#arthur shelby angst

[shelbyssins]

White Tulip ~ Arthur Shelby x F!Reader

A/N: This is rated 18+ for mature themes. This is my contribution to @runnning-outof-time's 3K follower celebration "Tales From the Flower Garden". The prompt I chose was “I don't mind what you have to do… I won't think less of you”. I'm so happy with how this turned out and I'm excited for you all to read my first Arthur story! He's my baby and I'm really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. This takes place somewhere in S3 in the countryside. As always, if you read this, please let me know what you think! - Rosie x

Warnings: Mature themes, hurt/comfort

Arthur sat in his and Y/n's garden, an isolated meadow that stretched into farmland just beyond their fence. He was surrounded by wild flowers of seemingly every colour and variety, the stems bending in the breeze, petals stroking his hands where they lay at the sides of his legs. The night was warm, not even a hint of a chill in the air, and the sky was inky blue despite the late hour. There was no pollution in the countryside, unlike the ever present fog in Birmingham, so the moon shone bright pale light onto Arthur's face and reflected into the pond just beyond their willow tree.

Arthur looked at the bottle of whiskey he had brought onto the grass with him, the cork still intact and the liquor still untasted. His mind wandered back to a promise he'd made to his beautiful Y/n that he would quit the alcohol, quit every one of his vices if it meant he could be with her for longer. His hands caressed a patch of grass as he recalled what had happened after that conversation, how the smell of wild flowers clung to Y/n's skin as he laid her down in the meadow and left kisses all over her body, how beautiful she looked as they made love under the spring sun.

He heard the soft beat of footsteps against the grass and lifted his heavy head to gaze at his love. Y/n was wearing nothing but a silken nightgown, her legs and feet both bare as she sat down next to Arthur. Her hair, which was usually pinned up in intricate styles, hung loosely over her shoulders, some strands dancing in the warm breeze. Arthur thought for a terrible moment that he might cry at the sight of her, his beautiful angel under the pale moon.

He reached for her instantly, as if she was the only thing keeping him from floating away. Y/n felt his hands shaking despite the summer warmth as she carded her fingers through his un-styled hair. She watched with sad eyes as the lines on his face that she loved to trace with her delicate fingers deepened when he squeezed his eyes shut, trying fruitlessly to hide his tears from her.

Y/n smiled softly, cupping his cheek as she whispered to him, "Stop that, you know you don't have to hide your emotions from me, Arthur."

Arthur recalled, then, how difficult it was when he and Y/n first started to go out, how hard Y/n had tried to train Arthur out of the bad habits he learned from Tommy. Only recently had he started to open the door on his past traumas so that Y/n could get in; at the start of their relationship he refused her comfort. Once, he'd even thrown a glass at Y/n when her gentle hands were too overwhelming and he'd never forgiven himself, even though she had forgiven him a thousand times. The memory brought the shame right back to him, acidic guilt rising up his throat.

Arthur looked to the skies for falling stars, so that maybe all of the bad thoughts and poisonous memories could be carried away with his one desperate wish.

Arthur could feel himself properly going over board for the first time since he and Y/n had moved away from Birmingham. The weight in his mind was pushing him deeper and deeper under the relentless waves of anger and worthlessness, so heavy that he was terrified he'd pull Y/n under with him.

"What's wrong, my love?" Y/n asked gently, she could see all of Arthur's emotions flashing through his eyes like a picture book, she knew his silence never meant good things.

"Tommy," He whispered back, as if afraid that mentioning his name would somehow summon his brother.

"What about him, darling?" Y/n replied, the pet names rolling easily off her tongue as she knew Arthur loved to be loved, that he needed reminding at all times she was still his.

"He asked for me... To go back to Birmingham. Needs help with business, but you and I both know what he really wants from me," Arthur clenched his fists in the grass to articulate his point, the pale scars littering his knuckles glowing silvery in the moonlight.

"I know he'll put me straight back in the field, in the ring where I know he needs me," Arthur continues, that unmistakable waver in his voice when he was trying not to break down, "I know I'll kill whatever new enemy he's made if that's what he wants me to do,"

Y/n brushed her thumb over the back one of Arthur's battle-marred hands, trying to quell the pounding of her heart. She knew about his past and accepted all that came with it, but that didn't change how unpleasant it was to imagine her husband condemning a man to his death.

"I can try to pretend it's not who I am but... Y/n, me 'ead stops hurtin' when me fists start bleedin'," Arthur said, a fresh wave of unshed tears welling up in his eyes, "If Tommy asks me to fight, I won't let 'em get up from the count,"

Y/n scrunched her eyes closed, squeezing Arthur's hand to somehow let him know she understood.

"You could tell him you're not going back," She whispered, already knowing what his answer would be, Shelbys and their loyalty weren't to be questioned.

"You and I both know I won't do that, Y/n," Arthur replied, his clenched hands ripping the grass out at the roots.

Arthur dug his damp palms into his eyes as his tears finally spilled over, "I - I can feel hell fire blazing at my feet, Y/n, and the closer I get to going back to the Blinders, the more me mind burns up," He sobbed, roughly hitting himself in the temples to emphasise his words. Y/n laced her fingers through Arthur's own large, calloused ones in an attempt to stop him from hurting himself. The terrified rage in his eyes seemed to drain as he softly gripped Y/n's hand in his, "I love you, Y/n. I can't let you burn with me,"

Y/n smiled softly despite Arthur's panicked spiel. She picked a flower from the beautiful plant bed she had sown herself one day when Arthur was out. She tucked it into the breast pocket of his thin linen shirt, a white tulip to symbolise her anticipatory forgiveness.

"Oh, Arthur, I don't mind what you have to do… I won't think less of you," She whispered, as if afraid that speaking any louder would make him run.

Y/n pressed a soft kiss to Arthur's temple, reddened where he had abused the skin earlier, and she took his war-toughened face into her small hands, holding him so gently it was as if she was cradling the whole world in her grasp.

"I love you so much," She began, shushing Arthur softly when he tried to interject, "You don't have to understand why I love you, you just have to accept it. If your choice is to do whatever Tommy is asking of you, I'll still love you when it's done. I chose this life with you long before you turned your back on who you were in Birmingham. I fell in love with you when you were still proud to be a Peaky Blinder, you can't scare me off with talk of hell now, my love," She resumed carding her fingers through Arthur's soft hair, his eyes had closed somewhere during her speech and his breathing was so even and calm she might have thought him asleep.

Arthur opened his eyes again when Y/n's fingers stilled and she was once again struck at the love she saw in his eyes, so pure and unfiltered that it was almost too much for her to bear.

"And besides," Y/n spoke again, "Surely if I'm journeying into death with you, I couldn't possibly be anywhere else but heaven,"

Arthur's tears spilled freely then, down his cheeks in paths that glinted like the first spark in a flame.

"Just promise me you'll let me be around to patch you up, even if you're not physically hurt," Y/n whispered as Arthur nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.

He laid his head down in Y/n's lap, the skirt of her night gown cool on his hot skin, "Let's stay out 'ere for a while," Arthur rasped after a moment of silence, pouting his lips slightly to ask for a kiss.

He tried to pour all of the love he had in his body for Y/n into the soft touching of their lips; he knew there were no words that have ever or will ever exist to describe his feelings for her. They stayed like that, gently laid in the blooms as they kissed, until Arthur felt the crushing weight in his head disappear. When they eventually pulled apart, Y/n graced him with her brilliant smile and wiped away a stray tear he didn't know he'd shed with her thumb.

Arthur gazed back up at the dark sky, the thousands of stars that glittered there just for them couldn't ever compare to the light Y/n brought to his life. Even in a garden of beautiful flowers, Arthur thought Y/n was still the most radiant being by a mile.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #arthur shelby #peaky blinders fic rec #peaky blinders x reader #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #Arthur Shelby fluff #Arthur Shelby angst #Arthur Shelby fan fic #Arthur Shelby fic rec #Tommy Shelby

[jomarch-wannabe]

Daylight (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader)

Pairings: Arthur Shelby x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst (Heavy depiction of addiction and drug use, tears, mental distress) Mention of religious themes (biblical references and God)

Synopsis: The only monster Arthur cannot kill is the one inside of himself

Author’s note: Inspired by the song, ‘Daylight’ by David Kushner. As I listened to it I thought it would work well in a fic with Arthur. The words hit really hard for me and I feel like they blend into his constant battle of good and evil. One that we all have really.

——————————————————————————

After a round of drinks at The Garrison, Arthur found himself in the vacant betting shop, blindly shuffling through his office desk in the dimly lit space. He was running from the daylight. Hiding in the privacy of darkness. It was the only hour where he could be free, where no one could see him in his mess.

Shaky hands worked the drawers open in an urgent pace, stopping once he found it. His blue eyes glistened in satisfaction, as if seeing a beautiful woman.

With a congested throat clear he fell back into his chair, placing the object in front of him.

A tiny vial of white powder stared back at him, glowing in an enticing cast of moonlight pouring through the glass windows.

In contemplation his head fell into his hands, digging at his forehead with his fingers as his eyes flicked over the object of desire. It was his kryptonite. The only thing that could tame the beast lurking inside of him.

Arthur held the reputation of being a confident, self assured street gangster who was fazed by nothing. He was an animal. They said. Unfeeling.

But that wasn’t true.

A heavy, dull pain ached in his chest every waking hour. It felt like a weight that he couldn’t shake. A sickness in which there was no cure. His fingers twitched against his skin as memories flashed before him, words of others that haunted him.

Supposed to treat you like a fucking kid again eh? Keep you away from guns and fuckin ropes. Is that it? You think I haven’t got enough on?

That scares me more, yeah. See, that man, right, he will murder and maim for you with God on his side.

Inside of every man there is a devil.

I’m glad I didn’t shoot you, it would have been a kindness.

Vulnerable, pain induced tears rolled down his face as grief washed over him, shaking his shoulders. The hurt. The betrayal. The blame. All he ever needed was someone to listen. Someone to care. Instead he felt guilty, guilty for being a mess. Guilty for the killings. It needed to stop. This was the only way it he could make it stop.

Sniffling, his worn fingers pulled open the cork from the vial, dispersing it’s contents onto the wooden surface.

A shaky breath escaped his mouth as he fought a battle of good and evil in his mind. The intensity of his suffering outweighed the cost of the drug. He told himself it’s the last time.

Removing the blade from his peaky cap, he chopped at the powder, maneuvering it into a straight line. Using an object of inflicting pain to bring himself pleasure. Like himself, a walking contradiction. He wanted to be good, but the same hands that prayed sent men to hell.

His nose brushed the wood as he leaned down, capturing one nostril with his finger. With a forceful inhale the powder pulled into his nasal cavity as he slid his face against the desk.

He coughed at the intrusion, pulling away to let the substance perform. Shallow breaths escaped his parted lips as he closed his eyes, waiting for the ache to dissolve.

