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queenshelby · 1 year

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BUSINESS AS USUAL (PART ONE)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Smut, Cheating,

Words: 1,000 (as will be most parts in this series)

You watched through the crack of the door which, clearly, she had left open on purpose as this was nothing but a game to her. She wanted you to see her, making love to your husband this way and you were curious to see whether it was true.

Was he really sleeping with her? A woman lacking both class and morals. A woman so vile that your stomach turned from the inside out.

You were disgusted and, remembering his lips on yours made you want to vomit.

“Gosh, Tommy. Seriously? Her? Why” was what you wondered as you stood there, silently, watching as he leaned forward and then, slowly, their lips met, gently, softly at first and then with more passion.

Tommy’s left hand moved up to fondle her breasts and she moaned softly into his mouth.

Eventually though, they parted and Laura looked into his eyes.

“I need you to fuck me, right here” she told him as his hand moved up from her breasts and started to unbutton her shirt.

“This is my wife’s office Love” Tommy told her reluctantly as she put her hand on his.

“Yes, I know. It turns me on. She has nice taste for interior design and I want you to fuck me on her immaculate cedar desk” she said. Her voice was forceful and she walked imperiously to your desk and, provokably, sat on the edge of it.

Your heart immediately sank, thinking that, surely, he would not be fucking her inside your very own office. This was your private space and you felt as though they had no right to utilise it in such a derogatory manner.

But, clearly you were wrong as, within seconds, you watched as your husband placed his hands on her thighs.

“As you wish Love” he told her and she slowly moved her hands up and began unbuttoning her shirt. The material drifted apart revealing her lacy bra and you gasped as your husband watched her in complete rapture. She stood up and undid her skirt which slipped to the floor. Then, she sat on the edge of the desk again and grabbed hold of Tommy’s tie before pulling him up.

"We don't have long” she said before pulling him closer and they kissed while her hands started to work at your husband’s belt and then, before too long, she was caressing his erection through his briefs.

Within seconds, he tore himself away from her kiss and pulled his underwear down all the while she lifted herself off the desk and slipped her panties down and off.

It was revolting and you knew what was going to happen next, right there, on your desk.

“Spread your legs for me Love. Nice and wide” Tommy told her before kissing her again and then you could see his cock, pressing into her crotch and you heard her sigh gently.

He then kissed her again and she leaned back and opened her legs wider. Her hand then grasped your husband’s cock and guided it towards her opening. He pushed forward and slipped inside her and, by this point, you felt ill, well and truly.

You then heard Tommy groan loudly while small whimpers escaped Laura’s lips and her eyes started to close. The sound of their fucking combined with the soft gasps and whimpers were making you feel all sorts of things. There was hate, regret, disgust and even jealousy. It was revolting and, yet, you couldn’t look away, watching your husband make love to another woman.

Eventually, Laura’s breathing became faster and her eyes opened wide. You knew she was close and, apparently, so did your husband as you watched thrust a bit faster now.

You were listening to the moans, groans and the squelching noises which, clearly, were a testament to her arousal.

“Oh god, Tommy, I am so close” she moaned as, clearly, her pussy clamped down onto his cock and as her orgasm washed through her and, just as she came, so did he.

He flooded her pussy with his seed and this was when you had enough. You could not take it anymore and looked away before, eventually, tippy toeing to your chambers.

You were crying some silent tears, feeling failure and regret over marrying this man and, whilst you knew that your husband had been visiting the whore house every week, this was so much worse. Laura Garett, out of all fucking people.

You hated her. She was vile and, yet, your very own husband was sleeping with her and you certainly did not know why. Was it boredom? Did he love her? Why did he sleep with her?

In the end, you tried to drown your sorrows with some whiskey that night and then went to bed only to be woken up again, during the night, by your crying step-son, Charlie.

He was missing his mother again and, just as the night before, you took him into your own bed and read him a story. He was still young and needed someone in his life. Someone other than his father who, clearly, had no idea about his son’s very own fears and nightmares.

But you, you did. You had lived at Arrow House for three months and had become accustomed to your role there. Charlie liked you and, luckily for him, you liked him too.

And yet, none of this was enough for you. You wanted, no you needed, to be loved but love was not a feeling your husband was capable of so you knew that, perhaps, you had to find it somewhere else.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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pherelesytsia · 1 year

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Lurking in the Shadows

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/pregnant/Reader

Summary: As Halloween draws near, Charlie's mother worries that even Thomas will fear the costume of his son.

Warning: fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n:. Requests are open!!!

The costume, wicked and haunting, forcing to cross the street if gazes met, suited Charlie well. The eyes of a wolf, a hawk circling over fields and cities in search of prey, a lost bunny searching for the hole in the muddy ground pierced the darkness looming beyond the windows.

The grin on Y/N´s lips grew, did not fade away, and not even bloodcurdling news could wipe it away. Gently, her fingers glided over the costume. Nervously, Charlie bit down on his lower lip, crouched and gazed from his mother to the closed door, listening to the voices mingling freely, but he did not understand any of the words echoing throughout the mansion. Y/N kneeled in front of her son. Mumbling, her fingers adjusted the shoes, perfecting the costume.

"Do you think the others will like my costume? I've seen Karl. He is a ghost. I don't fear ghosts.", "Charlie, you were a ghost last year. We need to get more creative and I have to admit that if I didn't know you, I would hide in fear for my safety. You have the scariest costume I have ever seen in my life." Y/N spoke, fixing his tousled hair, hearing the secret message, the fear lingering in his shaking voice.

The light flickered.

"Are you going to put on a costume, too? You would be a beautiful princess.", "Thank you, Charlie, but I will stay at home. I will accompany you downstairs and then Arthur, Polly and if I am not mistaken, John will wander from house to house with you and the other children. And I will wait for your return and then you can tell me what creepy creatures you have seen lurking around the streets." Y/N continued.

Gazes met.

"And what about father? Won't he come with us? He told me he would think about it." Charlie inquired.

The smile faded away. Y/N exhaled and looked apologetically at her son, whose costume she had perfected to the smallest detail. She caressed his cheek, removed the thread from his shoulder and smiled, wordlessly answering the question he had asked.

"Father promised me," Charlie argued.

"My sweet little boy, your father fears for my safety and he promised he would wait with me. You can tell us everything then, and we will listen." Y/N breathed and calmed the boy with a mere gesture.

"I understand, mom. I hoped. Dad promised me he would come with us, with me." Charlie spoke, tried to stay strong, but his voice betrayed him.

Blaming the hormones, Y/N blinked away the tears and smoothed his hair.

"Please don't be sad. Do not be mad at your father, he wants to protect me and fears I might feel unwell or end up sickly in bed, or faint if nobody is here. Imagine one day, in a few years, you get to accompany your sibling on this spooky day and protect them from ghosts and knights, but enough of that, we should go downstairs. The others are waiting." Y/N said. The smile on his lips dispelled the tears.

"Next year?", "No, my little boy, but in three or four years." she laughed and squeezed his right hand.

Groaning, Y/N rose from the floor. Hands enveloped hers, helped her, came to her aid. Charlie smiled, clasped her hand graced by a golden ring, and guided her towards the door. His eyes kept sliding back to his mother, watching her every move. The fear disappeared, faded into oblivion and Charlie opened the door, bowed elegantly, a high-born soldier, and followed the endless corridor. The gramophone played a song. With every step they took towards the stairs, the voices grew louder. Peals of laughter mingled with deep voices.

Stairs creaked, and pairs of eyes fell on the couple. Grins grew wider. The voices grew softer. The suit, dark as midnight, fitted him well. His shoes were polished. The hair lay to one side. His face was cold, blank and expressionless, a statue, staring down at the men and women. Eyes, twinkling and gleaming, looked at the boy who had taken his father's place. A pitch-black waistcoat hid the white shirt. Out of the small pocket, Charlie retrieved a silver pocket watch, opened it with a push of a button, and shook his head. A sound escaped his lips.

The siblings had to stifle a laugh, remembering what Y/N had said, her words about finding the most terrifying costume with Charlie, that people would freeze in fear and even the strongest of men, boxers facing the enemy in the ring with risen fists would tremble, and the prophecy was true. But no fear was boiling in the stomach. Curious eyes settled on Thomas staring at his double walking with his wife towards the group.

Charlie's face was strangely stiff, overshadowed by greyness.

"It's late. We're heading out. We don't have fucking time to waste. And no fucking fighting." spoke the faint yet firm voice.

Y/N hunched forward, trying to walk beside Charlie and not to laugh, amused by the sight of her baffled husband.

"Was that good? And you didn't give me any cigarettes.", "Perfect, but you don't have to swear like your father and I certainly won't give you any cigarettes.", Y/N whispered, fighting tears.

"Of course, brother. You had a drink, right? I'd better drive, kids ride with us after all. Your wife looks particularly beautiful these days. The pregnancy suits her well and I am convinced it will be a girl." Arthur spoke in a firm voice, trying to sound as stern as possible.

With his right hand, he gestured the children to follow him.

"What should I say?" asked a weak voice.

"Nothing. Your father is not a man of many words. Nod and go, as we discussed." Y/N replied.

She eased away from the young one, nudging him forward and the boy understood and strolled with larger strides towards his father.

"Good evening, Mister Shelby," he spoke.

Thomas shook his head, stared down at the carbon copy. Nothing escaped his gaze, found a difference, the golden ring, the sign of eternal loyalty and love was missing.

"Good evening, Mr Shelby. I have heard a lot about you and we should form an alliance. I have contacts that might be useful to you. And I must say your wife is a breath-taking woman.", "Of course, Mister Shelby, but I must go now, my colleagues, my brothers are waiting. I look forward to hearing from you." Charlie spoke sternly, cold as possible.

"Goodbye, Mr Shelby. During your absence, I will keep your wife company." Thomas replied.

He said goodbye to his son, following the others out of the mansion. Shaking his head, Thomas looked after Charlie. His eyes sparkled, not understanding what had happened. The stiff wind did not howl through the corridors of the house. Footsteps echoed again and with slow steps Y/N walked towards her grinning husband, listening to raucous laughter piercing the calmness of the night. Hands settled on his body, brushed the weight off his shoulders with an affectionate gesture, and lowered her head onto his back. Bright lights illuminated the nightfall and the blueish automobile drove off and faded beyond hills and rising mist.

"That was the surprise you couldn't tell me, the secret between you and Charlie?" Thomas inquired, turning away from the window.

Silence returned. In reassuring gestures, Y/N stroked the bulge, no fabric nor coat could hide and nodded.

"Exactly. Charlie wanted an unusual costume. Every kid dresses up as a ghost or a knight. Girls are witches and princesses and, according to some people, there's nothing creepier, scarier than Thomas Shelby. Do you like it? I had to cut his hair today, too." Y/N chuckled.

Lowering his hands on her waist, Thomas turned his wife in his arms and lowered his head onto hers.

"It's the worst, goosebump-inducing costume I've seen in my life and the sight of the man will haunt me in my worst dreams. I need a psychologist," he joked. "And soon I will see him again. He wants to meet me, talk about business. I am dreading the encounter." Thomas continued.

Y/N looked up. The light was touching his face. The eyes sparkled. Gently, his fingers slid down her lower back. He wanted to be closer to the love of his life, but the belly made it difficult. His lips were clamped shut. The corners had turned white. Grinning, he gazed upon his wife, couldn't hold the walls of protection up. Stone crumbled. Thomas laughed, chuckled in delight, couldn't comprehend it, laughed and grinned and Y/N was persuaded she had never heard these delicate sounds, this melody touching her heart, in her life.

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

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Monsters under the Bed

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

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

Words: 2056

*****

You were far too old to be scared of monsters.

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

“Nothing,” you grumbled in reply.

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

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

“What?”

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

“John!” Ada called out, reprimanding him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” a startlingly low reply came.

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

“Sorry...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t there?” you sniffled.

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

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

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

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

“Some days, I’m not too sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

“See? Nothing to be scared of.”

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

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

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

“Yes. We’ll protect each other.”

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

*****

Masterlist

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

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onyondump · 6 months

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Tommy is a sopping wet cat

Arthur is the deranged orange cat

and John is the stray cat that keeps on impregnating house cats and is protective of them

No, I will not be taking any revision

I illustrated it!

#peaky blinder #arthur shelby #tommy shelby #john shelby #peaky blinders

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call-sign-shark · 16 days

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Random Arthur x Heaven fact:

As destructive and brutal as she is, Heaven pathetically and randomly faints because her stupid ass forgets to eat. Due to this, Arthur's reflexes have become even sharper than they already were: he spots the precise moment she's about to fall and immediately catches her, even if he's in the middle of a conversation or something else.

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur SHelby x Reader #Peaky Blinder #Arthur Shelby x you #Heaven Shelby #HYE Squad #Peaky Blinders imagines #She prolly has a eating disorder tho

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thepeakygirl · 10 months

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I miss this show 😩 also new picture of my two favourite people

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky fookin blinders #the peaky blinders #peaky blinder #bbc peaky blinders #lizzie shelby #lizzie stark #tommy x lizzie #thomas x lizzie #peaky blinders s6

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mlmxreader · 8 months

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One Look | Alfie Solomons x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Alfie Solomons: Hello! You doing good? I hope so 🖤. May I please humbly request of you something using the following prompts for Alfie Solomons X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Don't roll your eyes at me"+"Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon"+"I thought we were... forget it" Thank you so very much 🖤🖤! 🐍anon

summary: Alfie doesn't take too kindly to someone else eyeing up what's his.

tws: swearing, threats and threats of murder, jealousy and possessiveness

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Luca shifted in his seat, swallowing thickly as he looked at you; you had dropped your pen, and when you had bent down to retrieve it, he had gotten the perfect view of your backside.

But he knew that you were off limits, he knew that he couldn't lay a hand on you or else Alfie would have his guts for garters; he could only look, feeling like his hands were chained to the arms of the chair as he clenched his jaw and took in a harsh breath. The way Alfie had spoken about you, Luca had guessed that there was something going on; protective, possessive, harsh, jealous.

Luca knew that Alfie wouldn't hesitate, everybody did; all it took was one look at how Alfie treated you to know that there wasn't anything that that man wouldn't do for you. There were no lines in the sand for Alfie to cross, not when it came to you. But… Luca couldn't help but to look.

