colorful hair to your attractive body and the blue clouds tattooed along a whole arm, everything of you enticed him.

"Fucking cunt. It's a shame to have such a big swimming pool and not use it." You shook your head and pout, shifting your body weight on one leg more than on the other, hence making your seductive hips tilt. Arthur forced himself to look away -- it wouldn't be that hard if you weren't wearing the shortest shorts he had ever seen.

"Well, he's on vacation." He shrugged, "C'm'here Rat. I ain't your bloody door holder."

"Do you ever stop being grumpy?" You kicked a pebble with your combat boot in his direction.

"Do you ever stop being an annoying little shit?" His lips stretched in a carnivorous and teasing smile at your childish antics.

"Fuck you, Arthur." You retorted, laying a kiss on his jaw before disappearing inside the house.

Please do, he thought.

Just one night.

There was the exact wording he had used when you forced your presence in his bed two weeks ago, arguing that the only fan in the whole house was in this room. While your excuse could be believable, it didn’t explain why you ended up in his arms. So when you came back the night after and slipped under the thin sheet to snuggle up with him without uttering a single thing, Arthur told himself “Just another one”. But the heart was a strange creature and when it fell, it fell hard. Your surprising demonstration of affection was all it took for Arthur's mind to quickly forget about chasing you away, the idea gradually becoming unthinkable until he genuinely wondered how he managed to sleep without your presence next to him. From then an odd game of pretend settled between you and him: During the day you were fighting about the most ridiculous details, never missing a moment to get under the other’s skin, and yet, when the night came and the world turned silent, you found yourselves melting against each other, your lips brushing his neck to make him shiver and his nose buried in your vibrant hair to lured the demons of war away.

As Arthur woke up, his eyelids still heavy and his mind still foggy, he growled in dissatisfaction at the realization that you weren’t in his arms anymore. Maybe the heat had finally won, and his body temperature really kept you from sleeping? It was with this in mind that he stretched one arm, his hand patting the mattress. Not only he want to make sure you were still next to him, but he also already missed your touch. His fingers were met with empty sheets as they collided with the soft fabric. Blood immediately rushed through his entire body, adrenaline rattling against his every nerve just like it used to when his squad had to wake up to gunshots and bombs. For one second, Arthur couldn’t tell if he was in Birmingham or back to Iraq and somehow, he didn’t mind. Jumping from the bed and trying not to drown in his PTSD-induced paranoia, the soldier looked around him with haste, “Love?!” He called, rummaging through the room until the sight of the wide-open bedroom window made him freeze. After a few microseconds of complete panic, Arthur leaned over the window sill in a desperate attempt to see you and fortunately did. You were here, safe and sound in Small Heath. Far from death, maimed bodies, and agonizing soldiers. His shoulders dropped as he relaxed, watching you swimming in the neighbor’s pool. The information soon reached his brain: the neighbor’s pool? “Fuck me.” Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes at the thought of you trespassing the garden to take a midnight bath in his pool.

Unbelievable.

Wasting no more time, the soldier left the house without minding the fact he was wearing nothing more than his sweatpants. It wasn’t difficult for him to climb the fence and jump on the other side of it, right into the neighbor’s garden, considering how he had learned much more during his military training with the SAS. With both hands on his head, he roared “Are you fookin’ crazy?!” His steel blue eyes, whose color shone brighter under the glow of the pool’s lights, also noticed a familiar bottle in your hand, “Is it me or you’ve stolen me whisky? Jesus Christ, I’m going to drown you, you fucking disaster of a girl!” He looked so dramatic that you couldn’t help but giggle, his screams not impeding your little bathe. “LAUGHING AT ME FACE SHE IS!” This time Arthur, breathless with rage, was yelling so loud that the pale skin of his face had turned bright red.

"Sheeesh, calm down, you gonna pop an artery.” You swam closer to the edge of the pool, slightly lifting your body to cross your arms on the warm tiles. The way your two long blue braids danced behind you, waving like two water snakes, captivated his attention for a very short while. The soldier was about to retort something murderous when you cut him for a second time, “Why don’t you join me instead of making a fool of yourself eh? The house’s empty anyway.”

“You wish,” He exhaled slowly through the nose, his nostrils flaring as he tried to contain his boiling anger and not wake all the neighborhood up, “This ain’t fun, Rat. Get the fuck out of the pool right now.”

“Come and get me then.” You challenged him with a finger gun gesture.

“I don’t think you understand you stupid brat. Do you realize that what you’re doing is illegal?”