The hands of a nearby wall clock ticked in turn with his beating heart. He listened to it, studied its tick, tick, ticking. Each second that passed the weight inside of him felt lighter.

After some time a feeling of relief washed over him, but there was a hint of guilt left lingering, unscathed even by the potent drug.

Fleeing the feeling he slid his chair out from under him, stumbling out of the betting shop.

The damp, vacant street welcomed his tall, staggering figure, clutching onto the brick wall for balance.

As he stepped onto the pavement his eyes flicked to the sky, squinting at the brightness of the moon.

A white church steeple grazed the milky clouds; the sight stirred him, urging him to follow like the shepards with The Star of Bethlehem.

It’s aura beckoned him, guiding him nearer until he found himself at the entrance, breathing heavily against the wooden double doors. The weight of his arm pushed it open in a desperate manner, echoing in the vacant cathedral.

Empty church pews surrounded his stumbling figure, scarcely lit up in orange candlelight from the altar.

Each step he took amplified his pain, growing more vulnerable under the humbling presence of God seeping through the painted ceiling. Anger tore through him. Anger at himself, and at the world. Anger for failing. For giving up.

Reddened eyes flicked over the statue of Jesus, stirring a conviction inside of him. The feeling pulled words from his lips,

“Please forgive me Lord.” His lip trembled as he struggled to keep his emotions inside. “M’sorry I did it again.” Short breaths sucked in his nose before he broke down, weeping in utter brokenness.

“Y’know me heads a mess.” His teary eyes glistened in the flames as he cried. “Need to make it stop.”

His fingers pulled his hair out of his face as he let go, filling the empty hall with painful whimpers.

“Can you spare any mercy that you might find for me wretched soul?”

The gravity of hopelessness and guilt brought him to his knees, collapsing in a mess against the tile floor.

I’m down on my knees again

“There is good in my heart.. but I’m a devil.” He sucked in a breath, letting it out with tears. “I’m a devil.” His shoulders shook as he cried, forming a pool of tears on the floor.

I try to follow your light but it’s nighttime.

——————————————————————————

An urging called you to church. It was a sort of whisper, stirring you from your lounge into the cool night. The street was empty, except for a few beggars sleeping against the walls, cast in an orange glow from the above street lamps.

The wedge of your shoes echoed against the gray pavement with your steps, carrying you towards the dark double doors.

A chilled breath fanned the wood as you found yourself standing in the entrance, struck by the door standing ajar. In curiosity you pushed it open, letting out a low creak. As the warmth of the enclosure enveloped you, a painful muttering of a familiar voice touched your ears.

The sound urged you around the corner, rounding the pews in a concerned pace, finding a huddled up figure on the floor. The head of brown tousled hair made your eyes widen.

“Arthur?”

Your voice was like an angel’s, pulling him into the light from his dark cloud of thoughts.

Hurried steps carried you towards him, increasing your heart rate as you neared him.

With a shaky breath you kneeled beside him, extending a hand to rub over his back. The weight of your hand prompted him to lift his head. He was unrecognizable. As you you took him in, his face blurred as your eyes filled with tears. His eyes were red and swollen. He was distresssed, evident from the grooves running across his forehead and the tousled head of hair from his frustrated fingers.

“Arthur..” your eyelids fluttered, unable to speak as your heart broke.

“I did it again, m’sorry..” he wept in remorse, wrapping his arms around you in search of comfort. There was a pain in his voice, a guilt. Like that of a child awaiting a punishment.

You received him with gentle arms, guiding him into your chest.

“It’s alright Arthur.. it’s alright..” You spoke soothing words into his hair, resting your chin on his head. His warm frame trembled against you as you secured him close.

Arthur was not weak, he was hurting. His addiction wasn’t snow, it was not feeling. It was the only way he knew how to cope.

“Please don’t leave me love,” he cried weakly into your chest, muffled with the fabric of your shirt. “please don’t leave me in the end.” In search of comfort his head nudged into you, holding onto you like you might disappear.

“I’m never going to leave you Arthur.” You assured with every ounce of sincerity you could muster. “Never. I promise.” Your loving fingers caressed his face, catching the tears rolling down his cheeks.

He huffed out a breath of relief against you, savoring the feeling of your gentle fingers on his skin.

“It’s okay,” you pulled his damp hair off his face, stroking his cheek with your thumbs, holding him close. “It’s okay..”

He sniffled with droopy eyes, slowly closing them from your soothing touch.

“This lust,” your eyes wandered in thought, “it’s a burden that we both share. You’re not alone in this battle Arthur. You’re not alone.”

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#Arthur shelby #Paul Anderson #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #Arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby angst #Arthur shelby fluff #Arthur shelby gif #fan fiction #x reader #x you #x you angst #comfort #addiction #oldermen #British men #British actors #peaky fookin blinders #bbc #Netflix #angst

[geeky-politics-46]

I've finished my first Peaky Blinders thing! It's an NSFW Alphabet for Arthur. Also working on one for Tommy, but Arthur is just such a mess I think I love him most. Might do one for Alfie too, because how can you not love him?

Now the question is, do I save them for Kinktober?

#peaky blinders #arthur shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby angst #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby smut #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby x you #peaky blinders fluff #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #paul anderson #cillian murphy #peaky fookin blinders #arthur fooking shelby #hes damaged and i love him #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby fluff #kinktober ideas #alfie solomons #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons fluff

[toms-cherry-trees]

Withered || Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: You have given all the love you have, but love needs to be cared for to bloom

Word Count: 3390

Warnings: Angst, mentions of murder, blood, drug usage and alcoholism

Author’s note: My submission for K’s lovely celebration “Tales From The Flower Garden” with the prompt “You thought I was a savable man” Again CONGRATULATIONS MY SWEET MUNCHKIN K FOR YOUR MILESTONE YOU DESERVE THEM ALL and I put up so much of me for this to makeup for my failure for your last celebration that I even put together some pics to make it more in theme. Love ya lots darling!

The loose petals heaped around your feet upon the wooden floors. Pink, peach, pure white and cream. You had been toiling over that floral arrangement for hours, but your tenseness and your wandering thoughts had robbed you of your concentration, jittering hands having reduced the soft buds to denuded and wilted stems. Behind you, the antique grandfather clock’s bells chimed, taunting you with the unforgiving pass of time, which seemed to move twice as fast that night. The black carved hands marked midnight on the golden clock face. Arthur had promised to be home in time for dinner.

The table remained set in the dining room, the fine silverware and dishware all laid out, perfectly polished, awaiting for those who would not sit at the table that night. The candles had melted halfway through before you had the heart to blow them out. A crystal vase held a marvellous bouquet of your best roses, red and white in full bloom. A red petal had come loose and laid over the white tablecloth like a blotch of spilled blood. 

The housekeeper came to you at least five times, inquiring how much longer the cook should wait to warm up the plates and prepare the rest of the dishes. You kept dragging on what you already knew until a quarter past ten, when you instructed her to bring you a cup of tea and some biscuits only, and to have the staff dine on everything that had been prepared already. At least the food would not go to waste.

You continued to fiddle unceasingly with the weakened stems, hoping that arranging them in a certain way would hide the ruin of the flowers, perfection on the outside to hide the ruin behind. But it was a hopeless cause, and no amount of skill or attention could undo the disaster. 

In a rapture of frustration you smacked the vase violently, as if that piece of green tinted porcelain had become the source of all your discontent. The ornament crashed down obstreperously, sending sharp shards and greenery in every direction of your sitting room. The fury morphed into panic, and you quickly swept the evidence of your riotous act behind the drapes; much like you swept your woes under the carpet to be hidden until you forcibly stumbled upon them again, having blissfully forgotten their existence when not faced with them. 

That fleeting but fierce outburst helped decompress your anger like steam escaping from a teapot, leaving you empty and strangely deflated. All energies left you abruptly, and your legs threatened to buckle under the weight of your body and your worries. You slumped backwards, half sitting, half crashing into a nearby armchair. Your tired eyes went over the spilled water staining the floorboards white, the astray pieces of vase and leaves you had not picked up, and the dent left in the wood by the crashing porcelain. Slowly, gradually like a withering carnation, your body began to slouch, until your elbows rested on your knees and your chin buried in your chest, face hidden in your trembling hands, muffling a saddening mixture of sobs and heavy sighs. 

The clock in the corner chimed again. 

You did not move until a familiar sound snapped you out of your trance. Wheels on the gravel of the driveway, and the steady rumbling of a car engine. The mess of your hair, the wrinkles in your dress, your sweaty neck and the painful stiffness of your joints were compelling proof that you had fallen asleep in the chair. The sky outside had faded from a pitch black to a dark and stormy grey, uncommon but not impossible in those early days of spring. Birds chirped outside, the chickens and roosters cackled in their pens behind the house, and the dogs howled and jumped about to welcome your husband home. A house full of life, while you felt just like a hollow carcass. 

The front door creaked open. Normally you would be quick on your feet to greet Arthur home with a kiss on the cheek, while he would circle your waist with his slender arm and pepper your face with kisses, tickling you with his brush moustache and making you giggle like a schoolgirl in love for the first time. You’d take his coat and cap while he asked about your day, and you would fill him in with small talk about the farm, your painting and drawing and the latest tales from your two young children, William and Helene, with a third one due to join the family in the summer. Arthur would compliment the beauty and the aroma of the new floral arrangements you had crafted to decorate the various rooms of your home, even though he did not understand one bit what he talked about, but he knew how much the simple praises filled your heart. And all would be well.

But things had changed and so had you.

Arthur tried to enter the house silently, as if by making no noise he would just easily slip by and you would miraculously forget yet another broken promise. You peered around the corner in time to see him tiptoeing around the creaking boards, shoes in hand and drenched in what you presumed to be blood from head to toe. Perhaps you should have been worried, and in another time you would have been anyway, but you knew better; that blood belonged to others. Others he had slain with his own hand in the night he promised to be home early for dinner. 

Soon his eyes found you, standing in the foyer all dishevelled, eyes dulled by exhaustion and the corners of your lips downturned by disappointment. Your silent presence surprised him enough for him to drop his shoes, back straightening tight like a low rank soldier facing his war general. He wrung his cap in his hands nervously, his moustache quivering with the anxious flitter of his lips as he mumbled a hundred different apologies so fast and so quietly that it sounded like a low humming, words tumbling over each other as he tried to find the right thing to say to excuse the inexcusable. At last he fell silent, head dropped low, ears braced and heart clenched in anticipation of the impending arrival of your wrath upon him, raining like hellfire, a penance he knew he deserved for his transgression.

But the words never came.

The seconds passed and silence reigned the scene, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the whistle of the breeze entering through the ajar door. After an unbearable pause, Arthur looked up just enough to examine your expression, almost expecting you to be branding a fire poker, arm raised to strike. But the scene before him turned out to be much worse, and he wished he had not looked.