Your slightly unbuttoned shirt that showed off your skin, the trousers that hugged your ass so perfectly, the scattered droplets of sweat running against the back of your neck and down your head to settle on your brow.

The shape of your lips and how you smiled. The colour of your eyes and how he could have sworn that he had only seen a colour that breathtaking when he had seen artwork in a museum.

Luca swallowed thickly, knowing that you wouldn't even take another glance at him, knowing that if he so much as lifted a finger, Alfie would destroy him. Luca couldn't help but to wonder, though.

Did Alfie know what he had?

Did he appreciate the curve of your ass?

Did he appreciate the masterpiece of your eye colour?

Did he appreciate the soft glitter of sweat on your skin?

Did he appreciate your exposed skin?

Did he appreciate the shape of your lips?

Your smile?

Did he appreciate you at all?

Maybe it was stupid of him to think, you were obviously loyal to Alfie, you made that more than clear when he strolled in; immediately and excitedly going to him. Your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, leaning into him when he pulled you close.

Refusing to budge from his side, leaning into him and smiling at him. Alfie glared at Luca, who had been caught staring.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Alfie hissed. "You fuckin' makin' eyes at my partner?"

Luca shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and trying to put on a show of stoicism. "No. Of course not, Mister Solomons. You made it perfectly clear that your partner is strictly off limits."

Alfie nodded curtly, looking at you from the corner of his eye for a second. Silently asking for your opinion. You hummed, squirming in his grasp and got a little closer. "That cunt didn't lay a hand on you, did he?"

"No," you shook your head. "He wouldn't be breathing if he was."

He laughed at that, grinning at you for a moment as he nodded in approval. "Taught you well enough."

You looked smug as you followed Alfie with great loyalty, waiting for him to sit at his desk before you brought yourself down on his lap; your back against the arm of the chair, you relaxed when Alfie let his hand rest on the inside of your upper thigh, dangerously close.

Luca sighed, doing his best not to hang his head and shake it; you were so loyal, more so than the likes of Doc Holliday. You were loyal, and there was nothing that Luca could do about it - the worst part was that Alfie seemed to pick up on Luca's train of thought, as he grinned and grabbed your chin with his free hand, pulling you in for a kiss purely to show off.

"Mister Solomons, I thought we were… forget it. We'll reschedule."

Alfie cocked a brow, not even taking his eyes from you as he grumbled under his breath. "You fuckin' sit there lookin' like you fuckin' despise me bein' with my partner in my own fucking office. You sit there with a face like a slapped ass, you fuckin' think I'd let you reschedule?"

"You're clearly busy," Luca huffed.

"Nah, we ain't," Alfie chuckled. "Are we, love?"

You shook your head, refusing to break his gaze. "Course not, Alf! We ain't busy."

"That's what I thought," he confirmed with a soft kiss. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Luca roll his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, sunshine."

"Tell him, Alf," you muttered. "Go on, lay into him."

Alfie grinned, shaking his head fondly as he finally properly looked at Luca. He wasn't impressed, in all honesty. Sure, Luca was tall, and with that big overcoat and the toothpick in between his lips, he had an intimidating look to him. Not enough to make Alfie even think twice, though.

"Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon, you yank cunt," Alfie clicked his fingers, grabbing Luca's attention. "You fuckin' look at my partner again, and I'll fuckin' show you what I told Tommy Shelby for doin' the same."

Luca huffed. "Mister Solomons-"

"One more look," Alfie warned. "Even just a fuckin' glance. I will take that pretty face of yours, and I will shred it against the fuckin' bricks outside. I will fuckin' shoot you. I will kill you."

Luca was a seasoned enough gangster to know that Alfie wouldn't be joking. That he was serious. "Understood."

"My partner," Alfie barked out. "You touch even a fuckin' hair on their head - I will cut you down."

Luca took a step back. "Are we done here?"

"No," Alfie scoffed quietly. "Sit the fuck down, yank. We got business, ain't we?"

Reluctantly, Luca took a seat opposite the desk; he couldn't deny that it was hard for him to see you with Alfie. You were so fucking stunning, breathtaking - yet, you only had eyes for Alfie. Your loyalty would only ever lie with Alfie. Luca didn't have a fucking chance.

You loved Alfie.

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justabigassnerd · 2 years

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You'll be safe here

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x teen!reader

Word count - 1,354

Warnings - mentions of abuse, injuries, angst

Summary - Tommy worries about the wellbeing of his youngest employee

A/N - whatddup y'all it's your girl coming at you with a new fic! This was an interesting idea sent in by an anon and I hope to god I did it justice because I never wanna let you guys down. I don't have much to say in this A/N other than please send in requests, feed back and enjoy!

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If there was one employee Tommy Shelby knew he could rely on, it was you. You were only a teenager, but you always worked hard and got all your jobs done when they needed to be done. However, Tommy couldn’t help but feel like something was up with you. He knew you lived with your mother not too far away from Arrow House, earning money to support your mum. But he also knew that you stayed in Arrow House long after your shift ended, mingling in the kitchens, offering to do more work. You would do everything within your power to stay longer at work which confused everyone within the house as every other employee that went home for the evening would shoot out the door the second their shift ended without a second thought. Tommy and the rest of his staff also noticed how tired you looked every day, and they were all concerned, especially when someone would ask if you were alright, and you brushed them off with a ‘fine’ and a smile.

Tommy’s worry for you doubled, no, tripled when Mary came into his study one morning, informing him that you were late for work. You hadn’t called ahead to say you were running late or ill, you just hadn’t shown up early or on time like you usually did.

“Have you tried ringing her house?” Tommy asks, taking a drag from his cigarette to calm his rapid heart rate, Mary nodded her head.

“No one picked up Mr. Shelby.” She informs, wringing her hands nervously. Mary was just as worried about you as her employer was.

“Keep an eye out for her, will you? If she turns up, send her in here, okay?” Tommy asks, getting a nod of confirmation from Mary before she turns on her heels to return to her job. Tommy works hard to occupy his mind, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. You’d been working at Arrow House since Tommy purchased and moved into the property and Tommy had gained a protective feeling over you, especially when he learnt you never had a father figure.

“Mary said you wanted to see me, Mr. Shelby?” Your timid and cracking voice speaks from the doorway to his study, Tommy looks up and waves you in quickly before returning his gaze to his work.

“Take a seat y/n.” He says, flicking through papers as he talks, waiting for you to sit down.

“I’m sorry for being late Mr. Shelby. It won’t happen again I swear. I just lost track of time. I need this job, please don’t fire me.” You apologise, sitting on the small sofa and fiddling with your fingers nervously, stress tears building in your eyes at the thought of losing your job.

“I’m not going to fire you, y/n.” Tommy says, finally looking up. His eyes narrowed in concern when he noticed the bruise on your cheek. It was faint, clearly brand new, and beginning to form. Many people wouldn’t notice it, but Tommy did, with the life he lives he could notice any type of injury be it big or small. He got up and rounded his desk, stubbing out his cigarette as he goes before crossing to you. He stops when he ends up in front of you, making you look up at him worriedly.

“Who did that to you, y/n?” He asks, his voice quiet and soft, not a tone you were used to hearing come from your employer’s mouth.

“Who did what, Mr. Shelby?” You ask innocently, trying not to let your voice wobble as the tears build.

“I can see a bruise on your cheek. Who did that to you?” He presses, grabbing the chair in front of his desk and pulling it up in front of you, sitting down on it.

“No one, sir. I just had an accident.” You lie, eyes flicking around the room, looking everywhere but at Tommy.

“Uh-huh, and does that accident have a name?” Tommy continues, not believing your lie for a second.

“No. I just slipped.” You insist, clenching your hands into fists as they rest on your legs.

“You can’t bullshit me. You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t get mad.” Tommy says softly. The way he spoke to you so softly and gently made the dam break and tears dribbled down your cheeks. Tommy was shocked at how you collapsed into sobs, burying your face in your hands, your shoulders trembling. Tommy quickly moved to sit beside you on the sofa, pulling you into his arms and shushing you gently. He didn’t care that you clung to him, or you were sobbing into his new suit, he was just concerned about you and what had hurt you.

Tommy sat holding you for minutes, rocking side to side and whispering calming words into your hair as your sobs slowly turned to whimpers and your tight grip on his shirt, pulling away and wiping your eyes embarrassedly.

“Sorry, I’ll get to work now.” You apologise, going to stand up before Tommy speaks up.

“No, stay here. You need to tell me who hurt you.” Tommy says, holding you gently on the shoulders to keep you still, looking you in the eyes. You were silent for a moment, debating about whether you should be telling your boss about what was going on at home.

“It was my mum…” You say, after the moment of silence, head dropping in shame at the admission.

“Your mum?” Tommy asks, disgust and shock in his tone as your words settle in his head. When you merely nod at his words, he feels a wave of hot anger growing within him as he tugs you back against his chest, holding you close as if that would protect you from the harsh world outside Arrow House.

“I’m scared to go back home. She was so angry.” You whisper fearfully, Tommy could feel you trembling in his arms at the thought of going back home to where your mum is.

“You’re not going back there. I won’t let you.” Tommy says firmly, squeezing you tighter before letting you wiggle out of his arms.

“I have nowhere else to live, Mr. Shelby.” You say, worry gripping at your chest at Tommy’s suggestion.

“You could live here. You’ll be safe here. Your mum won’t hurt you again. I won’t let her.” Tommy says gently, rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders as you sniff heavily.

“I wouldn’t want to be a disturbance, Mr. Shelby.” You whisper, eyes fixed on your lap.

“You wouldn’t be a disturbance y/n. I’d rather you be here safe all the time rather than you having to go home to that bitch every evening.” Tommy says, the worry evident in his voice as he speaks.

“Okay, okay I’ll stay.” Tommy lets out a small sigh of relief when he sees you nod and confirm that you’ll stay in Arrow House with him.

“Good. I will send some men over to your house to gather your belongings. You will stay here until you’re ready to move out.” Tommy confirms, getting up from his seat on the sofa and crossing to his desk, calling his brothers, and telling them to go to your house and gather up your belongings.

You were nervous at first to be living with Tommy, you were worried your mum was going to track you down somehow. You would flinch whenever Tommy moved too fast without warning and Tommy hated the terrified look in your eyes you tried to hide away whenever he did that.

Over time, you adjusted to your new home and life with Tommy. He’d told you to stop calling you Mr. Shelby and to just call him Tommy. You no longer had to work for him, anything you wanted, was provided for you. With Tommy’s help, you were able to slowly but surely recover from the trauma your mother had put you through in your years of living and the longer you spent living in Arrow House the more you felt safe knowing Tommy would keep you safe no matter the cost.

#justabigassnerd #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x teen!reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #tommy shelby x daughter reader #tommy shelby x teen reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #bbc peaky blinders #bbc #by order of the peaky blinders #peaky blinder #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky fooking blinders

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wednesdayismyfunday · 11 months

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Love in the air ( One shot)

Summary : Tommy and y/n in a love bubble

Warnings : fluff

Pairing: Tommy x reader

The house was empty , besides one room. The fire was lit , a glass of red wine was poured . Music playing from the gramophone . Y/n’s eyes closed as she listened to one of her favourite songs . A smile made a way to her face as she thought of all the memories she had with this song. It was her and Tommy’s wedding song. The song was more chipper then the Shelby’s were used . Y/n could still remember all the drunken singing and dancing from the night. She often listened to music when Tommy was at work. Today was like no other . She tended to the horses . Sent her children to school . Helped Ada with the company . Retrieved the kids from school . Ate dinner . Washed them . Sent them to bed. Now she was waiting from Tommy to come home. She knew he was going to be late . He told her as much when he left before the crack of dawn . What she wasn’t expecting was him coming home to her dancing in her night gown.

“ My dear y/n . You have made this day much better.” Tommy said as he leaned against the door.

“ Tommy !!!” Y/n ran and jumped into Tommy’s arms . Tommy caught her with ease . Laughing at his wife. He kissed her ass she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Tommy , you have missed so much ! Marry-Ann had her foul . A strapping boy . And the kids named him Stomper.” Y/n said in between kisses.

“ You’re wearing a new night gown.” Tommy replied.

“ Yes I am. What do you think.” Y/n said as she posed while in Tommy’s arms. Y/n had put on a red lace gown that left little to the imagination.

“ I think we need to have a dance. I need to see you move.” Tommy said as he put y/n down. He bowed and took her hand . He pulled her close and they danced . Y/n and Tommy danced until there feet hurt . At some point even the music stopped but they continued to sway. The fire was dying and a chill began to creep into the room.

“ Tommy , let’s go upstairs , it’s getting chilly and this gown doesn’t have much fabric .” Y/n whispered. Tommy was lost in a trance. All he could muster was a small “okay” . Y/n smiled and held his hand. They walked to their shared bedroom. Tommy’s eyes never wavered from y/n. He was more in love with her every single day. Sometimes he would wake up thinking it was a dream, that he couldn’t have a person like y/n in his life . Then he would hear her grumble in her sleep, or smell her intoxicating scent . He saw it in their children. They had a softness that could only be from their mother.

“ Tommy let’s get you out of these clothes.” Y/n said as she peeled the suit off. She kissed him tenderly as she undressed Tommy.

“ Y/n how did I get so lucky.” Tommy whispered .

“ I’m the lucky one . You are a great husband and an even better dad. Everyday I’m with you feels like I’m reading a book and I never want to put it down.” Y/n gently put Tommy to bed. Kissing him on the forehead . Tommy pulled y/n so that she was laying on top of him. Love was something that couldn’t describe the way they felt for each other . Two hearts beating as one. Souls finally finding each other and melding .

“ You are my everything.”

“ And you are my forever.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #fanfic #peaky blinder #peaky blinder fanfic #fan fiction #tommy shelby fluff

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forgottenpeakywriter · 8 months

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Hi there. I'm looking to make friends and chat with those that like Cillian Murphy, and peaky blinders. Also, I'm obsessed with Cilly as Oppie.

#peaky blinder #peaky blinders #thomasshelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #make friends #just chatting

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queenshelby · 8 months

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Auctioned (P. 4)

Pairing: Dom! Thomas Shelby x Virgin! Reader

Warning: SMUT!

The night of nights had finally come and you stood nervously in your lavish bedroom of Arrow House, the place you now called home. It was all so overwhelming - the grandeur, the opulence, and the weight of the responsibility that came with being in the service of Thomas Shelby, the infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders.