“Yeah.” You giggled.

“And that you could be in fookin’ trouble for it?”

“Yeaaaah!” You exclaimed, pale eyes shimmering with excitement and recklessness so childish it baffled the poor soldier. Taken aback by your behavior, Arthur blinked several time as he looked at you — Somehow he should have known that you weren’t going to obey him. After all, he could tell from your chapped lips and always bloody knees that you were everything but a nice little girl. No, you were an unhinged little shit and he liked it despite everything, “so? Do you really wanna catch me ‘cause I’m getting bored.”

“Okay, I’m done.” The soldier quickly took off his sweatpants to be in underwear and, with a nimbleness you didn’t suspect, dived into the pool. Engulfed by the water, Arthur had disappeared amidst the bluish light and the rippling tiles at the bottom of the pools. All you could see was a quick silhouette coming at you with what seemed to be the speed of a torpedo.

“Oh no, no, no!” Before you could do something, two large and calloused hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you under the water, leaving you just the time time to take a deep inhale before getting swallowed by a chlorine tide. All your vision turned into a blur for a brief but intense second, chaos taking the form of confusing bubbles and foam until everything stopped. Reopening your eyes under the water, you found yourself transported in a parallel world in which a tranquil hush enveloped your senses. With each graceful stroke, you embraced the weightless sanctuary, finding solace in the quiet depths of the pool, where worries dissolved, and the rhythmic pulse of water echoed a soothing lullaby powerful enough to shut the insufferable screeching of both sickening memories and psychotic thoughts. Surprisingly enough, Arthur wasn’t there — or at least he wasn’t in sight. All you could see was an odd combination of bluish tiles and underwater spotlights that created a surprisingly serene and liminal landscape. It seemed like the cool water had the same calming effects upon the soldier, for when you turned around at the feeling of fingers gently brushing your ribs you were met with a playful smirk. Raising an eyebrow, you gently shove him before trying to escape several times but he inevitably caught you. A small bubble escaped from your lips as you tried not to laugh, amused by how Arthur made both of you slowly spin under the water, as a jolly sailor waltzing with her mermaid lover. With your bodies moving elegantly together, halfway between dancing and gently fighting, your fingers cupped his face. Despite the underwater hush, Arthur’s interrogation is visible through the way one of his eyebrows arched when he saw your face getting dangerously closer to his. Closer. Closer. Until your mouth finally crashed against his. Arthur’s eyes widened in shock, pupils suddenly dilating under the effect of adrenaline when the warmth of your mouth found his. The peck was brief, so brief he wondered if he hadn’t hallucinated it but it was enough for him to lose control of everything. His body softened, letting you a short moment to break free from his playful embrace. Offering a last wink, you trashed your legs to come back to the surface and took a deep inhale. As the warm air of the night filled your lungs, a strange state of calmness possessed you a with it followed a genuinely amused giggle at the remembering of Arthur’s surprised expression. The man broke from underwater a few seconds after you, quickly sliding his hair back with his hands before swimming to you, eyebrows knitted together and lips sewn tight in a thin line.

“What did ya do?” He rasped, his steady breathing rendered irregular for his heart raced in his chest. The taste of your sweet yet damaged lips was still tingling on his skin.

“What are you talking about?” You pouted even though you didn’t make a peculiar effort to hide your amusement. “Hey!” The complaint fell from your mouth when his strong arms wrapped around your waist to press your body against his. A wave of fire spread through your being.

“Do it again.” Arthur could barely believe he just said that and yet he did and now that it was too late, he decided to go for it and see what would happen. Taking advantage of your surprise, he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing the soft skin sprinkled with tiny droplets of water similar to translucent pearls engraved in your flesh. A delightful thrill crossed through your body as his beard scratched your skin -- A thrill that soon turned into a wave of heat that made you feel feverish.

“Do what?” Your fierce and loud voice was merely a whisper as your cheeks flushed red, as red as the blood simmering in your veins. You might have been slightly confused by the situation but your bandaged fingers seemed to know what to do when they lost themselves in his wet hair to slick it back with a tenderness you never knew you possessed.

