#Arthur Shelby imagine

[look-at-the-soul]

My refuge

Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)

Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt Thank you for sharing this incredible idea around, I decided to give it a try, but I highly encourage any other writer who wants to join in because the way I approach it. Might be completely different…

I think this idea was the perfect match to celebrate K @runnning-outof-time 3K followers celebration! 🌹🌷💐🌺🌼Congratulations dear K, I adored your Tales from the Garden theme and had this visual idea of the garden…

“Daddy? I brought some tea.”

Tommy looked towards the door, where you were standing poking only your head inside his office, his heart still skipped a beat every time he heard you call him that.

“You can come in sweetheart.” He stamped his cigarette in the ashtray.

Michael sighed loudly as you interrupted their conversation, his annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

“Frances helped me bake cookies, I hope you like it.” Y/N smile made Tommy smile as well, how could he reject you something? If his only daughter wanted him to eat a cookie, he’d eat a fucking cookie.

“Thank you love.”

Michael scoffed again, watching the interaction.

“Will you be busy for the rest of the afternoon?” You asked sweetly as your father took another sip of his tea.

“Why?”

“Because you promised we’d go riding.”

Tommy’s expression softened.

He stood up immediately, looking in Michael’s direction. “We’ll see this tomorrow.”

“What? No, Tommy I need y-”

“Michael.” Tommy warned giving his cousin a death stare, he wouldn’t repeat himself.

Turning his back at him, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket, and started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

Michael looked annoyed at you and then at Tommy, he felt a strong dislike for the long lost daughter that suddenly appeared, making his cousin a soft, ridiculous, old man.

Michael grabbed the papers from Tommy’s desk and stormed out of the office without a word.

“He’s always angry.” You stated with a giggle, making your father chuckle.

“Let’s go my darling.” He took the remaining of his tea in one big gulp and then the cookies you baked to eat on the walk to the stables.

It was impossible to not feel calmer around you, Tommy noticed. Realizing how full of life he felt, how much he wanted to protect you.

On their way to the stables, you stopped to smell one of the bushes with pink roses. Your Dad, who was usually in a hurry, stopped on his tracks to take in the moment, wishing he could be more like you. But deep down he knew he wasn’t made to enjoy simple moments like those.

“I love your garden, I could spend all day sitting here surrounded by this beauty.”

Tommy felt constantly in awe by the things that made you smile, his mind trying to storage every moment, every word, trying to make up for the time he lost.

He stayed quiet as the two of you were riding, thinking of how much you and the woman he once loved looked alike.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with Michael?” You asked worried. “Sorry, I thought you were free.”

“What? No, none of that, you’re my priority from now on.”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

Tommy was forced to look up at you, fighting against the lump in his throat. “You look exactly like your mother.”

Without even knowing, you had started a revolution within him, made him go back in time when he was young and carefree.

“How did you and Mum meet?” The question had been on your mind for a while, you looked in his direction with curiosity, not understanding the reason why everyone looked at your father with fear in their eyes, he was the sweetest man on earth.

Tommy took his time to think of how to elaborate a proper answer.

“I saw her at an Appleby fair, she was dancing with other girls… she was like a magnet, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” For an instant, he was back in time into that very moment.

“What happened then?” Your face lit up, moved to have this little piece of information, for years, you only knew your mum’s side of the story, now, it was time to get both.

“She asked me out to dance with her, then it started to rain heavily and the fair was canceled, we went to my caravan and I’ve never been happier,” Tommy stopped and winked at his daughter, “until you stood in my front door.”

“She always talked about you, until her very last breath.”

“I wish I could prevent her parents taking you both away from me… but when I went to France and sent her letter with no answer, eventually, I stopped writing.” A heavy sigh abandoned his body as he stopped by a tree.

In more ways than he thought, talking about your mother helped him heal a part of his heart that had been broken for a little over two decades.

You came down from the horse and saw how your father secured both next to a tree.

A tender hand came to rest to the side of your face. “I’m just so glad you found me.”

There was a bittersweet look in his eyes, you noticed.

“I made quite an entrance, fighting off the maid, telling her, no I demanded a word with you.”

Small lines appeared around his eyes. “Like the good Shelby that you’re.”

“You never doubted for a second?”

But your Dad was already shaking his head. “No way, I knew it was you in that very moment.” He admitted, in his mind images of that day playing in his mind.

He was running late that morning and as commotion was happening downstairs, he rushed with a gun ready. Even from afar, as he took in your features, he knew it was you.

“But I confirmed it when I saw the broken Black Madonna around your neck.”

You looked at him confused.

“Back then I didn’t own anything,” he explained bending one knee, “so one day I found this broken Madonna relic, it was missing the hook to attach it to the chain, so the owner of the stand gave it to me for free, I tried to fix it and gave it to your mum for one of her birthdays.”

“That’s beautiful.” You touched it, feeling your heart beat under your hand.

Saving these memories in the deepest part of your soul.

You talked for hours, Tommy had never felt more free to speak his mind, his fears , his dreams, he realized his daughter understood him at a level nobody else did. You were his blood, and the exact same image of your mother.

***

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” Tommy walked into his office not realizing the door didn’t close completely.

“Finally after canceling this bloody meeting so many times.” Michael sighed as Tommy entered the office.

“I like your enthusiasm Michael, hopefully you will still carry that around by the end, ey?”

Leaning back, Michael tilted his head, he was clearly annoyed with the delay.

“Hopefully someone won’t interrupt us this time around over a fucking cup of tea or to go and pick up wild flowers to make a crown.”

The cigarette Tommy was about to light didn’t reach his lips, as he stopped midway.

“What didya say?” Tommy squinted his eyes.

“I said I’m fucking tired of your daughter interrupting us every single time-”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N Shelby.” Tommy dragged his words slowly, leaning his palms on his desk staring deeply into his cousin’s eyes.

“I don’t know you anymore, since when you push everything to the side Tommy? This business demands your full attention an-”

“Since she showed up in my doorstep!” Tommy slammed the desk with his hand, his voice raising. “After being away from me for twenty years, it really shouldn’t be a surprise she has become my priority now.”

“Michael.” Polly tried to warn him.

But Tommy raised his hand, to let him speak.

“I just can’t stand how you immediately turn into a fucking puppy as soon as she walks into any room, her little happy bubble is fucking annoying, this is a serious business and we don’t need a child with a bouncy bow interrupting everyone fucking meeting.”

Tommy remained quiet for a few seconds, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Are you done, Michael?”

“I mean if you want to take some time apart from the company to spend time to work on your family bond.”

As you took the last step of the staircase, you noticed the voices coming from your father’s office, it was probably your family as you noticed Polly’s voice.

Walking closer to join them and before you could reach the knob, you heard something that stopped you on your tracks.

John couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing.

“You definitely look like a fucking puppy, you can’t deny it… as soon as you see Y/N you turn into a fucking marionette, she does whatever she wants with you.���

“She turned you into a softy, brother.” The voice of your uncle Arthur pointed.

“Sometimes I wonder what the hell is she doing in a place like this.” Michael stated in a serious tone. “She doesn’t match the Shelby energy. What if someone comes at her? Does she even know how to use a fucking gun?”

Your heart sank to the floor, listening to what they thought of you.

Then it was your aunt Ada’s voice what you heard next. “She’s just a happy girl.”

“Ada knew how to use one at her age.” Polly admitted, you saw her over the slightly open door looking into her purse.

“Little Finn knew how to shoot before he was eight.” Arthur informed them.

“She’s a weakness, Tommy,” Michael insisted, “her happy bubble will lead us all into trouble someday.”

And for the first time, you felt anger building inside your body.

“Even Charlie seems to be more keen to be part of the business.”

With an unknown courage, you pushed the heavy door and stared at each of them. Shock reflected on their faces.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I’m sorry for being in my little, weak bubble, but you’re probably right… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t be a fucking Shelby.”

You didn’t waste another second to listen their answer, you turned your back at them and stormed out of the office, rushing towards the doors.

“Y/N wait!”

“Shit, how long has she been listening behind the door?” Ada asked.

“Did she really curse?” John asked shocked.

“I hope you’re fucking happy now, look at what you caused.” Tommy spat at Michael, leaving his family to go after his daughter.

But he wasn’t fast enough to go after you, when he reached the fountain, your small figure had already disappeared from his eyesight.

Looking down, he found the ribbon you always wore around your hair on the floor, about to fly away with the wind. Crounching down, he took it between his fingers, kicking himself internally at the thought of you feeling hurt.

“Get me the horse!” He barked, realizing how he wouldn’t be able to reach you by car.

You felt the way your heart was beating, uncontrollably while the tears blurred your vision. Realizing how silly you felt by thinking that you had found your place.

Being a Shelby by name wasn’t enough for them, no, you had to cut people’s eyes and be ruthless and clearly, you weren’t like that.

And you’d never be.

Your legs were burning from running, after moving aimlessly you sank down, finally letting out a sob from the deepest part of your soul.

You felt broken inside, sad because no matter what, you would never be a part of their world, you didn’t understand the family business, didn’t feel familiar with weapons, you were weak according to them.

Perhaps Michael was right after all.

Back at the house Polly scolded her son for the words he said, should mind his own business and stay away from you.

“You have to change that bloody attitude, Y/N is one sweet little child, she lost her mother.”

“She’s not a child and Charlie lost his as well and he doesn’t go trying to get Tommy’s attention all the fucking time.”

“It’s a different dynamic Michael, you can’t expect them to behave the same.” Ada interrupted him.

“Y/N and Tommy have a special bond.” Polly admitted sipping on her tea. “You can see it in his eyes… Y/N’s mother was the love of his life.”

“I don’t remember her much.” Ada expressed pouring herself some whiskey.

“I didn’t even know he had a secret relationship with her.” Arthur sighed.

“They were young and in love.” Polly explained, she had covered her nephew a couple of times from his father for not being around, lied saying she asked him to run some errands. “She was a good girl, but I never saw her again. Guess her parents moved out angry when they realized she was pregnant.”

“I can’t find her.” Tommy announced with his breath caught up in his throat and a panic look in his eyes. “Arthur, John come with me. Ada take the car around,” he clicked his fingers. “Want every single maid looking for Y/N.”