Tonight, was the night you would be losing your innocence to this man, and with this on your mind, you were startled when, suddenly, the door creaked open, and Alison sauntered in with a knowing smirk. She had been tasked with preparing you for your first time, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

"Alright, darling, let's get you ready," Alison said, her voice filled with a mixture of sympathy and matter-of-factness. "We'll start with a bath. It's important to be clean and presentable for what's to come."

As you undressed, Alison filled the large, marble bathtub with warm water, fragrant oils, and rose petals. The room was filled with an intoxicating scent as you stepped into the water, feeling a strange mix of comfort and apprehension.

"I know this is all new to you, and it won't be easy, my dear. Thomas is a man who knows what he wants, and he takes it without remorse,” Alison said, handing you a soft sponge. "But trust me, whilst Thomas Shelby may be rough around the edges, he does have an eye for innocence. He is a complex man. But he's also passionate and caring, in his own twisted way, and you may even enjoy yourself."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what lay ahead.

And then, you tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of your fear. "What is it that he sees in me you think? I am sure he could have money women for free,” you wondered as Alison's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"He sees a vulnerability that he can't resist. A purity that he longs to corrupt,” she determined as she gently washed your body, guiding your hesitant hands along your curves.

"Remember, he likes to be in control. Don't resist him," Alison said, her voice filled with a hint of warning. "You're here to please him. Understood?"

You nodded again, the weight of the situation sinking in. The thought of pleasing Thomas Shelby felt both terrifying and strangely exciting.

Once the bath was over, Alison helped you out and wrapped you in a fluffy towel. She sat you down on a plush velvet chair and moved to a nearby vanity, where she laid out an array of cosmetics.

"Now, my dear, let's talk about what to expect," Alison said, her voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and compassion. "It may hurt, and there may be some blood since it is your first time. It's perfectly normal, love. Thomas won't be fazed by it, and neither should you."

You bit your lip, your anxiety swirling like a storm inside you. You hadn't anticipated the reality of the situation being so raw and gritty. But you were committed, having agreed to Thomas Shelby's terms.

Alison then handed you a small bottle of painkillers, a stark reminder that this encounter would not be without its consequences. "Take these before you go to him. They will help with any discomfort you may feel afterwards. You can thank me later," she smirked as your trembling hand took the vial, the tiny capsules, a stark reminder of the pain that awaited you.

Numbly, you accepted the painkillers, but your mind was filled with a flurry of thoughts. Was this really what you had signed up for? Was it worth it?

Sensing your doubt, Alison leaned in closer, her voice low and gentle. "Honey, I won't sugarcoat it. Thomas has tastes that may seem unconventional to you. But you must do as you're told and please him, in return of which he will look after you,” she explained.

Her words offered a small glimmer of reassurance, but deep down, you couldn't shake the nerves and uncertainty that clung to you like a heavy fog.

Alison stood up and retrieved a beautifully embroidered silk robe from the wardrobe. She helped you slip it on, tying the delicate sash with a practised touch.

"Now that you're ready, my dear, let's talk about what Thomas expects from you," Alison said, her tone shifting to a more direct and business-like demeanour.

You leaned in, hanging on her every word, desperate to understand your role in this twisted dance of power and desire.

"Thomas likes it when you're attentive and when you anticipate his needs," Alison explained, her voice laced with a hint of admiration. "He's a dominant man, and he expects you to submit to his commands. You already had some practice this week, and I doubt that he would go as far as he usually does with me. That will happen in due course” Alison explained and, again, you nodded while fidgeting with the sash of the robe, trying to come to terms with the contradictory nature of Thomas Shelby. A man of darkness and light, capable of both cruelty and compassion.

"Now, let's talk about clean-up," Alison continued, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes.

"To avoid any unwanted consequences, you'll want to take some precautions after your encounter," Alison told you and her tone held a hint of macabre humor, as if she were discussing the mundane rather than the grotesque.

She took you to a small room adjoining the chamber, where supplies awaited. Bottles of antiseptics, cotton swabs, and instructions that felt more like warnings. It was a ritual you must perform after every encounter with Thomas.

"You'll need to be thorough," she explained, her fingers gently demonstrating the motions. "Cleanse yourself of his touch, his seed. We can't afford any slip-ups, my dear."

The realisation of what she meant hit you like a punch to the gut. The thought that this encounter could lead to something more permanent than just a night of submission and pain hadn't crossed your mind until now.

"But what if I'm..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "What if I'm with child?"

Alison's eyes softened for a moment, a glimmer of empathy breaking through the walls she had built around herself. "Then you'll do what you must. But let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The words hung in the air, the weight of the unsaid echoing in the silence. You knew what she meant - the desperate measures that would need to be taken if you were to avoid the consequences of bringing a Shelby child into this world.

"Now, love, I've taught you all I can for tonight but if you need anything, if there's anything you're unsure of, don't hesitate to come to me. I'm here for you,” Alison finally told you before leaving you to your own devices.

Gratitude welled up within you as a small smile tugged at the corners of your trembling lips. In this dark world, you had found an ally, someone who understood the intricacies and dangers that lay ahead.

You took a deep breath, drawing upon the newfound strength that Alison's words had instilled in you. Ready or not, you were about to face Thomas Shelby, the enigmatic and dangerous man who held your fate in his hands.

***

The hallway outside the bedroom was dimly lit, its worn carpet muffling the sounds of your anxious footsteps. As the door to Thomas' bedroom came into view, your heart began to race, pounding in your chest like a drum.

You hesitantly pushed open the door and stepped inside, feeling the weight of his gaze immediately upon you. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, suffused with his dominant presence. Each step closer to him felt like walking to the edge of a precipice, unsure of what lay below.

Thomas Shelby, the formidable leader of the Peaky Blinders, sat on a luxurious armchair near the fireplace, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His intense gaze locked onto you, causing a shiver to cascade down your spine. "Ten thousand pounds, eh," he quipped, his voice laced with arrogance.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you won’t regret it, Mr. Shelby," Your eyes darted around the room, unable to meet his piercing gaze. The nervousness in your voice was palpable.

Thomas then stood up and circled you, his eyes tracing every contour of your body, his gaze filled with undisguised hunger. "I won’t," he then said, before making his first command.

“Now undress,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. With trembling hands, you began to peel away the layers of protective silk, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as your vulnerability became more exposed with each passing second.

“Show yourself to me, Love. Show me your innocent body,” he then cued and your heart skipped a beat as Thomas' words infiltrated your mind.

The contrast of light against shadow, innocence against raw power - it captivated you and frightened you all at once. Thomas moved closer, breathing in your delicate scent, his fingertips grazing the fabric of the robe that still hugged your trembling form. He leaned down, his voice seductive and filled with authority.

"Remember, Love, you are mine tonight. Every thought, every breath, every moan belongs to me. You are my property,” he told you as his gaze roamed over your trembling form, his lips curling up into a satisfied smirk.

You nodded, your voice failing you once again. You were but a canvas, ready to be painted with the brushstrokes of Thomas Shelby's desires. Slowly, Thomas stepped back, his eyes locked on yours as he began to strip away his tailored suit. The muscles of his chest and abdomen rippled with each movement, revealing a powerful physique that left you breathless. The air in the room crackled with a potent mix of anticipation and apprehension. There was a dance happening, an intricate choreography that only Thomas knew the steps to.

"Come closer," Thomas commanded, his voice soft but commanding and you took a hesitant step forward, the floor cool against the soles of your feet, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

In that moment, the line between fear and desire blurred, and you knew you were at the mercy of a man who thrived on both. He circled you like a predator stalking its prey, his fingers grazing the soft skin of your exposed neck. A shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively seeking the warmth and safety of his touch.

"Your sister wasn't wrong, eh," Thomas mused, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "There is a certain innocence about you, a vulnerability that intrigues me. It's rare in this world."

“My sister?” you asked, trembling, as you dared to look into his eyes, searching for any cracks in the façade. But all you found was an enigmatic intensity, a fire that consumed everything in its path.

“Your sister was the one who suggested that I attend the auction which I, may add, I considered to be somewhat distasteful,” Thomas pointed out and, whilst you had so many questions now, you knew that they all would have to wait when Thomas leaned in, his lips brushing gently against your ear as he whispered, sending delicious waves of electricity through your entire being. "But, enough of that now. Tonight, I will show you what it means to be mine and you will submit to me, completely," Tommy said and, with that, Thomas took your hand and led you towards the bed.

The soft sheets cradled your weight as he gently pushed you onto the mattress, his dominance like a spell that held you captive. His touch was electrifying, searing your skin as his hands roamed every inch of your trembling body. Each caress, each brush of his fingertips, sent quivers of anticipation through your core.

"Do you trust me, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice dripping with a mix of lust and possession. It was a question that held more weight than mere words could convey. You looked deep into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability that lay hidden beneath the layers of darkness.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I trust you." A fierce fire ignited within Thomas' gaze, his control slipping for a moment as he passionately claimed your lips, his kiss a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was a whirlwind that consumed you, making you lose all sense of time and space.

Every touch of his lips, every stroke of his fingers, made you forget about everything else except his commanding presence. He expertly navigated your body with the view of getting you ready for the inevitable.

"Spread your legs, Love. Let me see how wet you are," Tommy commanded, his voice low and husky. Your heart hammered in your chest as you followed his instruction, your breath coming in short gasps.

"You are fucking soaking, eh," he determined, his finger stroking your inner thigh. "You really want me to fuck that virgin hole of yours, don't you Love?" he then asked with a devilish grin. Your face flushed red, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. The thought of giving yourself to him, of surrendering yourself completely, both terrified and excited you.

He pulled you closer, his large hands tracing gentle circles across your back.

"I can see it in your eyes, you want this," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as you pressed against him.

"I do, Mr. Shelby," you gasped nervously as he slid his hands along your hips, guiding you to straddle him. "But I am scared that it will hurt," you then admitted as your body shook slightly, fear and excitement coursing through you as you felt his fingers teasingly brush against your entrance.

"Don't worry, love," he whispered into your ear, his deep voice a soothing balm to your racing thoughts. "It will hurt, but only for a little bit. I won't fuck you until I make sure that you are ready," he assured you before beginning to trail kisses down your body.

"I will use my tongue on you first, sweetheart. Just like last night, eh" Tommy determined, his eyes burning with intensity. Your heart raced at the thought of what he meant, and the thought made you even more aroused. You nodded, unable to speak due to the throbbing pulse between your legs and Tommy smiled knowingly, adoring your shyness.

As he slowly lowered himself to your level, his gaze fixated on yours, ensuring you were comfortable with every move he made. His hands caressed your hips and thighs, easing any discomfort that might arise from his actions.

Thomas's lips brushed gently against your sensitive skin, trailing tender kisses along your neck and shoulders. "Trust me, Love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. As you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, you couldn't help but acknowledge the intoxicating sensation that overtook you with each deliberate stroke of his fingers, each soft press of his lips.

Eventually, then, he reached your glistening core and started circling it with his tongue, eliciting soft moans from you as he explored every inch of your nether regions.

Gently, he lifted your leg, spreading you wider with his firm hands, taking full advantage of your submission. You gasped as he probed deeper, teasing your tightness with his tongue, drawing tiny circles around your entrance.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," Tommy groaned, his voice thick with desire. He continued to torment you, pushing you further and further along the edge of ecstasy. With each flick of his tongue, your body seemed to writhe with uncontrollable pleasure.

"Please, Mr. Shelby..." you begged, your voice hoarse from the intensity of your arousal.

Tommy smiled, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He continued to torture you with his skilled mouth, pushing you to the precipice of orgasm.

You squirmed underneath him, trying to find some sort of release. The tension built up inside you, reaching almost unbearable levels.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the pressure growing stronger. "Tommy!" you cried out, your body shuddering violently. "Tommy, please! I need..." You didn't get to finish your sentence, as he shifted his position and smiled.

"No, Love. I won't let you cum until I fucked you thoroughly with my cock," Tommy smiled, unbothered by the fact that you had just dropped the formalities and called him by his first name.

The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made you realize how much power he held over you, your body. It was an erotic thrill, the thought of being taken by him, of surrendering your body fully to his demands.

"Now, get on to all fours for me Love. It is time!" Tommy ordered, causing you to swallow hard, thinking that this position in particular would be more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

Nevertheless, you complied, getting onto all fours, presenting your backside to him. You heard the rustle of the sheets behind you, as Tommy undressed, tossing the remainder of his clothes carelessly aside. His powerful presence filled the room, leaving no doubt as to whose domain it truly was.

Your breath hitched as he came up behind you, his hands resting lightly on your hips. He took his time, running his fingers lightly over your body, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to hurry.

"Are you ready for my cock, Love?" he asked, his voice laced with authority. Your heart pounded faster, the thought of him filling you, bringing not only terror but also a strange sense of exhilaration.

"Yes," you managed to utter, feeling a flush of pride at your own boldness. "I am ready, Mr. Shelby." Your words carried a newfound confidence, a sense of control that had been missing earlier.

Tommy smiled, pleased by your bravery. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Good," he whispered.

"I expect you to take it like a good girl, eh? And I want you to hold nice and still when I fill you," Tommy told you and you could hear the excitement in his voice, a fervour that mirrored your own. He lubricated his fingers, preparing himself for the task ahead. Gently, he pressed a single digit into your entrance, causing you to gasp and clench involuntarily. Slowly, he worked another finger inside of you, stretching you incrementally, building up to what was about to happen next.

"Relax, Love," he instructed gently, his fingers working rhythmically in and out of you. "Let yourself feel the pleasure I'm going to give you." Your breathing became increasingly erratic, your entire focus narrowed to the point where you could only concentrate on his touch.

But, just before you could cum, Tommy removed his fingers and replaced them with his thick cock, which now pushed against your entrance.

"I am going to push in now," Tommy warned you and your eyes widened, your body trembling with anticipation and fear. But there was also a sense of triumph, as if conquering something deeply personal, something that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

You braced yourself, tensing as he began to push into you while you held on to one of the pillows.

"It hurts," you cried out while Tommy watched as his thick length pushed past your pussy lips as he forced another inch into you.