“Kiss me.” The low rumble made your own soul quake. Punctuating his sentence with actions, the soldier's face left your neck to lean his forehead against yours. In this whirlwind of emotions and arousal, you batted your eyelashes while drowning in the dark blue of his eyes and wondered if they had always been this charming. What happened next none of you could tell for any thoughts left disappeared. Mouths grazed each other, the two of them timidly discovering the shape and details without daring to break the few inches remaining. Soft lips against chapped ones, and against all expectations the rougher pair was yours. How could such an unsufferable and brutal little minx like you feel so fragile in his scarred hands? A frail moan escaped from your mouth at the blissful sensation of the soldier's hips moving with yours at the water’s discretion and, for once, you weren't ashamed of it. With your underwear fabric sticking to your skin and bodies closely interlocked, you could both feel every intimate detail and shape, gently and sensually grinding against each other due to the flow... Or maybe the flow wasn't the cause and you were both actively asking for more, who knew? Arthur growled again, for even in the cold water of the pool the warmth between your legs made him weak and far too aware that you yearned for him.

"No, you kiss me first you coward." You tried to sound mean but your voice could produce nothing but an enamored tone.

"Ah, shut up Rat." Arthur softly bit your lower lip, trapping the juicy flesh between his teeth and pulling it a little bit. The taste of anticipation lingered in the air, mingling with the heady scent of perfume, chlorine, and the warmth of intertwined breaths.

"Go on then, shut me up..." And your wish became his command. His warm tongue gave a faint lick on your lower lips just to taste the water, almost too shyly for the man he was. Then a second one and a third, and as he did he kept his hands busy by slipping them under your panties. His large palms conquered your buttcheeks and then pressed on your flesh to bring your core closer to his until you could clearly feel how enthusiastic he was to have you so close. In reply, your fingers hung at the hem of his boxer, slightly pulling them down to disclose his V-line. In the secluded haven of the dimly lit swimming pool, the water's gentle caress enveloped both of you as you shared this moment suspended in time. Arthur's patience finally reached its limits and pressed his lips against yours for another chlorine kiss you were both eager to deepen. A kiss that felt like a car crash and still sounded like water lapping and the rhythmic beat of hearts. It could have been perfect if Arthur hadn't back up suddenly, eyes wide open at the sight of a car's headlight in the house's alley.

“Out of the pool, now!” He exclaimed, hauling himself from the water quickly to grab the bottle of whisky, then his pants before seizing your wrist to lift you from the pool.

"HOLY SHIT!" Adrenaline rushed through your body, momentarily shutting down everything except your flight instinct. That was how you both ended up dashing across the garden half-naked and completely soaked up. Fortunately enough, you both managed to climb the fence and lock yourselves into the house, banging the door so close that poor Hannibal jumped from the sofa and barked. Time stopped for a while, the two of you with your back leaning against the door and trying to catch your erratic breath, bodies dripping with water. A heavy silence floated in the corridor, only broken by the sound of your own heart drumming in your ears. And then, you heard it... It started with a little nervous giggle and then it became a loud and gravelly laughter. Despite the whole panic, you were soon infected by a fit of hilarity too, your aching heart drowning in a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time: joy in its purest and most innocent form.

♠️ 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.

♠️ Tag list: @cljordan-imperium @1nterstellarcha0s @raincoffeeandfandoms @babaohhhriley @zablife

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #Arthur Shelby imagine #Arthur Shelby x you #arthur shelby x y/n #Paul Anderson #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #arthur shelby x oc

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

Text

A Secret, a Fear and a Hatbox ~ dad!Tommy Shelby (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: With his wife away, Tommy feels more helpless than ever at the change of behaviour in his children

Note: Written for @look-at-the-soul and her 900 follower celebration: I hope you enjoy!

Warning: unrealistic dog behaviour

Wordcount: 3076 words

Of course, Tommy thought.

Of course, something would be wrong with his children in the one week of the year when his wife was out of the house, worse: un - fucking - reachable.

Ada be damned, for wanting to take all the women of the family minus Linda over to America for a week.

They were on their way back now, but that didn’t help.

While she was on that boat, Tommy couldn’t reach her and ask her if (1) she knew what was up, (2) how he could find out what was up and (3) how he could resolve whatever was up.

And that would be another three days, eight hours and forty-seven minutes, at least according to the advertising of the cruise company.

He shut the lid of his pocket watch with a sigh and slipped it back into his pocket.

Maybe, he thought as he reached for the whisky, he was simply overthinking.

He had never been alone with the children before, well technically he wasn’t now, with Frances and the maids, but he was the only parent around.

Despite their astronomical rise, she had resented the idea of a nanny, and shuddered at the thought of a nursery maid, and Tommy had agreed.

He didn’t mind other people cooking his food and ironing his shirts, but a near stranger holding his children, changing them, bathing them, rocking them to sleep?

