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jomarch-wannabe · 1 year

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I want you (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader)

Paring: Arthur Shelby x female reader

Synopsis: Reader confesses her feelings for Arthur

Warnings: Smut 🔞(Implied age gap, major daddy issues, kissing, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink, swearing, innocent reader), Angst (some tears), Fluff (beautiful exchange of words, Arthur being intoxicating and dreamy)

Author’s note: I’ve been in an Arthur mood lately. I just feel so bad for him honestly, he deserved better. The feelings expressed in this fic are genuine.

Better vibes if you listen to “Body Electric or Ultraviolence” by Lana Del Ray while reading

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“I want you Arthur.”

He scoffed, shifting uncomfortably under your straddled legs, moving your position slightly.

“You don’t want me.” He argued with a sigh, “I’m a broken man,” he gestured to his head, pulling at his brown strands in frustration. “M’ all messed up in me head.”

In curiosity you touched his face, exploring the warmth of his skin, making his breath hitch. Your heart beat faster as you thumbed over his stubble, awestruck by the form of a man.

“Arthur,” you took in a breath, and in a sincere tone said, “I need you.” His eyes split from yours in shame, lost in thought as he observed the fireplace behind you. “Look at me.”

His blue irises found yours with the guidance of your hand, flickering with specks of orange. “I need you.”

“I don’t want Tommy, or John,” you shook your head, “I need a real man. You’re real Arthur.” Your fingers pressed over his heart. “You feel.”

His heart thumped against your fingertips, pulsing with adrenaline as he took in your words. His face softened, brows lowering as his guard did too, maybe he believed you.

“You’re really somethin special,” his eyes blinked as they took you in, dark lashes fluttering slightly, “y’know that?”

His words of praise caught you off guard, making your breath waver.

“Please Arthur.” You chewed the inside of your lip, blinking back tears. “Will you love me?” As you shared breaths for a moment your thoughts recessed into the past, remembering the absent love of your father. The pain of it all came out in an unexpected tear, rolling down your cheek and splashing on his shirt.

He took in an audible breath, triggered by your emotiveness.

“Of course I’ll love you.” He caved, reaching a hand for your face. His touch was gentle, grazing your fragile face like water running over rocks. “I promise. I do love you.”

For a moment your eyes danced over each other, hoping to communicate in their glossy movements the words you couldn’t convey.

All at once he leaned in, capturing your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

The impact took a breath from your lungs, making your shoulders drop in relief.

You couldn’t help but whimper, feeling between your legs rush with heat as he claimed you.

You kissed him back with longing. Wanting to be as close to him as possible. To consume him. To be consumed by him. To be owned by him. It wasn’t a lust, it was a need. Somewhere to place the longing. To fill the hole in your heart for a provider. A protector that you never had.

Your lips parted from his for a second, allowing you the chance to take in a heavy breath, shaking with anticipation.

He found you again, pulling you towards him with his hand sliding up your hair. His skilled fingers raised goosebumps on your skin as they snaked against your neck, pulling his pillowy soft lips against yours.

His hands on your body were ethereal. Intentional. It felt like a hot shower of kisses from head to toe, mind numbing.

Your cheek tickled with the movement of his jaw, brushing his mustache against your face as he parted your lips with his tongue.

With a breathy moan you let him in, feeling his wet tongue collide with yours. Searching for friction, you couldn’t help but grind your hips forward, stimulating your clit against the hard bulge in his trousers.

The movement earned a groan from him, vibrating against your lips.

Your hands found themselves in his hair, playing with the soft strands, wanting to feel every inch of him. Wanting him close.

They trailed down the back of his neck, warmed by his body heat.

In eagerness you spoke, breaking the kiss. “Arthur..” your lips hovered against his, sharing heavy breaths as his eyes came into view. His blue irises were nearly invisible, overshadowed by round, lust blown pupils.

Heat flushed on your skin as his hand slid to the front of your face. His knuckles bent, sliding over your cheek in tender strokes.

“Y/n..” his attention was glued to you as he took you in, “y/n..” he was awestruck, repeating your name like a prayer, realizing it was you all along.

“Please Arthur, have me.” Your hands slid over his hard chest, through the cool, thin fabric of his shirt. “Please,” there was a neediness in your voice, “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” His stroking of your cheek continued as he spoke, “Don’t want to hurt you love.”

You shook your head yes, thumbing the fabric between your fingers. “I trust you.”

Those three words set the match ablaze, never hearing such a phrase from anyone else. To be seen as a man, not a monster.

Without wasting any time he leaned forward, peppering kisses on your neck. You squirmed slightly, surprised by the sudden contact. His facial hair tickled your neck as his hands slid up your back, thumbing the straps of your dress.

“Arthur..” his name evaporated off of your tongue like an anthem, a pledge of your loyalty to him. Your hand found itself against his neck, holding on him for stability as he sucked against your pulsing veins.

His mouth work distracted you from his hand movements, only when your skin raised a chill were you aware of your bareness.

In admiration he pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, taking in your supple skin, lit up in an orange hue from the nearby flames. Gawking at your pink nipples standing erect in the exposure of the cool air.

“You’re gorgeous.” He praised, murmuring against your skin as he planted his lips in between your chest.

“Arthur please..I can’t wait anymore..” you whimpered, arching your back in eagerness, sending your chest forward.

He smirked against your skin, pulling back and holding you by the waist. His large hands around your petite frame, a beautiful contrast that made your stomach flutter. The guidance of firm hands easily maneuvered you backwards. You didn’t resist, squeaking the cushions beneath as you sunk into them, watching him hover above you.

You kicked off the remainder of your dress as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his toned chest, decorated with straight dark hair and a cross tattoo. His lean muscles rippled with his movements. The sight made you swallow in nervousness.

The chain around his neck rattled as his hands unworked the sleeves, shuffling his shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

Your abdomen caved in as you breathed heavily, admiring his angular masculine frame.

The cushions dipped with his weight as he knelt down, fingers grazing your skin as he hooked your panties, nearly exposing you if not for hand darting out to stop him.

“Wait! Can you-“ you stumbled over your words in nervousness. He noticed, curling his fingers around yours, warming them in a reassuring display of affection. “Can you go first?” You chewed your lip, “I’m nervous.”

“Yea, yea of course love.” He assured in a passive tone, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “Want you to be comfortable.”

His words brought you relief, relaxing your defensive posture. Unlike the other men in your past, he didn’t force his hand.

He leaned back slightly, sitting on his heels.

Your eyes danced over his shifting knuckles, to the glinting of his rings in the firelight as he reached for his belt, unlatching it.

The sharp metallic sound made your stomach drop. In his moment of occupation you couldn’t help but gawk at him as his hair hung over his chiseled jaw. His strong, prominent nose stuck out of the textured strands as he looked down, shuffling down his trousers until only his white boxers remained.

Anticipating his bare body made your thighs clench together, squeezing against your throbbing clit.

The fabric of his briefs slid against his thighs at an achingly slow pace, breaking the silence of the otherwise still room.

Finally, a patch of course brown hair revealed itself at the base of his length. With a huff he pulled the garment all the way down, releasing his hardened cock.

Your mouth fell agape at his size, “Christ”, you murmured under your breath. His hips shifted as he pulled the fabric down his ankles, making his length bob at the movement. He was longer than he was thick, with a crimson tip, and one vein running erect down the side.

His eyes flicked to you after he tossed his garment to the floor, catching your trance like fixation on his body.

“Like what you see love?” He chuckled, revealing the dimple in his cheek as he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

Heat spread over your face at his observation. Habitually, your bottom lip pulled into your teeth as you found him with your eyes, nodding.

“Won’t make you wait any longer then.” A shadow cast over your body as he leaned down, hovering at your pelvis.

Looking up through his brows, his fingers worked up your thighs. The coolness of his rings made your skin twitch. Finally, he reached the hem of your panties, decorated with a tiny bow in the center.

They were white. Lace. Like something belonging to a little girl. His large, muscular hands a delicious contrast as he hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling down.

A slick sheen of arousal glistened between your thighs in the light, exposing your neediness.

“Fucking hell.” He took in a breath, swallowing in nervousness and anticipation. You were a sight that was tempting beyond human comprehension. Innocent, untouched, begging to be broken. His jaw clenched as he fought to restrain himself, wanting in that moment to consume you. To ruin you. To taint you. To make you his.

Your panties found themselves on the floor with his careless hand, eager to find themselves in your flesh, groping and parting at your thighs.

In reflex your legs squeezed together, trapping his hands as you searched for friction. His eyes widened in surprise and intrigue.

“Mm.. sorry..” you let out a breathy laugh as you parted your thighs, releasing his hands. “I need you so bad.” You were writhing now, whining, about to burst.

He let out a dry chuckle, sliding his hands up your waist, over your ribs. He changed positions, leaning over top of you on his elbows. In closeness the musk of cologne and whiskey evaporated off of his skin, as he finally closed the gap between you.

His face hovered inches from yours, fanning you with his exhales as his eyes danced over your flushed cheeks, protruding lips, swollen from biting them.

You took him in, starstruck at the look in his eye. The wanting. The desire. His chest rose and fell in your line of view, skimming your erect nipples.

“Are you ready love?” His raspy baritone sent chills down your skin as he awaited a response.

The fire behind you cracked as you took in a breath, “Yes.” Your hand slid over his back, holding onto his warm, muscular frame. “Please Arthur. I’m ready.”

His thin lips pulled into a smirk of affection. He took his eyes from you in concentration, reaching for his length. His chest impeded your view, raising your senses. The bulbous head of his cock bumped against your entrance suddenly, making you gasp.