You looked so broken. So defeated. Your shoulders slumped, eyes reddened, aged decades in hours by worry and anger and sadness. Arthur hated your unhappiness more than anything in this world, yet he continues to be the source of all your grievances, then become racked by guilt, apologise and make half hearted promises of improvement that inevitably end broken, only to repeat the cycle over and over again.

Your husband stepped tentatively, forward, a hand raised as if to touch you, but halfway deciding not to push his luck and letting it fall to his side “Poppy” He murmurs, using his favourite pet name for you in honour of your favourite flower. You can hear the edge of regret in his voice, matched by the sorrowful expression upon his face. But you cannot swallow your rightful feelings to coddle his own.

“Save it” You waved your hand in exasperation, moving past him and out the door, not allowing him a chance to stop you.

Your wandering steps took you to your flower garden. In the first months of your marriage, when the future looked rose tinted and joyful and every day felt like a new honeymoon, Arthur had the best gardeners and flower experts come to your newly purchased estate to plant it for you and teach you how to care best for each individual breed, all of that just to celebrate your first month of union. Roses, poppies, carnations, lilies of the valley and forget-me-nots composed the rows of fragrant flower beds, their perfume mixing in the air with the scent of damp earth and grass. 

In the warmer months the garden filled with life, bees and butterflies fluttering about the vibrant buds, drinking the sweet nectar while your children admired them with wide eyed wonder. You loved to have picnics there, all the family lounging in an old blanket with a basket prepared by your loving hands with everyone’s favourite snacks. Arthur loved to lay his head in your lap during your pregnancies, his cheek pressed against the rounded bump and whispering hushed promises to the baby against your skin, never letting you in on the details of those secret conversations. The world looked so vibrant and lively, all filled with brightness and hopefulness and happiness; sheer, untrammelled happiness. 

But now grey skies hovered above you, the insects had hidden and the joy had passed. The world felt veiled in grey, dull and lifeless; even your cherished flowers having lost their shine. You walked through the rows of greenery, pulling your cardigan closer to your frame. A gelid drizzle began to fall, but you felt such cold from within that the droplets on your skin went unnoticed. The breeze grew stronger, loosened flower petals drifting across the ground and being swept away, some weakened flower stems snapping and falling at your feet. If left to the elements and not nurtured properly, the flowers withered and died. 

Just like love.

On one of the bushes, a flower stood out to you. A perfect pearly white rose in full bloom, rows upon rows of soft petals spread open and exuding a sweet aroma. The beads of water gathering on the folds gave it a special shimmer, as if dotted by little crystals. You reached to pluck it, but a thorn dug into your thumb, drawing a gasp from your lips. When you raised your hand to inspect the damage, a blood drop fell on the flower, the pureness of the white ruined by the crimson liquid. The contrast between your blood and the flower gave you a strange feeling, like an unexplainable tightening in your heart.

A pair of slender hands brushed down your shoulders, sliding over them a thick coat and pulling it close to your frame. It smelled of Arthur’s cologne, and you instinctively snuggled on it, feeling the softness of the fabric against your cheek.

“I hope this is not the blood soaked one you came home in” Your murmured, not turning to face him, instead focused on the bloodied rose.

“No…I grabbed one from the closet in the entrance” You heard the hesitance in his voice “You should go back inside… it’s getting cold and the baby…maybe get to bed with some tea and…” Even without seeing, you knew he was rubbing the back of his head, his face tense in concentration as he tried to read your temper and avoid screwing it up further. But things had already hit rock bottom on your side, so he could only go lower by bringing a shovel.

“I’m fine here” You snapped, arms crossed over your chest, your hands tucked under your armpits to warm your stiffened fingers “I need to be alone”

“Love, think of the baby” Arthur tried to gently guide you away from the flowers, but that gentle and caring touch of his riled you up like a bull before the red cloth. You turned around with such violence he stumbled backwards, appalled by the outburst of his usually sweet and amenable wife.

“I said I want to be alone. I need to be alone to think. Think of why I keep giving you second chances, over and over and over again, when I know you will stomp on them!” Your voice rose several octaves, your outraged words booming throughout the gardens and above the rustle of the wind “One night. Just one night I needed you to stay true to your word. But of course I am met with only disappointment. I always come in second place. We are always an afterthought”

His eyebrows knitted together in a furrow as he stepped forward, his gloved hands cupping your cheeks. You didn’t push away, but your eyes never met his “That is not true. It is not. You are my life, the kids and you are all I have, but Tommy…”

Tommy. Of course. What else could be the reason? Tommy never liked you much, thinking you did nothing more than lead Arthur astray from the family, keeping him tamed and calm when he needed him volatile and angry. But again, Tommy rarely liked anyone other than himself, so you never took the aversion to heart.

“You placed your brother on a pedestal so high that he stands even above the stars, and in your adoration for him you have become blind to the world around you. You would dig out the very Earth and catch rain with your hands for him, but would you do the same for me? Would you break a promise to Tommy to honour one made to me?” You did not need a reply, but you needed your husband to question himself on that. And the silence that followed gave you the answer you needed. 

“Do you know what day it was yesterday?” The tone in your voice had changed. The words held not only anger, but hurt. The bitter kind of hurt of a person with no tears left to cry, but with their heart still tightened in a painful coil. A tired pain which has been drawn out too long, which no longer burns but a sting remains everlasting, always nagging in the back and unable to be soothed.

“Friday?” He asked sheepishly

“It was our fifth wedding anniversary. Five years in which you’ve carried that golden band on your finger. In which I’ve given you my heart, my body, all have and I am. I have given you two children and another on the way. And you couldn’t give me one day of your life to celebrate with me”

A gelid silence lingered between you two. You saw the gears slowly turning in Arthur’s brain, his face drooping and eyes widening as the realisation slowly began to sink in. You noticed him silently counting with his fingers, going back and forth on months and days; but truth be told, you doubted he could even recall the year of the wedding had you not reminded him of the pass of time.

“Poppy” He attempted again, hands in your elbows to pull you close to him “I am so sorry, my love. I thought it was today and-”

“Oh please Arthur! After five years you should know me better than to think I would swallow such a lie” An humourless laugh escaped your lips “But again, what more can I expect from you?”

You saw how your jabs hurt him, and deep down you wanted him to be hurt. You wanted him to feel even a fraction of the grief you carried perpetually upon your soul. To understand what it felt when the person who held your heart dropped it and stomped on it with their heel until only dust remained.

You turned away from him, noticing how the breeze had become howling wind, and the gentle drizzle had thickened into a spring rain, the water droplets slipping past the wide collar of the coat and running down the curve of your spine. You crossed your arms over your chest, hands resting upon your shoulders. One might think it a simple gesture to keep yourself warm, but you actually just tried to keep yourself whole.

“You used to buy me flowers” Your eyes closed, evocating in your mind sweet memories of better times to help you steady your heart “You would come home with these massive bouquets and I could barely see your face behind it. They were so colourful and vibrant, and I would take so much care in arranging them in that Japanese vase we got for our wedding. And every time a petal fell off I would press it to dry and then store it. I have the first roses you gave me in a crystal pyx in my vanity. I had the flowers from my bridal bouquet dry pressed and framed. All little mementos of the happiest days of my life” The longing was palpable in your voice, your head tilted to lay on your shoulder as you saw those memories playing behind your eyelids like a movie

But soon those flashbacks faded, and the sweetness turned to bitter bile in your throat “I thought things would be alright. I thought that together, things would improve. You always said you wanted to be a better man, and I hoped I could turn you into one. For some months I thought I did” Your throat tightened and you swallowed the lump down to continue “But every time things seemed better, they ended worse than before. It is always one step forward and three back with you” You dabbed at your hot tears furiously, but they kept mixing on your skin with the freezing rain.

“When I married you, I never thought I would find myself dragging you to the bathtub to wash you clean of your own vomit and spilled gin. That I would have to learn every trick in the book to get blood off your shirts so the maids wouldn’t see them. That I could not let my own children run free around their home until I have made sure you didn’t left your guns or your fucking cocaine laying around”

You heard a thud behind you. Arthur had dropped to his knees, clinging to your skirts like a repentant sinner faced with the Doomsday.

“I can change. I will. This is the last time I fail you” Long fingers tugged on your clothes, like a scared child seeking comfort in his mother. Every fibre of your being urged you to pull him to his feet and embrace him, cradle him into you and promise him that everything would be well in the end. But you couldn’t, because not even you knew if things would ever be well again. Or if you wanted them to.

He noticed the little effect his words had on you, and redoubled his efforts “I-I…I will throw away the whiskey, and the snow and the opium and everything. I will never kill again, never carry a gun with me” His grip on you tightened, arms around your hips with his forehead pressed to your lower back. You felt his sobs against your body, the way he snuggled into you for warmth. In another time, the action would have moved you. But your heart had frozen, immune to hollow words and feeble promises.

“No, Arthur” The impassiveness of your tone caught him off guard, his grip faltering on you “I have given you all I had. I have bled myself dry to keep you afloat. But I can’t anymore. I cannot go on like this for the rest of my days” Your eyes fluttered open, teardrops beading in your lashes like crystals. “I used to think you could be saved”

“You thought I was a savable man” He fell back on the ground, his hold loosening until his arms fell limp at his sides. Your body felt cold without his touch, but even colder with it.

“Yes” You breathed out quietly

“But you don’t think I am no more”

Your eyes fixed again on the bloodied rose. The crimson had dried on the petal, leaving a stain that the pouring failed to wash off. The weight of the water forced the petals down, until they began to split and reveal the very centre of the flower, leaving it exposed to the elements. Some petals drifted in the wind, one by one, disappearing into the storm, until only the red one remained. But that one, too, eventually fell off at your feet, and then the rose was no more.

“No”

#Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby one shot #arthur shelby jr #arthur shelby angst #marsie writes #marsie posts

[call-sign-shark]

I’m listening to Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray and I can’t shake the feeling of a fic with Arthur based off this song. I feel like it fits him so well! I can just imagine a toxic relationship between him and the reader where he hits her or harms her in some way (intentional or not) but she keeps going back to him

“He hit me and it felt like a kiss..”

Plssss lmao the way this works so well

No need to do anything with it, just wanted to share because I know you’re a slut for Arthur like I am

“Because I know you’re a slut for Arthur” SIS YOU’RE SO RIIIIIGHT. HE’S MY SOFT KITTEN. 😩

Ultraviolence || Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader

TW: angst ++, abusive husband, toxic relationship, depiction of domestic violence, alcoholism, if you think this trope have a good ending you should not read it, no proof reading: this is raw, unedited and prolly super badly written??

Words: 1k

Each inch gained by the clock’s needle, your heart raced more as if it feared to be pierced by its the sharp steel. Nibbling on your fingers’ skin compulsively, you sat on the large luggage you prepared one hour ago because you knew that when Arthur came home after midnight, he was not the man you fell in love with anymore. His gruff voice, usually lavishing you with the sweetest pet names he could find, would call you deadly nightshade — because when you looked at him with fear and fury in your oh-so- beautiful but teary eyes, it felt like a caustic poison was running through his veins, burning him from within and dissolving his sanity.