Someone who wasn’t blood? Who wasn’t family?

Occasionally, he could tolerate the thought, but as normality?

Absolutely not.

Something tribal in him prevented the entertainment of such an idea, but that left him in the tight spot of now shouldering the responsibility for the two in her absence.

For all his faults, he had noticed the change in his children.

It had started well enough, but after a few days, it had all shifted.

Usually, Betty would be the essence of decorum, more perfect in every way than one of the children in the catalogues, as if she was born in a place like Arrow House and not, unlike her brother, in Watery Lane.

But she wolfed down her food like her little brother did, and requested to leave the table while still chewing.

That had never happened before, even at Christmas, or on Birthdays.

And little Georgie, well, usually it nearly took force or bribery to get him to stay indoors, always climbing trees and tending to the horses, but now he was his sister’s constant shadow, and as silent as one too.

His head snapped up as he heard the rhythm of little feet on the grand staircase which led right past his office, and hushed voices too, even though they were too soft for him to make out the words.

With a sigh he pushed his chair back and crossed his office in long strides. When he pulled the door open, he saw both Betty and Georgie already halfway though the entrance hall - with Betty carrying a large white box in her hands.

When Georgie saw him, he gasped and grabbed his older sister’s arm, his eyes wide in horror.

Betty turned, saw him, gulped and then offered him the sweetest of smiles.

“Hello Daddy!”, she chirped as bright as the early summer sun. “I’m so sorry if we were loud. We were just going outside for some fresh air.”

“And what’s that then, eh?”, he asked, nodding to the box.

It seemed vaguely familiar but on closer inspection, he remembered that the dark green accents were that of the London Hatmaker he had sent her to before taking her to the races a few years back.

“Are you playing with your mother’s clothes?”, he wanted to know.

“I’m sure she won’t mind!”, Betty said at once, her hands tightening around the box.

“Oh she’ll mind when you get stains on it.”

That hat had been expensive, paying not just for the craftsmanship or material, but double for the name.

She had been furious about the price, he remembered, but it had been worth it. They were moving up in the world, and that meant moving on beyond the little shops at the Bull Ring in Birmingham.

“I’ll take great care.”, Betty promised. “Goodbye now.”

With that, for her, the conversation was over.

Tommy shifted, glanced back at his office door and cleared his throat.

“I’ve got a few more papers to go through and then I can join you.”, he suggested. After all, he had hoped to spend some time with his children while their mother was away.

“Take out the horses, or the cart, how about that George?”

He could see it already, him and George driving that cart up and down the roads leading to and from Arrow House, with little darling Betty lounging beside them in one of her mother’s gigantic hats. That is, until she’d get the idea to jump on a pony’s back and try to outrace them.

To his surprise, George shook his head. “Perhaps some time else.”, Betty agreed.

That stung more than Tommy thought it would, and so he tried again.

“Why’s that then, eh?”, he wanted to know, cautiously coming closer.

“We’re very busy.”, his daughter said sharply. “Busy?”, Tommy asked as his brows threatened to vanish in his hairline.

“What have you two got to be busy about?”

George looked caught out and stared at his feet, but Betty was unfazed.

“Children’s matters, Daddy. You wouldn’t understand.”

With that, she turned, her hair and the ribbon that held it in place, fluttering behind her.

“Come along now Georgie.”, she instructed, and with that off they went, leaving Tommy alone in the hall.

He watched them leave and tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he returned to his office.

He knew he worked long and hard, but he did it to give them everything. Still, every single time his wife had reminded him he ought to spend more time with them, with his family, rattled around in his head, as memories of every event, excursion or trip he had cancelled his participation in came back to haunt him.

He was there, for every birthday, for Christmases and Easter, even if he occasionally slipped away to his office for some work, and almost every performance?

He taught to ride and how to care for horses.

He kissed them goodnight every time he could and didn’t shy away from embraces and hugs.

Still, what if it wasn’t enough to make up for all he had missed.

What of all the family memories they had acquired were less due to him and solely due to his wife? That picnic at the lake? That trip to the sea?

In truth, he had expected that with their mother away, the children would flock to him the way they did when he returned from work, wanting to spend as much time with him as they usually did with her.

He had thought he would have to distract them in order to get a few moments alone in the office and not that his seven year old would order his return there to be rid of him.

But perhaps his children had gotten so used to his absence that his presence no longer made a difference to him.