“I’ll go slow,” he reassured you, planting his lips on your cheek.

Carefully, he pushed into you, evoking a unison groan as his long cock stretched your sensitive walls out.

“Oh my god.. fuck!” You breathed in short breaths, overcome with pleasure and nervousness. Your grip on his back tightened, tugging at the shifting muscles.

“Christ.” He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as you squeezed him.

His hips pushed upward, building the pressure in your core as they collided with your thighs, burying himself to the hilt. Having him inside you created a fullness that you’ve never felt. A numbing pleasure. You pulled away slightly at the stimulation, unfamiliar with such a feeling. Each subtle twitch of his cock aroused your sensitive walls.

“You alright?” He breathed in an attentive tone, positioning his arm beside you.

You nodded, holding back a moan, “Yea, feels really good.”

With your confirmation he pulled out, leaving you empty and squeezing nothing. With a shaky breath he pushed back into you, quicker this time with the help of your slick arousal. The impeding of his length nudged a particular spot inside of you, making your toes curl.

“Do that again..” you begged, breathing heavily as your eyes fell closed, soaking in the feeling.

He lowered on his elbows for leverage, thrusting back into you with a groan. The stimulation made your eyes roll back.

“Faster.. please..”

Chasing his high, he picked up his pace, flexing his core against yours as he pulled in and out of you.

“Fucking hell love…” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, nudging it with his nose. “Y’feel so fucking good.” His voice vibrated against your neck, sending chills down your skin.

A whimper left your mouth at his praise. He noticed murmuring, “Such a good girl,” as his rhythm grew harder and faster, stimulating your nipples as his chest brushed against yours. Over and over.

His thrusting felt so good, you couldn’t help but pull him closer, hooking a leg around his to keep him inside of you. The pendant from his neck swung over you with his movements, making you twitch when the cool metal grazed your skin. The repeated intrusion of his length nudged a sensitive spot inside of you, building your climax with short, intense bursts of pleasure.

“Mmm..” you whimpered, heaving in short breaths, “Arthur don’t stop, don’t stop I’m gonna..” your thoughts cut off with a mind numbing thrust.

“Y’close love?” He managed to groan out.

His pace was intense now, creating loud slapping with the colliding of your skin.

Your arousal pooled out of you, you could feel it coating your thighs as he drew out your orgasm.

“Y-yes..”

His lips made contact with your neck, planting intentional kisses up your jaw, and to your lips.

“Look at me love.”

Your eyes fluttered open, finding his beautiful face hovering above yours, framed with greasy strands of hair hanging down.

“Wanna see you when you come.” Your hand found a place in his hair, pulling him towards you with the hold on his roots.

His lips met yours, pulling at your lips in a heated kiss. He sucked in a breath against your cheek, savoring the taste of your mouth against his.

Unknowingly your walls squeezed him as your neared your peak, making him grunt and groan against you.

You broke from his mouth whimpering, “I’m gonna-“ your eyes squeezed shut- “Arthur..” your nails dug into his back, slipping slightly from the sheen of sweat.

“Come for me love,” his raspy accent sending you over the edge, “come for me.”

His pace didn’t falter as you fell over the edge, whimpering as your thighs shook uncontrollably in ecstasy. Intense waves of pleasure moved from your stomach, down to your toes.

“Arthur.. fuck..” Your grip tightened on his flexing muscles as he thrusted in and out of you, reaching his own high with the help of your convulsing walls.

“Christ.. ah-“ his hips stuttered, “I’m coming..”

“Please Arthur, come inside of me..” you moaned breathily, moving your hand to his face.

His pace staggered as he groaned lowly emptying himself inside of you, filling you with warmth.

“Fuck…”

The shallow rocking of his hips created wet squelching as your arousal mixed, riding out your highs.

Once he was satisfied he pulled out, resting his weight on top of you as you shared heavy breaths, staring at each other in ecstasy.

“Fuck..” you couldn’t help but curse, giggling under his gaze as your hands wrapped around his neck. Your legs pulled him close to you, savoring the weight of his warm, sweaty body against yours.

“You’re fucking perfect love.” The phrase held a tone of the upmost sincerity, as his blue eyes bore into yours, shadowed with his long strands.

Your cheeks flushed at his praise.

His hand found place on your waist, rolling to his back. He huffed slightly as he changed your positions, guiding you to his chest with his hands.

A content sigh left his parted lips as he adjusted himself. You too made yourself comfortable, nudging your head into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours brought you peace as you wrapped a hand around his torso, craving intimacy.

A warmth spread over your shoulder with his hand, holding you close as he used the other to reach for a cigarette.

“Your rings are cold..”

“Shit, sorry love,” his hand lifting quickly from you to pull them off. They rattled as he sat them on the coffee table, repositioning his hand over you.

Your body raised slightly as he sat up, earning a tired moan from you as his lighter clicked. A spark of orange illuminated your skin as he cast the cigarette aflame, laying back down and taking in a drag.

His mind wandered as he let out a breath of smoke, leaving a gray cloud swirling in the dim room. The weight of you against him was soothing. Made him feel needed. His grasp tightened around you, holding onto this moment, securing you close.

“You know,” your voice held a sleepy tone as your eyes flicked over the dying flames, “They’re so cruel to you.”

“But Arthur,” you raised your head, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “I love you.”

His eyes flicked over yours as he looked down his nose, taking in your words.

“I love you.” You repeated, eyes watering with tears as your fingers thumbed his chest.

A warmth spread over your cheek with his hand as he held it, taking you in with his shiny blue eyes. “I love you too.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek at his words, caught with his finger.

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Let me know your thoughts below!! I thoroughly enjoyed writing for Arthur, I don’t see many fics of him out there.

Gif from @alicent-targaryen 🥰

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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

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

Words: 2.6k

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

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

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

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

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

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

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

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

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

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

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

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

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

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

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

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

[…]

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

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

[…]

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

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

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

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

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

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

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

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

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

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

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

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

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

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

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

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

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fandom-puff · 2 months

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hi, congrats on 10k!!! could i request a baby blurb of reader taking care of arthur shelby? any context, just feel like i don’t see too much of him any more!! <3

Thank you! And yes, I’ve missed writing for Arthur too <3

Warnings: blood, injury, reference to fighting, swearing

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Polly groaned as Arthur and john stumbled into the snug, their faces bloody. John was holding a handkerchief to his nose, Arthur had a gash on his cheek.

Your eyes flashed as they explained the brawl they’d come from, and you rolled your eyes as John laughed cockily, before you turned to your husband.

“You. Sit,” you said sternly, hands on your hips as you nodded to the booth. John laughed, commenting that Arthur was definitely in trouble, but a glare from you shut him up.

You sighed as you fussed over Arthur, tutting as you examined his face. “Well, you should count yourself lucky you don’t need stitches,” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead despite your frustration. “This’ll sting,” you said quickly, before holding a clean handkerchief soaked in gin to his cut cheek.

Arthur groaned, his hand gripping yours and you smiled weakly as he squeezed, his teeth gritted. “Sorry love,” he said gruffly. You hummed in acceptance, cleaning his wound.

“You’re forgiven,” you told him fondly, kissing him gently. “Now hold that on your cheek until the bleeding stops, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Thanks love, patching me up… don’t know what I’d do without you,”

#fandom puff’s 10k celebration #10k baby blurbs #Arthur Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby fluff #Arthur Shelby x you #arthur shelby #peaky blinders x reader

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daisyblinder · 1 year

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Arthur and Thomas Shelby with a touch starved!SO / Headcanon

🦋 Arthur

🦋 Arthur is very touch starved himself

🦋 Though at first he would be hesitant about being extremely touchy because he doesn't think you'd like to have him touch you so much

🦋 Then he notices the subtle cues:

🦋 You slowly inching towards him when standing near him

🦋 Your fingers twitching to hold his hand

🦋 Your whole body leaning for more when he pulls away from a kiss

🦋 at night you'd cling to him like a baby monkey

🦋 when you hug you always seem to cling to him a bit tighter than one normally would

🦋 He starts showering you with affection sneakily

🦋 He doesn't want to startle you by asking about such sensitive thing

🦋 Every time you see him, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, kiss you on your forehead before pecking your lips.

🦋 John thinks Arthur is being ridiculous but Arthur isn't too bothered. A gentle "fuck off" is enough to have John off your case

🦋 In family gatherings, parties, on nights out, his arm is always around you

🦋 Doesn't care people think he is being clingy, which he is, he sees how happy you are when he is

🦋 Loves how flustered you get when he kisses your neck, his mustache tickling you

🦋 If you tease him, he will sometimes just grasp you by the waist and rub his mustache against your neck as "revenge"

🦋 You get less shy about being touch starved due to noticing how much he loves touching you

🦋 You start showering him with affection too; cheek kisses, forehead kisses, massages, holding him from behind and leaning your head on his shoulder while he talks to his brothers

🦋 On bad days you both do this one exactly the same thing

🦋 Once you get in each other's embrace on bad days, the first word that leaves your mouths is: "Tighter"

🦋 You hold each other so tightly, in a normal day it would be uncomfortable.