Then, he threw his cousin a death stare. “If anything happens to me daughter… you’re a death man.”

Tommy couldn’t conceive the idea of you being out on your own at night, he needed to protect you.

In his heart he made a promise to your mother the day you showed up in his house with the letter she wrote him, explaining everything; how her parents sent her away to live with an aunt in the mountains when they found out she was pregnant, they let her keep you but under the condition of being raised as a sister and not daughter.

And he was failing.

Defeated, he rode back home, trying think a plan to find you. Where would you go?

He felt desperate and frustrated, about to explode from the worry, after returning to the property finally he stopped to let someone take his horse to drink some water after spending hours looking out for you. Taking his watch from the pocket in his vest he noticed it was close to sunset now and it would get cold.

If only he could tell you how much you meant to him.

They looked for you at the stables and around Arrow House, but you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy started to feel like a lion inside a fucking cage, he needed to calm down to think where would you go, looking to his right, his eyes fixed on a bush and that gave him the hint to go and look at the garden.

Feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Tommy was determined to find you so he entered the maze. He followed the herbaceous border and took a right to find the fountain, walking past the yew buttresses. Wiping the sweat from his chin, he noticed a silhouette sitting by the steps of the gazebo.

And he couldn’t feel more joy in his chest, recognizing immediately it was you.

“Y/N.” He whispered out of breath.

You were pale and didn’t answer him.

Once more, he called your name, finally getting close enough to touch you. “Wake up baby girl.”

“Daddy?” You blinked away a few times, taking in your surroundings.

“You’re so cold.” He took his coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders.

The previous events slowly coming back into your memory. You probably fell asleep after crying endlessly.

“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to the Shelby name.”

“Oh my darling you could never disappoint me.” He rocked your body slightly, trying to warm you up with his hands. “You have more heart than anyone in that house.”

“I dreamed of Mum… she gave me a hug and a kiss and said it would all be alright, because I’ve you.”

Tommy wasn’t able to answer as the words got caught up in his throat, so he did something he rarely did.

His arms wrapped around your back and he pushed you in a tight hug.

One that was repairing him from the inside out. One that was repairing his broken heart.

“I know my girl, cause she will always be with us.” He kissed your hair and looked up in the starry night thinking of your mother and how much he had loved her. “Let’s get you home.”

From afar, Polly witnessed the interaction knowing nothing in this world would ever tear you and Tommy apart.

“But they don’t think I belong here.”

“You belong here way more than any of them, this is your house and this is your family and they’ll have to learn to accept the fact that you’re the light of my eyes.”

And your eyes lit up by your fathers words, tears of happiness making your vision go blurry.

“I ordered the gardener to create this for you, it’s not finished yet though… I wanted you to feel in this place at home.”

Slowly, you broke away the embrace to look at your father, with a tender touch, he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“This is for you.” He encouraged with a smile. “It was a surprise I was saving for later.”

Taking in your surroundings, you couldn’t believe the beautiful oasis before your eyes. You haven’t noticed before.

“Daddy!” Your hands flew to your mouth. “That’s white daffodils.”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh don’t expect me to know that.”

“These are peonies!” You were delighted. “And irises.”

Tommy saw you moving around the garden, enjoying the peace you being happy in this place brought him.

Taking you by the shoulders, he made you turn around to face the gazebo.

“I particularly love that… imagined you sitting there for hours.”

You were lost in the colors and smell, but soon you turned around to look at your father.

“Thank you for giving me this.” Your arms found their way around his body, time stood still.

“I was hoping this would be your refuge.” Tommy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Can we join the hug?” Ada interrupted, making you both turn around.

“I’m sorry about what Michael said,” your aunt Pol apologized, “I do enjoy your cheerful energy.”

“It’s a balm to this fucking family madness.” Ada explained.

They each linked their arms around you tenderly.

“You’re a sweet child and I love you.” Arthur blushed but joined the hug as well, behind him, uncle John looked at you.

“When you came into our lives, I knew it was you the one who could make him line up.” John winked at you.

“Come on you two, don’t stay back there.” Ada shouted at Finn and Charlie, who were standing awkwardly a few steps away.

“You’re the sweetest young girl, we love you just like that, Y/N it doesn’t matter what anyone tells you, don’t let this cruel world change you an ounce.” Polly said caressing your face.

And you believed her, them.

She then looked at her nephew.

“You did a wonderful job with this place, Tommy.”

He didn’t need something like this though, since he felt like having you close, was his own kind of refuge. His safe haven.

***

Master list

A/N: Oops this got a bit long 🤭 but there were so many things I needed to add, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

[kaivenom]

How the Peaky Blinders' boys dance with you

Masterlist

(All of the dances mentioned are real popular dances from the 20's, there are videos from youtube with original records if you want to check how they are)

Tommy Shelby

He doesn't ussually dance, he prefers to see you dancing and be on the corner of the room, just observing totally stunned.

The only time when he dances with you is when he needs to move around the place without raising suspicions or when you insist on it and later make him feel bad about leaving you on the dance floor.

His favourite thing to dance with you and probably the only thing is Fox-trot.

He always demands the band to change to jazz so you both could dance to the smooth and graceful rythm.

He dances slow and always looking everyone, checking that nobody does anything stupid while he is enjoying time with his partner, so everytime you need to remind him to look at you.

You can almost confirm he likes the music by the way his body swings next to yours, his fingers conecting with yours while his other hand travel firmly to your back.

John Shelby

He is a natural party person, he likes to be around and drink with everyone, but mostly he likes to dance.

And what better partner to dance that his partner itself, he always drags you to the dance floor for hours.

With all that energy and craziness his perfect dance for you both is Charleston, obviously.

The movements he does are the perfect definition of the dance, exuberant and wild.

You sometimes have trouble keeping his pace but it's always fun... and exhausting.

When he sense you are starting to feel tired, he goes to get a drink or accompanies you to take some air.

But don't be fooled, he probably drags you to the dance floor again later, at least he tries to dance things more slow.

You probably need another day without the kids to recover from the dance night.

Arthur Shelby

He is not good at dancing, he doesn't have sense of rythm so you both can't dance anything classified.

So, you go to simple dances like the Shimmy, with that you reassure him that he won't fool himself in front of other, which means a lot to him.

So, the Shimmy became your safe choice and make him want to go with you to dance.

When he tries new dance moves, everyone thinks that he is making new charleston move or that he is is drunk, usually the second one.

But at the end maybe it's not all dancing but it's surely very funny.

Michael Gray

He likes to make a show, he likes to show you off to everyone who has eyes.

Making it sensual and provocative is his passion so Tango is a must everytime you go out.

His body pressing against yours, his hands traveling to places very innapropiate to the society.

He always tells you to show your attributes to the him, which means the room, and that means to do move your legs and entangle it around him.

He also uses the dancing to assert dominance towards you and some times make you desire him.

Finn Shelby

He isn't very good at dancing but obviously not as bad as his older brother.

When the charleston stopped being trendy, he discovered the Black Bottom, just a little before everyone does.

So, when he starts dancing it in the pubs you were amazed, it was the perfect dance to hide his disorganized moves, but you were incredible stunned by it and rapidly asked him to show you.

In a couple of night out you both were the star couple of dancing but the dance was still new and nobody else did it.

A couple of months later and the Black Bottom was a trend, not thanks to both of you but now you don't need to ask for the music ... cause it's already playing whan you enter the pub.

It's funny and stimulating, probably because of both of you being really clumsy while moving.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.”  Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips. 

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.”  Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.  

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face… 

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband.  “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

 “I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.” 

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.  

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

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

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

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

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

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

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

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

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

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

[brummiereader]

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not (ONE SHOT/ DARK!TOMMY & YANDERE! ARTHUR)

Summary: Enter the mad paranoia of Tommy and his brother Arthur as they try to prove to themselves that you and Bunny's loyalty belongs with them after their discovery of your planned escape.

Warnings: Language, violence, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, psychological mind games, psychological manipulation, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, Dark!Tommy & Yandere!Arthur (This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors Note: This story is a merge of two worlds, Dark!Tommy & Y/N from "Killing Me Softly" and Yandere!Arthur & Bunny from "Hey Bunny", written by my incredibly talented friend and mutual @call-sign-shark. I can't recommend enough to go and check out her fantastic series!

" Look at 'em Tom" Arthur said quietly to his brother as he turned his back to you and Bunny from across the room sitting at the large mahogany table next to eachother. " They think we don't know what they're up to" he grinned darkly as his younger brother smirked in agreement, watching you pull up the strap of your emerald dress. Little did you know yours and Bunny's plan to escape the shackles of torment the two Shelby brothers had been relentlessly inflicting on you both would soon be eclipsed by another plan, one the siblings had concocted a fortnight ago after finding out your intentions to flee. "Why would they do that ay, scheming behind our backs like that? Don't they fucking love us? " Arthur said through gritted teeth, his mood quickly changing from anticipation of playing out their sadistic game to a temper rapidly rising within him. Volatile, unhinged and quick to snap. If Tommy wanted the night to go as planned he needed to calm his brothers erratic emotions and keep control of the situation.

" Here" Tommy said pulling out a small blue bottle of cocaine from his suit pocket which Arthur snatched out of his hand like a starved animal, snorting its contents within a few seconds. " After tonight we'll... Ey! Arthur, Listen!" Tommy said tapping the side of his brothers cheek in attempts to hold his attention as Arthur wiped the remnants of the white powder from his nose. " After tonight we'll know. We'll no where their loyalties stand" Tommy said with his hand firmly placed on his older brothers shoulder as Arthur nodded his head glancing over at Bunny.

"I can't lose my Bunny Tommy" Arthur said, his eyes wide, his body suddenly jittery with panic as he looked back to his brother.

" Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled under his breath. Clearly the sweet release of his brothers preferred drug of choice hadn't warranted the affect he had hoped for or at least, not yet. " Arthur will you calm the fuck down, you're starting to creep me out" he replied cocking a brow as he returned to looking at you. His eyes roaming over your body as he bit his bottom lip imagining you naked as he pinned you...

" Tom, Tom..." Arthur said nudging his brothers arm with his elbow, breaking him out of his fantasy or rather, the plans he had for you at the end of the evening.