The door opened, your soul wept.

“Oi Y/N, where the fook are ye?” The gravel in his tone, who used to make you shiver with desire, sent shivers of fright down your spine. You took a deep breath, struggling to keep composure: this night would be the last you suffered from his violent love. After months of hesitating, coming back to him almost crawling, you decided that this nightmare had to stop. Somehow, you knew you had to flee from his claws before you ended up dead and cold — either by suicide or by his hands.

He stumbled in the living room, an empty bottom of whisky hanging from his hand. His steel blue eyes, half closed due to the amount of alcool he drank and cocaine he snorted, were looking for you, “Bloody hell Y/N, a good wife always welcome her husband when he comes back home. So be a good fookin’ woman and come greet your ol’ Arthur with the warmth he fucking deserve.” He grunted, before his frightening gaze fell on you.

He looked at you, and you could hear the sirens howling in the back of your head.

“What the hell?” He whispered at the sight of your packed stuff, slowly understanding your intentions, “Are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t do this anymore Arthur,” words left your mouth, falling from your quivering lips, “This is going to kill me… I’m sorry.”

“You wanna leave me?” He asked, bewildered. The sound of the bottle shattering on the wooden floor echoed in the living room, answering to the screams of his own heart breaking. You hated yourself at the idea of hurting him but you could not do it anymore, loving him was really hard. At first your thought it would be enough to save him, to heal his soul and mind, but love was not enough— your love was never enough.

“I’m sorry.” You got up and grabbed your luggage, before making your way to the door. Yet, Arthur firmly grabbed your wrist as you passed by, his grip so sharp it bruised your skin almost instantly.

“You’re not going anywhere, love.”

“Let me go. Please Arthur, if you love me you have to let me go.”

“I said you’re not. Going. Any-fookin-where.” He retorted, his hoarse voice growling with more hatred as anger boiled within him.

“Let me go you fucking bastard!” You bursted out, panic overwhelming your aching soul as you felt his nails digging into your skin.

The horrific sound of the blow that followed made the skies shook with sorrow. Pain stung your cheek, its burning sensation spreading on all the left side of your face. You let out a woeful whimper, tears flowing from your eyes almost instantly. He hit you, and it felt like a kiss, because it was his way of loving you when he was drunk.

“YOU AIN’T LEAVING ME, YOU POISON. I’M ARTHUR FUCKING SHELBY RIGHT?” He barked.

His hand grabbed you a second time — but it was not to make you dance anymore, like he used to do when you were kids.

Pain rain down on you,

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence.

“I’m … Im so sorry…” Arthur kept saying over and over again, his hands on both side of his head as he pulled his own hair, devastated with the view of crimson stains on your face.

Panicking, he then grabbed your chin and almost suffocated you with his lips, assaulting your bleeding mouth with desperate kisses, “I’m so sorry Y/N, it won’t happen again. I just don’t know what crossed my mind, it wasn’t me… it was the fucking whisky! The bloody snow! I won’t do it again, I swear doll I will never hurt you anymore… I— I love you… God I love you so much I’ll die without you.”

His blue eyes overflowed with tears of gold, like lemonade.

“Arthur… I —“ Words choked in your throat as you saw him cry. The monster had left, leaving him sobbing like a beaten child. He raised your gaze toward yours when you called him, and you knew he was your gentle Arthur again.

But you could not forgive him again and again.

Could you?

He would be the death of you.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you. Please, Y/N.”

The cacophony of your mind almost made you wince, for your thoughts crashed against your skull in a messy bacchanalia. Run away, you had to run away… so why did your body remained petrified? Why did you gently stroke his hair, looking at him, desperately in love?

It was stronger than you, stronger than reason, you hated to see him cry. You despised the way he was hating himself, genuinely guilty.

But you had to go.

To go.

But you stayed.

Don’t beg, stop telling me you love me. Please.

Please I can’t. It’s never enough.

Give me all of that ultraviolence.

“I love you too, Arthur. I love you forever.” Your voice was merely a whisper as warm blood ran from your nostrils, tainting your lips and dying on your chin. Your fingers gently grazed his neck as you knew he loved — all you wanted was to stop his pain. To see him smile with that stupid, irresistible grin that made you fall for him.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” His lips laid a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, the tip of his tongue tasting the blood. His voice was filled with sincere love, “I’ll change. I swear to God I’ll change for you,” Somehow he really believed in what he said, but the truth was he would never change… And you knew it.

“You won’t lose me — maybe you could — help me putting my stuff back where they belong?” You stuttered, your whole body about to collapse in his arms for it just wanted to feel his touch.

“Of course I’ll do.”

Arthur smiled.

You did too.

But Angels cried,

for they knew that he hurt you and it felt like true love.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me honey, know that you can make yourself at home in my ask box, especially when it’s about babyboy Arthur.

I love this Lana’s song so much, and I completely understand the vibes you felt. It would suit so well in a Dark!Arthur fic — in fact I loved it so much I could not help but write a little something for ya! Even though I do feel in-character Arthur would be far too terrified to hurt Reader and would not physically harm . Maybe being rougher, bruising her with his grip without doing it on purpose. But he would not hit her (cf: office scene with Linda in S5). Yet — I decided to go dark with this one because, as you said, “he hit me and it felt like a kiss” is just perfect for this sad trope.

#arthur shelby #arthur Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinder x reader #Tommy Shelby #John Shelby #Michael gray #Alfie Solomon’s #Arthur Shelby angst #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky blinder angst #request

[peakyltd]

Promises

A/N: I wanted to write for my upcoming series but I’m stuck so instead I made this moodboard with a short drabble 🤭

Warnings: Angst

Arthur Shelby x fem reader

The sound of footsteps were getting closer and closer. She looked over her shoulder but there was no one to be seen. She quickened her pace, hoping they wouldn’t catch up on her.

It was a dark rainy night and she wandered trough the streets of Small Heath. She knew it was dangerous, especially as a woman all by herself. But she did it often and it went well every single time. Until now. 

It was late, no one would hear a thing if something happened to her.

Her heart started beating faster. Her hand slipped to the knife that she had carefully tucked in her coat.

She could hear faint noises coming from the streets, some sounded like her name. It scared her, she was surrounded by darkness, nobody in sight.

The footsteps catched up on her, a cold gust touched her skin. She stopped and turned around but the streets were empty, nothing to see except for all the raindrops that were falling. 

How could she be so stupid to stop.

When she turned back to quickly continue her way, she was met with the angry face of a man she swore she would never see again.

A loud gasp escaped her mouth. She pulled out her knife and pointed it at him.

She wanted to say something but his sudden appearance left her speechless. Arthur was really there, standing right in front of her. It had been so long since she had seen him.

 “I thought you were dead.” She eventually managed to say, staring at the man who blocked her way.

“I promised I would haunt you from the grave.” His gravelly voice broke the sound of the rain hitting the streets. 

She looked at him in shock, the knife still pointing in his direction. “I keep my promises.” He added as he stared her dead in the eye. “You know I had to.” She defended herself. 

“I thought I could trust you. Ye fucking betrayed me.” 

#arthur shelby moodboard #arthur shelby drabble #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby angst

[notyour-valentine]

Valentine's Writings ~ Arthur Shelby Masterlist

[Navigation] [Peaky Blinders Masterlist] [Taglist]

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.

I hope you enjoy and would be grateful for any form of feedback.

Oneshots

Dance with Me ~ Arthur Shelby x Reader (Fluff)

Arthur is feeling a bit insecure, lucky for him, his wife is there to build him up again

A peaceful life ~ Arthur Shelby & Reader (Angst)

In light of the death at the boxing ring, Arthur contemplates the reality of his life, and what could have been

Headcanons

PDA

Sleeping

x Milf

First Period - Shelby!Sister

Arthur's life in the country

Skiing

#valentineswritings #arthur shelby #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby headcanon #arthur shelby moonboard #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby angst #peaky blinders #masterlist #arthur shelby masterlist #peaky blinders imagines

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

#masterlist #xreader #smut #fluff #warner sister #angst #requests #x you #imagine #peaky blinders #Thomas Shelby #John Shelby #Arthur Shelby #Alfie solomons #Bonnie gold #Isaiah Jesus #Michael gray #Finn Shelby #Tommy Shelby #thomas shelby x reader #John Shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #Bonnie gold x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #michael gray x you #michael gray x reader #finn shelby x reader #Peaky blinders x you #Peaky blinders headcannon #headcannon

[storywriter007]

Life or Death - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n realizes thomas shelby hasn't been good to her

warnings: character death, cursing, poverty, catcalling, mentions of sex,

genre: heartbreak

word count: 2.9k

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1900

"i'm starving." a young thomas shelby said aloud.

"have you not had anything to eat today?" a young y/n asked.

"money's been tight, i've had to skip meals." tommy explained.

the two ten year olds sat in silence for a moment.

y/n knew what it was like for money to be tight. her family's income had been tight, after the passing of her father. her mom went to teach children at a local school while making dresses on the side to keep the two of them afloat.

"it's almost suppertime, why don't you come to my house?" y/n invited.

"really?" he asked.

"of course." she nodded. "you're my best friend, why would i want to see you hungry?"

that evening, y/n and tommy walked home together and were given a warm welcome by y/n's mother.

"tommy! welcome!" she exclaimed. "come on in you two."

they sat down at the table and began eating supper. stew and dumplings. it was warm and delicious.

to tommy, y/n's house often felt more like home than his own. it was quite small, but it had home-like decorations everywhere. it was nice and toasty since it didn't take much fire to heat the place, and moreover y/n was there.

"you children cannot stay out in the cold during this time of year." y/n's mother scolded, putting her hand on tommy's cheek and seeing how cold it was.

"but we were playing a game-" y/n argued.

"play games inside. i don't want to see you to freeze to death." she continued.

"yes mom." y/n laughed, looking at tommy, knowing they were going to go outside the next day anyways.

it was getting dark out and tommy was full.

"i should probably get going. bye y/n, by ms. y/l/n!" tommy said, getting up.

"wait!" y/n said, running to the kitchen.

she came back with tupperware.

"here, take some home." she insisted.

"no, no, i couldn't-" he argued.

"take it! tell john, arthur, and ada i say hello!" y/n said, shoving the tupperware into his arms.

that night, tommy's siblings had a warm meal.

"this is delicious tommy! where'd you get this from?" arthur remarked.

"y/n. she insisted." he responded.

"you better marry her for this one." arthur laughed.

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1904

"look at the body on that one." a classmate remarked as y/n walked by.

she just rolled her eyes and continued walking. this wasn't unusual.

"you'd make a ton of money at the whore house!" the boy yelled out again as laughter followed.

so would your mother, y/n thought of saying, but decided that it was best for her to not. this boy was twice her size.