"It's okay, Love. Breathe through it," he murmured, gripping your hips tightly. He knew that you were new to this, that it wouldn't come naturally to you. But you had to learn, you had to adapt.

You gritted your teeth, tears stinging your eyes, feeling the pain sear through your body.

"You are doing well. I am halfway in," Tommy told you as, eventually, he could feel your barrier. Your body tensed even more, but he kept pushing, gradually forcing your virgin walls to yield to his advance.

"This is your first time," he said, his voice full of admiration. "And I will be the one to claim your innocence, eh," Tommy groaned as, with a final forceful thrust, he was entirely sheathed within you, filling you completely.

"Fuck, you are tight," you then heard Tommy curse as you felt a warm kind of liquid tickle down your inner thighs, which you knew may have been blood as Alison had warned you to be the case.

Your body was on fire, and it was only now that you realized the true extent of the physical impact of what had just occurred.

"You are not so innocent anymore," Tommy groaned before slowly beginning to thrust in and out of you and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the pain.

Your body ached everywhere, yet a strange kind of pleasure mixed with the pain coursed through you.

"Now tell me Love, who do you belong to?" Tommy asked, his voice gruff with desire. You couldn't believe you were really having this conversation, yet somehow, the heat of his body against yours and the ache inside you caused by his cock, made you believe it was real.

"I belong to you, Mr. Shelby," you replied, your voice shaking slightly. Despite the immense pain, your response was met with a smile of approval from Tommy.

He pulled out slightly, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before plunging back in, harder this time.

"That's right Love. You belong to me," he groaned as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. Your body was starting to adjust to the intrusion, and despite the pain, a deep and powerful wave of pleasure washed over you with each thrust. The rhythmic slap of his hips against yours filled the room, drowning out everything else.

You bit your lip, trying to maintain composure as you clung desperately to the pillow, your nails digging into the fabric. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you weren't quite there yet.

Just as you were about to reach the peak, Tommy suddenly stopped, pulling out of you with a grunt.

"What are you doing?" you cried out, frustrated and disoriented by the sudden change.

"Shhh, Love," he whispered, placing a finger on your lips. "Just trust me." His intense gaze held yours, making it difficult for you to resist him. You nodded hesitantly, unsure of what he had planned.

Without warning, Tommy scooped you up in his arms, carrying you effortlessly across the room.

You gasped in surprise, wondering what was happening.

"Where are we going?" you asked nervously, unable to hide your apprehension.

"Trust me, Love," Tommy reassured you with a gentle smile. "You'll see."

As he reached the window, he carefully lowered you onto the ledge, standing close enough to support you if needed. Together, you looked out over the land surrounding Arrow House, the moonlight casting a silver glow upon the landscape below as well as the streets of Birmingham, far in the distance.

"Do you see this?" he asked, gesturing toward the breathtaking view. "This is mine. All of it. Everything you see here, belongs to me." He paused, turning to face you with a look of determination in his eyes. "You too, belong to me. You are my fucking property and I want you to remember that every time you look at these streets, these buildings, everything that makes up this empire."

A cold chill ran down your spine, understanding the weight of his words. You were nothing more than a possession, belonging to him like any other material thing he owned.

The thought of being considered as valuable as the buildings below filled you with both anger and shame. You wanted to argue, to protest, but you couldn't deny the truth in his words.

"Now bend down, Love. I want to fuck you some more," Tommy growled, his voice low and commanding. Feeling the power in his words, you bent over the ledge, presenting yourself to him once again. He grabbed your hips firmly, positioning you perfectly. The wind gently brushed against your skin, chilling you to the core, but it didn't stop you from obeying him.

"That's it, good girl," he cooed as he lined himself up with your sore entrance again.

You felt the familiar burning sensation as he entered you once more, your muscles struggling to relax around his sizeable member.

"Remember, you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with you," Tommy reminded you as he started to thrust into you.

Your cheeks flushed red as you felt a mixture of humiliation and arousal at his words.

You bit your lip hard, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of him sliding in and out of you.

With every thrust, you could feel him claiming you, marking you as his own. The intensity of his grip on your hips left no doubt about the strength of his dominance over you. It was as though he was branding you with his touch, leaving an indelible mark that would forever be a part of you.

"Come on, Love," he urged, his voice rough with passion.

"Take me deeper." You obeyed instinctively, burying your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. The pleasure-pain combination was reaching new heights, making you realize how unprepared you were for this intense experience.

As the tempo increased, the wind howled, matching the frenzy of your own cries. The air turned colder, sending shivers through your body, only making you crave more of his touch.

"You are making a mess all over the floor Love," Tommy groaned playfully, his grip on your hips tightening.

"I am sorry," you managed to utter, barely able to form the words due to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you.

"No apologies," he snapped, a dark gleam in his eye. "You enjoy it, don't you? Letting yourself go, feeling the sensations washing over you."

"Yes," you moaned, finding yourself helplessly lost in the moment.

"Good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming even more forceful.

"Keep looking out, let it remind you whose property you truly are." You obeyed, feeling your resolve waver under the intensity of his touch. The cold wind whipped against your skin, adding another layer of discomfort to your situation. Yet, the pain seemed to amplify the exquisite pleasure coursing through your body.

His grip on your hips tightened as he continued to move in and out of you, the rhythm matching the beat of your heart.

Your cries became louder, mingling with the wind and echoing through the silent corridors of Arrow House. As your body trembled from the intense sensations, you tried to suppress the growing fear that overwhelmed you. How could you possibly give yourself fully to such a man without losing yourself in the process?

With each thrust, you felt your connection to Thomas deepen, your vulnerability exposed, and your independence diminished. You found yourself struggling to reconcile the reality of your situation with the idealized image of love and devotion you had envisioned for yourself.

"Do you want to cum?" Tommy eventually asked, seeing that you could not take too much more of this.

You nodded vigorously, eager to release the pent-up tension coursing through your body.

He continued to thrust into you at a faster pace, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. You felt a building pressure within you, an uncontrollable need to explode.

"Cum for me, Love," he commanded, his grip on your hips tightening further.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, engulfing you in a wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

Your entire body shook with the intensity of it, your grip on the ledge tightening almost painfully.

"So good, isn't it?" Tommy asked, his eyes burning with pride. You couldn't find the words to answer him, still reeling from the aftershocks of your climax as he sped up again, finding his very own release.

Sweat dripped down your forehead, mingling with the tears that stained your cheeks. The cold wind whipped against your heated skin, adding another layer of discomfort to your situation. Yet, the pain seemed to amplify the exquisite pleasure coursing through your body.

"Almost there Love. I am going to cum in this virgin cunt of yours, eh" Tommy groaned loudly, the sound filling the quietness of the night as your orgasm subsided and you felt increasingly sore.

"You better learn to love this feeling because it's going to become the norm. I will fill your holes with my cum every fucking day from now on," Tommy howled as he thrusted into you harder and you tried to catch your breath as you struggled to understand the extent of your submission to him.

His harsh, possessive tone only served to make you tremble in fear and arousal simultaneously. You knew then that there was no escape from this life, no way to break free from his grasp.

"Y/N," he growled, pounding into you with renewed ferocity. "Your body belongs to me. Your pleasures are mine to control. Do you understand?"

Swallowing thickly, you nodded reluctantly, your throat raw from earlier cries. "Yes," you whispered, barely audible even to yourself.

"Good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as your cries became louder, mingling with the wind and echoing through the silent corridors of Arrow House.

"Now, hold nice and still for me, eh" Tommy groaned, pulsating inside of you, and filling you with his warm seed.

"Fuck," Tommy groaned, pumping himself into you until he finally shot his entire load into you.

His body convulsed in ecstasy, and you felt the hot stickiness of his semen pouring into you, mixing with your very own wetness and the blood from your torn innocence until, eventually, he pulled out of your sore pussy.

"Look at that Love. Look at you leaking my cum," Tommy cooed, forcing you to turn around and making you look down at your soiled body, stained with his seed and the evidence of your lost virginity.

"It's going to happen a lot more often now, eh?" Tommy smirked while your body was still trembling from the force of your orgasm.

"Yes Mr. Shelby. I will be at your service whenever you need," you said, your voice wavering slightly as you regained your composure. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as you processed the implications of his last statement.

"Good girl," he said, the praise laced with his characteristic blend of authority and desire. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch involuntarily. His eyes flashed with a mix of tenderness and menace, his expression conveying the complexity of his feelings towards you.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your bearings after the intense encounter.

You stared at the mess you had made on the floor, feeling a strange mixture of shame and excitement. You glanced back at Thomas, who stood proudly watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. Your heart raced as you began to comprehend the true extent of your predicament – you were now owned by him, bound to fulfill his desires whenever he wished.

As you stood there, the wind whipping around you, you realized just how far you had come from the innocent young woman you once were.

"Now, you should get cleaned up Love. I am sure Alison explained the procedure to you?" Tommy asked casually, breaking the silence that had fallen upon you both.

"Yes, she did. She said it is to avoid pregnancy," you answered, feeling a sudden surge of panic at the thought of getting pregnant.

"Correct, so I will leave you to it, eh?" Tommy smiled, his fingers brushing against your cheek affectionately.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby," you replied, attempting to mask your anxiety behind a veil of gratitude.

He gave you a slight nod before turning and walking towards the door, leaving you alone to process the events of the evening.

Standing there, you found yourself surrounded by the evidence of your defilement - the sweaty sheets tangled around your legs, the faint scent of sex in the air, and the knowledge that your innocence was irreparably shattered. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought about the future that lay ahead of you.

Even though you had been warned about what might happen, experiencing it firsthand left you reeling.

Your entire body ached from the intense physical exertion, yet your mind still buzzed with the aftermath of your loss of innocence. The cold draft of the night seeped through the open window, chilling your naked skin and reminding you of the vulnerability you felt.

This was your life now and, for some twisted reason, you already enjoyed it.

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lilyrachelcassidy · 2 years

Note

Hi! How are you?

How about tommy shelby being in a marriage with a younger reader , who he often cheats with lizzie , the reader starts living life with parties , friends , shopping and affairs of her own , tommy falls for her but she always rejects his affections .

I never saw something like tjat and i tought it would be interesting

Thank you!

[Additional] summary: Five stages in which Y/N tried to make amends in her relationship with Tommy but failed miserably.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: coarse language, cheating, mentions of alcohol and drugs, some graphics, ANGST (with happy ending my babes)

Distant

I. rancor

When he opened the front door to their house, midnight walloping on the wall clock, Y/N could immediately tell where Tommy had been. He soon walked into their bedroom, the place that had carried so many memories along with it, good memories actually, those of the time before their relationship had begun to deteriorate. Tommy would stain them now when he would dare to come back to her after the hours' bash, reeking of cigars and courtesans.

The one courtesan she had in particular on the mind - bloody Lizzy.

The envious, little bitch would do anything to demolish the beautiful bond Tommy and her shared, barging and creating a wall of interspace with the last cell of her bloody existence between the two of them. Y/N knew, at the same time, she wasn't barking up the wrong tree and her assumptions about Lizzy were indeed correct; her nostrils could detect a cheap, rancid scent of Lizzy's perfume from miles. And when Tommy would come up late at night, the same scent was invasively clinging to his body, the smell almost smothering for Y/N.

"Are you asleep?" asked Tommy, innocently, as if he had just returned from something that lacked culpability that he was actually dealing with. Taking off his garments, leaving only briefs on, he crawled over to her side of the bed. His breath was huffing down her neck, softly and gratifyingly, but the only thing Y/N could think about was that the mere hours before, it was at somebody else’s neck.

Or other parts of the body Y/N wouldn’t like to think about.

“No, not yet,” she replied, deceptively faking a sweet tone. “Where have you been for such a long time?”

His body tensed marginally, something most people wouldn’t have noticed but a flinch that had become indicative for Y/N within three years. Maybe Tommy could be an excellent master of counterfeiting emotions but his body signs would divulge the truth, guilt stiffening his movements in the slightest.

“Have been off to work with Arthur. Had to deal with Solomons’ people.” He was forging himself under a duvet with her now, one of his arms coiling around her waist.

Y/N’s heart sank; maybe a naive part of her still believed that he wouldn’t lie. “Oh, okay.”

“What have you been up to today?”

And then she told him about the hard way she had tried to busy herself in the vast, barren mansion: she had written some bits for the new novel she had been working on for a couple of months; she had responded to some of his relatives from the extended family who had asked for urgent contact; she had quaffed enormous amounts of coffee while watching the enchanting landscape spreading before their house. She decided to omit the parts when she had felt so lonely, no friends nor family members caring enough to pay a visit, her only companion being Mary - their maid - who owned a rather stiff lip.

In utter earnest, she wished to run away some days, bolting like a stallion in the center of overwhelming grassland and never looking back.

“I was thinking,” Y/N took up again. “Maybe we could go to dinner tomorrow? A new restaurant has been recently opened - ‘L'Arpège’, it’s called. It’s French and I thought-”

“I can’t,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cold but guilty at the same time. “I have a meeting tomorrow... with some clients.”

“Oh...” Another surge of disappointment pierced through her. “May I come with you then?”

“You know, I’d love you to come. It’s just that...” He started fidgeting with words - an attempt to think up an excuse, Y/N realized quickly. “It’s a late-night meeting, Y/N, I just... wouldn’t want to drag you into that. There will be a lot of men, dangerous men. I just think it would be better if... you stayed out of it.”

‘So Lizzy could join you?’ Y/N thought to herself.

She really couldn’t determine what was boiling in her. Anger? Disappointment? She had been far over that emotional state of actually caring for his fabrications after the first time she had caught him cheating, sitting in the pub, his arms tangled around the woman she had learned to abhor.

From that time she had felt numb, indifferent to what he would say. So why, why would those little pangs of pain still sting her so badly, stripping her from the last remnants of dignity?

“I understand,” she said, her voice uncontrollably lower.

“I’m glad you do. So how about I arrange a horse ride for you tomorrow? I’m sure Curly would-”

“I’m okay, Tom. I’ll manage,” Y/N said quickly, butting in, somehow aggressively. But she didn’t pay too much mind to her outburst, really, as unconscious tears started brimming in her eyes. She couldn’t fall apart; not now, not before him. “Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

After a few hours, Y/N was still awake. Sulky tears already settled, their wet traces desiccating on her skin.

Irrepressibly, she wondered what it would be like to free herself from that agony.