🦋 But on those days; it feels so good to be held like that, it makes you cry

🦋 All in all, you two are one really touchy and cute couple

🦋 When time goes, you two get louder about it with each other

🦋 "Darling, come here and give me a kiss and my shoulders a little rub"

🦋 "Go lay down on the bed, I want a cuddle too"

🦋 Polly and Ada think you two are cuter than baby kittens

🦋 If you ever have kids they for sure learn how to ask for affection

🦋 "Uncle Tommy, I know you are grumpy but I want a kiss"

🦚 Thomas

🦚 Tommy would be a little cold at first, even when noticing your need for his touch (this man has also managed to go in full denial about his own touch starvation)

🦚 He doesn't want you to end up like many others he's loved

🦚 So he thinks it's best to act like he doesn't notice how much you need him to hold you

🦚 Which works really well (spoiler: it doesn't)

🦚 You end up crying a lot

🦚 When Tommy hears you crying yourself to sleep, his heart cracks

🦚 So he pulls you against him tightly, and presses his lips to your neck

🦚 "sweetheart, I'm here. Shh, sweetheart, turn around so you can hold onto me"

🦚 So you do, you turn around and burrow against him

🦚 That is when you say it: You tell him, how much his touch means to you, you tell him about your loneliness, you tell him all of it

🦚 Tommy lets his guard down quite a bit after that

🦚 Distancing himself might have saved you from the eyes of the people but he could not live with the distance killing you from the inside

🦚 In the safety of your own home, expect a lot of hugs from behind, lots of kisses on the neck

🦚 He will also start tickling you

🦚 Yes, like a child, Thomas cannot resist the urge to tickle your sides almost every time you pass him

🦚 And when you start giggling, he will silence them with a kiss, no matter how much he loves the sound

🦚 NSFW: Also expect a lot of sex. During sex he will also take in this information

🦚 A lot of hand holding, whenever he is going down on you, or you on him

🦚 Intimacy skyrockets, even when you go more rough

🦚 Will absolutely have you ride him, till you are so spent he will hold you completely pressed against him to whisper in your ear

🦚 Before you two go to sleep, you lie down facing each other, foreheads pressed together and talk about your days

🦚 In public Tommy is still not fully comfortable with showing affection

🦚 But he will greet you by pressing a kiss to your shoulder, no matter where you are

🦚 He will also subtly have a hand down the small of your back to let you know he is always there

🦚 Tommy will finally have to admit to his own touch starvation, and not just need for sex

🦚 Expect to become the big spoon when cuddling

🦚 Doesn't admit it but he likes it when you hug him against your chest when he is sitting down and you are standing

🦚 He loves it when he sits on his chair and you hug him from behind the back of the chair and lean your cheek completely against his

🦚 His eyes will not stay open when you do this, and you adore that. Seeing him so relaxed is a rare sight

Would you guys like to see John in these? I am open to adding him, I haven't added him yet because I'm not sure how well I can write him.

#arthur shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby fluff #peaky blinder imagine #fluff #arthur shelby imagine #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader

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shelbyssins · 1 year

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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

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barrykeoghanstan · 8 months

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Birmingham's Sunshine

Arthur Shelby x Fem!OC

Warnings: Age gap (10 years)

A/N: I have no clue what spirit possessed me to write this, but here we are. I am by no means a writer, and this is the first fic I have ever written, but I hope you enjoy none the less. 💙

Amelia pushed the doors the Garrison open with a bright smile on her face. Waltzing to the bar, she stopped seeing her best friend. "Well, hello Arthur," she said with a small giggle, placing a kiss on his cheek.

If you want to talk about unlikely pairings, Amelia and Arthur were at the top of that list. Where Arthur was dark and brooding, Amelia was bright and cheery. Where he was rough, she was soft. Where he was filled with anger and violence, Amelia was patient with the heart of a saint. His hands had long since been drenched in blood, and hers were a clean as fresh filled snow. They were complete opposites. He was a monster, at least he thought so. And her? She was Birmingham's sunshine. There was never a day you would find Amelia down in the dumps or without her bright, vivacious smile that brightened up everyone's mood. Even the cold and hardened Thomas Shebly couldn't help but crack a smile at the young girl.

Squished between Arthur and John on the bench in the snuff, Amelia sipped on her gin, her face souring each time she took a sip. Hearing John laugh once more at her, she shoved him light. "Now listen here, John Micheal Shelby. You keep that up, and I have Esme make you sleep in the dog house." That was one thing to know about Amelia while she was sweet and sunny she was not someone you wanted to cross. That is part of what drew Arthur to the younger woman in the first place, but mostly, it was the way she managed to calm his raging mind. "Well, boys, I best be getting home. I've got to be up early for work tomorrow." Tugging her coat over her dress, Amelia situated her hat on her head before reaching for the doorknob. " 'Melia wait,' Arthur's gruff voice called out, turing to him with her head tilted to the side in question she watched him stand up and walk towards her, with his arm held out. "Oh Arthur, you don't need to walk me home it isn't far," she tried to insit but Amelia knew by the look in her friend's eyes it was no use trying to argue. So, with a smile, she linked her arm with his and led them not if the Garrison ignornoging John's teasing jabs being voiced at their backs.

Back at her flat, Amelia fiddled with the key before finally getting the door open. Stepping into the warmth, she motioned for Arthur to follow. Once inside, she hung up her hat and coat before helping Arthur do the same. These small domestic acts were not uncommon between the pair. In fact, if you simply saw them on the street, you'd be certain they were a couple with how sweet on one another they were.

Moving to the living room, Amelia settled herself on the couch with her head in Arthur's lap after he too sat. Per their, now, usual routine, Arthur played with her hair til the younger girl was almost asleep. Then, with great care, he carried her to bed. Nuzzling into the sheet, Amelia smiled, her eyes still closed. "Stay. Please?" She whispered, her voice almost imperceptible. But Arthur heard it. He would always hear her. Climbing into the empty side off the bed, Arthur felt all of his pain and worries slip away as Amelia wrapped her arms around him. She was his solace, his respite after every bad thing. Allowing himself to place a light kiss in her forehead, Arthur settled into the bed before they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Amelia woke to the rhythmic beating of Arthur's heart in her ear and his arms protectively wrapped around her. Slowly sitting up as not disturbing him, she watched his face, which, for the time being, looked not only younger but peaceful. Brining her hand up, Amelia let her soft fingers gently trace the feature of the man 10 years her senior. With slight hesitation, Amelia leaned down and pressed a kiss to Arthur's cheek, which prompted him to open his eyes. "Morning you," Amelia teased, pushing a stray hair out of his face. God, he looked so pretty. Eyes dipping down to his plush, pink lips, she bit her bottom one as she met his eyes again. Upon doing so, Amelia found Arthhur leaning. Then their lips finally met in a long-awaited kiss. Arthur was the first to pull away after a long moment, pressing his forehead to hers. Calloused hands cupping her face, he smiled lightly. Somethjng that obly ever really hapoe ed around her. "I think I might love you," Amelia admitted, breaking the silence, her eyes darting down nervous to see Arthur's reaction. It was only when his finger tilted her chin up and kissed her once more that she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. " I love you too, sunshine," Arthur's responded, feeling his heart soaring.

And that was the start of something truly special.

#paul anderson #arthur shelby #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #arthur shelby ❤️#first fic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky fucking blinders

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queenquinzel715 · 1 year

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1. Arthur Shelby 18+

Wrd count: 3,146

Y/n P.O.V

Working "with" the Peaky Blinders is stupid, dangerous, and down right wrong. I told my father that when he told me he took a deal with Thomas Shelby, but of course Aberama Gold doesn't listen. Tonight, however, is my brother's fight, and I was not missing it. My friends came with me, so I wouldn't be alone around a bunch of men. Once we get close to where the Blinders hold their fights, I'm nervous. Is my brother a good fighter, without a doubt. I just hope this isn't some trick.

''I can't wait to see Bonnie pummel these city boys." A friend of mine, Tillie, exclaims.

"You just want to see Bonnie." I tease her.

"Oh hush." We all laugh as we walk into the warm warehouse.

As we further inside we hold onto the backs of each other's coats as we try to get around the drunk sweaty men, some moving when they notice us. I look around trying to spot my father or brother, but I'm enticed by the fight. There's a leaky man fighting a big mountain of a man, and he was winning. As the mountain man falls after getting hit with a hard right hook the leaky man just walks around. He lifts his head, and his eyes immediately lock with mine. Someone raising his arm to declare him winner takes his eyes off of mine. My friend Francis pulls at my back and points ahead of me. My father with his charming smirk works his way to us.

"Come! Hold onto me!" He guides us near the back of the warehouse.

He leaves us near the back area where there are some boxes to stand, or sit on. My leg begins to bounce as I watch my father warm up Bonnie. More people begin to crowd around the ring as men dressed in pressed suits walk toward my father. One shakes his and my brother's hands, and they talk for a moment. The man I saw fighting earlier gets into the ring. He is in a suit now with his hair slicked back, and a big cigar in his mouth.

"Beats! Come on, now! Beats!" He shouts.

I smirk as I pull money out of my purse giving it to my friend Francis. I walked behind my father as I leaned against the ropes, holding my hand in the air.

"Oi! I got a pound on the little one!" I shout getting his attention.

He takes his cigar out as he walks over with a smirk.

"You making a beat, love?" He asks, placing his hands on the ropes next to my elbows.

"Gotta support the family dream!" You laugh as you hand him the money.

Bonnie won that fight, obviously, but father wasn't too happy I made the beat. Bonnie laughed as he helped me count it. We ended up camping in Charlie's yard while father works "with" those Blinders. After asking him why we've been camped so much longer than he told me, he reluctantly tells me he has joined the Peaky Blinders as well as Bonnie. Bonnie is a fighter for them in the fairs and warehouses, and my father is a hitman. Don't get me wrong they are great at what they do, but something always goes wrong with these Blinders. I also don't want them losing their true gypsy selves while they are making all this money. Today my brother had a fight in some factory, and I told father I would tag along just in case Bonnie gets too rough. They had him fighting a man double his size.