"She nearly escaped a few weeks ago" Arthur said quietly as he looked over to Bunny staring aimlessly into her glass, watching the amber liquid glisten from the warm light of the chandeliers as the soft music from the gramophone played out.

" And I told you. You gotta double lock. They're sneaky Arthur, they'll try and find a way out" Tommy replied as Arthur's eyes cast down to the wooden floorboards, mentally scolding himself for forgetting his brothers wise words of wisdom. After all, Tommy had become an expert in this field of debauchery. "Chin up, ey?"

" Yeh Tom, yeh..." Arthur replied as he pinched his bottom lip together, sniffing back his worries. " Right, fuck" he said clapping his hands together shaking of the last remnants of his wandering paranoia.

" That's it brother. Come on, let's have some fun" he said patting his back as they strode over to you both, the evenings festivities minutes away from starting. "Bunny" Tommy said with a smirk etched on his face as Arthur stood beside him, biting his inner cheek as he tried to hold back his excited amusement. " Sweetheart" he said sending you a wink as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes glazing over with a smoky hue of lust as he got lost in his thoughts once again. "You two have been busy, haven't you?" Tommy said as he lit a cigarette looking between you both as Arthur wagged his index finger back and forth.

"Con..cocting something" Arthur added, his jaw tightening at the mere thought of deception as Bunny's hand squeezed yours under the table, her pulse beating so fast you could feel it vibrating against your skin.

"Arthur" Tommy said nodding to his brother who reached under the table, pulling out both of your suitcases. " Tut tut tut, going on a holiday without us, huh ladies?" Tommy said with a smirk glaring at you as your eyes widened in disbelief. You had both been so careful, so diligent in your plans. It was a miracle you managed to get as far as you had with the few times Arthur had brought Bunny over to Arrow house. "Your clothes, the children's clothes. Did you not pack anything of mine for this little getaway?" Tommy said as Arthur slammed the suitcases onto the table in front of you, pouring out both of their contents.

" Yeh, didn't see my swimming trunks in there Bunny" Arthur spat as he stared her down, the vein in his neck protruding from his escalating fury.

" A..Arthur, I...I" Bunny sobbed, stumbling her words out as Arthur loomed over the table, his fists clenched so tight they turned a ghostly shade of white. He was keeping her safe, keeping her from the dangers this city held for every woman that dared to venture out alone, why didn't she see that? Who knows what crazed person she could have run into, it's a good thing he was there to stop her from making that mistake. Arthur thought to himself as he stood up straight, rolling his shoulders of the tension that had been building up.

" Now you've both been very naughty. And we don't like naughty girls do we brother?" Tommy said picking up one of your lace knickers from within the pile by the end of his finger, cocking a brow as he put it in his suit jacket.

" No we don't. We like respectable, honest, loyal...obedient girls" Arthur said sniffing back the remnants of the cocaine he had snorted.

"That's right. You see, me and Arthur are starting to feel like your loyalty doesn't belong with, like you don't... love us"

" We feel betrayed, unappreciated"

" Those are strong word's brother. But betrayed and used we are, and after everything we have done for you" Tommy said furrowing his brow, an expression of hurt spread across his face, believable if it wasn't for the smirk playing mischievously on the corner of his mouth. "So, seeing how you two like to play games we have each come up with a way you can prove your loyalty to us and put our poor tired minds at ease. Right Arthur..."

" Tommy... darling, wait..." You panicked, tears welling in your eyes as Bunny quietly whimpered beside you, her hand now gripping yours even tighter.

" Not now sweetheart. The games about to start" Tommy said as he stood up from the edge of the table. "Arthur, if you don't mind" he said taking a drag of his cigarette as he leaned against the back of the sofa behind him.

" Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..." Arthur started to sing as his finger moved from you to Bunny. "Catch a spider by.."

" Tiger Arthur, it's fucking tiger" Tommy sighed, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" Same bloody thing" Arthur replied snapping his head back to his brother about to finish the rhyme when Tommy interjected again.

"Tell me eh, when was the last time you saw a spider with toes Arthur?" Tommy huffed as he and Arthur started get into an argument over the words to the nursery rhyme whilst bunny squeezed your hand, her eyes darting to the door then back to you to which you furiously shook your head at. There was no way you would both make it out, no matter how intense their ridiculous argument was getting. Whatever punishment was heading your way would be far worse if you tired to take your chances and make a run for it. " Alright! Alright! Just get on with it" Tommy said giving up, as Arthur's face lit up with a satisfied grin.

" It's toe, if it wiggles..." He said stopping his finger at bunny, wagging his finger from side to side with a unhinged grin on his face. " I'm gonna come over there and make you wiggle" Arthur giggled climbing over the table to Bunny when Tommy kicked the bottom of his boot.

" Arthur, behave " Tommy chuckled, they were enjoying this, their twisted little game no doubt the highlight of their week.

"Let it go, eeny, meeny, miny, moe" Arthur finished his finger pointing at you." You're up Y/N" Arthur announced as Tommy stood up grinning from ear to ear. " Y/N get up" Arthur said with his arms on his hips huffing as he looked back to Tommy. He wanted his turn and you were holding up the nights festivities with your reluctance to move. " She ain't budging Tom"

" Tommy please I'm sorry. I got scared, we got scared we panicked. Tommy our children..." You said tears streaming down your face as your eyes darted from Bunny to your husband .

" It's true Arthur, we just..." Bunny started to say as she swallowed back her tears.

" See this is the kind of shit you shouldn't fool for. Crocodile tears that's all that is. Arthur, please..." Tommy said cutting Bunny off as he motioned to the table, which Arthur flipped over in one quick motion.

" Aw would you look at that Tom. They're holding hands" Arthur pointed out to his brother at you and Bunny still clinging onto eachother for dear life, a film of sweat the only thing separating you.

" Adorable" Tommy said as he blew a cloud of smoke through the smirk on the corner of his mouth.

" Sister in law's supporting eachother, it's gonna make me cry." Arthur taunted as Bunny's eyes snapped to him, her face suddenly going a deathly shade of white at the thought of being shackled to this crazed man for life. " Yehh that's right Bunny, gonna make a Shelby out of you one day. Put a Shelby in that belly too. Maybe we'll skip the wedding part first, ay? He grinned as his tongue pressed on the roof of his mouth, his rabid eyes roaming over her body.

" Come on Arthur your scaring her" Tommy chuckled darkly as he flicked the ash of the end of his cigarette onto the floor.

"Yeh well, you're already on your third I gotta catch up" Arthur replied in annoyance that his baby brother was ahead of him in anything.

"What can I say I have strong swimmers" Tommy smirked winking to you. The only reason why Tommy was now a father of three was he never gave your body a moment's rest before he would climb on top of you again and have his way after each birth of your children, you were a laying hen, not a wife. "Come on darling, up you get" Tommy said walking over to you as he grabbed you by your arm, pulling you away from Bunny whose hand was still desperately holding onto yours, both of you now crying uncontrollably, every sob every whimper laced in terror. Breaking you apart, Arthur grabbed hold of Bunny as she scrambled forward to you.

" Now now Bunny, we have to take turns " Arthur said as his hand came down to her waist his fingers lacing between the soft fabric of her white flowing dress, one he had brought especially for her. She looked so innocent so pure. But Why was she crying, tonight was supposed to be fun? He thought to himself as he tried to catch her eye, her refusal to do so twisting his stomach into a knot of anger that he quickly digested before he lost his temper and spoiled the evenings games. "Come on Bunny" he said guiding her over to the sofa as you and Tommy were now sat opposite eachother at a small table in the corner of the room.

" Do you love me Y/N?" Tommy asked as he pulled a revolver from his holster.

"Of...of course..." You replied sniffing back your tears as he placed it on the table in front of you both, your eyes widening further as he pulled out one single bullet. You were used to Tommy's mind games, but they never involved lethal weapons like the one sitting in front of you. He had already warned you to never attempt to run again, and this time you had been so brazen about your plan you had made it clear with the contents of your suitcase you intended to take his children too.

" And do you trust me?" He asked sitting back as he spun the bullet on the table in a circle.

" Tommy... what's happening, what are you going to do? You replied, your voice shaking as you looked at the bullet spin around one last time, the curved edge now pointing at you.

" I'm the one asking question, now do you trust me?"

"Tommy..."

"Answer the fucking question Y/N!" Tommy snapped slamming his fist onto the table as Arthur giggled at his brothers outburst of anger. " You're making me angry love, and you know what happens when I get angry"

" I trust you Tommy" you quickly reassured him as Tommy glared at you, playing with the bullet between his fingers.

" Good" he said taking the gun, his hand hovering over the chamber as you closed your eyes, blinking the tears away from your blurry vision." We're going to play a little game" he said snapping it shut, spinning the cylinder before placing it back between you both. " Russian Roulette. Learnt it from some batshit crazy Russian years ago. Didn't want to play with her, but I do with you" Tommy smirked as he looked at the confusion on your face having never heard of the game." You won't have to worry your pretty little head with the rules. It's simple" he said, taking every opportunity he could to belittle you. " One bullet, 6 chambers. We take turns firing the gun..." he paused watching your eyes widen " Right here" he finished pointing to the side of his temple, when you abruptly stood up, pushing your chair back as Tommy reached over the table grabbing your arm.

" Tommy no, you're sick! You're fucking insane. I won't do this, I fucking won't!" You shouted to him trying to pull away from his vice-like grip circling your wrist.

" Yes love I know, I'm such a bad man" Tommy said sarcastically having heard you already insult him plenty of times before. " But you will play or else I'll send one of the girls away. And you'll never see them again. Do you understand me?"

" No! You can't do that, Tommy..." You pleaded as he pulled you down back into your chair. Three daughters, you had given him three beautiful girls in the short time you had been married, but that wasn't enough. Tommy wanted a son, an army of sons. And with his lack of a paternal bond with his daughters you knew he wasn't bluffing.

" I can and I will. It's not like we can't have another. He smirked, pushing the gun towards you. " Ladies first"

"Tommy .." you pleaded one last time as you looked at the gun in front of you.