"so would your mother." another boy's voice called out.

y/n turned around to see tommy and the other boy standing chest to chest, about to fight.

"what'd you say shelby?" the boy asked.

"so would your mother." he repeated, not an ounce of fear in his voice.

a teacher came and pulled the two apart.

"both of you seperate. if i see this again, i'll make sure to tell your mothers!" she scolded.

both the boys backed away from one another. tommy caught up with y/n.

"thanks tommy." she said.

"it's nothing, i've wanted to say that to him for a while now." tommy laughed.

"my mum's sending me to get groceries today? would you like to join me." y/n asked.

"of course." tommy agreed. "can't wait to eat apples out of the farmer's cart."

"don't do that! you got us chased down last time!" y/n scolded, remembering a set of angry farmers running after them.

they settled down after they were paid, at least. otherwise, who knows what could've happened.

"it was fun!" he argued.

"it was." she agreed.

as she watched tommy walk away, y/n realized that she had a crush on him. but it was just a crush, it wasn't that serious.

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1914

"glad to see you dr." tommy smiled, opening the door to the pub.

"happier to see you mr." she returned the joke.

y/n had always wanted to save people's lives, so she entered the medical field. after gaining main patients, it became more difficult to see tommy as often as she used to. even tommy was on the rise in the business world. it was hard to hangout with one-another, but they always made time.

over the years, y/n's crush on tommy had turned into love, but she didn't know how to tell him. no time ever seemed right.

"there might be a war." tommy said, drinking whiskey at the pub.

"you think you'll get drafted?" y/n asked, wanting him to say no, but knowing what the answer was.

"yes." he answered. "unfortunately."

"it'll just be me and ada." y/n chuckled. "she's better company than you."

"oh really? go drink with her." tommy laughed. "you'll miss me when i go off."

"you know i will." y/n smiled.

.....................................................

y/n realized her worst nightmare had come true as tommy stood at her front door.

"i have to go to france." he said.

she felt water fill up her eyes, but she stayed calm.

"i'll miss you." she smiled.

"i'll miss you too." he smiled back.

he turned around to leave.

"tommy, wait." she said, trying not to cry.

he turned around.

"i didn't know when to tell you this because no time ever seemed right and we were always so busy." she rambled. "but since you're going to france, and i might not see you again, i just want you to know i love you. it's no use for me to say i don't, because it's true. i've loved you ever since i've known you."

the tears started falling. he stared at her for a minute. did she ruin their friendship? did he not feel the same way? would he never talk to her again? did she have to do this before he left?

lost in her thoughts, y/n didn't realize tommy had leaned down and kissed her.

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1918

y/n got down on her knees, that had already been bruised from how much she'd kneeled.

"dear god, please keep tommy, john, and arthur safe." she pleaded. "please keep tommy safe."

she'd done this every morning and every night since the boys were drafted.

"please make it end soon." she continued.

she looked at the couple of photographs her and tommy had together from years before. they used to love taking together, and writing the story on the back.

she got to their last picture. taken four years ago. it was hear and tommy making silly faces. on the back, it said, "tommy's going to france."

she felt a tear run down her cheek. what if he never came back? what if that was their last photo together?

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1919

y/n was overjoyed when all three brothers returned, alive. she hugged tommy so tightly, glad he was alright.

but something had changed. tommy wasn't as happy as he used to be anymore. he didn't smiled as much, but he still did when they were together, and that was all that mattered to y/n.

y/n knew all about the shelby business, having grown very close to ada and polly, she was informed about everything. even when tommy was doing gang work before, he was never as gloomy as he was now. he was much more serious.

she tried desperately to comfort him, and it did work. he did talk about the war with her, and y/n understood he was traumatized. she didn't try to change him or tell him lighten up, she understood the mental toll it had taken on him.

countless nights would tommy tell her about the memories of war and they would end up falling asleep on the floor, in a mix of papers and books.

they were never officially together, they had never gotten then chance. but when tommy was ready, y/n hoped they could make it offical.

one night, they walked into the garrison. y/n had just finished with a long day of patients.

"dr!" arthur greeted y/n with a hug.

"arthur!" she laughed back.

however, there was a new face at the pub. she was pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. y/n came up to her.

"i haven't seen you around! are you new?" she smiled, asking.

"yes, i am new." the barmaid responded, quite curtly, y/n noticed.

"i'm y/n! what's your name?" she asked.

"grace. my name is grace." she said, briefly.

"well, grace, i just wanted to say, i think you're absolutely gorgeous." y/n smiled.

grace gave a brief smile back and went back to bartending.

odd, y/n thought, but assumed it was because of how busy the pub was, her mind was probably on working.

.....................................................

"there's this new copper who's been on my ass." tommy said.

"that sucks. has he been sniffing around?" y/n asked.

"yes." he responded, taking a long drag out of his cigarette.

y/n noticed grace very clearly listening to their conversation.

"he's been asking me about, well, y'know." he continued. "they're taken care of, but still. he's onto me."

of course she knew. the guns. tommy had told her everything. his plan and why.

"that's enough about that." he ended. "how's your business, doctor?"

"it's going well." y/n chuckled. "i'm seeing entire lineages now."

"whiskey?" grace asked, coming over.

"no thank you." y/n smiled. "i should get home now."

tommy smiled and said goodbye. y/n thought that was odd, since usually tommy would've walked her out.

"thank you grace." she said, before leaving.

grace ignored her.

.....................................................

y/n was sitting with the shelby's at the garrison. she noticed something about tommy, something odd. he straightened up whenever grace entered the room and he always smiled.

this wasn't the first odd thing tommy had done. since she came, he was at the pub more. he also took her to a horserace. not to mention, his eyes foretold a story between them. it had been a while since tommy looked at her that way.

but there was something odd about grace. she was always listening in and trying to get closer to tommy.

y/n asked to see tommy privately, and that's when she made her point.

"the barmaid, she seems suspicious. do you notice how she's always listening in and trying to get close to you? and how that copper start bothering you the same time she came here?" y/n said.

"her name's grace." tommy responded.

"yes, grace, seems odd." y/n corrected.

"what is it y/n? you can't stand there's another friend of mine?" he said, clearly aggravated.

"no, i don't care about that. i just don't want you to get hurt-"

"hurt? hurt is when i was in france." he interrupted.

"tommy, will you just try to listen?"

"to your bullshit? no." he said.

that hurt.

"you're free to leave." he said simply, taking a drag out of his cigarette.

y/n chuckled, and left.

.....................................................

can y/n say it came as a shock when tommy told her grace had betrayed him and fled the country? not really.

"i told you so." y/n said, plainly. "it was obvious."

tommy seemed pissed at that comment.

"that doesn't mean you can talk down on her." tommy stated.

"well tommy, you can't really control what i say and what i think." she responded back, beginning to get aggravated at his blindness. "and what i think is that grace is a traitor."

"what i think is that you should leave." he said.

"always running from the truth, now-a-days, aren't you?" she smiled, leaving.

y/n would be lying if she said she didn't go home that night and cry, because she did. why was tommy so wrapped around grace? had he fallen in love with her? no, no. it was probably just attraction. it had to be. right?

the next day, tommy apologized for being so harsh to her, and everything was back to normal. no more grace, no more deception, and no more stupidity.

.....................................................

y/n was still waiting for tommy to make it official, but he still hadn't. the war had been over for two years now. she had thought about tommy everyday for the past seven years.

she missed him, she missed what they used to have. it was almost midnight, and she decided she wanted to go see him. she couldn't keep waiting.

she called his number three times, but he didn't pick up, so she drove to his home, and knocked on the door. no answer. she was starting to get worried. she opened the door and walked in on something that made her stomach drop.

it was tommy with grace. and they were having sex on the sofa, and he whispered how much he loved her and how he thought of her everyday. it seemed they had finished, because now they were getting dressed. when tommy turned his head and saw y/n, his eyes grew wide.

y/n felt tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat.

he dragged her into his office.

"what the hell y/n! you can't just fucking barge into my house!" he yelled.

"i called you three times. i knocked on your door and waited outside for five minutes. with the life you live tommy, i got worried." she said, wiping her nose.

"y/n, you have to leave." he said. "i've got something here, and i can't lose it again."

again. y/n felt her stomach drop and her heart break into a thousand pieces.

"again?" she asked. "again! tommy, i have waited for you! i waited for seven fucking years, waiting for you to say you want to try something with me!" she yelled.

"do you not remember! do you not remember the night you got drafted, because i sure as hell do!" she screamed.

"y/n, calm down, you're going to scare grace-"

oh that sent her.

"grace! you think i give two fucks about grace! the one who deceived you, lied to you, manipulated you, and now comes running back!" she screamed even louder.

"i love her!" he yelled.

"you love her! you love her! than what about me!" y/n yelled, tears starting to flow. "what about every day and night i prayed for you during the war! what about every time i invited you to my house for supper! i have waited and waited for you to say that you love me and you just don't!"

tommy was silent.

"i have loved you throughout everything. i was always kind to you. i was good." she continued.

"i'm a bad man, y/n, we know this." he said.

"and i love you even though you're a bad man! you believed every one of her lies of all of my truths. and i still loved you! you kicked me out everytime i brought it up! and guess what? i still loved you."

tommy looked at her.

"who was there by your side when you were scared and alone? who was there every night when you got back from the war and had terrible nightmares? who was there taking care of finn while you were off at war, because i don't think it was fucking grace!"

"i'm sorry." he said.

"no you're not because if you were, you wouldn't have done this in the first place!" she screamed through tears.

"who was there thomas!" that was the first time she had said his full name. "i'm done. don't fucking call me, don't show up to my office, don't come near me. i'm done playing your dark and twisted games just for you to switch the rules so someone else wins. i'm done dealing with a different you every fucking night. i'm done."

thomas looked at her.

"who's it going to be?" y/n asked.

"so well." he responded.

y/n smiled and turned around to leave, but before she left, she said he final words to thomas.

"i'm never going to aid you again. whether it be in life or death."

that was the last conversation between y/n and thomas.

.....................................................

Birmingham, 1924

"just have some soup and rest up, and you'll feel a lot better." y/n advised her last patient of the day.

work had become more of a thing for y/n after word of her spread all across birmingham, she was getting patients from everywhere. and for right reasons, she was a damn good doctor.

she walked them outside before sitting in the waiting room with her receptionist.

"thank you edward, you're free to leave." she said, smiling.

"see you tomorrow doctor." edward smiled as he exited.

y/n was left to close her office. she began putting files away and cleaning equiptment. the doors and windows were locked. the stationary was put away.

suddenly, she heard a loud knock on her door. she turned around to see a face she thought she'd never see again. she stared into his bright blue eyes for a moment, before realizing he was actually here, and that it was just a figment of her imagination.

y/n opened the small window on the door. she looked down to see him carrying grace. she had been very clearly shot.

"she might have a chance, please y/n."

"you chose her over me." y/n said, looking into his piercing blue eyes.

he froze.