As we walked into the factory I saw a great amount of people showed up, and there was a group already huddled together. My father walks in front of me, Bonnie behind me, as we go toward the huddled group. I then saw the man from the last fight. He was standing with two other well dressed men, and father walked straight to them.

"Mr. Shelby." Father greets.

"Aberama." He nods as he smokes his cigarette.

"This is my daughter (y/n) she's here mostly for support." He jokes.

I chuckle at my father giving him a slight nudge, not taking my eyes away from the tall man.

"I'm John, that is Tommy, and that's Arthur." John introduces us.

"Hello gentlemen." I give a simple head nod.

They finish their drinks in one last swallow before we walk toward the ring. Bonnie hands father his shirt as he goes into the ring, and waits for his opponent. When his opponent gets in he doesn't look as bad as I thought.

"Bets, take your bets now." Arthur yells as he walks around the edge of the ring.

"Yea I got a pound here on the little one." I yell, getting Arthur's attention.

"Again? Didn't make enough last time?" He laughs as he takes my money, and steps out of the ring.

"I support my brother's dream." I shrug, giving him the same answer as they start the fight.

"What's your dream, eh?" He leans a little closer.

"You couldn't handle my dreams, Peaky Boy." I laugh, walking over to my father.

We cheer for Bonnie as he beats this giant that hasn't really thrown any punches. Arthur stayed next to his brothers, but when I would look over at him he would be looking at me. Once the fight is over we sit with the Blinders at The Garrison celebrating Bonnie's win. It's becoming too late for me, but father isn't budging.

"Hey peaky boy." I say as I walk up to Arthur.

"Yes love." He smirks from behind his cigar.

"Would you be so kind as to walk a lady like me to Charlie's yard?" I tried to sound as proper as I could, but I started laughing.

Arthur laughs as he puts his cap on his head, and picks up his coat.

"Come on then." He dubs out his cigar as his hand goes to my lower back.

Walking out of The Garrison it felt like I dropped into a frozen lake, so I pulled my coat closer. He must have seen, because he throws his coat over my shoulders, and replaces his hand to my lower back. Who knew Peaky boys could be gentlemen?

"You'll freeze Arthur." I simply tell him.

He throws this nub of a cigar away as he shrugs, and starts to walk ahead. I do a small little run to catch up to him when I do get close enough I take hold of his arm. The further we walk we told each other small stories from growing up, and the closer we got the more I wanted to go somewhere else. Arthur guides me through Charlie's yard so I don't fall down, and once we get to my caravan next to the horse stables we stop.

"Would you like to come in and get warmed up?" I ask, opening the door.

He only gives me a nod, and follows me inside. Poor man has to slightly crouch as he walks in to sit on the couch in front of the small stove. I lay his coat next to him as I grab some of the small pieces of wood I keep next to the stove.

"Here love, let me." He insists, lighting the stove.

"Thank you Arthur." I smiled at him. "I don't have any whiskey, but I have tea." I giggle as I grab my tea box.

"That's fine." He seems to be getting more comfortable.

"I really appreciate you walking with me. I've heard Small Heath isn't too friendly to women at night." I smirk toward him.

"That's right, 'specially gorgeous ones like you." He plays with the fallen curl.

I watch his eyes look over my face down to my dress, and when I lean closer his eyes snap back to mine. When his lips meet mine I completely melt into the couch with him leaning over me. I arch my back when I feel his hands move to the zipper of my dress. He starts to pull my dress down. His lips attack my chest before my dress even hits the floor. My fingers move over the shaved part of his head to grip the little bit at the top as he softly bites my nipple. I give a shocked moan when I feel the hand that isn't firmly gripping my breast move to my center, then push two fingers inside me.

"Arthur." I lean my cheek to his forehead as I moan.

With a quick kiss he leans back, rubbing down my legs to rest them open as he takes his pants off. I kiss him as I run my fingers over his cross tattoo. As he lays back over me my legs wrap around his waist. Gripping his shoulder he started to enter me slowly, but I needed all of him.

"Please Arthur." I moan desperately.

"I know.." he groans, laying his face in my neck as he pushes all the way.

He sits for a second before moving back to just the tip, gripping my hip as he rams into me. I moan out from shock locking my knees onto his hips. He continues to pound into me, cursing in my ear. I scratch my hands down his back to his lower back feeling just how fast he's actually going. I couldn't stop the harsh release that had my legs shaking. He grabs my chin to move my face to look at him to kiss me hard. I couldn't stop my hips from grinding into his moving ones.

"God…Arthur." I moan as he lifts my legs to his shoulders, releasing deep inside of me.

His head falls to my chest as we catch our breath, and once he catches his breath he picks me up. I could feel him get hard again as he laid me on the edge of the bed. He didn't stop taking me from so many positions until I told him I was crying from being too sensitive.

I woke the next morning to him kissing my shoulder to my ear. While our families worked together he made me stay in Charlie's yard. Which I didn't have any problem with considering every night Arthur would come eat dinner, go to The Garrison, and come back. I couldn't be any more happier with my life, even though we have problems around every turn. My father did eventually find out when he followed Arthur one night when he left the Garrison, and came to my caravan. The next day while the Shelby brothers were in London my father gave me a whole speech on how not to be stupid into thinking a peaky boy would stay around, and how he will hurt me. I ended up cursing him out and locking myself into my caravan. My brother would bring me dinner, but I didn't want to be seen as the stupid gypsy girl that fell for the Peaky Blinder boy.

Today Arthur is supposed to be coming back from London, and I agreed to meet him at Polly's. I however was still locked in my caravan. I know I'm acting childish, but what my father said actually makes sense. What's going to happen when all this is over? I can't permanently stay in Small Heath. Can I?

I jump when someone knocks on my door.

"Love! You in there?" I hear Arthur call out.

I take a deep breath as I go to open. He gives me a big smile when he slouches his way to the couch. He groans when he finally sits.

"Come here." He quickly pulls me to his lap.

He rubs his face into my neck squeezing me close to him. I can't help melting into him. I missed him so much. I giggle at his mustache tickling my neck while he gives me small soft kisses. We stayed in the caravan the rest of the night just laying in bed. I wanted to ask him if this was a long time thing, or was I stupid.

When I wake up the next morning he's gone, but I figured he needed to get to work. I get ready to head to the betting shop, but when I open my door I see a slumped Arthur.

"Oh morning Arthur." I rub my hands over his shoulders while I walk around him. "I was just coming to the betting shop." He doesn't even look at me or respond. "Arthur?"

"Who was he? Hmm?" His head snaps up with a heart crushing look on his face.

"Who?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"You gonna act like you don't know?" He stands from the log he was sitting on. "Your father told me all about how you met a man at The Garrison and brought him here! Now you tell me who?!" He gets angrier, and I just stand there completely blown away.

"My father? I didn't do anything." I tell him honestly.

"You did nothing eh?" His hands go to his hips. "Protecting him tells me everything." He gives me a deadly look before walking away.

"Arthur." I try to reach for him, but he just moves away.

Watching the man I love walk away from me, thinking I not only hurt him, but that I'm a liar does sit right with me. I blink one good time to get the tears to fall only to wipe them away, and march to The Garrison where my father is with my brother. I grab a long stick while I walk. Some men move out of my way whispering how they didn't want to be my husband. I open the doors to the Garrison finding it surprisingly more empty, letting me find my father rather quickly. As I raise the stick is when Bonnie finally sees me, but too late to stop me from connecting the hit. My father falls to the ground with a scream, spilling his drink in the process.

"How could you? You lie on your own daughter?" I go to hit him again, but Bonnie stops me. "Let me go!" I push him away.

"You needed to get away from him, and I knew you wouldn't listen." My father grunts while standing up.

"What did you do?" Bonnie questions our father.

"Oh our bloody brilliant father told Arthur while he was in London I laid with another man!" I can't control myself from jumping onto my father, hitting his shoulders.

Of course Bonnie had to pull me away. I was too focused on yelling at my father that I didn't notice The Shelby brothers coming out of the snug. Bonnie locks my arms across my chest.

"Why would you do that? You know she hasn't been taking care of herself already." Bonnie puts me behind him while he questions our father. "You had no business doing that."

My body has had enough of this nonsense causing my shoulders to slump. I stop Bonnie from going on, and just look at my father.

"Your plan worked, and to make it easier I'm going home." I simply tell him.

I go to leave, but I stop for a second when I see Arthur watching. I don't look at him long before I completely dash out the door. Once outside I run as fast as I can to Charlie's yard. I throw myself into my caravan, locking everything up, and just stay in my bed. I'll pack everything tonight. I can't believe my own father would do this. My door opening makes me move the curtain for the bed. Arthur shuts the door behind him while giving me a sheepish look.

"What are you doing here?" I timidly ask him.

"I want to apologize for not believing you. I should've known when your father said that you were drinking everything that wasn't nailed now." He plays with the key in his hand. "You hate anything that's not whiskey." He chuckles. "I also want to ask ya to not leave." He clears his throat.

"I don't…" He stops me by walking closer, but stops.

"Love I know I should've believed you. I just can't believe anyone would want someone as broken as me."

"You're not broken." I sigh.

He comes, and sits on the edge of the bed. I slowly come up behind him, and he just relaxes against my body.

"I would never do that to you." I lay my head on his shoulder as I whisper my promise to him.