" You're testing my patience sweetheart. If you really want to do this, then fine" Tommy said as he leaned back in his chair looking over his shoulder to the door." Frances, bring me the baby" Tommy called out his eyes darting back to see the fear rising within you as he waited for a response, waited for you to play along. Within seconds you picked up the gun, sobbing as tears streamed down your face. "Never mind" he called out as he nodded his head to the gun in your hand. Lifting the revolver to your temple you squeezed your eyes shut, the coolness from the metal pressing against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You would die for your children if it meant keeping them safe, if it meant keeping them from their father's torment. With your finger resting above the trigger you closed your eyes, hoping for a way out, from this life, from him. The gun pressed against your head didn't feel so damming after all...click. The chamber was empty, no bullet spent. You was still here, you was still alive. Gasping for air you threw the gun on the table which Tommy picked up, instantly putting it to his head and pulling the trigger without a second thought. Another click. No shot fired. The second turn mirrored the first. Through sobbing tears and thoughts of your children you pulled the trigger again, while Tommy's calm demeanor stayed exactly that, calm. Only two chambers left, one empty one with a bullet that would end either one of your lives.

" Tommy please, I love you, I trust you. We don't need to do this, we dont need to prove anything." You cried as Tommy took the gun putting it in your hand and placing it to your head.

" Pull it Y/N" Tommy said pushing your finger over the trigger.

" Tommy!" You wept uncontrollably, as a rush of fear overtook you, the sudden thought of your children being motherless the only thing holding you back from the years of torment you wanted to escape.

" Fucking pull it! he yelled at you as you wailed holding onto his arm, begging him to stop."Pull it!" He shouted again as you closed your eyes, the image of your daughter's playing within the grounds of Arrow House flashing before you...click. Dropping the gun on the table your hand flew to you mouth, you felt sick physically sick. But with no time to reflect on what had just happened Tommy had the gun already pointed to the side of his head...click. The gun was empty, it had been fucking empty all this time.

" See Tommy lad, she does trust you!" Arthur cheered as you abruptly stood up from your chair, your hands out behind you as you stumbled back away from Tommy's piercing stare, away from the smirk and enjoyment spread across his face.

"You tricked me! " you screamed as Tommy stood up and marched towards you, pinning you between the wall as his body.

" What, you think I want the mother of my children dead or fatherless? Oh darling, I never play by the rules, you should know that by now" he said as his hand cupped your cheek his eyes centimeters from yours. " I told you to trust me and you did, there's no doubt where your loyalty stands where your love stands" he said quietly in your ear, a slow exhale of hot air from his lips sending a wave of goosebumps down you neck.

" Look how your getting me" he smiled against your delicate flesh as he grabbed your hand cupping it around the growing bulge under his suit trousers, his aroused state throbbing under your hand as you turned your head away in disgust at his sadistic kink. " I'm gonna fuck you so hard tonight, I'll put a fourth in you. A fucking son." Tommy seethed in your ear whilst an untimely hint of a smirk graced your lips, unable to hold back the satisfaction that Tommy, the man who gets what he wants whenever he wants didn't have control over mother nature. You should have known better than to let it slip, for everything you did that displeased Tommy was worthy of punishment, and that small smirk hadn't gone unnoticed.

" Don't look Bunny" Arthur laughed with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. " My baby brothers pretty sick, he gets off from that kind of thing. Don't worry though sweetheart, I'm not like that" Arthur said with a smirk, his legs widening, pushing hers further to the edge of the sofa as he glared at her heaving chest.

"Your turn Arthur" Tommy said grabbing your hands, putting them behind your back as he walked you over to the sofa opposite them.

" Y/N..." Bunny cried wanting to reach out to you and she watched you slump into the sofa, the colour drained from your body. You were a broken woman. And as Tommy placed his arm around you, pulling you into his side, his lips ghosting over your neck, she suddenly felt like she was watching her own future. Beaten, broken and tired. Would this be her fate too?

" Bring in the contestants" Arthur jumped up as he walked over to the door snapping Bunny out of the haunting image of herself chained to a life of misery and abuse.

" Come on, fucking move" Arthur said behind the door as he walked in with two young men bound and gagged his gun pointing to their backs. "Kneel" Arthur spat, pushing the two men in front of Bunny as they struggled to keep themselves from falling over at her feet.

"Arthur, what's going on?" she said shifting forward in her seat, her eyes darting in a panic from Arthur to the two men in front of her as your own eyes widened in horror at the realisation of who they were. A chauffeur Tommy had hired only a few weeks ago, a sweet boy who's sole focus was the job in hand. And then...Harry. The stable boy who had been working on the grounds of Arrow House since he was a child. Both innocent young men, but not in the eyes of Arthur. For Arthur they had overstepped the line and he was seeking justice.

"Both of them were ogling you when we visited three weeks ago, so pick" he said matter of fact, without any further detail.

"Pick, what .."

" Pick one" Arthur replied handing her the gun as he sat beside her, his arm back securely draped over her shoulders as she watched the whimpers and cries of both the men, or rather boys hunched over eyes cast down. " So bunny, who's the lucky fella?" Arthur said turning to her staring blankly between both men. "Bunny?"

" Arthur no, nobody looked at me and even if they did I... I only have eyes for you I only want you. " Bunny pleaded knowing the very words he wanted to hear. Smiling, Arthur brushed his thumb down her cheek wiping the lone tear from her soft skin.

"Sorry darling but you're gonna have to pick. Both of these dirty fucks were looking at you, and I can't have that Bunny. But since I'm a forgiving man, a gentleman..." He said his moustache twitching at his high regard for himself. "...you only have to pick one" Arthur said as Bunny started to cry at the realisation she couldn't escape Arthur's sadistic game as much as you couldn't escape yours.

" Arthur, will you get your girl to fucking hurry up" Tommy said moving his lips from your neck for the briefest of seconds, his hand firmly grasped on your hip to stop you from moving.

"I know this is a big decision but you're making my brother upset Bunny " He said kicking the chauffeur, his muffled whimpers irritating him. "He wants to fuck his wife you see, and since we're guests in his house it's only polite we don't make him wait. Tick tock, tick tock" he smiled looking at the gun in her lap then back to her quivering bottom lip. " Fuck sake " he said standing up taking the gun from her realising her unwillingness to play along. Arthur was precariously on the edge of loosing his temper, his thirst for revenge was strong and he wouldn't end this game before one or both men were six feet under. " Which one bunny, the stable boy or the chauffeur" he smiled unnervingly as he pointed the gun at the back of each of the men's head.

"Arthur no! Stop, please..." Bunny pleaded endlessly, her strained efforts going unheard. You can't reason with a mad man, a man not only consumed by his own paranoia but also his obsession and love for the woman he had be holding captive.

" Pick bunny now! Arthur shouted putting the gun down on a small table beside him as he took a pair of black gloves from his back pocket as the muffled sobs of the two men intensified, the suffocating atmosphere in the room only increasing when Arthur picked up the gun again.

" Arthur we...we just greeted one another...it was innocent, don't make me do this dont do this, please..."

" Bunny I ain't repeating myself. Now pick!" He yelled as he pushed both his hands onto his forehead, pushing back the escalating fury within him, trying with all his might to not...snap. "Fucking pick, pick, pick!

"Arthur stop it, stop!" Bunny screamed closing her eyes when a loud gun shot boomed within the four walls and a heavy thud of a body hit the wooden floorboards below them. " Arthur..." Bunny said as she opened her eyes, her bottom lip wobbling in terror as she looked down in front of her to see the young chauffeur laying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.

" Picked for ya bunny" Arthur said his chest heaving up and down, hair disheveled, his eyes crazed as he smiled manically at her.

" Fucking hell Arthur, you got blood all over my walls!" Tommy said gesturing with his hand, more bothered about his immaculate home now splattered with blood than the dead body a few feet away from him.

" Sorry 'bout that brother" Arthur said smoothing his hair back away from his face as he looked down at his work, his grin turning into a satisfied smirk.

" Right we all done for tonight?" Tommy said standing up pulling you up with him, his hand snaking along your back down between your thighs as you squirmed under his touch.

" In the big guest room tonight yeh? With the big bed?" Arthur asked grabbing bunny by the arm pulling her trembling body over the lifeless man below her, dismissive of her horrified state, the tears cascading down her cheeks.

" Enjoy" Tommy winked nodding his head to his brother as he pushed you forward out the room. " Light a fire " Tommy said to one of his men standing by the entrance, gesturing back to the room where a night of carnage and terror had just played out, where Harry was still knelt beside the young man whose life had been so brutally taken. With Tommy's hand firmly on the curve of your back you slowly walked up the stairs, your body still trembling from the nights events.

" Arthur your Bunny's hoping away, keep control of it or put it back in its cage " Tommy said as you came to a stop in front of your room, watching Bunny frantically run down the corridor.

" It's alright, we're just playing" Arthur replied with a crazed giggle as he chased after her. Closing the master bedroom door behind him Tommy watched as you stumbled back to the edge of the bed a devilish grin gracing his lips as he stalked forward undoing his belt.

"Now about that smirk..."

[runnning-outof-time]

Hii! Can i pls request a arthur Shelby x wife!reader where the reader isn't involve in any of the business of Arthur and his family and during the vendetta the italians kidnap her to kill her as revenge but Arthur and his brothers come in time and Arthur comfort scared reader?

Hi anon! I hope you don’t mind the formatting of this - I’m trying something out in hopes that it’ll help me get these requests shared. It’s not quite a structured story, but it’s also not quite headcanons - it just kinda showcases the major plot points of the story along with some added supporting details … whatever it is, I wrote it! I hope you enjoy!

When The Day’s Done | Arthur Shelby x Reader

**gif credit: @/sparksetfire, who sadly deactivated**

Summary: Arthur meets a woman when he moves out into the country. She stays behind when he must return to Birmingham to fight the vendetta because they feel that it's safer for her to stay here. Their decision turns out to be the wrong one, and now Arthur must save her.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers, kidnapping

Word Count: 2777 (way longer than I expected)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Arthur met (Y/N) when he moved out to the country.

**Linda's not present in this story, but he'd still move out there after the events between seasons 3 and 4 finished. **

Ada - with the help of Polly - would have a big hand in prompting this move. They both know that Arthur could be better, and that what he surely needed was to be away from the smoke of Small Heath. And they were correct.

It didn't take long for them to meet.