Perhaps, there was the only way to find out.

II. replay (three month earlier)

Y/N was walking down the dim-lit, dungy alley making her way over to The Garrison pub, where Tommy was carrying some business meeting with Arthur and Polly.

She wished to make a surprise for Tommy with her arrival, mollifying his work time with her come-up. After all, he had been working so hard those recent days, returning to their home at bizarrely late hours, his face smudged with weariness and lethargy. Y/N pitied him, really, and had hoped to help him with swarms of paperwork; but he would never accept her offer, always explaining that he wouldn’t want to interlace her with his job.

And she understood.

His attitude towards her had changed too; he wouldn’t be that kind, considerate man she used to remember back in the days. Instead, he was pensive and aloof, and no longer would he try to make those little romantic gestures he used to in the beginnings of their relationship. Y/N didn’t blame him, however; she could tell that he was overworked and perhaps occupied with the assemblage of duties he had on his mind.

Nevertheless, that didn’t discourage her from trying to ease his time. She had a whole plan set in her head - promptly, she would get him out of the meeting, excusing his withdrawal with some urgent family case. Then, they would go over to the bank of the river - the place of their first meeting - and would sit at one of the close-by benches, the pale lantern light irradiating while they relished watching the river water glistening in the moonlight. They could munch on a couple of cookies, Tommy’s favorites, which Y/N had prepared especially for him...

Almost nearing the pub, Y/N sighed at the thought. She could already see the luminous lighting of the place, silhouettes casting shadows, contrasting against the dark streets of the gloomy area. The light sound of chatter and drunken jabber could be heard from that distance, livening the rest of the deadly neighborhood that was probably asleep.

Y/N was humming a song under her breath as she approached. A small smile was welcoming her face, the enthusiasm bustling within her. The cookies were pleasantly rattling in her purse as she stopped in her tracks, face to face with the pub window, and she looked in, attempting to spot Tommy in the middle of the teeming crowd.

She scanned the insides of the room: so many familiar faces she used to come upon so many times. They were all laughing and chanting, beer pints happily cradled in their hands, apparently enjoying their heedless time. Y/N’s gaze traveled further, slowly and carefully, over to a distant corner - Arthur was sitting there, laughing at something John had murmured into his ear, the contents of his pint dangerously rocking from one side to another; next to him were also Polly, guffawing, Finn, Ada, and...

Oh, what the fu-

Y/N’s heart spun at an unexpectedly fast pace and dropped into her stomach. Not sure whether she was seeing properly, Y/N pinched herself on the arm, checking if what was displaying just before her eyes was real - but indeed, Tommy was rested on one of the very seats of the mushy sofa. One of his arms was tightly wrapped around Lizzy, from what she knew his secretary, tugging her over to his side, their bodies menacingly close to one another.

For just a moment, Y/N thought - no, hoped - that perhaps she was hallucinating, her tiredness hazing the reality from her. Maybe she was overthinking that. Maybe it was just a friendly hug, Tommy’s drunken stupor rendering him more neglectful of holding his usual, cold composure towards the others.

But she was wrong, she realized, when Tommy leaned towards Lizzy, his grip tightening on her arm, eyes sparkling and warm. And he kissed her, passionately, not the way he would use to do that with Y/N now. His lips zealously landed on Lizzy’s, the hungry desire detectable in the action. Visibly, he was enjoying himself, and so was Lizzy whose hands were roving all over his body, eventually stopping at his head and playing with some random strands of his silky hair.

Y/N's heart was going a million miles an hour, and she suddenly felt it difficult to swallow. Her mouth went dry, and there was a lump of a fist size in her throat. Bitter tears quickly started accumulating in her eyes, and she swore she couldn’t breathe for a moment. All she wanted was to curl into a little ball on the swampy floor and lie there forever.

Instead, she just stared into the window, not taking in whatever she had just witnessed in front of her. The tears were streaming down her face, her eyes becoming puffy within seconds.

So he was cheating. For how long? And why?

Was it because of her? Had she done something wrong?

All of the thoughts gushed into her head like a flowing waterfall, and Y/N hated herself for having that much negativity garnered in her.

Clasping the hand on her mouth and preventing a nasty gasp from escaping from it, she turned away rapidly and ran away from the place. She was taking long strides, wishing to be back at home and able to writhe under a warm blanket, crying until the emotions were sucked out of her. Little was she aware of where she was heading as the tears fogged her vision, the flux of despair washing over her.

He had stopped caring.

He was indifferent towards hurting her, and so naively did she believe in his lies, vindicating him from his get-together with Lizzy.

She had trusted him. And now, she hated herself for being far too gullible.

III. rust

“You sure you wanna do this?” asked Isaiah, his fingers toying with the hem of Y/N’s skirt. His eyes were fully dilated in lust, and he was probably just asking as a matter of precaution, inspecting whether Y/N was actually serious about her quest and whether the revolt against his boss was worth it.

She nodded fervently. “Yes, I am.”

It was all about to begin - tit for tat Tommy had triggered her to do. Within months that had lacked intimacy and communication, Y/N had learned to become impassive. If he didn’t need her, nor did she need him.

“And Tommy won’t find out, yeah?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing deeply. “Certainly.”

At that, he tilted slightly and planted kisses all over her neck, his minty breath tickling the hair on her skin. “As you wish,” he whispered into her ear, his tone shoving a couple of steamy images in her head.

Y/N wasn’t sure if that was what she actually wanted. A part of her, the more moral one, told her warningly that whatever she was intending to do was not good and unfair towards her husband to whom she had sworn unconditional commitment. The other side, however, justified her motives; if he could act promiscuously, why couldn’t she? She really couldn’t decide how to feel.

In the meantime, Isaiah was just casting off his shirt and carefully unbuttoning Y/N’s blouse. He was in the midway of taking care of their clothes, clearly unbothered with keeping up loyalty to his boss. His lips, more chapped than Tommy’s, were all over her skin, igniting a great passion in every place he kissed. The soft moans were slipping from her lips while she laid underneath him, the pressure of his weight making her pleasantly warm.

When Y/N encountered Isaiah for the first time was during one of the Peaky Blinders’ gatherings that Tommy had called up in their house. Of course, one of the participants of it had been Lizzy too, though she had restrained from throwing herself at Tommy in Y/N’s presence.

But Y/N had noticed their sneaky glances from across the room and the fueling smirks on their lips. That was all confirmation Y/N had had to receive.

At that moment, she hadn’t been thinking clearly, plainly acting on her impulses - after the meeting, she had secretly grabbed Isaiah by the robes and hauled him to the guest room where they had made out until the air was sucked out of them. She hadn’t felt guilt nor shame, only a sweet taste of vengeance coursing through her body.

Today was their fourth get-together. Yet it was somehow different than the previous times - they had never crossed the level of carnality other than kissing and touching.

Blame was margining with her reasonable thinking and acutely reminding her that she could be so over that jealousy; she didn’t need to do that to herself in order to punish Tommy. At least for her, she did punish him in her mind.

‘But he cheated too,’ Y/N told herself. ‘So it’s an eye for an eye, basically.’

Isaiah’s mouth was on her belly now, a growl rumbling in his chest, and he was placing kisses all the way from her breasts to her abdomen, the intense want pooling in her lower parts. Y/N found herself reaching down to wrap her fingers in his black hair, gripping roughly and arching her back. The tension within her was unbearable.

His eyes flickered up to meet Y/N’s gaze once more, briefly, asking for the ultimate permission to take her tongs off. The breath was heaving in both of them, their chests falling and raising to the intermittent heartbeats.

“Do it. Please.”

IV. ravage

“Hello, love,” said Tommy, cheerfully, entering the threshold of the office where Y/N was currently working on her novel. A moss woolen sweater was enfolding her arms, gray sweatpants pulled on and strapped around her waist; the homy outfit she would wear only around the house and still manage to look absolutely glamorous. Her hair was twisted in a loose bun, the glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose with a seamless dose of sophistication.

She gave him a half-smile when he approached her, pecking her cheek, but didn’t tear her gaze away from the typewriter where a virtually written page was scurrying to the last dot. Her fingers were briskly flying from one button onto the next one, and when she was finished, she purred in gratification and riveted to her husband.

“Done?”

“Yes.” She stretched her arms above her head, smiling, whereas Tommy leaned on the verge of the desk. “A good day too?”

He nodded in response, a faint smile gracing his lips. “So I was thinking, maybe we should go to that restaurant you were talking about earlier,” he said, without preamble, his tone disclosing a certain assertion, not a hint of invitation Y/N wished for.

He wasn’t asking her out; he was informing her of his plans with her.

A lava slide of anger and resentment swept away her rationality. How the fuck could he kick her around like that, ill-treating her for a couple of weeks, and then deciding on what she should do after Lizzy had probably met up with her other client, consequently cock-blocking him? There was that particular self-assurance with which Tommy had told her, or ‘offered’ her, a dinner that had tossed her patience aside; she wasn’t his possession after all. And she wanted to make a fair point out of that.

Something in her expression apparently crumpled because Tommy was ogling her with interested eyes, a wary eyebrow raised in query. “What do you think of that?”

“Oh, so now you’re asking,” said Y/N in a huff.

He frowned. “What are you on about?”

Unsuccessfully thwarting herself from a word vomit, she stood up so that her face could level up with Tommy’s, her eyes raging. His, on the other hand, were confused and in no apparent cognition of the upcoming tantrum. “In the last weeks, you did nothing to acknowledge our relationship. To acknowledge me. All I did was try to go out with you, or do something together, whatever you wanted. But instead, you dismissed all of that. And I don't understand why it’s so bloody difficult for you to include me in your life.” She took a pause, eyes filming over with hands flinging all over the place. “And now you are inviting me - no - telling me, that you decided to finally find some spare time for me. Oh, how generous of you.”

“You know the company is giving me a hard time. I go the extra mile to make things work, and that’s your effing gratitude?” he said angrily, and now with a hint of indignation tainting in voice.

“Oh please, give me a break,” she snapped, even more furious and glaring. As never, or at least never in front of her, Tommy’s face was incandescent, and his jaw popping from all the heavy clenching. “I saw you with Lizzy back in the days, snogging back in the pub. Were you working then too?”

He blinked, thunderstruck, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something but lacked words for that. The steely glare was locked on Y/N, perhaps transfixed with how he should respond to the crude truth he had no idea his wife had found out about. Ultimately, he pressed his lips together and took a step forward. “Perhaps if you weren’t so incongruous and childish, maybe I wouldn't need Lizzy for anything. And not behaving like a fuckin’ nun, Y/N.”

Ouch. It stung her.

Awfully, as though he had slapped her with full force.

Or maybe that would have hurt less.

Y/N took a step back, tears of rage and frustration trickling down her face. So there he was: pinning the responsibility of his infidelity on her, absolute dearth of shame for calling his wife out and, in lieu, defending his slip with the woman who had been mounting him for no other reason but money. She felt a dull ache in her chest, and her body stiffened. Evidently aware that he had crossed the line, his eyes changed back, the distinctive traces of regret in them. His arm lifted and, for a moment, attempted to take a hold of her hand as a form of placation. But she pushed him away, the spleen raising in her chest. “I’m going back to my parents’.”

“Y/N,” he began, strained, trying to get a hold of her but in vain. She just shook her head and retreated, doing her best to prevent herself from spilling any tears for him.

“Don’t fucking try to contact me. I’m gonna leave and... and-”

“Y/N.” His tone was pleading now, and so were his eyes. He tried to reach for her again but met with another compulsion of rebuff. “I’m so so-”

“Shut it!”

Without bothering to give him a second glance and afraid that he would see how much the conversation had shaken her, she turned on her heel and dashed out of the room. Not completely conscious of what she was doing, she headed to the wardrobe to fetch some of her belongings.

Tommy didn’t chase her, and mindfully so. She wasn’t able to face him right now after what he had told her; so, he had thought Lizzy better. In shade of the relationship, she hadn’t known that she had been razing.

Her shoulder stiffed at the thoughts in her mind, horror and moroseness coursing through her body.

If he really had enough of her, she won’t be a burden for him anymore. She will happily retreat.

V. recovery: a new start

It had been two months since Y/N had last heard from Tommy. Yes, against her plea not to, he had tried to contact her. And yes, he had arrived at her parents’ doorstep a dozen times. But her family was supportive of her and the resolutions she had made, accordingly dismissing Tommy from their house.

The fact was that Y/N reckoned living with her parents as a tad shaky and inconvenient - after all, she had to obey the prevailing rules they had in their household (which some Y/N had thought ridiculous for plentiful reasons). Their watchful and condescending remarks weren’t a charm either. At the same time, however, she felt like she finally unchained herself from the venomous aura of the Mansion she had inhabited a while ago; and it hadn’t felt like home to her anymore.

And so she enjoyed her old childhood room she had left behind years ago, chalk-white walls still reminding her of the times she had drawn at them with the crayons, to enlighten the area.

Y/N was laying face-down on the satin, pukey-pink sheets, a rumbling in her stomach reminding her that she hadn’t had any breakfast yet (although, it was already afternoon). Nose pressed to the pillow, she mentally braced herself for today’s plans - proffered by her father, they had to drop in at the Mansion to fix the rest of the clothing she had abandoned.

Obviously, it wasn’t a very pleasant thought to say at least; but if she wanted to move forward, perhaps start a new chapter of her life she close the preceding one. And she wanted to do both so badly.

The doors cracked while flinging wide open and Y/N’s mom walked into the room.

“Why aren’t you out of bed yet? Are you alright?”

“Yes, ma, don’t worry about that,” she said while staking out a sitting position. She covertly glanced over at her mom who was standing in the door frame, her attire absolutely irreproachable with a corsage, her face genuinely worried.

“Crying again, were you, Cherie?” Had she? Y/N hadn’t noticed before until now when her hand touched the tear-stained face. “We can talk about that if-“

“Ma, no, please. I’ve been over that,” she said, her lip subconsciously letting out a small tremble. “I…just don’t want to talk… about him.”

Mom’s eyes were sympathetic and her mouth was moving, but Y/N had muffled all the sounds coming from the peripherals with her torrent of thoughts. She had been through that so many times; Mom, usually at the end of the day, would attempt to approach the topic in many ways. Y/N would always deny it, however, deciding that it was still far too hurtful to discuss him.