"and i told you that very night, i would never aid you again, whether it be life or death." she reminded, shutting the window door.

he banged on the door, pleading. she shot him one last look before shutting the blinds, turning the lights off, and leaving out the back.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #ada shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby #polly shelby #angst #heartbreak #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader

[tommyshelbyswh0re]

the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby

summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?

trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.

angst

dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader

you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.

you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.

you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.

deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.

you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.

when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.

“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.

“huh?” he raised his brow

“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.

“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.

“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.

“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.

“never new tom had a daughter”

“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.

“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.

you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.

“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.

“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.

“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.

“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.

“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.

“you could say so yes” you replied.

“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.

“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.

“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.

for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.

“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.

you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.

the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.

“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.

a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.

“go easy” he sternly told you.

you glared at him.

from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.

“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.

“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.

“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.

“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.

“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.

“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.

“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.

“who?” tommy asked

“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.

“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.

“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.

“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.

just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.

on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.

the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.

you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.

“is that you y/n?” she smiled.

“hello” you suddenly felt shy.

“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.

“how have you been y/n?” she asked.

“good, i graduated school”

“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked

“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”

“why two jobs?” ada asked

“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”

“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded

“why would he?” you asked.

“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.

“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.

“yes”

“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.

“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.

“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked

“don’t have any” your shrugged.

“what about school friends?”

“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.

“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.

“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”

arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.

“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.

you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.

“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.

“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.

ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.

“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”

you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”

your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.

“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.

he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.

a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.

“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.

“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.

“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.

“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.

“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.

“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.

“i know” he nodded.

“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.

“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.

“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.

“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”

“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.

“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.

“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.

“its not really dinner talk is it.”

“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.

“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.

“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”

“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.

“you remember that?” he asked

“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”

“i am so sorry y/n”

“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed

“why did you come?” he asked.

“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”

“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.

“why?” you questioned

“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.

you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.

you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”

he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused

“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.

“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.

“okay.”

#peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #peaky blinders #polly gray #john shelby #arthur shelby #alfie solomons #angst #peaky blinder fanfic #masterlist

[madeinparadis]

NIGHTLY SORROWS | THOMAS SHELBY

pairing: thomas shelby × reader

tw: grief (reader is dead), angst

word count: 724

masterlist: all characters

a/n: this is more of a drabble, just a little something i wrote before bed. italics signal a flashback/memory.

Far into the winter, all of Birmingham was covered in fog and cold. The houses were dimly illuminated by the bleak sunshine during the day, then engulfed by darkness in the later hours, and Arrow House was no exception, looking and feeling particularly gloomy. Despite all efforts done by staff to make it warm and hospitable for its owner, the most important part of it was lost forever, and could never be replaced- you.

The clock on the bedside table read one o'clock. Tommy sat in what was once your shared bed, now only his. His mind was playing tricks on him yet again, clouding his conscience with visions of you, the feeling of longing and regret leaving a bad taste on his tongue.

No matter the circumstances, Thomas Shelby wouldn't ever say he is an emotional or sensitive man. With all the horrors he's seen, all the men he's brutally murdered, the business he leads, there was just no space in his life for feelings. Even so, that doesn't mean they didn't plague him- in fact, they took over his mind at every given chance. Every time he let himself breathe and relax his muscles, he was taken there, to a place where you exposed the thoughts and emotions buried the deepest in his consciousness.

"Tom?" you called, a smile painted on your face. Oh, this was one of his favourite memories. "Look, I want you to see this." your request caught his attention, making him glance up at you, taking notice of the new garments on your frame. "What do you think?" you gestured at your outfit. "The seamstress finished it earlier today. I'm thinking of wearing it the charity event next week."

If only he didn't take you to that ball...

"It looks perfect. you're always beautiful, love." Tommy replied, watching you change back into your nightgown, joining him in bed- back when it was still both his and yours to share.

"Fuck." he spoke in a low, tired tone. He had to get his shit together, stop reminiscing, he thought to himself. Well, perhaps later he would- for now, he wanted to keep you around, in whatever way possible.

The hours went by as Thomas drowned himself with work in the office, a poor attempt to drown out the thought of you. He got up from his chair, dragging his tired self to the cabinet and pouring himself a glass of whisky. Sitting behind the desk again, he drank up the contents of the glass in one uninterrupted take, setting it on the wooden desk quite harshly.

For a second, his head was empty. Then, there you were- the vision of your ghost like an oasis sighting to him. You took a step closer to him, standing behind the office desk as you rested your hands on his shoulders, earning a relieved sigh from Tommy, who leaned into your touch almost desperately.

"Did you miss me, darling?" Your voice was like medicine to his soul, making the pain drift away while he heard it- except it made his heart ache even more after, when he was reminded you weren't truly there anymore.

"Everyday, love." He replied with a tormented tone.

"You know you can't keep living like this, Tom. Our son needs a father." You spoke softly. "He needs you."

"There's no joy in this house without you, (y/n). Charlie misses you just like me, everyday."

You remained silent for some time, offering comfort with your touch rather than words. Tommy accepted every gesture of yours, taking every second he could get with you.

"It's not your fault, Tom. There was nothing you could do to prevent that bullet from reaching me." You spoke up again, kneeling down until your lips reached his ear. "Do you remember my last request to you, just before I died?"

"To be good to Charlie, take care of him." The expression on his face was pained as he answered your question, reminding him of your last moments on earth.

"Exactly. Have you gotten him a horse yet?"

"Yes. I bought him one for Christmas, a good breed."

"That's good. Be patient with him, Tom. He's got a strong-willed spirit like yours."

Tommy felt your lips on his cheek, looking up to see your face. But just like that, you were gone once more.

#madeinlisbon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #charlie shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #grace shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #winter #angst #drabble #my writing

[shelbyssins]

HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇

Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst

Word Count: 6,880

A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x

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June 1912

“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm. 

Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world. 

He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue. 

Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections. 

It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective. 

Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.

“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,” 

Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane. 

“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.

Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,” 

For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.

“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.

Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.

“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing. 

Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,” 

Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.

 March 1913

The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.

As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.

“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.

“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.

He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.

Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.

Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”

She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.

“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes. 

“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,” 

Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,” 

“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.

“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,” 

“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.

“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing. 

Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky. 

Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.

Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.

“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”

Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.

November 1913

Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets. 

Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.

Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.

She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.

“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.

“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.

She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.

“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him. 

Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word. 

Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”

Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.

“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.

“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.

But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head. 

“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.

“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.

“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.

“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.

“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.

Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.

“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet. 

As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little. 

Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?

Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.

“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”

Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”

Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.

The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.

“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.

“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.

Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.

February 1917

The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening. 

She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.

Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.

Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.

Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.

Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.

July 1919

Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.  

Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.

Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.

Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.

She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.  

"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.

Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.

He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.

"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.

"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.

"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.

"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.

"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.

"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.

Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"

Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"

Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.

"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.

"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"

"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"

"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.

"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"

Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"

Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.

"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"

Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"

"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.

"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.

"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"

Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"

Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"

Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.

"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.

Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."

"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"

Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.

"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"

"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.

Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #polly gray #arthur shelby #tommy shelby x reader fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader imagine #tommy shelby x reader oneshot

[jomarch-wannabe]

Arthur Shelby

Key: Smut 🔞 Angst ! Fluff :)

Oneshots

I want you 🔞 ! :) - (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader) - Reader confesses her feelings for Arthur

Daylight ! :) - (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader) - The only monster Arthur cannot kill is the one inside of himself

Blurbs

I’ll take care of you :) - (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader) - Arthur’s wife can always count on him to help her relax

#Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby masterlist #peaky blinders #masterlist #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby angst #Paul Anderson

[tommyshebyisdaddy]

𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑃𝑡．1

𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑥 𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑆𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑛’𝑠

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦；𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠ℎ 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛. 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛. 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜����𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙. 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟. 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦.

When she was young all Dorothy wanted to do was to make her farther proud of her. When he came home from war. It was like the little girl had turned in to a complete stranger. She would draw him pictures only to later find them in the bin. She tried everything. She always did well in school but none of it was never enough for him.

So soon enough the young girl stood trying. She didn’t even speak with her so called farther. Dorothy couldn’t remember a time when the two of them had a conversation. She would watch the way John was with his children. How he would swing Katie around and cuddle her. She often imagined that her dad would do that to her.

But that day never came. And now here she was. in an all girls boarding school. She only had a few months of school left. She hated the place. It was filled with nuns. And there was one strange perverted priest. But Dorothy managed to keep out of trouble. Her quietness kept her away from most of the cruel punishments.

She did have to admit. That the place was incredibly lonely. She had no friends. And she didn’t receive any mail on Fridays like the rest of the girls. And Fridays were the days that Dorothy would spend on her own in her bedroom crying. She just wanted someone to write to her. Ask her if she was ok. Ask her how she was doing.

She just longed for one little letter. And then she received one. But it was far from the one she expected. It was an investment to her farther’s wedding. No are you ok? No. How are you? Just a shot in invitation. ‘𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟’ that was in four days. And all Dorothy wanted to do was to shove the invitation down her farther’s throat.

But the young woman chose to be civilised and decided to attend. She had taken the train to Birmingham and she would probably call a taxi from the train stations public phone. She had worn one of her best dresses. And she had gotten her hair cut. Her hair was nearly down her back when she was fourteen and now she had it cut to her shoulders with pretty curls.

She had changed a lot in four years. She looked nothing like she did when she had first left for London. And her voice was very much different. Her words always sounded very smart. And she had a strong posh London accent. She no longer sounded as rough as she once did and Dorothy quite liked the change.

She wanted to leave every thing that reminded her of her last life. She watched out of the window as the taxi pulled up to the church. It was large. She saw some men standing out side smoking a cigarette. She had arrived ten minutes early. But it seemed as though she was not the only one which put her mind at ease lightly.

As Dorothy exited the car she handed the money over to the man bidding him a fair well. The young woman made her way over to the church noticing some of the men smoking their cigarettes outside staring at her. They were wearing cavalry uniforms which confused her. She remembered how much her family hated the cavalry.

A lot has changed. She gripped her small purse in her hands. As she walked through the doors of the church. The rows were full and Dorothy could see her farther stood at the front with her uncle. Dorothy walked quickly hoping that they did not notice her. And just her luck they did not. She took a seat next to a large man with a beard. He did seem to mind as she sat down.

She noticed Finn in the corner of her eye looking at her. The two of them were once close. Dorothy would often comfort Finn after he had had a nightmare or when he had been told of for being naughty and he was yelled at. The two of them were friends. Well that was what Dorothy thought until she went a month without a single letter from anyone.

Dorothy looked away from the boys eyes. She also noticed the man next to her starring at her. She felt a soft pink colour paint her cheeks. Dorothy had chosen to sit further away down the church as the family of the groom and bride were sat. She wasn't ready for any awkward confrontations yet.

She turned to look at the man she was seated next to. He was much taller than her self. His face had some scars on it. He seemed rather friendly in his body language. But he hadn't spoken to her. And Dorothy understood. She was a stranger and so was he to her. So she didn't bother to engage in to small talk.