He turns around with a soft smile, and holds my cheek in his hand. I place my hand on his wrist as I deeply kiss him. I was so scared that I lost him. He turns completely around to crawl fully onto the bed. I smile into the kiss when he keeps crawling to make me fall back. His hands start to move quickly removing my close while mine unbutton his shirt and pants. My body just arches to his while he kisses along my stomach, chest, and neck. Once his clothes are gone he lifts my legs to his waist. He leans over me with his arms caging my head in place, giving me a quick kiss before looking into my eyes.

"I'm sorry (y/n)." He whispers to me as he slowly pushes into me until he can't go anymore.

He slowly moves back to snap back, making me gasp. I grip his arm while he grips my thigh. I get completely lost in his moves, in feeling his body on mine, and how amazing he feels.

"You're mine." He whispers in my ear before he bites my shoulder.

My body arches as I let out an uncontrollable moan that shakes my body. Arthur goes faster for a moment, for he holds me tight to him, and releases inside. I gasp from the empty feeling. I can't open my eyes, but I feel him move a blanket over us while he lays next to me. He pulls me back to his warm chest, and he rubs his nose along my shoulder, giving soft kisses.

My father got over me being with Arthur, or he just kept it to himself. Arthur moved me into his apartment when my family had to move to hide. He was there for me when I learned of Bonnie's death, promising me that he'd get the men who did this. Polly took me in when we found out I was pregnant when the brothers were gone. I named my sweet boy Bonnie after his strong uncle. Arthur and I had a lot more children, Harold, Catherine, Norma, Clyde and Helen. Arthur is such a great father, and husband. He however still is a Blinder. Once a Blinder always a Blinder, I suppose.

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eviegray · 2 years

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❛ dating arthur shelby would include ❜

。to anyone else, arthur was nothing more than the devil's reincarnation... to you, arthur was only gentle, caring and loving.

。often are the times when you two don't need words to communicate. all you need is to look at each other's faces and smile, knowing well what both of you mean.

。arthur loves when you hold him after a long day. as soon as he comes home, he takes off his hat and jacket and almost runs towards you. he particularly likes to lay on your legs, by the fireplace, while you caress his face or hair.

。he understands and appreciates every single thing you do for him when he struggles. but he helps you too... arthur will hold you close to him while you cry and will listen to whatever haunts your mind.

。often surprises you with flowers because they are beautiful and it reminds him of you.

。reminds you daily how beautiful and special you are.

。"You are the finest, loveliest and most beautiful person I have ever known... and even that is an understatement."

。he is admittedly terrified of the idea of losing you... he's never really loved anyone as much as he loves you.

。"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together... keep me in your heart. I'll stay there forever."

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky fookin blinders #arthur shelby fluff #paul anderson

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insanitybyanothername · 1 year

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WILL SOMEONE, ANYONE, WRITE SOME GOD DAMN ARTHUR SHELBY X READER STORIES, FLUFF, AND SMUT. As much as I adore Tommy, I only find Tommy stories and sweet Arthur deserves love too.

#dom!tommy shelby #arthur shelby #arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby smut #arthur shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #shelby brothers #peaky blinders #paul anderson #cillian murphy

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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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

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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 2

Adultery with Arthur Shelby

"Just One Bite"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You & Arthur take comfort in each other's arms after Linda aims her wrath at both of you.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, injury/blood (only a little), jealousy, reference to potential verbal/mental abuse from Linda, swearing, pet names, fingering, creampie, vaginal sex, light dirty talk, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst

From the moment you had been moved into the position of Arthur's secretary, his wife Linda had marked you as a whore out to steal, or at the very least corrupt, her husband.

It was like she thought you had been sent personally by the devil to lure him away from Linda and negate her religious appeals to Arthur. You were the snake in the garden of Eden and yet somehow also the apple. Tempting Arthur to take a bite of you. You were an apple Linda was sure her husband could never resist. He would never be able to resist you and all that came with you after just one bite of your forbidden fruit.

None of that had been your intention, of course, at least originally. When you saw Arthur, you saw a man who needed help. You saw a man struggling to hold onto himself as he was pulled in all directions by opposing riptides. You just wanted to be the buoy to help keep him afloat or the lighthouse shining in the distance, showing him where the shoreline was. You wanted to help him and the rest of the Shelby's, and so that became your job.

It was Linda and her cruel behavior towards both you and Arthur that had driven the two of you together. That first night anything happened, it had all been because of her. She had stormed into his office at the Garrison in a rage over something, and once she was done with Arthur, she was still hungry for more blood. So she set her sights on you. Verbally abusing you and destroying your desk in the process. You knew she was probably high on cocaine. That was the only way you could explain the venom that she unleashed that night towards both of you.

After she had finally left, silent tears started to slide down your cheeks. You refused to let her see you cry. Her words had cut far deeper than the damage done to your belongings and the business papers she had thrown around. In silence, you got down onto the ground and started cleaning up the mess. Uncrumpling and trying to piece together torn bits of paper. As you worked, you hadn't realized that Arthur was watching you or that you had kneeled down on shards of glass from a broken picture frame until he said something.

"You're bleeding."

His voice made you jump, and suddenly, you felt the small cuts on your knees. Stinging with the sudden movement. Quickly rocking to your feet to relieve the pressure on your newly discovered injuries. Blood smeared on the floor, several papers, and yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur, uh, Mr. Shelby. I'll get this cleaned up right away, and I'll retype any papers that I soiled or were damaged before I leave tonight."

Just as quickly as you finished talking, Arthur responded. Your eyes snapped back up from the papers you had been trying to gather up. A softness in his blue eyes. You weren't sure whether it was sadness or caring. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

"No. No, you won't. We will clean this up together, but only after you let me fix you up. Don't want one of the only nice, tolerable people in this city out sick because she let some silly cuts get all infected."

You gave him a soft smile for his kindness. Still planning to dismiss his gestures, but he didn't give you the chance.

"Come 'ere. I got a kit in my desk. Besides, it was my wife who made this mess. It's my job to clean it up, and that includes you."

After quickly pulling the tin box from a drawer and grabbing a bottle of alcohol he patted the top of his desk. Signaling for you to sit there as he plopped down in his regular chair. He took a long swig from the bottle of whiskey and offered it to you. You followed suit. Needing something to calm your nerves, both from Linda's explosion and from the fact that you were currently sat on your boss's desk and you knew his head and his hands would soon be rather close to your most intimate places. You couldn't help but notice the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You crossed your legs at the ankles and squeezed your thighs together as you pulled your skirt up just over your knees. Your stockings were clearly ruined. They had become more or less shredded from the glass and tinged red from your blood. A sad sigh fell from your lips as you surveyed the damage. Arthur surreptitiously casting sidelong glances at you as he unpacked the first aid box.

"These were my favorites too."

"I'll make sure you get a little extra pay this week. To replace them. It's only fair. It's my fault, after all."

You shrugged at his statement. If Arthur had his way, he would blame everything in the entire world on himself. That was one of the things you desperately wanted him to see differently.

"Linda seems to think it's my fault."

"Yeah, well Linda's fucking mental. Not sure anything could ever be your fault. I'm not sure you've ever even made a spelling error, let alone any of the shit she's on about."

You giggled at that. Your smile making his freckled cheeks blush just a tad.

"Well, if you think I've never made a spelling error, you may need your eyes checked, Arthur."

You both shared a little smile. The flutter in your stomach picked up again as you looked into his eyes. A flush started to show more clearly on his cheeks before he quickly looked down. Starting to survey the scrapes on your knees. Clearly unsure of where to put his hands.

"Ummm… I think I actually need to take these off. To make sure there isn't any glass in the cuts."

He waited for you to respond, glancing up at you under his thick eyelashes. Part of him was waiting for you to shove him away for even suggesting he take off your stockings, but another part of him was ready to beg like a dog for a chance to touch you.

Perhaps there was some truth to some of what Linda had accused him of. He did harbor a bit of a crush on you, but he was sure you were completely unattainable to him even if he wasn't a married man. Someone so sweet, intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous would never fall for him. You were so far out of his league that you were in a completely different ballpark, and yet you didn't act like it. You didn't snub your nose at him or his family the way Linda always had.

"Oh, um, okay. I trust you, Arthur."

Your voice was a little shaky as you said it. Only because you couldn't read his emotions. Did he want you to do it? Or did he want to do it himself?

In all honesty, you kind of wanted him to do it. You were already getting blamed for having an affair with him, when in reality, you just had a stupid school girl crush on your boss. This was probably going to be the closest you ever got to living out one of your fantasies. So, without another word, you kicked off your shoes and waited to see what would happen next.

Arthur slowly placed one hand on your shin, gauging your response before slowly moving it up to the outside of your thigh to find the top of the stocking and your garter. Making sure you didn't protest before his other hand followed, this time on the inside of your thigh. Your legs spreading just enough to allow his hand access. Slowly pulling your garter off and setting it to the side before moving back to slowly start peeling your silk stocking down your leg.

His breath hitching when his fingertips brushed the supple skin of your inner thighs. You were so warm, and your skin was so incredibly soft. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning. He repeated his actions on your other leg and had to fight the urge to touch you further. To spread you open for him just a little bit more. Just enough so he could bury his head between your thighs. He was sure you would taste better than the sweetest sugar.

You were suddenly very aware of the heat growing at your core as you watched his gentle movements. He touched you like you were a porcelain doll who would shatter if he was too rough. His calloused fingertips ghosted over your inner thigh. So very close to where you secretly wanted him to touch you. Where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to touch you too.