As the three o’clock was rounding, Y/N was already sitting in the rear of the car with her father behind the wheel. They had barely exchanged any word throughout the entire journey as Y/N tried to deal with her volley of emotions - anxiousness, itching dejection, a jot of bitterness? She couldn’t decide, really. But she was keenly aware of a fist-size lump forming in her throat and a sharp ache expanding in her chest.

Before Y/N could notice, a stream of tears was freely rushing down her cheeks. She secretly tried to wipe them off but she knew that her father had caught sight of her emotional outburst in the rear-view mirror. Yet he made no comment to which Y/N was extremely thankful.

“Here we’re sweetheart,” said Father after another half an hour had slipped. Y/N shortly glanced out of the window - indeed, the stony, colossal walls of the mansion were spreading before their sight. Y/N had to quell an instantaneous urge to run away as she slowly, carefully reached for the handle and reluctantly stepped out of the car.

“I’ll be here, yeah? In case you need me.”The Father’s voice distinctly echoed in her ears but Y/N only heard that like through a haze. She merely sent him a grateful smile in response and silently received his form of succor.

‘It’ll all be gone in a few minutes,’ Y/N thought to herself, trudging towards the entrance of the Mansion. So many times had she passed that threshold, so many times had she walked that way. Was it all going to become nothing but a remote memory now?

Soon, she was heavily knocking on the door and was faced with her former maid’s smile who, with a hand gesture, was welcoming her and spurring her to come inside. After a moment of waver, Y/N finally gave in.

Strangely, she had expected the maid to show her a way to the bedroom because she didn’t belong there, not anymore; she was just trespassing like a mere guest did. But when the maid remained at the door, staring at her with a curious eye, Y/N understood the allusion - she was meant to go by herself.

And so she did.

Those stately oil paintings were still strewing the white walls and as Y/N plodded and plodded on through the high-celling halls. Her heels were almost stridently clicking on the floor, contrasting with the prevailing silence and her heavy breathing. Y/N did her best to focus on something else, anything else that could render her less nervous for the upcoming; she decided on counting.

One, two, three. One, two three...

In the next instant, she was standing in front of the mahogany door of the bedroom. It wasn’t going to be easy, she knew as much. Even if indifferent throughout their relationship, Thomas Shelby was a man of honor after all, and Y/N, certain in her conviction, was sure that he was waiting just behind that very door.

She waited a few more jiffs, bracing herself mentally, before finally swinging the door ajar and instantly beholding him, settled on the edge of the bed, and staring blankly at the brim of the glass he was tightly clutching in his hand. As soon as he heard her, however, his head snapped in her direction and Y/N quickly noticed the bloodshot whites of his eyes mixed with the steeliness of his orbs.

Per usual, top-notch elegance was radiating from him, his fossil-gray suit in an intact state and hair precisely sleeked to the back of his head. He had changed, however; he had become gaunt, so gaunt actually that Y/N could practically make out an outline of his ribs through a thin layer of his white shirt; the bags under his eyes, dark and cavernous, were giving the definite reminder of how much of a good night sleep he had missed out on; the wrinkles on his forehead marginally deepened, giving him an older appearance of what Y/N actually knew to be a true one...

It wasn’t the same Tommy Y/N had memorized the last time. Now he looked positively ghastly and it required a great composure of Y/N from quelling a gasp.

“Y/N,” said Tommy in a hoarse voice. Hadn’t she been a short distance from him, she wouldn’t have heard him at all. He scrambled to his feet at once, never tearing his gaze away from her figure as if in the trance. “Could we talk?”

Y/N wavered. Perhaps if he didn’t look as desperate and if she wasn’t so worried (yes! worried!) by his utterly unhealthy appearance, she probably would have rebuffed. But in lieu, she merely nodded and trotted to the chair opposite the bed.

Sensing a thick air between the two of them, Tommy got up and poured himself an ample slug of whiskey, and after a moment’s consideration, he also asked Y/N to which she declined. He took a few gulps before finally looking at Y/N again.

“I’ve missed you,” he croaked finally, which Y/N knew cost him a great deal since it was particularly hard for Tommy to speak of his emotions. The fingers of his free hand were fidgeting slightly on his knee as Y/N glanced up at him, streaked with utter astonishment. She wanted, so badly, to tell herself that his words didn’t matter anymore, nothing anymore did but it would have been a fat lie. She knew for that fact because it was suddenly extremely hard for her to swallow.

“Er-” She started looking around the room, busing herself with something, deliberately not gazing in his direction. “I’ve come to pick up the rest of my things, Tommy. If you want to atone for anything, I think it’s a little too late now.”

Even Y/N surprised herself that she had managed such a cold, collected tone; in fact, it was the opposite of what she was right now - jittery and emotional.

“Y/N-”

“Please, don’t” She chimed in before Tommy could say anything again. “I don’t want to explain anything. You... you hurt me, Tommy.” It was difficult for her to carry that out loud but when she ultimately did, she felt a thunderbolt of plunging emotions on her chest; and then, the tears began accumulating uncontrollably in her eyes. Quickly, she turned her face to the side, trying to conceal her waterworks, though unnecessarily so.

An uncomfortable grunt issued from Tommy’s throat and he took the next quaff from the glass, waiting for her to get a hold of herself. He had always been massively fazed when girls cried in his presence, even give it his wife of three years. Never had he understood why anyone would display their lack of self-possession in such an ostentatious way.

“Sorry,” said Y/N finally, wiping the residue of her tears with a hand. She sniffed a little, her eyes puffy, and Tommy offered her a silky handkerchief which she gladly accepted.

“That's alright,” said Tommy, giving her a final look of what he hoped was sympathy. “But please, let me just say one thing. Before, you know...”

‘-decide to leave you,” Y/N ended the sentence in her head. The mere prospect of abandoning him now, even though she had deliberated that for long days in her parents' room, was suddenly very suffocating.

With a final sniff, still keeping her gaze downcast, she nodded. After all, even though he had mauled her massively, as much as she could do in a final commemoration of their relationship.

“I’ve never intended on making you feel inferior, Y/N,” admitted Tommy, a flint of guilt flickering in his eyes, his fingers starting to draw nervous patterns on his knee again. As for someone who had always kept themself still, he seemed exceptionally vulnerable right now. “Lizzy - that was a mistake. She was a fuckin’ mistake. I... I...” His voice relatively faltered, and Y/N thought for a second that he might start crying. Thomas Shelby crying - the world was fucking weird. “All I want to say is that I’m sorry. God, if I could have turned back time, it all would have... been different. I don’t want you to fuckin’ leave, Y/N. Those past few months made that excruciatingly lucid to me.”

It was one of those moments in Y/N’s life when she didn’t know what she ought to say or even ought to feel. There was seething anger and hiccuping sadness simmering in the pit of her stomach, her head pounding loudly from all the aggregation of conflicting emotions; but there was a certain self-satisfaction raising within her - it was what she had wanted from the very beginning, making him entreat her for forgiveness, implore to stay.

“Tommy,” Y/N said heavily, her entire body tingling. “You know, I can’t do that.”

And then she looked at him again, his eyes conveying a magnetic force. They were staring at each other for some time, the desperation between the two aloft. It was all as if they were strangers to each other anew.

“Please, let me... make amends for that.”

“Tommy-”

“And I don’t mean that you have to move in with me instantly, tough as much as I’d like that. But... have dinner with me. Tomorrow night. No strings attached, just a casual dinner. In the restaurant that you wanted to visit - ‘L'Arpège’.”

“You... you remembered? After all that time?” Y/N took a dramatic pause there, her brows knitted together and almost pressing into one line. That sudden fact clouted her with a startling force.

“I haven’t been entirely ignorant towards you, Y/N. Some part of me... always looked out for you, you know. Though a better part of me was still a jerk,” he snickered and, not quite able to suppress it, so did his interlocutor. Until just now, she hadn’t been aware of how much she had missed that smile. “So what do you say?”

She noticed how his eyes swiveled with tendrils of hopefulness, how his fingers nervously anticipated her contemplated answer. Rationality, which she was utterly bereft of at that very moment, would have told her to say no; give a wide berth from that shit show. But a piece of her yet girlish tempt to discover that new Tommy who was opening himself in front of her eyes, something he had never done before, would be forcing its way to make things work.

At least, try to put them back in their rough maquette.

Y/N sighed, before bestowing him with a coy smile. “I guess, I can find some time.”

Through fucking thick and thin.

XOXOXOXOX

A/N: my dear sweet sweet anon. hi! i’m fine, thank you. foremost, let me just express my utter self-deprecation, seeing as you have sent that request a long time ago and i’m posting it just now. the work load has plunged on me since the beginning of September and I literally dropped my face off the earth for a couple of weeks. but i hope you understand.

the fic wasn’t entirely as i planned that out because a) it was supposed to be shorter, b) because I'm still lacking some twists that would have made the work even longer. so I reluctantly abstained.

ofc, I always love hearing and talking to y’all, so chat with me, request, ask me the most embarrassing questions in the comment section. whatever. and may i remind you - spooktober?! are we going to do something about that!? (a small hint: yes, we are going to either hold a little event or be graced - somehow - with another chapter of my WIPs). Lovvvvveveeee y’all xoxo

#Tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #Tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinder #lizzie!!!#grr.... i never liked that... woman #plus me trying to refrain myself from using too many expletives which i did anyway #lol

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Hurt

Summary: Teddy gets hurt and the brothers are not having it.

A/N: Anon requested: Hi love!!! I was wondering, can you maybe write something with Teddy getting hurt, like her getting beaten maybe and the brothers just exploding in anger over it?? Thank you so much if you do write it! Xxxxx I usually write a lot of fluffy fics for Teddy, except for the Teddy series maybe, so this was very different to write, but I liked it! Gave me a chance to explore a different side of Teddy as well. This takes place before the series starts, in 1918, when the Shelby’s are still building their empire and racketeering business. Teddy’s nine. Hope you like this 😊

Words: 2772

*****

She wasn’t supposed to be there. All her life, Teddy had found her way around the rules, bending them ever so slightly to accommodate her or ignoring them all together. She often knew in advance she’d probably get into trouble when she did, but it was a risk she’d take. However small she was, she then decided it would be worth it. But not this time.

They’d just been playing around the Garrison and some of the other pubs. The kids often hung around there, trying to earn a little bit of money by doing some chores.

One of the girls behind the bar had called outside, “Two of you! I need you to carry these buckets down to the water.”

Teddy had jumped up, eager to prove herself. The man who owned the pub, a rough sort of fellow by the name of Amos, had given the two kids the bucket. But as he did, he suddenly squinted at Teddy.

“You’re a lass, aren’t you,” he’d snarled then, watching her up and down. Teddy was wearing Finn’s clothes, but if you looked closely, she had the fine features of a girl and no mistake. He’d continued, “Get out of the way, you, let one of the boys do it.”

“No!” Teddy had protested angrily, “I can do it! I can do everything a boy can do too!” But he’d tried to take the bucket from her roughly, which caused Teddy to resist and jerk it, not willing to give up so easily. The bucket had fallen and the contents had spilled all over the floor.

Fury had burned in the landlord’s eyes and forcibly, he’d grasped Teddy’s hair and dragged her into the back room, shouting out for everyone to hear, “You want to pretend you’re a boy? You want to lose me money? I’ll treat you like a boy who’s just lost me money!”

Finn had still been outside, but he’d heard the commotion well enough. Quickly, he’d realised his sister was in trouble, but he couldn’t get to her. On the other side of the door, he’d been able to hear her screaming as the cruel man beat her to make some kind of point, but there was nothing he could do but pound his fists on the door and wait. Eventually, Teddy was pushed back out.

“I’ll kill him,” Finn had said with all the venom a ten-year-old can muster, when he’d taken one look at his sister’s face. This wasn’t some regular beating, because they were both not unfamiliar with that, but he’d taken it a lot further. And Finn had spat again, “I’ll tell Arthur and he’ll kill him.”

Uncharacteristically, Teddy hadn’t said a word. She’d taken Finn’s hand and practically sprinted out of the pub. Only when they’d put enough distance between them and the man, Teddy had whispered urgently, “You can’t tell them.”

“Teddy,” Finn had started, looking at her face and seeing she was clearly in a lot of pain.

“Promise me,” she’d urged, “Please, Finn. Tommy told me I wasn’t allowed to go near the pubs, so if you tell him, he’ll beat me too. Don’t tell them.”

He hadn’t liked any of this, but, as always, his little sister had been adamant. So begrudgingly, Finn had agreed.

****

“Where’s Teddy?” Aunt Polly asked Finn, as she tried to gather up the family to have a meal together.

Finn looked away and lied, “She said she wasn’t hungry. She went up to bed.”

Polly frowned, “I haven’t seen her come in.”

“She went straight up.”

Tommy and Polly shared a look and his aunt ordered him, “Go up and check on her.”

He nodded, but Finn protested a little too fervently, “No! She said she didn’t feel well. Just... leave her.”

“What’s going on.” Aunt Polly demanded.

“I’ll check on her,” the youngest Shelby brother offered quickly, “I’ll make sure she’s alright.” A few minutes later he came back with the message that all was well and Teddy just wanted to sleep for now, but both Thomas and Polly weren’t buying it.

The next morning, Teddy still didn’t show herself for breakfast. Polly had started to get more irritated than worried, and asked her nephew, “Thomas, did she get up with you?” Teddy often joined him at five in the morning.

“Teddy? She’s with Finn, isn’t she?” he smoked a cigarette and drank his tea.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “I swear to God, if she’s gotten herself into trouble again...”

Tommy looked up and after a few moments of thinking, he bellowed, “FINN! Get in here!”

A very sleepy boy appeared.

“What’s happened with your sister,” he interrogated his younger brother, “and don’t try and lie to me.” His eyes were cold and strict, but Finn didn’t want to break the promise he’d made to Teddy. So instead he shrugged.

Tommy looked at Polly and she confirmed, “He’s lying, covering up for her.” They always could see right through the kids.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me again, or I’ll make sure you regret it,” he huffed as he pointed at Finn, “Last chance: what did Teddy do this time. You tell me now or you’ll feel the back of my hand.”

Finn bit his lip and asked, “If I tell you, what will you do to her?”

“Did she disobey me?”

“Yes,” he said in a small voice, “but that’s not...”