That idea hurt, and he wished more than ever to pick up that stupid telephone hearer and demand his wife be summoned to the other side. If he couldn’t feel the warmth of her hands and the softness of her embrace to soothe his worries, her voice alone would have to do.

Three days, eight hours and fourteen minutes.

No, he would try again, he thought and hurried outside.

The swing was empty, the trees void of all invaders, and the green without anyone playing croquet or catch or hoops or anything, really.

And when he’d ask a gardener, he was told that Betty and George had formed a procession all the way behind the hedge, stayed there for a moment, and then returned to the house the same way they had done.

“Well, not exactly, Sir.”, the gardener had told him, rubbing his sun-tanned forehead. “They took the servant’s entrance, they did.”

That was the one that didn’t go through the hall and thereby avoided passing his office.

Fuck, Tommy thought and lit a cigarette on the way back.

In the coming hours he couldn’t focus on the reports, the letters and papers. He couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that his children clearly and undoubtedly were avoiding him, and that at a time when they should have come running.

When Frances asked him if he would like to join his children at their dinner, a formality, since he usually tried to if he could, he declined.

After a whole case of cigarettes, his appetite was gone anyhow.

That made him feel like a coward.

He should talk to them, should try to do better, to make up for the lost time, but a debilitating weight had draped over his shoulders and the one person to lift it was still on a boat crossing the Atlantic.

Three days, four hours and two minutes.

She’d know what to do, how to fix it.

She always did, like with Georgie’s ear infections of Betty’s coughs, or his own headaches. From somewhere in the back of her mind and the depths of her cabinets, she’d find a magical cure to make things right.

But until she returned, he was all on his own and he had never felt lonelier.

When Frances told him the children were headed for bed, it was as if he had been called to his own execution.

He knew that feeling, had felt it more than once, so it wasn’t an exaggeration.

The night nursery was right next to their shared bedroom, something they had both wanted, for their children to be close.

When he entered, they were already tucked in, Betty on the right, Georgie on the left.

“All ready for bed?”, he asked.

Both nodded.

“Would you like a story?”, he asked, glancing over his shoulder to the bookshelf, his eyes lingering on the Tales of Robin Hood - Georgie’s favourite.

For a split second he saw a glint in his eyes, but then he slammed his jaw shut and shook his head.

“No thank you!”, Betty said, leaning forward and presenting her cheek to him.

With a sigh, Tommy leaned in and kissed her goodnight, proceeding to do the same with Georgie.

At the door, he turned, and looked back at them both who were watching with wide eyes, as if they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

“You know,”, he mumbled, his hands clutching the door knob until his knuckles turned white, as he tried to find the words.

It wasn’t too difficult, he thought, just tell them you love them, Tom

Whether it was his voice or his wife’s, he could not say.

But before the words had a chance to pass his lips, he heard a shuffle.

Then Betty was on her feet. “Right!”, she said loudly, giving him a gentle shove. “Goodnight, Daddy, goodnight!”

This insistence was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it, so he just stared.

Then he heard it again. The shuffle.

But it wasn’t coming from Georgie’s bed on the left, nor her now deserted bed on the right, but from the wardrobe across from it.

“What’s that?”, he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“What’s what?”, Betty asked, batting her eyelashes.

At the same time, Georgie said: “It’s nothing.”

When they realised what they had done, Betty blushed and Georgie paled.

Slowly, Tommy looked from one to the other. “You’ve got to the count of three to tell me what’s in there!”, he demanded, seriously considering if he could head back to his bedroom and reach for the bedside drawer to retrieve his gun.

Neither one of his children made a move to speak and so the three counts passed without a reaction.

“Daddy!”, Betty warned, tugging at his sleeve as he pushed past her and towards the wardrobe.

He opened it and was met with - clothes.

Betty’s dresses and skirts, all hanging in a neat, tidy row, an explosion of pastels and floral prints.

Then he heard it again, the shuffle and scratching and when he looked down, towards the boxes of shoes and hats, he noticed one large one atop a smaller one, the lid slightly ajar.

With one flick, he sent the lid flying, ready for anything.

“Fu-”

He caught himself just in time as he saw the content.

It was a dog, he realised after staring at it for a few heartbeats, even if it was in size far closer than a cat, and even smaller than one too, with pointed ears and dark, clear eyes.

He looked away, then down again, before turning to his children.

“Why -” the absolute fuck “is there a dog in your nursery?”

“Mummy!”, Georgie quickly said.

“Mummy?”, Tommy asked.

Georgie nodded, but he didn’t miss the way Betty stared at him in surprise.