(Y/N)'s house was the next one over - down the street that is - and she met Arthur when she opened her front door to find him one day.

Arthur had met her father prior. He already had an established farm, and that's something Arthur's hoping he could create for himself now that he's got this land. So (Y/N)'s father had told him to come over and that he'd show him around in hopes that some inspiration would strike Arthur.

(Y/N) still lives at home with her parents. She's got a job within their community - running the farmer's market that all of the local farmers bring their goods to (her father included) ... it's just easier for her to stay at home, and her parents are quite happy that she chooses to as she's an only child. They like to keep the family close.

So back to Arthur meeting her at the door. Knowing how Arthur is, I'm sure you could picture how he reacted when he came face fo face with this beautiful woman instead of the older man he'd met earlier in the week. Yeah, he suddenly doesn't know how to form a complete sentence.

(Y/N) finds it adorable. And she goes to get her father when Arthur finally manages to get out what it is that he's there for.

She makes sure to ask her father about him once he leaves, too. Like she pretty much plays twenty questions with him. Her father obliges and answers what she asks...and he's got that look in his eye too - like he has an inkling of an idea as to why she's asking all the questions. (Y/N)'s too oblivious to catch it.

The next place Arthur finds (Y/N) is at the farmer's market. He's getting some things that he needs and she, of course, checks him out (in more ways then one, if we're being honest).

He's actually able to strike up conversation with her this time around - asking her about the market and how long she'd been working there. And she happily shares answers with him. He ends the conversation with "well if it all goes right, you'll be selling my things here too."

To which (Y/N) responds with "if you're following my father's advice, you'll be growing things in no time."

She leaves him with a sweet smile and then kicks herself once he exits the market. Since when have I ever been so giddy over a man?, she thinks to herself.

Little does (Y/N) know that Ida, one of the older women in the community, watched the entire interaction with a knowing look...she can read these two like an open book.

And it just so happens that Ida's one of the women in the village that loves to gossip.

The first person in Arthur and (Y/N)'s circle that this gossip gets to is (Y/N)'s father...yeah, probably the worst person it could have reached. He overhears it when he's at one of his fellow farmer's home. The fellow farmer's wife decided to bring it up as a topic of conversation, surprising (Y/N)'s father.

He doesn't even wait to speak to Arthur about it. It's during one of the evenings where the two men are meeting, because Arthur's still getting a handle on the whole farming thing, that the older man decides to bring it up. He comes right out with it, too - "whatever your intentions with my daughter are, you'd better be an honest man about it."

Arthur's surprised, to say the least. But he doesn't deny the interest he has in (Y/N). He puts on a serious face and nods, saying "I will, sir." (Y/N)'s father nods in response.

So the next time Arthur sees (Y/N), which happens to be when she answers the door to find him on her family's front stoop - again, Arthur asks her to dinner.

And that's the start of a lovely relationship.

He's careful with who he tells. He wants to leave his life in Small Heath out of it for the most part. Sure, in some ways that's doing a disservice to (Y/N), but this new start has been good for Arthur.

He tells John and Ada, who are both incredibly happy for him. Finn just kind of finds out one day when he's visiting his eldest brother, and he's got nothing bad to say about it. He'd tell Tommy too...if Tommy wasn't so hard to reach. Polly is also hard to reach during this time, but he does mention it to her.

They're truly inseparable from the start. (Y/N) feels bashful at the fact that she practically lives at Arthur's home now, but Arthur repeatedly tells her that he's so incredibly happy that she's staying with him.

It's during these months that he's the happiest he's ever been. His little farm is flourishing (thanks to the help from the farmer's daughter and her knowledge), and he's sure that he's now with the love of his life.

The move that he was initially feeling uncertain about has turned out to be one of the best decisions he's ever made.

About three or four of these blissful months pass before Arthur's meeting with (Y/N)'s father again. This time, however, he's got a question that doesn't involve farming.

He wants to ask him for his daughter's hand in marriage.

He does everything in proper fashion too - sits down with him, professes how (Y/N) makes him feel and even shows the ring that he'd picked out a few weeks back.

(Y/N)'s father essentially has to agree to Arthur's questions twice because the latter doesn't hear him the first time. He's too busy going through the speech he'd prepared to take into account that her father could answer before he finished it.

And when he does hear his answer, he's immediately relieved.

He wastes no time in asking her. In fact, he does it that evening while they're enjoying some time out on the grounds of his property. Of course she says yes!

News of the engagement spreads like wildfire throughout the village. Some think it's way too early for that step, but others - particularly those who have known (Y/N) and her family for some time - think it's perfect.

(Y/N)'s so excited to plan their wedding, and Arthur's eager to allow her to have anything she wants as part of their big day.

She pours every ounce of herself into the planning and preparations over the next few months.

All of the excitement, however, comes to a screeching halt near Christmas of 1925, when a Black Hand comes in the mail.

To be clear, by this point Arthur's told (Y/N) about what sort of business he was involved in prior to moving out of Small Heath. He felt that if he was going to truly be with her, she deserved to know every part of him.

Sure (Y/N)'s not exactly enthused to learn of the types of things he'd done in the past, but anyone was easily able to see that he was making a good faith effort to separate and distance himself from every part of that lifestyle - besides keeping in touch with his family, of course.

When it's decided that the Shelby's would move back to Small Heath to face the vendetta head on, Arthur insists that (Y/N) stays back in the village. He hopes that the Italians don't know much more about his life there than the address of his home.

There's some hesitance from (Y/N), but she ultimately agrees and moves back with her parents as Arthur heads to Small Heath.

The distance is tough for the two of them. They've essentially gone from being each other's everything every day for the past year to not having any contact whatsoever.

And so while hell's happening in Small Heath, (Y/N)'s living a normal life back home. Things go on like this for some time too...until one day things change.

The - for lack of better terms - hit gets put out after Arthur kills the two men in the basement of the factory.

Two strange men were hanging around the farmer's market for the entirety of (Y/N)'s shift. She feels something uneasy about them, but tries to shake it off and focus on helping customers and whatnot.

They bring her to a stop on her walk home and force her to get into their car, driving off without a word.

(Y/N) decides to stay quiet and remains relatively calm. She doesn't know what these men want, and hopes that if she's compliant with them, they'll let her go.

Unfortunately things don't pan out that way.

The drive feels like it goes on forever, and it's dark by the time they make it to their destination. Because of this - and the fact that the men were forcibly dragging her to the doors - (Y/N)'s unable to catch any defining markers of where she now is.

She's dragged into a dark room, where the only piece of furniture is a wooden chair. Nothing is said as she's shoved into the chair and the men begin tying her to it. "What do you want from me?" she finally asks.

One of the men smirks, glancing at his counterpart before responding, "I'd get comfortable, sweetheart, you might be here awhile."

With that the two leave her tied to the chair, nodding to the man that she now notices is sitting by the door of the room.

A decent chunk of time passes - (Y/N)'s not sure how much because there's nothing that could tell her - before the door opens again.

A different man walks in this time. He's wearing a nicely tailored suit, a fedora, and as he comes to a stop in front of her, (Y/N) can see that he's chewing on the end of a matchstick. A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he gets a good look at her.

"Who are you?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You don't know me, sweetheart, but I know all about you," the man answers, "and your family."

This confuses her even more. "What do you mean?"

The man responds quickly, "Your husband killed my father. I want to know where he is."

"I don't...I don't know where he is," she says while trying to hide the fact that her heart is beating out of her chest.

The man just laughs at her statement. "See I don't believe that."

"It's true," she quickly responds, the desperation in her voice not helping her.

The man shakes his head, a wicked smirk forming as he looks her over. "Let me put this as simply as possible: you have twenty-four hours to give Arthur Shelby to me, or it'll be you who dies next. Understood?" (Y/N) doesn't answer. He gets really close to her as a look of annoyance spreads across his face. "I said: do you understand me?" The cologne he wears is almost too much for her to bear. Her face wrinkles together for a moment, hoping if she holds her breath, he'll just leave. But he doesn't.

So she opens her eyes and locks them onto his. "I do," she finally answers, her voice steady despite the fear that's coursing through her.

"Good," the man smirks, finally stepping away from her. "You'll tell him when you're ready," he states, motioning to the man who'd been watching her since she was placed in the room. "I'd do it sooner than later, sweetheart," he suggests, laughing to himself as he exits the room.

(Y/N)'s left with a startling decision now. She truly doesn't know what to do, or if there's even a way out of this.

Back home, people are talking. (Y/N)'s absence isn't hard to miss. At first it's thought that maybe she's gone out for the day, but worries skyrocket when she hasn't returned by the evening.

Her parents waste no time in contacting Arthur, even though it might not be the best move.

(Y/N) told them of the way she was instructed to get any urgent information to Small Heath - by calling the factory they owned and placing a message.

When Arthur receives this message the next time he's at the factory, he immediately knows something's wrong with her. There wouldn't be any other reason why (Y/N)'s parents would be the ones sending out the call.

They manage to send one of Aberama's men out to gain more details, and what information is brought back to Small Heath instantly makes Arthur's blood run cold. His fiancée was in danger. Everything else could wait...what needed to happen next was they needed to find where she was being held.

— ••• —

(Y/N) doesn't give any information to the man appointed to watch over her. She wasn't going to give her fiancé up. She holds onto hope that something'll happen before her time is up.

The man sitting by the door keeps a steady watch on her. (Y/N)'s surprised that he hasn't nodded off to sleep yet, as he hadn't been switched out for anyone else.

It all happens so suddenly. One moment, the man was turning his head to investigate a scraping noise that he heard just outside the doorway. The next, there's a man with what (Y/N) makes out to be shoulder-length hair peeking out from under a fedora pressing a gun to the seated man's temple.

The breath gets stuck in (Y/N)'s throat, but she doesn't panic.

"You speak and it'll be the last thing you ever do," the gun wielding man threatens the seated man. As expected, silence follows. "She's in here," the man then proclaims, making more footsteps sound in the corridor.

The voice that comes next has sobs of relief leaving (Y/N)'s mouth. "(Y/N)," Arthur calls as he rushes to where she's tied up. "(Y/N), love, I'm here."

"I...I didn't know what to...I didn't tell them anything," she stumbles over her words as Arthur works quickly on untying her from the chair. The second her hands are released, she falls into his arms.