Icily, Tommy cut him off, “I’ll teach her what happens when you disobey me. Same goes for you.”

Angrily, Finn suddenly stomped one foot down onto the floor and shouted out, “This is why she didn’t want me to tell, you know! She didn’t want to get a beating, again!”

Tommy held up a hand, nostrils flaring with anger now, “If you two won’t fucking behave, you’re going to get beaten. That’s how it is, alright? Now, I know you didn’t agree with me punishing her last week after the fucking pony incident, but...”

“Not you, him!” Finn interrupted his brother, “He already beat her and she doesn’t want you or Aunt Polly to know because then you’ll do it too!”

“Wait,” Polly stopped Tommy who was about to open his mouth, “Who are you talking about, who beat Teddy?”

“The man from the pub!” Finn almost started to cry out of sheer frustration, “And it was really bad, but Teddy didn’t want you to know and made me promise, because she didn’t want you to get mad at her again!”

“Oh fuck, Thomas...”

Tommy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “How was I supposed to know...”

“You never listen to us!” Finn exploded in a manner that was usually more Teddy’s style, “You just want us to behave and obey you, but you never listen. And you weren’t even here and now you’re back and all you do is yell at us. Why did you even come back if you don't like us?”

For a moment, it looked like Tommy was about to burst out into anger as well, but he changed his mind after looking at his aunt. So, to Finn he said, “Alright, I’m listening. Tell me what happened, eh? You won’t get into trouble.” And when he saw his sceptical little face, he added, “Nor will Teddy.”

So Finn told them the whole thing. Polly listened and when he’d finished, she walked up the stairs to kids’ bedroom without saying a word. Tommy stayed behind in the kitchen with Finn, but he didn’t speak either. Rage filled him at the thought of someone else laying a hand on Teddy. It was his job to do the disciplining, no one else’s. That’s why he came back from France, that’s why he dug the tunnels in order to survive; to take care of his family and to do his duty as the older brother.

But when Polly came back down with Teddy on her hip, he quickly realised that this had gone far beyond disciplining a cheeky kid. The little girl’s face was covered in bruises and even part of her neck was starting to turn an ugly colour. Polly pushed a bit of hair behind her niece’s ear and noticed the dried up blood next to her eye. In shock, she breathed, “Jesus Christ... what did he do to you?”

“Rings,” Teddy whimpered, “He wore rings.”

As Polly examined the rest of her bruised face, Tommy was frozen to the spot. Carefully, she put her down and when Teddy winced, she looked at her back. Polly lifted up her shirt a little and found the welts of a belt all across her back. A cold determination came into her voice, “Thomas, get John and Arthur.”

Tommy walked off and without many words of explanation, came back with his brothers. Both were shocked at the sight of Teddy, demanded to know what had happened, but Polly was the one giving the orders now, “Tommy, I want you to find the animal that did this to her and fucking end him. Not too quickly either, you make it last. John, you burn his fucking pub down to the ground. And Arthur, you’re the oldest; make sure everyone knows what happens when you fuck with the Shelby’s. And that if anyone touches her again, Polly Gray will personally bring hell down upon them. Go.”

Arthur and John left at once. Seeing Teddy like this had hurt them beyond belief, but they didn’t have the words to make it better. They did, however, know of some actions to make it right. This is what they knew: an eye for an eye, but then you take the hands, the ears and the nose as well, just to be sure. Because as soon as you let them take even an inch, they would try and take everything and you’d end up back in the mud. And if they’d let that happen, the word would spread and the fear would diminish. So, the brothers set out to send a message written in blood: this is what happens when you touch one of ours.

Tommy lingered just a little bit longer in the kitchen. He looked at Teddy, but she didn’t meet his eye. Then he said, “He won’t hurt you again.” And with that he turned away and stalked off.

Teddy sighed deeply and let herself be picked up by her Aunt Polly again. Carefully, she asked, “Is Tommy mad at me? For going there?”

“No, darling,” Polly put her down on the kitchen table and started preparing some herbs to easy Teddy’s pain, “He’s going to see about that man.”

“But where is he going? Why did he look mad? What’s he going to do?”

Polly sighed, “Teddy, you’re a Shelby. What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know...” she shrugged.

“It means your brother has gone out to kill a man,” her aunt decided to no longer mince her words, “because he hurt you. Now, in this family, we do bad things. We fight people, we do illegal business and we rob and kill. But we have rules. And one of those rules is: you don’t touch an innocent.”

“Like Teddy.” Finn added at once.

“Like Teddy. Now, it’s important the two of you understand, because people are going to tell you we are bad people. That we, Shelby’s, are rotten and scum. But the truth is, we have found a way to even the playing field, together. You might not understand now, but you will. This world isn’t fair, it’s filled with coppers and bullies, but we as a family have to stick together. That’s the second rule: we protect each other as a family. Because together, we can win. Just like in the war. When they hurt one of us, they hurt all of us, and we take care of it. That’s what they’re doing now, do you understand?”

Aunt Polly tried to explain and Teddy furrowed her brows trying to understand. Finally she said, “So, we’re the good guys?”

Polly sighed, because it wasn’t easy to explain this to a little girl. Especially after the war, none of it was still black and white. “Your brother, he’s not a good man, Teddy. But he is the best one. And the bad men out there will do far worse if we don’t respond with their language. Make them be afraid for a change. Let them be in the mud. It’s not about being good or bad, it’s about surviving and sticking to your own people. Tommy understands that.”

She didn’t really understand, but Finn, being an older brother himself, did, “Tommy takes care of us.”

But Teddy still didn’t understand.

***** That night, she was laying in bed. Polly’s potions and remedies had helped a little with the pain, but it still hurt. But that wasn’t the real reason she couldn’t sleep. The real reason was far more complicated.

Sighing, Teddy dragged herself out of bed. Carefully trying to avoid any painful parts, she climbed out her window and, hovering above the ground, she moved onto the other windowsill, where she could easily climb up onto the roof. All at once, she was up.

Tommy watched as a shadow crept across his window. He was laying in bed, but smiled as his youngest sister climbed on by. Then he followed her. Up on the roof, Teddy sat hunched over and let her head rest on her arms. Tommy approached her from behind and said in a low voice, “And what do you think you’re doing?”

Teddy nearly jumped out of her skin, but Tommy quickly grabbed her by the shirt to stop her from falling off the roof. He flashed her a smile, but she mumbled, “You scared me.”

He lit a cigarette, “I was only joking, no need to be afraid, eh?”

“Well, I am,” Teddy replied, almost sulkily.

Tommy looked at his sister for a moment and asked, “What’s the matter? We took care of the man that hurt you, eh? And no one else will dare to touch you again, not now they know.” Teddy nodded and then shrugged, “Aunt Pol explained. You make them afraid and that way they can’t hurt us.” “That’s right.” “There’s just one problem, Tommy,” she continued. “What?”

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, that seemed to be black in the night, “It works on me too.” He sucked in a breath, “I scare you, too?”

“Yes. Not always, but ever since France, you sometimes get so mad. You’re not... you. Like when me and Finn don’t listen... Aunt Polly is strict too, but she’s not scary.” “Fuck...” Teddy looked at Tommy for a second and then added, “But Aunt Polly said we have to stick together as a family, but...” “...but you can’t do that if you’re scared of me,” Tommy finished for her “Fuck, okay, listen to me, Teddy. How long have we been back from France now?”

“A few weeks?” Teddy guessed. “Yeah,” he nodded, “A few weeks. But sometimes, it’s like I’ve never left at all. Like we never came home. France is still...in here,” he pointed at his head, “And I know that’s hard for you to understand, but...I wanted to make something of this family and I wanted us all to be safe, so that we wouldn’t have to fight another fucking war.”

"Oh,” Teddy sounded so small. War meant very little to her, except of dead men and dead brothers and absent fathers and crying mothers. It was over now, or so they’d told her, but it wasn’t really.

“I wanted to keep you safe. And Finn. Even when you did stupid things...” he tried explaining again, “But you don’t have to be scared of me. I won’t hurt you. Not anymore, not like that. I may sometimes get angry, my head, it’s fucked, Teddy... But not like that man did to you. People like him, I’ll hurt them for hurting you, alright?”

“Alright,” but Teddy frowned again, “Aunt Polly says you’re not a good man, is that true, Tommy?”

“It’s true,” he cleared his throat, “I’m not a good man, Teddy.”

She was quiet for a long time, as she grew more and more comfortable in her brother’s presence yet again. Because the truth was, they all had to learn to get used to each other. For years, the boys had been gone and when they’d come back, it had only been for a little while. Polly had raised them and now Tommy had sort of taken over again, and it all felt very strange and unfamiliar. But sitting with Tommy on top of that roof, this did feel familiar. Then she asked him, carefully, “Can’t you try, Tommy?”

He smiled down at Teddy and hugged her closer to his side. He thought of France and all the horrors they’d faced there. He remember how they’d come back, changed men, and how it felt like they’d died in the mud too. He’d been so determined to make something of the Shelby business, if only he could build and empire, then he could keep everyone safe. But none of it mattered, if it meant his little sister was afraid of him. He thought of his father and realised: what kind of man are you, if you scare children into silence? He didn’t want to be like that. He knew he was harder now, lost in a way, but he never wanted to be like that. And he looked at the one person who still had faith in him to be a good person.

Solemnly, he promised, “I’ll try.”

*****

Masterlist

#teddy shelby #shelby sister #sister shelby #shelby sis #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fandom #peaky #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinder #polly gray #polly shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby

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onyondump · 3 months

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My wife

#arthur shelby #peaky blinders #i had to clean his hair so I don't lose my mind #I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRAW FOLDS AHHHHH #drawing #babygirl #nicr waist man #peaky blinder #digital art #shading #i wanna dress like them #peaky blinders fanart

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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

Summary: Weeks passed since Arthur's first encounter with the woman of his life. From that day, you meet every night and part only when the morning comes. When Linda starts to suspect it, she decides it's time to remind him who is in charge. The thing is, Arthur cannot take it anymore and just want to be with you.

Words: 4k

TW: Angst, toxic relationship, narcissistic personality disorder, mention of witch hunt and death, implicit divorce, soulmates finding each other for good but hint of dependent relationship

Notes:

✞ Even though Linda tends to be a disliked character, this story does not want to demonize her but rather offers an reading of the character based on my interpretation and research on narcissistic personality disorder.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PART ONE || NEXT PART

When Arthur came back home at dawn, he could still feel the tingling sensation your gentle and cold fingers had left on his skin. His body collapsed on the sofa, repulsed by the simple idea of sleeping in the marital bed beside his controlling wife, for he was smitten with the divine creature he had met earlier.

He wanted her.

Only her.

And he wanted her so bad that it physically hurt.

The way she had touched him — like no other women did — had lit a blazing fire within.

His whole being was burning with an unquenchable desire he was not really sure how to hold back. But more than a carnal appetite, it was his whole soul that was yearning for her. A feverish sigh escaped from his lips as his mind replayed each of their interactions again and again, like an old broken record: She had washed the blood from his face without the slightest wince nor hint of disgust. As the white cloth she used had turned entirely red, she looked at him with a soft gleam in her eyes, then laid a blessed kiss on his forehead. He remembered grabbing her wrists before she let go of his face and begging her not to leave. The look she had given him, full of divine mercy, almost brought tears back to his eyes. The Angel finally allowed him to rest his head on her lap.

His memory blurred from this moment. All he could remember was how gently her hand stroke his hair. He had dozed off, lulled by her fresh spring-like perfume and by the way her nails grazed the shaved parts of his head.

Little he knew that what was supposed to be a fortunate and ephemeral miracle soon turned into an addiction — maybe the healthiest addiction he ever had. He eagerly waited for the night to come because he knew that, at the end of the day, she would wrap her arms around his neck and make every one of his problems fade away. This was how they had started to reunite each night, hidden from the world’s sight.

Moon after moon, he would listen to her sing, her voice echoing through the church’s walls as it did the night fate had led him to her. Sometimes they would stay inside the church, talking until the sun rose and the birds chipped. Some other nights they would go for a walk, holding hands and finding comfort in each other’s presence. But ultimately, they would always end up laying in her bed, their fully-clothed bodies pressed together and their fingers intertwined, with the firm will of never parting. And it was at the exact moment when the heat pooling under their skin became unbearable that their lips would brush against each other’s, shaky breaths melting together as they fervently waited for the other to break the small but oh-so-excruciating distance that was separating them.

But he never did — for he feared hurting her.

And she never dared — Afraid she would curse him.

“You came home late. Again,” Linda stated. Noticing the calm but devastating anger in her voice, Arthur opened his eyes and focused on the wall that was facing him.

“Told ya. Had to take a walk.” When she remained silent for more than a few terribly long seconds, his gaze shifted from the invisible spot he was staring at to look at her winter iris. Invisible knives stabbed him as she gave him the cold-eyes stare she used to do whenever he didn’t do what she wanted or what she had expected him to do.

“Arthur. I already told you that working in the dark is —“

“For the Devil,” He finished off her sentence, “working in the dark is for the Devil. I know.” Arthur growled, too tired to suffer another Christian lecturing. As he swallowed, his calloused hand rubbed his throat as if it was looking for the invisible leash she had put around his neck. An invisible leash that had started to suffocate him after Tommy’s wedding.

“You know, I am trying to save you. But how come each night you leave the house and manage to sabotage each of my attempts to make God forgive you?” Her voice remained quiet, but each word she spat was coated with venom. Her personal dog was slipping through her fingers, disobeying her orders, and she could not stand it.

“Save me eh. “ Arthur repeated, his lips stretching in a crooked smile tainted with indescribable sorrow. There was a time he truly believed her — a time he thought Linda would see past the beast he was and treat him right, but she only trapped him in a loveless marriage. When she was not boring him with her endless religious sermons and metaphors, she would value herself by demeaning him.

By all means, Linda Shelby was a fierce woman who tended to give herself a superior appearance to others and felt an overwhelming need to be both admired and praised. Especially if it was at someone’s else expense.

He could have ripped her throat with his bare teeth, of course. He, Shelby’s unhinged mad dog. But Arthur wanted so desperately to be loved that he had never dared to bite.