That told him it was a lie, but Georgie went further.

“Daddy, you know Mummy doesn’t like the horses as much as we do, so we thought a dog will make her happy.”

Another lie, or rather an impressively tall tale to cover up, but it didn't change the fact that he was staring at a dog, small or not, who was very much alive and who's mere existence in this moment required a reaction.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't holding the box, he sat down on the foot of Georgie's bed and stared at the intruder.

"And instead of asking for a dog,", he sighed, "you two…nicked one? Stole one?"

He wouldn't put it past them. Georgie had the guts and Betty the wits to pull it off.

Made evident by the fact that they had snuck it past him for the devil knows how long.

"Oh don’t be silly Daddy,", Betty giggled. "There was no time to ask."

Wasn't there, Elizabeth Shelby? He wanted to ask, but Georgie came to his sister's defence.

"When I found him he was all wet and shaking and he crawled into my coat, right here!"

He rubbed his side where his upper arms brushed against the side of his torso.

"And when was that?", Tommy wanted to know, sounding as tired, old and helpless as he felt.

Georgie looked to Betty who gave a shrug of resignation.

"When we were at Uncle Charlie's. We were playing Coppers and Blinders and I found him tied up in one of the caves."

The pup wouldn't have been put there by Charlie or Curly.

Charlie had his faults, but he preferred animals to humans and Curly, well, he couldn't harm a fly even with a gun to his head.

And the caves, as Georgie called them, were the places they stored boxes of goods before sending them up it down the Cut.

But that time at Charlie's Yard had been two days ago.

"How has he not made a mess yet?", He asked, seriously hoping that they wouldn't stumble on a far worse surprise under a carpet or in the corner of a cupboard.

Then he realised - the hat box.

The children must've smuggled him in and out time and time again, right under his and all the servants' noses.

Betty sat down next to him, covering his hand with her little one, soft as rose petals.

"He's been so very good and he hasn't even disturbed you with barking, has he?", She asked, batting her eyelashes up at him. "No trouble at all."

Tommy sighed, already knowing where she was intent on going.

"You can't keep a dog in the nursery, Elizabeth."

Besides, he'd probably have lice or worms.

Fuck

If his wife came back from America and the children had lice, there’d be hell to pay.

Betty stroked his hand again.

“We’d be ever so sad if we’d have to give him away now.”, she told him. “We’d cry for days and days, won’t we Georgie?”

“I don’t cry!”, he argued, puffing up his chest.

And yet when his sister glared at him, he quickly shifted gears.

“But I-I would, if you’d make us give him up.”

That appeased his sister, who gave him a pleased nod before turning back to their father. “So either a sea of tears, Daddy, or we take one my prettiest ribbons and tie it around his neck and make Mummy the happiest Lady in the whole world when she comes back.”

Tommy rubbed his temple once more.

Although he was beyond relieved that he found the reason for his children’s shift in behaviour, this caused a whole host of problems.

He didn’t want a dog.

They didn’t need a dog. Besides, this wasn’t even a proper dog who could guard a house, chase away an intruder or catch a rabbit.

But he also knew that the threat of tears wasn’t just an empty promise.

Knowing Betty and her antics, she’d probably throw herself at her mother’s feet the moment she came into view, and that Georgie wouldn’t be far behind.

And as a betting man, he knew his way around odds.

“No.”, he said, looking from one to the other.

“What?”, Betty gasped, her large eyes filling with tears, while George erupted into a cascade of protests.

He raised his hands for silence, but struggled to get it, and when he did, both his children pouted.

“You’re not putting this on your mother.”, he said sharply, pointing at them both. “If you want this dog to stay, he will be your responsibility and you’ll take care of him. You will walk him. You will wash him. You will feed him and if he pisses on the floor, you will clean it up, is that understood?”

George nodded eagerly, but Betty hesitated. “But we will have help, no?”, she asked. “After all, he’ll have to go to the vet some time and Georgie and I can’t drive. And we aren’t allowed to touch the cleaning products either.”

Sneaky menace, Tommy thought, not without pride.

She had inherited his wits and his wife’s way with words and always found a loophole in absolutely anything, and she had caught him out once again.

He nodded.

Betty looked to Georgie, who was grinning from ear to ear and nodded eagerly.

Then, on behalf of them both, she spat into her palm and stretched it out to him, a triumphant smile on her lips.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Daer Mar, I hope you enjoyed this story! Once more congratulations on your milestone and celebration and all my best to you and your little friend!

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