"I've got you now. You're ok, you're safe," he whispers into her hair as she clings to him.

"What do I do with him, boss?" the man, who's still pressing a gun into one of her captors' temple, asks.

"Dispose of 'em," a second man responds. A slight struggle ensues, but (Y/N) doesn't move to see what happens. She stays put in Arthur's arms.

Time passes and the couple stays put. Arthur's thanking every god he knows of for keeping (Y/N) safe. (Y/N)'s still trying to get a hold of her emotions. Keeping them bottled up for this long while she was tied up is catching up with her.

"I didn't know if you'd come or not," she finally says some time later.

"I'll always come," he assures her, his voice gravelly as his emotions catch up with him. "When the day's done, I've got you, darlin'."

His comforting words made her finally lift her head from his chest. Her teary eyes found his and she couldn't help but smile. It felt like they'd been apart for years. Something quickly became apparent to her as she took in his appearance.

"Arthur..." she paused, letting out a mixture of a laugh and a sniffle, "your hair." What was all one length and longer was now shaved short on the sides but kept long on the top. She just had to reach out to feel it, wanting to confirm that it was actually real.

Arthur's brows furrow in confusion for a moment before he realizes what she's talking about. He can't help but chuckle as he feels her fingers run through his hair. "I cut it. Hope you don't mind, love."

"I don't," (Y/N) answers, shaking her head. "I love it."

Thank you for making it through…whatever this was. I appreicate you sticking with it. I’m not sure how many more fics I’ll write in this format but I will say that it really helped me get an idea I was originally struggling with out.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @ce1iat

@christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[disasterofastory]

Like a father (Arthur Shelby x Reader)

Like a father Arthur Shelby x sister!Reader Warnings: none

Summary: You have a favor to ask Arthur.

The church is quiet and cold. The bench under you is smooth as you press your palms against the wooden surface. Your nails dig into it absently. You don't even notice the motion. Your mind is busy with other things. The altar at the back is old and unkept but still pretty and good enough for next week. Nobody cares about the well-being of an old building in Birmingham, even if it's a church. People here have their own problems. The cross on the wall is tall and sturdy. Jesus looks down on you. Candles burn at his feet.

The door of the building opens and closes with a loud creak and a thud. Your head snaps back over your shoulder. Arthur's tall and lean form gets closer and closer with each step. His eyes seem grey in the dim lights. A few strands of his hair fall out of place as he takes off his cap to place it on his knee when he sits down next to you. "Finn told me you want to talk," he speaks up, breaking the silence. His voice echoes and vibrates. "Are you alright?" "Yeah," you reply. "I'm fine." "Then?" He asks, watching you closely. "You soon-to-be-husband? Do you want me to take care of him?" You can't help but laugh. "No," you smirk, putting your hand on Arthur's to squeeze it. His long fingers curl around yours. "He is still fine." "Good," he grunts. "I want to ask you something," you start with a deep breath. "And I hope you will say yes." The frown that is always on his face deepens. "What is it, Y/N?" "You know I don't even know our father," you tell your brother, who nods in answer. You met him only once when you were little. He was strange and scary. You know he tricked Arthur and made you detest him more. "And my wedding is getting closer." Arthur nods again. "And I want you to walk me down the aisle." The silence that follows your words seems loud. Your brother stares at you, mute and shocked. "Me?" He croaks. "You want me?" A light smile pulls on your lips. "Yes. If you accept it." "But why me?" He asks. "I thought you would ask Tommy to do it." "All of you did what you could to make up for father," you explain. You and Finn were only children when you found yourselves without parents. Polly and Ada did everything to fill the role of a mother even though it was none of their responsibility. And the boys, fucked up because of the war and driven by the need to provide for the family, tried to give you some fatherly figure while the real one was who-knows-where. Tommy was the one who always decided and took care of the things he found important. John was the funny one. He gave you sweets, bought you everything you wanted, and spoiled you rotten. But Arthur? Arthur was your safety net. "I'm grateful for everything the others did for Finn and me," you continue. "But I always thought you were the closest someone can call a father. You were the one who always stayed up when I couldn't sleep or when I was sick. You walked me to school on my first day. You gave me a lecture about boys even though I saw how uncomfortable you were." Arthur still blushes when he thinks back at the conversation. "I didn't want you to get hurt." "I know," you smile at him. Your free hand lands on his arm. "I know Tommy did things how he thought was best, and John did too, but you... You were... there, you know?" "I know," Arthur sniffs, making you choke on your own tears too. "Don't cry," you smile at him, cupping his cheek. His skin is warm under your touch. "So, will you do it? Will you give me away?" "Of course," he says, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. "Of course, I will do it. And if he ever dares to hurt you..." "I know," you nod, still smiling. "You will be there." "Always."

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Letters Unsung ~ Arthur Shelby x Fiancee!Reader

Summary: Since the very beginning of the First World War, Arthur’s Fiancee managed to get an unpaid job at UK’s radio station podcast so that she may daily speak a few encouraging words for the soldiers, and in turn, to her beloved Arthur Shelby.

“Must you really go, my darling?” Arthur heard the love of his life plead for him in such a sweet, mellow voice; If only he could, he would throw away his family, his country and everything to ever exist, just to find a safe place to hide with his darling Y/N. Alas, in a mondial war involving every country known to mankind, there was no place to hide. 

Fear and anxiety wasn’t a world in which he wanted Y/N to live in. She was too good for this dark, bleak world; Even as cannon fodder, if he could benefit the war and keep the country safe - Keep Y/N safe - he would gladly go.

“Mighty sorry, my love, but y’know better than I do that I gotta. Old enough to be in my damn prime - ‘Em muscles hadn’t built by ‘emselves, y’know? You always said I looked damn fine all naked - Well, Gov’s thinkin’ the same. Strong ‘nuff to carry a gun, strong ‘nuff to die for ‘em.” he rambled idly, lighting up a cigarette, puffing in the air, then squishing it in the ash tray. Y/N hated smoking. She always said she wouldn’t kiss him if his breath stank like tar. “Tommy ‘n’ John... They’re both so young. Can’t have ‘em go die without their old bro trying to protect ‘em.” he looked at his girl - She was trying so hard not to break down into sobs again. For the past days she’d been crying non-stop. She was unconsolable, and not even he could comfort her - Hell, he was terrified out of his mind, the thought of never seeing her again was killing him... “C’mon, doll, you’re too pretty to cry so much. Save ‘em tear for when i get back home, and you jump in my arms, and I twirl you around like the pretty angel you are.”

“B-But... Artie...” her words were stammered and hardly comprehensible; All she did was cuddle into his side and cry. If only she could water the plants with that wasted water, Polly said at some point, yet she was just as terrified for her children as Y/N was. John was barely 18, there was no way he’d make it through! “I can’t live without you. There is no life without you. I’ll die without you!” 

“Aww, darlin’...” she was so loving and genuine... What the hell was he supposed to do; He will be crying himself to sleep every night in the field, thinking that he left her all alone. “My sweet angel.” he held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her. “You’re my most precious treasure, Y/N. For you, I’ll do anything in my power to get back as fast as possible and wife you. We’ll have a pretty garden wedding - In Spring, with the pretty flowers - You always told me how you like ‘em pretty flowers. Heard there’s this place with a... A gazebo, next to this forest out of Birmingham; Ain’t no way Imma have you be a pretty bride in this grey shit hole of a city.”

“Promise you’ll come back to me?” Arthur gingerly took her hand and kissed her fingers.

“I promise on this ring that I gotchu that I’ll be back to keep my vows to you.”

The next morning, Y/N was robbed of a final goodbye, though it was more of a blessing in disguise than anything. Arthur spared her the despair she’d have had to endure, seeing him board that freaking train and leave the station, like lamb to the slaughter. By the time Y/N had woken up, Polly and Ada were around her. Polly had suggested the eldest Shelby brother that Y/N was too emotionally devastated and would be unable to go through that experience - Hence why she came up with the idea of placing a few sedatives in her sweet calming tea, which ensured a long and peaceful sleep.

Y/N was completely lost - Without Arthur, she had no idea what to do with her life; She couldn’t grieve and cry 24/7, that was unnatural, and her fiance wouldn’t want that of her, surely. She would have gladly enrolled as a nurse on the field, but not only did Arthur completely forbid her to do such a feat, she was also denied by the military - She was a certified doctress, she couldn’t be a combat doctor with no military training - Thus, she kept her work as a doctor in the Birmingham hospital.

Many months on end passed, and many more letters she sent, but received none. The radio was on, awaiting the war broadcast and praying that she wouldn’t hear the name of “Shelby” ever, until the war was over. Still, listening to the radio wasn’t enough. Anxiously awaiting for the police to come to her doorstep to tell her Arthur died, also, wasn’t good. Sure, she had Polly and Ada by her side, and she was always busy at work treating people, prepping for surgeries...

There had to be something she could do. Something that would benefit the people remaining in the country to defend the land... Something to sooth the soldiers facing the death door every second, awake and asleep.

And she had just the idea, the money, and the influence.

Y/N walked right through the doors of the radio station and explained to the chief her idea; Surely everyone knew how beneficial battlefield morale was for the troops - Hearing good words from home was sure to up their battle prowess tenfold. The old man himself had three sons send to France, of course he knew better than anyone how none of his wife’s letters reached them. Hell, he had no idea if either of them was still alive after four months out there.

And thus, the very first podcast was recorded, live, in the studio. Y/N’s voice was wavery and uncertain - She was awful at social interactions, hence why she clinged so much to Arthur and sought his comfort. Still, he was out there, bravely fighting to protect her - The least she could do was to speak a few words into a microphone.

“Good afternoon, brave soldiers. I am Y/N Shelby speaking, for the ‘Echoes of Hope’ broadcast.” what was she supposed to do now? The people were listening to her! “We have come up with this idea of creating a podcast to speak more directly to you - Only God knows if any of the thousands of letters sent have been received by you - So, a more direct approach had to be taken.” she took a deep breath to muster some strength. Think of Arthur and the soldiers. “I am speaking from the heart of Birmingham, sending warmth and courage across the airwaves, hoping it would reach at least one of you, brave men, fighting to protect your families and home.” she licked her lips, forcing herself to continue speaking. “Today, and tomorrow, and in every day that keeps us apart, as you brave the frontlines, know that we, back home, hold you in our thoughts and prayers.” a stray tear found itself caressing her soft cheek where one was held by Arthur’s rough hand. “And... To my beloved Artie... If you can hear me, know that each word I speak carries a piece of my heart. Stay strong, my love, for your strength is our beacon of hope in this colourless place.”