“Yes, save you. But I’m starting to think all my efforts are useless. I helped you get off drugs. I brought you to church each Sunday despite ruining my reputation dating a Shelby and this is how you thank me? I am —“ She paused, only to step closer “ Deeply disappointed in you.” The expression on her face would have broken Arthur’s heart if she had not used the same trick countless times before. It was just a part of her strategy.

“Come on, Linda! Say it!” He snapped and jumped from the chair, facing her, “Say I’m not worthy of saving eh. Ye always say that kind of fookin’ things to me. One day I’m a poor misguided sheep, the other I am a shit not even worth stepping on. This ain’t goin’ to save me. Yer messing with me brain!” He hit the left side of his head with his palm as he said so.

Linda blinked, surprised by her husband’s audacity to bark at her.

“How… Dare you?” She whispered , feeling her self-control starting to break down. Despite the anger slowly building within, Linda was smart. Far too smart for lashing out on Arthur by yelling at him — For her, relationships were like a chess game. All she had to do was moving the right pawns to get people to do what she wanted, “Don’t you realize that I am the only one who will ever want you?”

Was it the sound of broken glass or a shattering heart? Arthur could not tell, for her murderous words had struck him with the violence of a guillotine’s blade on a prisoner’s neck. He took a few steps back, bewildered by what he had just heard.

“Yes, you heard me right. When I found you in London you were fucking with these Eden Club’s whores because no one wanted you. You either scared women, or repelled them, and don’t be dumb enough to think it has changed.”

At this point of the conversation, his head started to get so dizzy he had to hold onto the chair’s backrest, “Don’t— Say — that.” He gritted through his teeth, nails digging into the varnished wood.

Closing his eyes, Arthur thought about you in an attempt not to burst into a destructive rage, but his heart only ached more at the possibility of you being afraid of or disgusted by him. What if she was right? What if you, God’s most beautiful Angel, would grow tired of him? After all, you were a young and pure soul. And he was an old and sick bastard.

What could he give you, except a miserable life in Small Heath and the negative influence it has upon people?

Linda sneaked behind Arthur with a wild cat’s grace and put one of her delicate hands on his chest. The unwanted physical contact snatched him from his thoughts. He reopened his steel blue eyes, shining with both anger and pain. A part of him — the self-depreciating one — wanted to fall on his knees and beg her for forgiveness, knowing far too well that placing his hopes in you was a vain thing to do. No one would ever want him, she said. Let alone you, Heaven, the most beautiful and holy creature he had ever seen.

“So now,” the tone she was using had turned from venom into sugar again “You will first apologize to me and, then, promise me to stop leaving at night no matter the reason behind those nocturnal getaways. I don’t care if it’s for family business or for a young slut. You’ll stay here and be a good husband, will you?”

And that was how she always won arguments without raising her voice once. Pushing the right buttons and using a punishment/reward method with Arthur was efficient enough to keep him under her thumb. Now, she knew he was going to feel awful for yelling at her and he would seek for her tenderness, afraid she would leave him. Maybe he would cry, maybe not, but as long as he remained obedient it did not really matter. That was what usually happened. Or at least, that was how it would have happened before you and he met, for he could afford to lose Linda but not his angel. In fact, he would rather rot in hell than give up on you.

“Go choke on yer apologies, Linda. Ya don’t seem to realize that I’m already saved, and ya had nothing to do with it ”

When, with eyes wide open and trembling hands on her mouth, Linda Shelby realized she had lost for the first time in her life, the door slammed so violently it felt the whole house was shaking, within an inch of collapsing on her head.

If there was one thing you missed from your home town it certainly was the mountain forests of your childhood. There was a comforting feeling in walking through the green vastness of the woods, birds' whistles and streams’ whispers for only companions. When you first came to Birmingham, you felt like suffocating: the noise, the smell, the swarming people… You had trouble handling it for weeks. The truth was, you cried yourself to sleep almost every night, wishing to wake up in your beloved French Alps. But, deep inside, you knew that coming back to Haute Falaise would be a death sentence.

Even though the bedroom you rented from Lucy, the lovely widow who managed the place, was located near a mock forest, it was nothing compared to the mighty splendor of the mountains’ landscape. Still, you understood that crying would not resolve your problems so you did what you did the best: raising your head and taking the blows… And here you still were.

You had just finished brushing the horse’s mane when Lucy came, arms crossed on her generous bosom.

“There’s a man waiting for you at the door.”

“A man?” Your brows furrowed for you expected no one. Making friends had never been an easy task for you, even more considering they were all scared of you and your white hair.

“Tall, all limbs, cold blue eyes, and a mustache.” Lucy stared at you, waiting for your answer to know if she should welcome the visitor or if she could chase him with her broom — the landlady was not a very social woman. Even though you remained silent, the surprised and shy expression that appeared on your juvenile face gave her an answer, “ Alright… But if you plan to fuck, I’d ask you to clean the bedsheet yourself.” She added.

You would have died from shame right on the spot if Arthur’s presence did not occupied your thoughts. Heart racing in your chest, you walked to the door but the tall blonde woman, whose face remained placid as always, grabbed your arm as you went past her.

“Heaven. He’s a Peaky Blinders.”

“I know Lucy.”

“And this one is the most dangerous.”

The frozen blizzard of her eyes warmed when she stared at you, silently begging you to be careful around this kind of men, especially when they bore the name of Arthur Shelby. She, along with all of Birmingham, was aware of his violent nature and did not want him to put you in a vulnerable position.

“Well. My mother used to call me dangerous too.”

“Hm.”

She let go of your arm when her sharp senses noticed love coursing through your veins. Lucy sighed…

It was already too late.

As soon as Arthur saw you running to him, your long ivory mane dancing in the wind and your aquamarine eyes shining with excitement, the weight of his dark thoughts magically lightened. His morose mood vanished, swept by the way your hypnotizing body swung at each step. It was the first time someone looked at him the way you did, genuinely radiating with joy at his simple presence many dreaded. In many ways, he was used to glimmers of fear and hatred or, at best, pity, in the eyes of those staring at him, but not that deep and sincere affection you always blessed him with. His lips stretched in an enamored smirk, his mustache slightly lifting as he did.

“What are you doing here? Are you okay?” You asked.

Words choked in his throat, for the way the pale sunlight reflected on your delicate porcelain skin clouded his mind with confusing and intense urges. His strong, calloused hands grasped your hips with hast, almost bruising you in the process. Yet, you wrapped his neck with your arms far from being repelled by the firmness of his possessive grip. Quite the contrary, his overwhelming need of owning you made you feel safe.

“Arthur?” You called him again softly, but he remained silent, mesmerized by your beauty he never had the chance to observe by day. A light, hoarse chuckle escaped from his mouth.

“I can’t help but wonder where your wings are each time I see you, love.” His smile widened when he noticed the adorable pink shade that had just appeared on your cheeks.

“Don’t try to change the conversation, what are you doing here?” Fire burnt within as his hands tightened their grip even more, and his thumb started to caress your hip in circular movements.

“Couldn’t wait for tonight. And to be true, I can’t fookin’ wait at all. My body and heart yearn for ya. It’s like a slow acting poison running through my veins, infecting me brain. And it feels good only when I’m with you.”

Boom. Boom. Your heartbeat echoed in your whole rib cage, its pace so brutal that you were pretty sure it was about to burst your chest open. Moisturing your lips with the shy tip of your tongue, you did your best to muzzle your emotions.

“I missed you too. You know… I feel like I come back to life when the moon rises.” Mission failed, your heart spoke far too quick than your rational mind, even though your voice was merely a whisper — In spite of all your love, the man was not yours and he will never be.

At your words, Arthur let out a long relieved exhale and leaned over you, burying his nose in your neck. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation of his mustache tickling your sensitive skin. Usually, he would rub it in your neck to make you laugh but today he was not in the mood to torture you. All he wanted was to keep you in his arm and never let you go. His ardent breath, fanning over you, made you realize how close his mouth was, and this sole thought almost drove you crazy. You ran your small hand through his hair and brought him closer— but it was never enough. No matter how close you were, there was always too much space, too much clothes, too much of everything between you and him.

Arthur closed his eyes and drown in your perfume, whose floral and green fragrances reminded him the smell of Lily-of-the-valley. And even if he had never dare to use his lips on you yet, he started kissing your collar bone for he could not resist anymore.

“Fuck—“ You breathed and bit your lower lip, trapping it between your teeth while you tried not to give in to the fuzzy sensation that was numbing your whole being.

His mouth kept conquering your skin, tingling kisses trailing up your neck first, then your jaw, and your cheek. With one skilled movement, his hips crashed against yours and hugged your forms with a tailored perfection — He was convinced God created you for him and nothing could change his mind. One of his powerful hands left your hips only to catch your chin and raised your face for you to look at him. You felt overwhelmed and intoxicated, surges of electricity running through your body as the Celeste blue of your eyes dug into the steel blue of his.

“Arthur— No. You’re married.” The words that had just escaped your mouth left a bitter taste on your tongue. Your face turned to the side, denying him access to your lips.

“Is that the problem, love?” Arthur was still staring at your lips, forehead pressed against your head. Strands of hair were falling in front of his face, now darkened with a shade of anger. He was not mad at you, far from it, but your anxiety about his marriage reminded him of the foul things Linda had said to him a few hours ago. He swallowed, gathering all his strength to keep his calm even though you had already met that monstrous part of him the night you had cleaned the blood off his face. Somehow, Arthur knew you accepted him as he was — contrary to Linda who wanted to change him — but his protective nature told him to spare you from his tantrums.

“It is indeed one of the two problems that keep me from kissing you, Shelby. You know the nature of my feelings for you, dear, but if I resisted the temptation of your lips for months it’s not to give in now. I don’t want to be the other woman.”

Arthur backed off, jaw clenched. Then, he raised his left hand to display the golden ring he had never taken off since his wedding day. “So it’s that damn thing that bothers ya,” He paused, only to look at you and your otherworldly beauty. Sometimes he had still trouble realizing you were real, “lemme tell you something… It ain’t a wedding ring. It’s a fookin’ noose and I don’t want it anymore.” At these words, he took it off and threw it as far as he could with one powerful movement. The ring, whose golden surface reflected the pale sun rays, flew away and ended in the small stream nearby. As soon as it touched the water, the stream's flow carried it away.

You looked at him, speechless and bewildered by what he just did.

“Fook Linda, and fook my vows. I don’t want ya to be the other woman, I want ya to be me woman.” The gravel in his voice sent a shiver through your spine. He looked at you, arms open, silently asking what else he had to do for you to belong to him.

Admittedly, Linda had been one impediment to your relationship with Arthur, but it was out of respect rather than anything else. What really terrified you though, was the consequences of your love upon the man.

“You don’t understand Arthur,” This time tears flooded your vision, for if Linda was a resolvable problem, the other obstacle was engraved in your flesh, “They say I’m cursed.”

His long arms fell down along his body, not quite comprehending what you meant by "cursed". The tall gangster remained petrified for what seemed to be an eternity, his mind proceeding with this information. You had always been mute about your past — all he knew was that you came from France and people thought you were some kind of witch. But as superstitious as he was, he would not let stupid rumors ruin you. You were everything he needed, everything he prayed for, cursed or not. And at this point, he was just saddened by the distorted image you had of yourself. How he would have loved to lend you his eyes so that you see yourself through his lights. This is why he broke the distance you had set between you and him and pressed his warm and rough hand gently against your cheek.

“You ain’t cursed. Who told you that?”

“Father Hughes.”

“He’s a cunt. And even if he’s right, you can be their curse, but it doesn’t mean yer not me blessing eh.”

“But — “ The sun reflected on your crystal tears, making them shine as if melted diamond streams were overflowing from your heavenly eyes. What people had always said about you was still somewhere behind your brain, hanging onto it with their claws dug deeply into your synapses. They kept you awake at night, along with the villagers’ chants, the menacing pyre, and the stones cast at you.

“You’ll die if you stay by my side.” You muttered between heartbreaking sobs, whose ache would make stones weep.

“You don’t seem to understand, love. I’ll die if I don’t.” He spoke all the while lovingly pressing his forehead against yours, pulling you into a tender embrace — It was at that very moment you discovered that his tenderness had the power of chasing your sorrows away.

Silence fell down on the two lovebirds, whose silhouettes embellished Lucy’s garden. Arthur’s lips brushed against yours, still unsure if you wanted it or not. Yet, the way your mouth slightly parted left no doubt of your consent. He leaned over you to break the distance but, as he did, you gently backed up but only to tease him this time. He growled, his hoarse voice making your soul vibrate.

“Kiss me, eh.” He complained, with a low tone.

Your lips still grazed his, gently, ghostly, like an angel’s feather. Arthur inhaled your breath and the feverish sigh that followed made you flicker like a candle flame. That was only when the wait became unbearable, almost physically painful, that your mouths collapsed, like rogue waves crashing against the shore’s stones. As you were finally giving in to your desire, a firework of sensations exploded within and eluded everything that surrounded you.

He smelt like whiskey and musky aftershave, but he tasted like honey and sadness.

Among all the drugs he had taken, all the alcohol he had consumed, and the women he had known, the sensation of your tongue lightly touching his with an adorable shyness was so ecstatic that it rendered his past vices bland and empty. The world melted under your feet. Arthur embraced you tighter, feeling the need to be pressed against every inch of your body he could rob from you and jail them in this timeless moment. Your lips slightly shifted to the side so you could catch your breath, but he kept kissing the edge of your mouth, hungry for more and more. He did not want to let you go for the life of his. No matter if he had to suffocate in the process.

“I love you, Heaven.” He mumbled between kisses.

It was all it took — along with the pleasant caress of his mustache on your face — to convince you to give up on breathing too and devour his lips a second time, fiercely. As you pulled him in a second kiss, Arthur’s hand left your cheek only for him to run his long fingers through your magnificent hair, whose ivory color suited you so well. To be true, he really fancied that unusual physical trait of yours; given how he always played with some of your long white strands. Your tongues danced one last time together and as they did, his demons found a cure in yours.

Arthur pulled away reluctantly, knowing he had to let you go. He had a meeting at the Garrison with his brothers to talk about the Russians. You laid a soft kiss on his chin, waiting for him to break your embrace.

But he never did — for he feared losing you.

And you never dared — Afraid he would shatter without your touch.

Any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom. I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven.

Ask if you wanna be tagged in future Peaky Blinders Works.

Peaky Blinders Requests are open.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

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