The church looked beautiful and elegant. And her family all looked to be wearing expensive clothes which was very different to what they wore when Dorothy lived with them. She felt out of place. Her dress was cheep and she had bought it in a small boutique in town. She shrunk down in her chair. Now Embarrassed of the way she was dressed.

It felt like they were all going forward and they were just leaving her behind. And she was just like some kind of dead weight. A young man came around with the lyrics of the songs that they would sing in church. The man next to her didn’t accept the paper. But Dorothy smiled taking it from the young man’s hands.

Of course with four years of church every day. Dorothy practically new every word of the songs. But the young boy looked scared from talking to the man next to her. So she thought she should be kind. And it seemed to work. The young boy looked more relieved as he returned the kind smile to Dorothy. And carried on handing the slips of paper to the rest of the people.

As the church choir sang in the bleak midwinter. Everyone sat in silence. And soon Jeremiah Jesus came forward graces side looked disgusted with the fact that their was a man of colour who would marry grace and Tomas. But Jeremiah didn’t let that bother him as he walked forward taking his place at the stand.

And then the music began to play. Dorothy and the rest were all waiting for grace to come down the isle. She looked around at the rest of the family. None of them had noticed her here. And she couldn’t lie she felt really disappointed. She thought that at least one of them would have noticed her being at the bloody wedding.

And then grace came out from behind the door with her farther holding her hand as he was dressed in a cavalry uniform. A dark purple vail was placed over her face so nobody could see her face. All of the women on graces side of the family all fussed over about how lovely she looked. But the Shelby women didn’t look very happy. Dorothy wasn’t really bothered.

Tommy removed the vail off of his future wife’s face. They both smiled at one another. Before they both turned towards Jeremiah Jesus. Waiting for him to marry the couple. Dorothy heard the man at the side of her let out a unhappy grunt. Dorothy turned to look at him. He was also looking at her. Making the young woman blush as she turned back around.

“Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony. Tomas Michael Shelby and Grace Helen Burgess. Do you Tomas Michael Shelby, Take Grace Helen Burgess to be your lawfully wedded wife ?” Jeremiah asked her father. And he turned to look at grace. “I do” he said proudly.

“Do You Grace Helen Burges. Solemnly swear to love, honour, and obey till death do you part. ?” Jeremiah now turned to grace and asked her. And she once again smiled and turned to her soon to be husband. “I do” she smiled saying it with the same pride as tommy did. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” And the newly wedded couple brought one an other in for a kiss. Making everyone clap and cheer.

Everyone then made their way out of the church and outside. Dorothy was stood on her own. It was like nobody cared about her. She felt like a fool. As she stood with her purse in her hand. She just wished that she could go home. She watched as the two family’s gathered around for a photo. And heat Dorothy was not in it.

She watched as they all smiled together. Tommy and grace then climbed in to their carriage to drive to their home. She turned to see the man she was sat next to in the church standing besides her. “Who are you then.” His voice was rough and his frame was much larger than hers. But Dorothy sent him a soft sad smile.

“Dorothy but it’s not like anyone remembers” she said sadly looking at the man as she played with the purse in her hands. The man studied her. And he looked at her confused. He clearly didn’t understand her answer but he didn’t bother to question her which she was great full for.

“Ay been there. You need a lift.” He asked when he noticed she hadn’t come with anyone and women were not allowed to drive so she wouldn’t be able to get to Arrow house. Dorothy gave the man a genuine smile. No longer sad.

“If you really don’t mind.” Dorothy said. Her voice was soft. She was sweet. And there weren’t many people like that anymore and Alfie could tell that there was something wrong. And he didn’t want to engage In awkward small talk with his driver. When Alfie just wanted to blow his fucking brains out.

“Ay. Not at all” alfie said walking towards his car with Dorothy following behind him. Finn watched from the steps of the church. He knew he had to tell Tommy. He didn’t trust Alfie and he really didn’t trust Alfie around Dorothy. She didn’t know about the business that Tommy and Alfie had. So she was vulnerable.

Alfie opens the door for Dorothy and gave her his hand helping her inside the car. She sat down on the right side of the car. Tucking her purse in at her side. The driver gave Alfie a questioning look. But Alfie just nodded at him to drive.

“Who are you then. I’ve given you my name.” Dorothy smiled. At Alfie who nodded his head at her words. He was nervous that she would know who he was. And be scared of him. His name was well known. And many people already feared him.

“Alfie, Alfie Solomons” he told her leaning back in his seat in the car. His name sounded familiar. But Dorothy couldn’t exactly put her finger on it so she just left it. And shrugged it off and smiled at him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you mr Solomons, so what are you doing at my dads wedding?.” Dorothy asked. Not noticing the shocked look on Alfie’s face as the words came out of her mouth. But he tried to keep his cool.

“Me and tommy. We’re business partners. Didn’t know he had a a girl. Thought it was just the little one.” He said as he stared at Dorothy who’s expression suddenly changed. She looked sad. Really sad.

“Yeah, I was sent away. For school in London. I don’t even think he remembers me. I don’t think anyone does.” She said sadly looking down at her hands with a sigh. Now Alfie felt bad. And that was a rare thing. Alfie never felt sorry for people. Not even for himself.

“Maybe that’s a good thing ay. You don’t want to be with them. Bunch a bastards if ya ask me.” Alfie said his voice rough as he placed his top hat on his head. Dorothy giggled at his comment finding him funny as he cheered her up. Maybe this whole wedding wouldn’t be so bad.

“I suppose your right.” She laughed. Alfie watched as she did. The way the dimples on her cheeks became more visible and he got to see her beautiful hazel doe eyes. As the car pulled up to arrow house. Cars were all over the place and Alfie ordered his driver to pull up right at the door. And then to park the car once him and Dorothy were gone.

“Wait there” he told her with his thick London accent as he got out of the car. Dorothy did as he had said and remained in her seat. She was not sure as to why. But she did not bother to question him. Then her door opened and their Alfie stood with his hand out for Dorothy to hold so it was easy for her to exit the car.

The young woman smiled at him taking his hand in to hers. As she jumped down from the car. She thanked him as she strained her dress down. And Alfie’s hand left hers. So she used both of her hands to hold on to her bag. Her and Alfie walked in to the large home.

It was beautiful. This was far from what Dorothy remembered living in. She remembered a small home. With stained walls. And dirty floors. And this. This was amazing. She felt so left out. While she was still learning how to cook and clean. Everyone else was living life to the fullest.

But underneath her and Alfie. There was a meeting. And her name might just come up. Tommy took of his jacket with a cigarette hanging from his lips. As John and Arthur finally appeared on the stairs. Finn was eating whatever he could get his hands in and all of the other peaky boys made their way in to the room.

“Right boys, you’re all here. Today is my fucking wedding day.” Tommy was about to carry on with his speech before John interrupted him. “Yeah and you said. There’d be no bloody uniforms” John told his older brother angrily.

“Nevertheless… nevertheless, John…despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it in my carpet. Now for graces sake, nothing will go wrong. Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids. You do anything…” Tommy said in an angry rage once again before he was once again rudely interrupted.

“Tom?” Isaiah said and tommy turned to look at him his face still angry. “What about snow?” He asked curiously. “Yeah their women are sports I’ll say that…” John laughed bringing Isaiah in to a head lock. Scratching his scalp making the younger boy laugh.

“No. No. No. no cocaine. No cocaine. No sport. No telling fortunes. No racing. No fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars. And, you Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh? “ tommy told everyone of the men individually.

“I’m just trying to sell you to them. Tom.” Charlie told his nephew. Finn was wondering when he should tell Tommy about Dorothy and the fact that Alfie was trying to get close to her. He knew that Tommy wouldn’t be happy. But then again Tommy hadn’t seen the girl in four years and no one other than Finn recognised her anyway.

“But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers, desire the provocation from the cavalry. No fighting, Oi! No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. No fucking fighting.!” Tommy shouted at the men as he went and stood next to Arthur until a male maid bumped in to him. Tommy pushed the man to the floor. “Get the fuck off me!” And then Arthur through a glass at him.

“Tom. Dolly’s here. But she’s all different her hair it’s short and she’s well she’s wearing a dress.” Finn said out loud. All of the men turned ti look at him. Clearly shocked that Dorothy was here. Tommy looked the most shocked. He didn’t think she would really come. Especially after he had been a massive dick. He hadn’t written her a single letter. No one had. She spent four years off her life by herself. And now tommy was having to come to terms with all of his guilt.

Tommy didn’t say anything as he left the kitchen and back out to the party in the home. He searched around for a young woman matched the description of what Finn had told him dolly now looked like. But what he saw was not what he wanted.

His daughter sat with Alfie fucking Solomons

#finn shelby #peakyblinders #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #arthur shelby #shelby!reader #alfie solomons imagine #arthur shelby imagine #tommy shelby angst #john shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #michael gray smut #arthur shlby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders smut

[geekwritersworld]

Little Artist -Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Peaky blinders x siblingreader (more inclusion of Tommy for now)

Warnings: none

Summary: was a request, as stated in the previous part.

a/n: So, I decided to make a series of this cause I feel like the first part had series potential. Secondly, this part is quite short but it's vital to the third part. Also i am aware that the request is for a sister reader but i did try to be as inclusive as i could. Let me know what you think :)

Feedback is appreciated

The air chilled your fingers as you walked out of the university clutching your bag.

Somehow Tommy managed to listen to you for once, you thought.

Tommy refused, at first, to let you travel back to small heath from London on your own, he insisted on sending Isaiah to pick you up.

It wouldn't come as a surprise if Isaiah was somewhere around right now following you to make sure you were safe. If anything it would be a surprise if he wasn't following you right now.

You weren't fully attending university yet seeing as you still had a month of school left. However, during the days you were free you decided to get acquainted with the university and the city you'd be calling home for a while.

Once you'd gotten used to the idea of you moving to London for university, you couldn't ignore the little ball of excitement slowly growing in your chest.

It was such a freeing yet terrifying thought. You were afraid of moving away from your family, from the safety of your home, yet you were excited at the numerous opportunities that would open up for you in university.

Turning the corner of the building, focusing on your footsteps and keeping your head down because of the wind, the extra set of footsteps went unnoticed, the noise of the footsteps masked by the wind and the chatter of the rest of the students that had walked out of the university.

Having only been around in the university for less than 2 weeks, you didn't know anyone, but truth be told, you didn't exactly put any effort into making any friends or talking to anyone either.

There was something that made you feel out of place, you couldn't put your finger on it.

But you tried not to focus on it, instead you sped up your pace; pushing past a crowd of students.

Sitting down on your seat on the train, you couldn't help but wonder about the professor that had introduced himself today. There was something odd about him, the whole time for the first 45 minutes he glanced at you every few minutes. But you shrugged it off, you didn't want to believe that there was anything wrong with the university you'd wanted to go to for so long.