As she turned off the broadcast button, she took off the headset and stepped away from the microphone. The old man stepped in front of her and patted her hair, seeing the girl cry.

“Oh, I messed up big time! Forgive me, I completely ruined this thing... Oh, I am awful, awful at speaking to people! I-I thought that, without a person in front of me, it would be easier -- But I messed it up so badly!” the poor girl whined, though comforted by the man.

“I wouldn’t say you butchered it, love, I’d say the people out there fighting for our homeland just heard the voice of all of us, fighting our own battles yet staying strong to support and cheer on them also.” he patted her shoulders to straighten up. “Life is difficult with this poverty, yet we make meets end and figure things out so that we can welcome them back in a safe home that lack nothing. Lord knows, they will need all the comfort and support they can get, poor children... If only I wasn’t so old and a cripple, I would be out there to protect my boys.” the old man shed a tear. “Y/N, come back tomorrow at the same time and continue speaking to them. Only they know, your voice might just be their salvation.”

And thus became the routine of Y/N Shelby, every day in the evening after her hospital shift was over, she would pass by the radio station and begin speaking her heart out for the soldiers spread throughout Lord knows how many countries.

“Good evening once again to the brave men fighting for our home. It is Y/N Shelby again, and I bring you words of encouragement from the women of England.” this time, she was smiling; She looked at the old man next to her and felt enboldened to continue. “Each day we await your safe and hasteful return, and each night we whisper our hopes into the silence, hoping that our prays will protect you.” she really should write a script instead of free-styling it. “Arthur, my dearest, your courage inspires me. Remember, as you face the trials of war, that our love is your shield, and my voice is your guide back home. Please, never lose track of your path back into my arms.”

The old man smiled, moved by the girl’s words, and encouraged her to come the next day also; It was bound to create a routine for all the soldiers to listen to the prayers and words of courage and morale from the Angel of Birmingham.

“Hello, everyone - I assume you can recognise my voice by now.” she sounded much giddier than usual. “I am overjoyed to say that, after 11 months, I have finally received a letter from my beloved Artie!” she chimed, trying to keep composed. “He told me in the sweetest words how much he loves me - And how he wants us to have the prettiest wedding ever; In Spring, and filled with flowers, just how I love it.” she continued, overjoyed. “These words of love - All of Arthur’s feelings for me - I know each and every one of you feels the same for the loved ones waiting impatiently for you at home; So, for once, I will transmit your words to those waiting for you here, in Britain.” she cleared her throat. “For every mother, father, aunt and uncle, brother or sister... For grandparents, children, wives and husbands and friends also - For every living being here, in Britain, waiting for your beloved to return home, safe and sound - Just know that your letters have been received, and so have all of your love and good intentions. They are thinking of you, the very same way - So keep on hoping and praying, and know they are heard and working. Your loved ones need it.”

A whole year passed, and many more were going to follow; Emboldened by the fantastic idea of the podcast, more and more women, children and elderly decided to join the production, each of them passing along their message to those on the battlefield, read live by Y/N.

“As the war rages on, it becomes harder to find the right words. I have come to speak to you every day, for a year and a half - And I dearly hope none of you have gotten bored of my voice yet.” she chuckled softly. “I know that you, Arthur, and all the soldiers, need to hear that we believe in you. You are not forgotten, not for a moment.” she went on. “My dearest Arthur, hold on to our memories, for they are the thread that will guide you back to me. England’s women stand with you, every step of the way.” she took one letter in her hand. “But today it’s not only about you and how much I love you, Artie. From today on, I am going to read for you the letters that may have never been received by you.” she cleared her throat. “This letter is written by young Jimmy, a charming 5 year old lad who wants to write to his grandpa, Captain Andrew Brown. < Dear Grandpa Andy, mommy taught me how to write, and I wanted you to be the first to see me writing. I never met my daddy, but for me, you are my daddy. I hope you return home soon; I want to play horsie again - And you promised to teach me how to play football when I grow old. I’m a big boy now, I help mommy carry yucky veggies at home - And I eat everything from my plate. Mommy said you’ll come home faster if I study well and get good grades, so I’ll do my best! I love you, papi! > “

The old man was moved to tears; He was imagining his own grandson crying for him. A single mother, whose only support is an old man gone to war. Life truly was unfair.  In spite of that, the letters read on the podcast began rapidly to gain traction; Every person out there had something to say to someone on the battlefield.

“Today, the news brought a glimmer of hope. Arthur, your bravery has not gone unnoticed. I heard of your close call, and my heart ached with fear and relief. You  are my hero, and I send you all my love and strength. To all soldiers, know that each of you is a hero in someone’s heart. Hold fast, for victory is within sight.” she held a letter in her hand, ready to read it. “This time, we have a letter from Mr. Daniel Masters, wanting to share his wholesome words with his wife, Mrs. Angela Masters, who selflessly volunteered as a nurse on the battlefield, and was deployed in Verdun.” she began reading the letter. “ < My darling Angie, you are an angel on this earth. Not only did you volunteer to go out there, in the middle of the war, to save me, a useless cripple, from dying there, but you are saving other men with your fantastic knowledge and skills in medicine. I and my sister are working hard so that when you return, we can have the wedding of your dreams. And don’t worry about little Susie, she’s in perfect health and asking about her mommy every day. She started braiding her hair like you, saying she wants to be pretty like mommy - And what do you know, she found your stack of medicine books under the bed and began asking me to explain those long words - I have no idea what those words mean, I can’t even pronounce them. I hope you’ll come home soon, my angel. We miss you very much, and we love you endlessly. > “

Thus four years passed, day after day, with Y/N passing on the words of Britain, yearning for Her children to return home. At some point, even Ada sent a message for Freddy, reminding him of their childhood love - And Polly wanted to tell the brothers that they have to be strong and return back no matter what.

Finally, it was the fated day - The Government announced the soldiers of Birmingham arriving by train, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The station was a sea of anticipation and anxiety, filled to the brim, overcrowded by people of all kinds and ages. Y/N stood amidst the crowd, her heart pounding as she scanned the faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of Arthur. The air was filled with the sounds of families reuniting, joyful cries mingling with the tears of those who had waited so long for this moment.

Children clung to their mothers yelling a collective ‘Daddy’, elderly parents searched for their sons, and wives stood on tiptoes, straining to see over the throng of people. Y/N felt a mix of hope and fear, her eyes darting from one soldier to another, desperately searching for the one face she longed to see. The same uniforms everywhere, but no sign of her beloved.

As more soldiers stepped off the train, the crowd surged forward, and Y/N was jostled, her view obscured by the pressing bodies. Panic began to set in. What if Arthur wasn't on this train? What if something had happened in the final days? Her heart raced, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want the only keepsakes to be the letters he sent her during war; That makes for a most tragic memento.

"Artie!" she called out, her voice lost in the cacophony of the station. “Artie, angel, where are you?!” she continued shouting, but her soft voice was drowned out by the other people calling for their loved ones.

Minutes felt like hours as she stood there, her eyes scanning the thinning crowd. She felt lost, a wave of despair washing over her as the platform began to empty. Just as she was about to break down, fall on her knees and succumb to her grief, a figure appeared through the remaining haze of steam and people.

Arthur.

He was thinner than she remembered, his face gaunt and eyes hollowed by the horrors of war. His disheveled uniform hung loosely on his frame, and he moved with a weary slowness. But when his eyes met hers, a spark of recognition and relief lit up his face.

"Y/N." he breathed, his voice hoarse and tired.

At first, her mind blanked, and her legs became jelly, shaking like two flowers in the wind - It took Arthur smiling and calling her name again, to regain autonomy over her body. She ran to him, tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around him. The world seemed to stop as they held each other, the pain of their long separation melting away in the warmth of their embrace. Arthur clung to her as if she were the lifeline that had pulled him through the darkest days - And just as promised, he twirled her around. Y/N, his angel, was back where she had to be - In his arms.

"You came back." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You really, really came back. You’re here, in the flesh, alive and breathing, and living -- I’m not dreaming, I’m not imagining - I’m not dead, am I?” she pulled back, cupping his face and looking him in those gorgeous doe-eyes of his. So gentle and so loving. “You are real, aren’t you? You came back to me.”

"I promised you, didn't I?" he replied, a faint smile touching his lips despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “I promised I’d come back and marry you. No man would be crazy enough not to return home to an angel like you.”

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the noise and chaos of the station fading into the background. Arthur was home, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t sure whether it was Y/N comforting Arthur after 4 years of horror experienced, or Arthur was pacifying his poor cry-baby darling; Yet one thing was sure - They were where they were supposed to be.

"I'm so proud of you." Y/N said softly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, before peppering him with kisses all over his face. "You made it through, Arthur. You're here. My hero. You are my hero, Artie. Our hero. You saved us."

He nodded, his gaze steady but shadowed by the memories of what he'd endured. "It's over now. No more about what happened - I don’t wanna hear about it anymore.” he shook his head, holding onto her tightly. “I am home."

As they walked away from the station, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of peace settling over her, yet she was still shaken - She was clinging onto her beloved like a baby koala, afraid of losing him, like an oasis mirage. They had both been through so much, but now they could face the future together. The road ahead would not be easy, but with Arthur by her side, she knew they could overcome anything.

The war had taken its toll on them, but their love had endured. The Shelby family was entirely reunited, and trying to heal from the festering wounds created by the four year massacre. Life will never be the same, but they had to learn how to live again, and adjust to a whole new world that was in constant development - A fast world that was waiting for no one, especially not for veterans and their grief.

Each member of the family was affected differently; John became rebellious, Ada was going through a desperate need for affection from Freddy, Polly became dissolute and cynical, Tommy was no longer the adventurous young man who was Y/N’s partner in crime, but a most apathetic and lethargic man, Arthur became aggressively violent and would lose his mind every time he heard a loud noise resembling guns or bombs, and Y/N had to learn how to stop her nightmares and live without worrying her husband would disappear and it would all just be a delusion.