Once both your stockings had been discarded, Arthur started studying your wounds a little closer. Looking for any shards of glass that may have gotten stuck in your skin.. Bringing your feet up initially to rest on his chest, just below his shoulder, before realizing how much the image of you like that made his head spin. Settling to let your feet rest on his thighs Not that that worked to diffuse any of the sexual tension in the air that was growing thicker with each passing second.

You could feel the strong muscles of his legs shifting under the soles of your feet as he moved to pour a decent amount of whiskey onto a clean rag. Part of you wanted to be exactly the kind of woman Linda already thought you were. How short a distance you would have to move your foot to start caressing Arthur's crotch. Wondering what he would feel like as you rubbed him. Wondering how big his cock was. The sounds he would make if you did. There was little point in denying what felt so obvious between you at that moment.

You wanted him, and he wanted you just the same. You made a silent promise that you would treat him far better than Linda did. Your mind was thinking of all the things Linda probably refused to do that you happily would. There was no way she wasn't a prude in bed. You wondered just how many pleasures you could grant him that she wouldn't. How many pleasures he was used to being denied.

It was Arthur's voice that pulled you from your wicked thoughts.

"Right. This is gonna sting like hell."

That was all the warning you got before he pressed the whiskey soaked rag onto the cuts. He was right. It hurt. You grabbed at your skirt, holding the fabric tightly in your fingers as you tried to breathe through the pain. Balling the fabric up in your fists and without realizing it, causing it to ride up, baring more of your thighs, and even granting Arthur a peek at the gusset of your panties.

They weren't particularly fancy. A simple silk in a soft shade of mauve. He knew he was an absolute goner as soon as he saw them and how they were clinging to the plump lips of your cunt. He could practically feel you clench and relax your inner muscles as he moved the rag off of your now clean scrapes. He barely managed to keep his damaged mind focused long enough to place a gauze bandage on each knee.

His resolve finally cracked completely when he had the idea to place a soft kiss over each bandage. A sweet gesture on its own, but when paired with his now dilated eyes, one that you knew meant he had more sinful desires on his mind. Your hand reflexively went to brush through his hair as his lips touched the first bandage. Gripping the longer strands when he moved to the second.

His face began nuzzling the inside of your knee. His gruff whimpers against your skin, giving you a last chance to tell him to stop. To push him away. It only made you pull on his hair harder and spread your legs for him farther. A needy whine pulled from his throat before he bit the flesh of your inner thigh and began sucking a dark bruise there. His large hands had already moved to grab at your ass under your skirt to pull you closer to the edge of his desk.

Now that your body was well within his reach, he lifted his head from your lap and brought his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely. Your teeth nipping at his lips and your tongues chasing one another without shame. The glowing embers of need blossoming into a full-fledged flame.

"Arthur, are you sure about this. After everything that happened earlier. Are you sure you want this?"

You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. Opening your eyes to stare into his icy blue ones.

"I'm sure, love. Even more now. It seems you and I are already cursed for something we weren't doing. Might as well get some fun out of it, and I'd gladly damn myself for you."

He moved to kiss you again, but you pulled back again. Wanting to make sure this wasn't just a fleeting desire and that you would be canned by the next morning. A secretary was much easier to get rid of than a wife.

"What about Linda?"

The mention of her name made his nostrils flair. Clearly still upset from her tantrum earlier. He brought his hands up to cup your face so you were looking him straight in the eye.

"Fuck Linda. You're the one I want. For a long time now. I don't want to deny it anymore. Just never thought you would want a sad old bastard like me."

You sighed and nodded. Giving him your permission to let his lips meet yours again. The soft tickle of his mustache making you smile as you kissed. Your arms slowly moving to loop around his neck and your legs moving to loop around his hips. Pulling his body into yours.

"Wanted you just as much. You may not see it, but you are incredible. Now, fuck me please, Arthur"

Arthur was all long limbs and taut muscles. A sharp contrast to your soft curves. Little did you know that was one of his favorite things about you. That you had so many curves and soft spots for him to touch, kiss, and explore. His hands were already moving up and down your sides, groping your ass and then your breasts as you kissed.

You set to work on the first few buttons of his shirt. Reaching inside to feel his chest. Pulling your lips away from his to place a soft kiss on the cross tattoo over his heart.

Arthur quickly followed suit. Leaving wet kisses down your neck before starting to pull at your blouse. His large, rough hands threatened to tear the fabric right off your body. It was like he couldn't possibly wait any longer to touch your bare skin.

"Careful Arthur. I still have to have clothes to walk home in, and I've already lost a good pair of stockings today."

Your teasing tone told him you weren't upset at his overzealousness. He chuckled in your ear and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. You could feel his hips starting to rut into you. His excitement now becoming apparent in more ways than one.

"Sorry, lovey. I've just wanted to touch you like this for so long. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pull you into me lap every time you come in here. You're re always so fuckin' sweet and nice to me even when I feel like shit."

He pulled back and started unbuttoning your top with a much more careful touch. Leaning in to kiss your lips with each button he undid. Gazing down as your bra came into view. It clearly matched the panties you were wearing. It was the same mauve silk but with a lace edging along the tops of the cups.

Arthur groaned as he drug the back of his fingers along the lace. Your breath catching in your chest and making your breasts bounce slightly. With Arthur distracted by the sight of your lingerie, you took over the task of undressing. Shrugging your open blouse back off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. Letting him bring both of his hands up to play with your tits while you moved back to finish unbuttoning his shirt and removing it.

His fingers moved to pinch at your nipples through the soft fabric as you began undoing his pants. A soft moan falling from your lips at his touches. You slipped your hand into his pants and palmed his hardening cock through his boxers. Starting to slowly stroke his length.

"Fuck, love. You keep that up I'm gonna cum in your hand."

You smiled against his lips. Your wicked side was beginning to show more as your encounter went on. You reached behind your back with one hand and unhooked your bra. Only pulling your hand from Arthur's pants to finish removing your bra so you could toss it to the side into the growing pile of discarded clothing.

"Well, we don't want that. Better hurry up and finish undressing me then."

You hopped off the desk and brought Arthur's hands to the hook and zipper of your skirt. Bringing your lips to his throat and starting to suck and bite at his neck. Half tempted to leave your mark there for Linda to see. So she could see what she had driven the two of you to do.

You restrained yourself, though, at least for now. Knowing that both you and Arthur would want this to be more than a one-time thing. There would be a time down the road for you to flaunt your dalliances.

Your skirt soon hit the floor, and you pushed his pants down to match. Leaving you in just your pretty mauve panties and him in his simple white boxers. Your hands exploring each other's bare skin as you kissed. His hands slipping into the back of your panties to grope your ass. Slipping them down enough for them to fall to the floor on their own. Kicking your feet to rid yourself of them completely.

He lifted you back up onto the desk now that you were totally naked. Bringing one hand around between your legs as you settled. Letting his long fingers finally touch your cunt, feeling how wet you had gotten for him already. Nuzzling into your neck, his mustache tickling you as he whispered in your ear.

"Holy fuck. You're so wet darling. You are an eager little thing ain't ya? All of this really for me?"

You mewled at his questions. Knowing that he already knew the answers. Letting your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to urge him on. Sighing in relief when you felt two of his fingers sink into your heat. The little bit of stretch making your back arch and your nails grip into his biceps.

Arthur pulled away to watch his fingers thrust in and out of you. Growling at the sight of your slick coating his fingers. It was something he thought he would only ever fantasize about. Occasionally stroking your clit with his thumb and making your hips jerk forward.

A smile on his face as he watched your eyes start to roll back in your head. Pulling his fingers away when he felt you starting to clench around them. Denying you your orgasm and making you pout. Your bottom lip pushed out and looking oh so biteable.

"Arthur, please. I was so close."

He chuckled as he licked your sweet nectar from his fingers. Just one taste, and he knew he was already addicted to you. Frankly he couldn't wait until he would get a chance to eat you out, but right now he needed to fuck you.

"Uh uh love, the only time you are gonna cum tonight is on my cock."

With that, he pushed his boxers down. Finally freeing himself and giving you your first real glimpse of his cock. Standing proud and hard, just for you. His dark pink tip wet with precum. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight of him. Your legs immediately reaching to wrap around his hips and pull him to you.

He happily let you. Loving how much you wanted him. How impatient you were to have him inside you. You were almost more impatient than he was. Your hips were bucking as soon as you felt his long length stroke through your wet folds.

"Don't worry, love. I'm gonna give you exactly what you want. Just want to hear you ask for it. All sweet like you are when you ask me for stuff during work. Like the good little angel you are."

You purred at his statement. You could be his little angel if that's what he wanted, but you also wanted Arthur to see your devilish side, too. So, with one hand, you braced yourself on his desk and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Giving him your best doe eyes and letting your hips wantonly grind against his shaft. Hitching your legs up even higher to spread yourself open more for him.

"Please Arthur, I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so bad. I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you for so long. Please fuck me. Make me yours Arthur."

He growled and quickly positioned his fat tip against your weeping hole. Cursing at how wet you were. He had never felt Linda anywhere near as turned on as you were, and even though he knew that what you were about to do was wrong, it felt oh so right. So, without even thinking, he pulled off his wedding band and threw it somewhere in the distance. Not caring about having to find it later.

He grabbed a hold of your hips and kissed you fiercely. His short nails leaving imprints in your skin. He slowly started pushing into you. Your moans quieted by his kisses as he stretched you open. Eventually, bottoming out and leaving you feeling impossibly full.

Arthur waited a moment, trying to calm his breathing and letting you adjust to him. He could hardly control himself when he looked down between you and saw his cock nestled in your cunt. Your pussy lips hugging him tightly. He couldn't help but start shallowly thrusting in and out of you. His hair falling in front of his face and his nostrils flaring. His animalistic side clawing beneath the surface.