You jolted awake at the sound of the whistle and quickly realized you'd fallen asleep and had arrived at Birmingham, so you grabbed your things and stepped off the train, standing there for a second, you spotted a man standing by the pillar, his head down, cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Tommy" you gave a small smile " Not even surprised" you adjusted your bag looking at him.

Walking ahead a few steps in front of him, you felt the weight of your bag shifting, turning around you saw Tommy motioning you to shrug your bag off, so he could carry it.

You let him hold your bag, and then paused for a second before continuing. You wondered whether you should talk to Tommy about the professor, but then you realized Tommy in true Shelby fashion would probably exaggerate the whole thing.

Tommy noticed but let it go, he decided if it needed to be brought up he would, later on.

Aunt Pol greeted you with a smile, hugging you and ushering you indoors for a cup of tea.

"How's the University treating you?" she set her tea cup down and looked at you. "and i don't mean just study wise, you know that" she said before you could answer.

Giving a small smile you responded with "it's alright, it's only just begun so 'm not really expecting much"

Pol gave a small smile of acknowledgement, but didn't say anything further. Really, she just wanted to make sure you were alright, she was sure it couldn't be easy having to go through the new phase alone, she also knew you were like Tommy in more ways she'd like, meaning you wouldn't necessarily tell them if there's something bothering you. Most likely in true Shelby fashion, you'd either ignore it till it went away or you'd try and deal with it yourself.

Since it was still early in the day, Pol had to leave and head back to the betting shop while you decided to stay home and read. It was only around four in the afternoon, the trip to london and back had exhausted you, so you opted to stay home and rest.

Heating up the rest of the tea Polly had left in the kettle, you settled on the couch.

A little distance away, at the noisy betting shop, Tommy was hunched over the paperwork he'd acquired for the day. Unable to focus after rereading the same line twice, Tommy cursed, slamming the pen down and putting out the cigarette.

He straightened up and leaned his head back in his chair.

It had been a month since his last confrontation with the inspector, since his Aunt shot the inspector at the races. It unnerved your older brother to let you go unprotected around on your own considering there was always someone or the other threatening him or his family.

Tommy and Arthur once snorted at the fact that Polly had shot Campbell in time for you to be safe to leave for University safely without Campbell having the opportunity to threaten you.

Arthur had suggested that he could- on some days accompany you to London, and then was a little offended when you retorted that you'd rather your professors didn't disappear one after the other and surface at a lake blinded.

Of course he had Isaiah trailing after you, and he knew that you were aware of it as well, but there were of course certain points when you were alone.

His instincts told him something was very wrong. Ada had only the other day made a joke about how the current lack of threats and bloodshed was unnerving.

Little did she know her older brother wasn't joking.

Getting up from his seat he poured himself some whiskey and downed it one gulp, then he stepped out of his office, paying no attention to everyone in the betting shop quieting down at his presence, and strode right out of the shop.

He spotted Isaiah and Finn having a smoke down the street and he strode towards them.

"Finn" Tommy said in a tone that almost seemed like his younger brother had the most boring name known to him.

Looking up, both Finn and Isaiah straightened, knowing Tommy meant business.

"I need you to find Grace"

Turning around and heading back into the betting shop, Tommy pushed open the door and walked back into his office and shut the door.

That night, when Tommy returned he saw everyone gathered around the dining table, eating and talking, everyone except you.

You were nowhere to be seen.

"Where's y/n?" Tommy asked, putting away his hat.

Finn looked up at him "Asleep on the sofa"

"she looked so worn down this afternoon, decided to let her sleep" Polly put down her cup "wake her up will you, she's got to eat atleast"

Turning around to walk down the hallway into the living room, Tommy saw your sleeping figure on the sofa and moved to you.

calling your name he nudged you awake, he didn't expect you to startle awake before he even got close to you.

Standing there, while you snapped your head to look at him, he raised a brow. "You wake like that normally eh?"

Rolling your eyes, you rubbed your eyes and got off the sofa, walking past your brother.

When you entered the dining room after freshening up you were glad that they acknowledged you but didn't ask much about your day as you were in no mood to talk. Not to mention the fact that you had spotted someone watching the house was definitely not making it any better.

You hadn't even noticed at first, but when you'd walked closer to the window to open it you'd noticed a male figure too far to catch his face but close enough to know he was watching the house, at first you assumed it was one of the blinders and went and sat back on the sofa, but realized the hat was different. Not to mention had there been a blinder watching the house, Aunt Pol would have told you before she left that afternoon.

You had wondered how you'd bring it up with your family, but before you could think of a way, you'd fallen asleep. The exhaustion of the last few days had caught up and hit you hard, that not even this could keep you awake.

When Tommy had called your name to wake you, you had woken up scared for a second that the man watching the house had got in. And once you realized it was Tommy, you knew you wouldn't have to wait long to bring it up with Tommy because you were sure he'd talk to you about it before you went to bed.

And after dinner that was precisely what had happened.

Heading up the stairs to your room, the door remained open, you knew Tommy would bound up the stairs after you in a few seconds.

And he did, right on time a few seconds later.

"I presume you know why I'm here" Tommy sat down on your bed. You rolled your eyes but smiled a little at his antics.

sometimes you felt as though the Tommy before the war was still around in the little things such as this. In the sarcastic way he occasionally spoke to you with, just as he often did before the war. The only difference being, at that time it ended with him smiling and laughing at your frustration while you would playfully smack him, now, however- he would sit there expressionless while you would crack a small smile at the tiny glimpse of the boy your brother once used to be.

Folding away your clothes, you said "which one would like to hear first?"

"whichever one that made you pause at the station"

Continuing to shuffle about your room, organizing things, you got to the point " well, I've got this professor, he's strange, I'm not sure how but I've caught him staring at me quite a few times, not in a perverted way, i don't think" you shrugged "just in a way like- he knows something about me that I don't sort of way you know" Tommy's eyes narrowed.

"and then last few days on my way back, been feeling like I'm being followed, I don't think it's Isaiah since I know he's there, but like its someone else but it's probably just Isaiah and-" you paused to turn and look at your brother "have you had a blinder watching the house today?"

Tommy sat up straight and looked at you carefully "no"

Shoulders slumping, you sighed "well in that case someone's watching the house. Don't know who though"

"can you describe him?" Tommy asked.

"not really, he was a bit far off, but I think he wore a coat"

anything else?" Tommy pressed.

"I think, I could be wrong" you said " but I think he had a stick- a walking stick I mean"

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #peaky blinders oc #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #arthur shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby angst #peaky blinders angst #geekwritersworld

[b-a-n-a-n-a-ss]

Peaky Blinders: Shelby’s x shelby!reader

Summary: the reader is poisoned when at a party. She returns home in an immense amount of pain. Then her brothers take care of her.

Warnings: crying, fluff, poison, vomit, throwing up, pain.

—————————

As [y/n] Shelby walked home from the party she had just attended; she noticed a pain growing in her stomach. It was sharp and she could hardly walk.

When she entered the Shelby household she had a arm wrapped around her stomach and her face scrunched in pain. She dropped her bag to the ground with a thud then she slowly sank to her knees as she clutched her stomach for dear life.

She moaned in pain as John walked over to her body. He kneeled down beside her and placed a hand on her back.

“[y/n]? Are you okay?” He asked as he slowly rubbed her back.

[y/n] only groaned and that was enough for John to pick her up and bring her to the couch. He gently laid her down and she cried out a little in pain. Johns heart ached watching his sister hurt.

“Arthur! Tom! Come down here!” John yelled then kneeled beside his younger sister, gently stroking her hair. Heavy footsteps approached the two and the eldest brothers came running into the living room. John quickly stood up and Tommy quickly took his place.

“What’s wrong [y/n]?” He asked. Y/n moaned and panted as she replied.

“M-my stomach hurts. Please make it stop Tommy.” She cried. Tommy put a hand on her sweaty forehead and frowned. She was burning up and her face had a blue color to it.

A sharp pain erupted in y/ns stomach and she clutched it and hissed violently. She started to sob and Tommy picked her up and brought her to the bathroom. The two brothers followed and Tommy sat her in front of the toilet.

Y/n moaned and she struggled to catch her breath.

“It hurts, it hurts so bad.” She screamed. Tommy knew what was happening, he had seen it before. She was poisoned.

“I know y/n I know.” Tommy whispered.

“Y/n I’m sorry to do this but I have to. It may hurt.” Tommy warned. Arthur kneeled behind the two and John stood at the doorway.

Tommy shoved his fingers down y/ns throat. She gagged then threw up into the toilet. Tommy did it again and she threw up for a second time. After the third time she was weaker than ever and she fell back into Arthur’s chest. She was shaking like a leaf and all her brothers felt horrible.

“Is it all gone? Will I feel better?” Y/n asked as she leaned her head into the crook Arthur’s neck. Tommy placed a hand on her knee and rubbed it comfortingly.

“I hope so y/n.” He said. John kneeled on y/ns other side and gently rubbed up and down her leg. Y/n swallowed thickly and nodded her head. She felt so cold and so weak. Arthur wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss to her head.

“I’m s-so cold.” Y/n whimpered.

“Let’s go out you to bed ‘eh?” Arthur asked. Y/n nodded and Arthur picked her up. He took her to her room and John moved the covers back. Arthur laid y/n down on her bed and covered her up. The three brothers looked down at their sister with sad eyes. She was still shivering and she looked so weak.

John kissed y/ns head and then left the room. The other two did the same and y/n was alone. She slept for a little bit until she woke up. Her stomach had a full ache in it and she got scared that she was going to have to throw up again.

She got up and walked downstairs. She had her blanket around her shoulders. She saw her two oldest brothers sitting on the couch smoking cigarettes and looking into the fire. Their low voices echoed through the living room.

Y/n entered the living room more and the two men looked at her and sat up.

“Are you okay y/n?” Tommy asked. Y/n moved and sat between her two brothers.

“My stomach hurts again.” She said. She looked up at Tommy with fear in her eyes.

“What if it didn’t all get out?” She asked with a slight quiver in her voice. Tommy rested his hand on his knee and shook his head lightly.

“It did, I promise. Stomach aches usually happen after that kind of thing.” Tommy said. Y/n nodded her head but winced a little as her stomach pain became more noticeable. She shuffled closer to Arthur and laid her head on his shoulder. Arthur draped his arm across her shoulders and laid his head ontop of hers.

Tommy leaned against y/ns other side and his head on her shoulder. He gently placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed it lightly. She sighed and nuzzled her head further into Arthur’s shoulders. Tommy kissed her cheek and continued to rub her stomach.

“Get some sleep y/n. Please, we’ll be right here if you need anything.” Arthur said and kissed her head one last time before the three of them fell asleep.

#fanfic #fanfiction #x y/n #fluff #x reader #reader insert #angst #y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #shelby sister #john shelby #peaky fucking blinders #party poison #hurtful