"Go on, Arthur. Fuck me hard. I know you want to."

Now that he had your permission, he did exactly that. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His thrust was so hard your hips lifted off the desk. He waited a few seconds to see if you would object to his hard thrusts, and when all you did was grip onto his neck tighter, he began pounding into you faster. The desk was starting to rock underneath you and scrape across the floor. His lamp falling and the ledger books dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.

Neither of you cared, though. Your moans and grunts growing louder with each passing moment. Arthur biting into your shoulder and neck as he fucked you with abandon. Surely leaving marks that you would have to deal with tomorrow. The force of his cock knocking your breath from you.

Arthur moved one hand behind your back to hang onto you as he brought the other to your clit. Starting to stroke his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves and immediately making you clench around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular.

"I'm gonna cum inside this perfect little cunt. You want that, eh? Just felt you squeeze me tighter darlin. I think you're gonna cum too. Cum on my cock and I'll fill you up so good. That's it, love. Cum on your boss's cock."

His words pushed you over the edge. Crying out Arthur's name as you spasmed around him. Your legs were shaking, and your body was threatening to collapse onto the desk below you. Arthur pulled you into his chest, keeping you upright as he kept frantically fucking you. Chasing his own high. Grunting and growling in your ear.

After another few thrusts, you felt his hips stutter and the warmth of his release started to fill you. The most beautiful moan fell from the normally intimidating gangster. It was full of vulnerability and made you hang onto him even tighter as he filled you up. His orgasm seemed never-ending, but frankly, both of you were quite content to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.

You held each other as you came down from your orgasms. Kissing and wiping the sweat from each other's brows. Caressing each other and letting your heart rates fall. Both of you groaning when Arthur finally pulled out of you. Taking a moment to watch his cum start to leak out of you.

With a cheeky smirk on his face, he scooped it back up and rubbed it over your swollen sex making you gasp before bringing what was left on his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his seed from his fingers. Your tongue dancing and licking up every drop. His smile growing and a soft 'good girl' quietly fell from his lips.

The two of you slowly helped each other redress. Arthur, taking an extra moment to admire the sight of you in your beautiful silk underwear before helping you with your skirt and blouse. You couldn't help but smile as you redid his bowtie for him. His fingers drawing little shapes on your lower back as you did. Brushing his hair back into place and smoothing down his mustache before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Neither of you quite ready to leave the imaginary world you created together.

He let go of you and went out to your desk. Watching him gather your jacket and handbag as you slipped your shoes back on. Coming back and placing your handbag on his desk while he worked to straighten out your coat.

"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you home, eh? I'm not letting you walk home alone at this time of night with those gorgeous legs bare and on display."

You slipped your garters into your handbag. Having no use for them now that your stockings were in Arthur's trash bin. Letting him slip your coat on before taking his own long dark coat that was far too large for you and slipping it over your shoulders. You buried your nose in the collar. Inhaling the scent of Arthur's cologne.

You looked out at the mess still sitting on the floor around your desk. Sighing at the work that still needed to be done.

"What about that mess, Arthur? I still need to clean all of that up."

He took your hand in his and started leading you to the door. Not really caring if anyone saw him holding your hand. After tonight he really couldn't give a fuck who saw you together. Come the light of day he knew he would probably feel guilty and tomorrow he would probably find himself crawling around the floor of his office to find his wedding ring. It wouldn't stop him from coming back to you again and again, and he knew both of you knew it. Tonight though he just wanted to indulge in you without the guilt.

"Fuck it. I'll make Finn and Isiah do it in the morning. You've got more important work now. Besides I'm thinking you'll be a bit tired tomorrow by the time you come in."

--------------------------------

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jomarch-wannabe · 19 days

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I’ll take care of you

Arthur Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none, all fluff :)

Synopsis: Arthur’s wife can always count on him to help her relax

Written for @runnning-outof-time’s “Caught in 4k” celebration!!! Congrats again K!! I’m so proud of you, you deserve all the love not only for your amazing work but for being so supportive and a great friend to the tumblr and peaky community. I came up with this fluffy blurb to contribute (sorry it literally took soo long the writer’s block got me bad) I hope you enjoy it!

The sound of your footing was barely heard against the plush carpet as you entered into the living room. Arthur’s form was lit up in orange from the open flames, relaxing on the lounge with a glass of whiskey in his outstretched arm. His tired eyes blinked softly in the light, relaxing after a long day.

As you rounded the couch, his posture straightened slightly, acknowledging you. A thin-lipped grin graced over his face, but you struggled to return his greeting, letting out a shaky breath and sinking into the cushions beside him.

A warm weight spread over your skin as his hand came suddenly over your shoulder, pulling you close to him. His brows knit together, carefully observing the distressed expression on your face.

His blue eyes softened in concern, leaning forward and sitting his glass on the end table. “What’s the matter angel?” He asked in a low whisper, thumbing your exposed skin.

A dull pressure throbbed against your head making your wince softly. “I just have a headache..” The confession escaped you with a shaky exhale. Your little fingers trembled as they tugged at your brows, attempting to soothe the ache.

As pang of sympathy stirred inside him as he took in your words, he hated to see you in pain. “We can’t have that can we? Come e’re love..”

You were hesitant at first, not wanting to be a nuisance. He knew you were stubborn, so he put his hand on your shoulder, encouraging you to lean into him.

“Come ‘ere..” he chuckled lightly at your resistance, “I’ll take care of you sweetheart.”

The weight of his hands guided you gently on your back, laying in between his legs. You gave in, letting your shoulders drop, finding relief in his arms. With careful hands, he rested them over your forehead, warming the aching skin with his soothing touch. His firm fingers gently massaged your scalp and temples in soft strokes, slowly easing the tension in your head.

A soft sigh escaped you, letting your eyes fall closed.

“Feeling better angel?”

“Mhmm..” you hummed, relaxing your back against his chest as his fingers massaged the pain away.

He continued this for some time, entranced by your fluttering eyelashes as he took care of you. He loved moments like these. Using his hands to help instead of using them for harm.

“Thank you Arthur..” you murmured sleepily, feeling the affects of his hypnotic touch. The fabric of your nightgown shuffled as you rolled to your stomach, wrapping your arms around his torso.

The comforting weight of his arms cradled you securely to his chest, stroking your soft hair as he smiled warmly, holding you close.

A soft sigh came from you, nudging your head against him. The rhythmic melody of his heartbeat washed your worries away.

“You alright now sweetheart?” His gentle tone whispered, vibrating against your ear as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Mhmm.. thank you Arthur.. I love you..”

“Love you too angel..”

#Arthur Shelby #Paul Anderson #peaky blinders #Arthur shelby fluff #Arthur shelby x reader #Arthur shelby x y/n #comfort fic #arthur shelby fanfiction #Arthur shelby fanfic

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call-sign-shark · 8 months

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Perfect Lines || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: There are no secrets between Arthur Shelby and his wife. Except what he hides in his sketchbook now that he has started drawing again. One question remains: what is he drawing?

Words: 2.3k

TW: One quick allusion to smut but otherwise it's tooth-rotting fluff.

Notes: This work is a part of Heaven in Your Eyes' universe (an Arthur Shelby x you story), but you can obviously read it as a stand-alone.

✞ Written for @runnning-outof-time 's 3.5k celebration with the following prompts: "You are not listening to me" // "You're beautiful like that"

Of everything you shared together, Arthur’s sketchbook was something he never showed you despite being married and indescribably enamored with you. Each time you tried to look over his shoulder in a desperate attempt to see what he was drawing, Arthur closed the sketchbook and usually called you a "nosey little angel" when it happened.

A faint “Bloody Hell” fell from his thin lips, as soft as a whisper lost in the summer wind, when the lead of his pencil broke amidst a tedious shading work. Arthur blew on the sheet of paper to clear it from the lead crumbles, before stretching one of his long arms to hold the sketchbook in front of his face and get a better view of the overall result. His piercing blue eyes wandered on each line he had drawn, analyzing them with a little frown that made his eyes squint and crowfeet appear. Carefully, he tilted the sketchbook on one side first, then on the other, in a serious attempt to understand what didn’t work, “Nah, that ain’t good enough” He grunted, chewing his pencil nervously before closing the sketchbook and getting up from the sofa to drag his lanky frame outside. Shortly after getting released from prison, Arthur and you decided to move to the forest side and live in the magnificent house you spotted one day when you were taking a walk in nature. Even if he had grown accustomed to Small Heath and its pungent smell, he knew that it wasn’t the case for you. There was something utterly melancholic in the way you looked at the vast and green lands of Arrow House, or the way your thin fingers gently stroked the silhouette of the mountains depicted in Polly’s latest favorite painting. Each of these small details convinced Arthur to buy this house, that stood proudly at the woods’ fringe and nearby an enchanting stream, because what could be more important than your happiness? Nothing.

Keeping his sketchbook under one arm, Arthur walked through the forest for a very short while with the peaceful rustle of the wind shaking the trees’ thick foliage as his sole companion. As he walked, the corner of his lips curled into a small satisfied grin: never in his life he would have thought he would feel that peaceful. In fact, Arthur Shelby had everything he always dreamed of: a beautiful house lost in nature to call his home and the most magnificent angel by his side to call his wife. The world could fall apart he wouldn’t mind as long as you were here, with him. To hell with the gangster’s life and with the family business, he thought. To hell with the paradise Linda had promised him: Why would he want to go to heaven when he could just fall asleep with you all snuggled up in his loving arms? Heaven was you, not someplace up in the skies. With his free hand, Arthur moved a few branches from the way and finally arrived in an enchanting glade in the midst of which a small lake was embellishing the landscape. A little less than one hour ago, you told him you wanted to take a swim there to refresh yourself after one whole morning of gardening, but Arthur grew impatient with waiting: he already missed you with all his soul. In truth, not having you next to him could soon turn into torture — so was the fierce and dependent nature of his love for you. A love deemed obsessive and unhealthy by some others, but which definitely suited both of you. Once he reached the lake, Arthur sat on a flat stone at its very edge, his steel-blue iris scanning the area until they fell on your dainty frame. But as soon as he saw you, his eyes widened, taken aback by the most wonderful sight he had ever seen.

You were standing near the other side of the pond, bathed in the soft light of the sun. A hundred small water droplets were covering your smooth skin, like a veil made of precious diamond beads. One of them, maybe a little too heavy, was slowly running down between your small breasts, whose perky nipples had hardened due to the cold breeze caressing them. The drop ended its way in the water, which was engulfing you from your waist down, after letting a thin glistening trail along your petite body. Unaware of your husband’s presence, you sung a joyful nursery rhyme about a wolf in the forest all the while braiding your long white hair in one single braid. Arthur’s chest tightened with an almost excruciating surge of desire at such a blessed view. At first, he wanted to call you but no sound came out of his mouth. Despite two years of being together, you still managed to make him feel like a flustered schoolboy. Rather than disrupting your peaceful moment, Arthur quickly opened the sketchbook he was carrying with him, took the pencil out of it, and started to draw again. Guided by a sudden burst of creativity, he let the pencil’s lead wander from here and there on the paper, taking quick but numerous glances at you as he did. It had been months since he had started trying to translate your divine pulchritude on paper but each attempt had been a miserable failure. The result never satisfied him enough to show it to you. Fortunately today, surrounded by nature and stealing one lonely and intimate moment, this drawing would be the good one.

Vaguely unsettled by the feeling of being watched, you stopped singing and turned around to sweep your surroundings with your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to notice your husband, sitting near the shore with his sleeves rolled up, a couple of his shirt’s buttons undone to make it looser, and his suspenders hanging from his waist. You tilted your head to the side at how focused he seemed to be, not raising his eyes from his sketchbook anymore. A faint and enamored smile curled the corners of your plump lips at the adorable facial expression that was adorning him. Alongside the awe Arthur’s beauty stirred in you, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was drawing. In fact, while there was no secret between you, he always refused to show you his art. Even the smallest sneak peek was prohibited for some undisclosed reasons — and even untold, you knew that these reasons revolved around his insecurities. Without wasting more time, you took a dive in the cold water and swam to the opposite shore. Once you reached it, you carefully resurfaced until the water reached your nose bridge, and grabbed his ankle with your cold and wet fingers.

“FOOKIN’ HELL!” Arthur cried, his gruff voice so loud that a whole family of birds swarmed from one tree and flew away in terror. Then, he looked at you and grunted, slowly resting one of his hands on his chest where he could feel his heart racing, “Ah. Very funny, love,” He said when he saw you chuckling, “I almost got a heart attack, eh.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you were that easy to kill, Arthur Shelby.” You retorted with a bratty pout, before hauling yourself thanks to a rock until the water reached your hips. Once you did that, you simply crossed your arms on the flat surface of the rock and rested your chin on your folded arms, looking at the tall gangster with a little smirk flattering your full lips.

“I ain’t easy to kill, love. In fact, I was more scared for me drawing than for myself. But,” He left his sentence hanging, looking carefully at his work to make sure water hadn’t splashed on it and erased some parts, “Everything’s fine.” Arthur closed the sketchbook and put it next to him — the temptation to grab it and look at its content was strong, but you managed to resist out of respect for your man’s privacy, even if you’ve been wanting to know what he was drawing for months. After all, he told you he used to be quite good at art so it made you even more curious. Arthur quickly took off his shoes, and moved his body until he sat at the very edge of the lake with his feet in the cold water “It’s fookin’ freezing. How can ye swim in this, angel? Ye gonna catch som’thin.”

“Come on Arthur, it ain’t even that cold.” You laughed, extending one of your arms to softly stroke his thigh. The sensation of your icy fingers sent goosebumps all over his skin despite the thin fabric of his trousers keeping you from having a direct contact with his flesh. Arthur’s gaze fell upon you again, and he drowned in your holy features. “I was wondering… “ You started, biting the juicy flesh of your lower lip as you searched for the right words, “like, I know you’re kinda reluctant when it comes to showing me your art but I really want to see what you’re drawing.” Your fingers traced circles on his thigh — He shivered with desire, “Now, I’m not really good at drawing so there’s no reason for you to be scared of judgment or anything. It’s just that… I’m curious. Yeah that’s it. I wonder what inspires you and what kind of muses you have. I’d really love to know more about your artistic side. What do you think?” You raised your gaze towards Arthur but he didn’t answer. In truth, the gangster was busy observing you with great attention, obliterating everything else. Even your lovely voice.

Your wet hair slicked back.

Your big eyes shining with a child-like gleam.

Your juicy lips, as sweet as fruits ready to be ripped…

Arthur’s artistic senses definitely loved what they saw: not his wife whom he loved to death, but a mischievous and sumptuous nymph. You came from the wild, and it was something no one could tear away from you. Ancient streams were coursing through your veins, pulsing at the rhythm of the mountains’ mystic drums that were making your heartbeat. Moreover, he was sure that your hair was made of the highest peaks’ permanent snow and your skin with the purest frost. The corner of Arthur’s lips twitched, making his mustache briefly move: he was physically and emotionally overwhelmed by your charm. To the extent he had to look away from your eyes, in which he could find fragments from the sky.

“Arthur?” You called him.

“You look beautiful like that.” He stated, the gravel of his voice highlighted by a surprising peaceful tone. His fingers gently reached for yours — that were still resting on his thigh. Blood rushed to your cheeks at the sudden and unexpected compliment. It was not something unusual though. Quite the contrary, Arthur was everything but cheap when it came to praising you, but his spontaneity and the genuine fascination in his eyes made you swoon, “You were not listening to me, right?” You replied, bating your Bambi lashes.

“I wasn’t listenin’, angel.” He admitted, his lips stretching into a soft smile. You could not help but reply to his honesty with a chuckle before slightly splashing him with water to avenge you, “Hey!“ he exclaimed.

“Now you gonna come swim with me if you want to be forgiven for this terrible insult! Not listening to me! I can’t believe it.” You exclaimed, pretending to be outraged.

“Nah, got me clothes on, love.” He straight off replied, trying to find an excuse to avoid the freezing water — only his ankles were soaked and he was already shivering.

“You see the thing with clothes…” You started, getting out of the water all naked, and forcing Arthur — whose jaw could have dropped at the sight of your naked body — to stand up too, “the thing with clothes, Arthur Shelby…” You let your words hanging only to raise yourself on your tiptoes and graze his earlobe with your lips, “is that you can take them off." You punctuated your sentence by unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it on the ground, thus revealing his toned chest sprinkled with hundreds of constellations made of freckles, "Right now."

“Alright, alright…” He grunted, unable to resist your adorable pout — and let’s be honest, the way your palms wandered on him, stripping him from his clothes and grazing his length, had been enough to motivate him. Arthur’s strong hand grabbed you by the back of your neck, the cold metal of his rings sending a shiver of excitement down your spine, and he gently forced you to kiss him. The press of his mouth, eager and hungry, was deepened by his tongue slipping between your lips and dancing with yours, “I’ll swim with ya but..” Another wet stroke — you moaned in his mouth as his body crashed against yours, not minding its wet and cold sensations, “You’d better find a way to warm me up, hmm.”

“Not before you tell me what you’re drawing.” You retorted, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck to lay myriad of kisses here. Arthur slightly threw his head back to give you better access to his throat and groaned.

“You. I’m drawing you. Always.” He finally confessed.

"What? Are-- Are you serious? Me? Why?" You suddenly said, pulling your face away from his neck to look at him with your eyes wide open and an endearing surprised expression on your juvenile face.

"Because you've got perfect lines." He whispered, his fingers lingering over you. In truth, you had been the reason behind him picking up his old passion after years of using his hands for nothing else but to destroy. So, for this life and all the others to come, his muse was and would always be you.

"Yeah, some fookin' perfect lines."

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

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

#Peaky blinders imagine #Arthur shelby x reader #Arthur shelby #Arthur shelby x you #Peaky blinders x reader #Arthur shelby x oc #Arthur shelby x ofc #peaky blinders #Peaky blinder fanfic #Heaven Shelby #Arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x oc #Paul Anderson #arthur shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #Peaky blinders x you #Arthur Shelby Fluff #arthur shelby fanfiction

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geekwritersworld · 2 years

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600 FOLLOWERS!!🥳

I cannot even 😭6 FRICKING HUNDRED!! I'm beyond grateful to every single person that reads the shit I write.

I started writing fics back in February 2021 and it was only meant to be temporary, yet here I am a year later with so many people that have read, reblogged and liked my work, I'm honestly not sure why, but I'm so thankful for it regardless!!

Thank you @theshelbyclan for your continuous support on my blog/Fics from the very beginning. You're an absolute gem! 💛 Theres so many people that have constantly reblogged my fics and to all of them- thank you!!💛

An accurate visual representation of my face right now 🤣❤️

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warnersister · 1 month

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Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎞️“Nice.”

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