Either way, only one thing mattered for Y/N.

Arthur was home.

[peakyswritings]

My Father’s Daughter

Time to Say Goodbye

Arthur Shelby x Daughter!OC

Summary: sometimes the hardest decision is the better one.

Warnings: mentions of death, alcohol and drug addiction, rocky father-daughter relationship, tiny reference to sex, angst, season 6 spoilers, English is not my first language.

A/N: guess we’re starting from the ending! Each chapter will be a standalone. They will be linked, but they can be read separately. This is set in season 6.

Edit: putting this here cause I think I haven’t been as clear as I wanted to, since it created a bit of confusion🙈 This is the end of Rosalind’s story - or at least, of her story within the family. I wanted to try something different than what I usually do and start from the ending. In the next chapters I’m going back to 1919 and from them on I’ll explore how things turned out the way they turned out.

MEET ROSALIND

SERIES MOODBOARD

In the dim light of a room she knew all to well by now, Rosalind looked for her undergarments among the mess of clothes lying on the floor. The sun was about to set, and she needed to leave before it got too dark. These days, the streets of Birmingham weren’t safe even for a Shelby.

She slid into her slip, the cool material bringing some relief to her skin, still warm from the activities that had been going on up until a few minutes before. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she would’ve liked to stay a while. He would’ve liked it too. But it would just mean to pointlessly carry over something that was bound to happen all the same. She had never been one for cuddling, anyway. Running a hand through her ruffled red locks, she glanced at her… whatever Isiah Jesus was to her.

He was still lying in bed, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. He kept his gaze on her, watching her every movement. “So you’re leaving.”

“Yes.”

“Does your father know?”

“Not yet.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she zipped up her dress. She had to tell him, she knew she did. As tempting as the prospect of just leaving without telling anyone else was. “I’ll tell him tonight.”

“Y’know where he is?” he inquired. Isiah was no stranger to Arthur Shelby’s habits, and the course they had taken of late. One could never tell whether he’d go back home or spend his night in the Chinese shop whose business was flourishing thanks to the generous amount of money he spent in it.

“Drunk, somewhere,” she shrugged. “Maybe high. Maybe both.”

She wasn’t worried. She knew her father would show up, eventually. He always did. He needed someone to take care of him when he was too wasted to even stand. She couldn’t be that someone anymore. And it wasn’t like he deserved it. She loved him, of course she did, despite everything. But love was not enough.

“I can’t convince you to stay, can I?”

Isiah’s question hung in the air for a while, then, just like it came, it faded away. He knew the answer, she didn’t need to say it. It was more like himself talking to himself. There was a glimpse in his dark eyes, one of sadness, perhaps. Sadness, and something else Rosalind refused to see. That look could’ve almost compelled her to stay, had things been different.

“What will I do without you, eh?” He let out a chuckle, a poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “You’ve been pestering me since you came around.”

“Well it’s time you got yourself a woman. Start a family,” she teased him, sitting on the bed to put on her shoes.

He laughed, shaking his head. The only woman I’d start a family with doesn’t want to hear any of that, he thought to himself. But he didn’t say it. Cause he couldn’t.

Rosalind would’ve missed him too, there was no point in lying to herself. But there was no point in dwelling over what could’ve been either. It was time for her to turn page, to leave that life behind. Was she running away? Yes, she had no intention of hiding it from herself. Maybe if she ran fast enough she could escape the old curse. Polly had said it once. It’s in us. In our blood. We need to move, or it catches up with us.

Maybe it would catch up with her anyway.

Her gaze rested on Isiah one last time. She wondered if she’d forget about his face, overtime. If it would deform and fade until it became an indistinct blur and she could no longer picture it in her mind, like it had happened with her mother. She leaned in to press a kiss on his lips. It was chaste, tender, so different from the ones they had shared until then. She wanted to imprint the feeling of his soft lips against hers. That was the one thing she didn’t want to forget.

“Goodbye, Isiah.”

The sound of Rosalind’s heels on the cobblestones resounded in the empty street, breaking the uncanny stillness. Wrapping herself tighter in her expensive coat, she watched are her breath came out in little white clouds in the chilly air, illuminated by the street lamps. Small Heath was so different from the way it used to be years ago. There used to be workers in every corner, striking iron, shovelling coal, lighting fires. Now it was dead silent.

The gun she always carried with her granted her a faint feeling of safety. There had been a time when she was untouchable. When she would walk down the street knowing no one would dare look at her twice, let alone hurt her. Then Aunt Polly was killed, and all of her certainties came tumbling down. If Elizabeth Gray could be taken out, there was no hope for any of them.

When she walked through the front door of her house, she was hit by the reek of booze and smoke. Her father was there. He was sitting at the head of the table, with rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, and an empty look in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. She wondered if he had noticed her stuff was missing, or if he was too stoned to pay attention to anything. She took a seat in front of him, trying to figure out whether he was lucid enough to have that conversation. Or any conversation.

“I’m leaving.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, there was almost no emotion on his face. He looked like a dead man forced to stand by some invisible string, like a puppet in a theatre. It wasn’t the first time she got the impression that all the shit he took - the booze, the cocaine, the opium - had drained all the life out of him, leaving just the shell of the man he once was.

For the first time since she had entered the house, he raised his gaze on her. The gaze she met every time she looked in the mirror. That was the one thing she could never escape from.

“Leaving where?”

“America. New York.”

“To do what?”

“I’ll figure it out,” her voice faltered. All the firmness she had armed herself with was threatening to slip away. Her father’s stare was hard, unflinching. She didn’t let it intimidate her. “In truth, I asked uncle Tommy if he needed help with anything, in New York. He said I should talk to you first.”

As if her father was in the conditions of having that conversation.

A silent question arose in his face, but he didn’t say anything. She didn’t give him the chance to. “Then I changed my mind. Whatever I’ll do, I’ll do it on my own.”

Her father nodded to himself, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “So ye’re walking out on us. On your old man. On your family.”

That attempt to instil a sense of guilt sent a wave of burning rage through Rosalind’s spine. She didn’t give in to it, though. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t snap. She limited herself to raise her eyebrows and and let out a scoff. “What family?” she asked dryly.

Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, lowering his gaze, his own facade crumbling.

She could’ve stopped there. She could’ve spared him the pain. But she didn’t. “Aunt Polly’s dead. Uncle John’s dead. Esme and her kids have vanished into thin air. Michael’s in America, and he hasn’t been a part of this family since he’s been sent away. Uncle Tommy’s not himself anymore. Aunt Ada’s raising two fatherless children. God knows what Finn’s up to. And you…” she paused, grimacing. “You’re a mess.”

A pained expression crossed her father’s face. Her words were more venomous than poison. She knew she was hurting him. Part of her felt bad for that, but the other part wanted to make him feel a tiny part of the pain that had been inflicted upon her since the day she was born. That was the one thing she’d always carry with her.

“Linda left you because you fucked up. I didn’t like her, you know it. But she took care of you, and you fucked up. She left, and even that didn’t change you.”

She didn’t blame Linda for leaving. She had a long list of things to resent her for, but leaving with Billy was not one of them. She couldn’t take care of him anymore. And now Rosalind knew how Linda felt. Everyday she was waiting for the news that her father had been found dead in an alley, with a syringe in his arm. Or killed in one of the fights he engaged in, chasing the thrill of his long gone backstreet days. She had prepared herself to hear something like that a long time ago. She had come to terms with the fact that he was beyond saving.

Her father loosened the collar of his shirt as if he was choking on the truth his daughter was dumping on him. A glimpse of guilt shone in his eyes, and yet, no apology left his lips. “Walking out on yer old man,” he repeated in muffled words.

“You walked out on me first.”

None of them said another word. Not Arthur, who was still digesting what his daughter had said to him, nor Rosalind, who hadn’t meant for their confrontation to take that turn. But too many things had been left unspoken for too long. And Arthur Shelby, despite his efforts to be better, had not managed to escape the curse that had been passed on to him by his father, and by his father before him. His inability to apologise was the proof.

With nothing left to say or do, Rosalind walked out that house she couldn’t call home, and closed the door behind her.

That was the last conversation she ever had with her father.

My Father’s Daughter taglist: @strayrockette @justrainandcoffee

General taglist:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[samdeancass]

His Reaction to Your Boyfriend Cheating on You (Peaky Blinders Preference)

Requested: No.

Characters: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby

_______________________________

Tommy

To say that Tommy is furious would be an understatement. Seeing you crying at the table, completely broken, made his blood boil. With a swift kiss to your forehead, and leaving you in the capable hands of Aunt Poll, Tommy gathered together the rest of the Peaky Blinders, along with your other brothers, and stormed their way to your boyfriends house, where they made him wish that he was never born.

Tommy smiled lightly as he seen your sleeping form when he arrived back. Aunt Poll put a finger to her lips before he slowly walked over, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “Everything’s taken care of now, Y/N. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

Arthur

“Why the fuck did you do it! I want an answer!” You stood across the room from your now ex boyfriend, chest heaving with anger. Your boyfriend just stared at the floor and shrugged. “Just felt like it...” Your face turned an angry red, steam literally coming out of your ears. In a fit of rage, you picked up the nearest object and threw it at his head, narrowly missing him.

“Are you mad?! That nearly hit me!” “That was the fucking point!” At that moment the front door opened and in stepped Arthur, looking puzzled at the scene before him. Whereas, you actually heard your ex gulp as he realized exactly what was going to happen. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Arthur looked at you for an answer but your angry gaze was still on your ex. “Him. He cheated on me with that slut down the road. He said that he just felt like it, not giving two shits about me!”

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he pulled out his gun, aiming it at your ex’s head, and shot him dead between the eyes. “That’s what happens when you mess with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”

John

John walked up to your bedroom door and went to open it but stopped in his tracks when he heard muffled sobs coming from inside. “Y/N, sweetheart, can I come in?” Hearing a muffled reply, he opened the door and made his way to your side, picking you up and cradling you. “What’s the matter?” “He-he cheated on me. Said I was no good, said I wasn’t worth anything, that he found someone better.”

You began sobbing again and it broke John’s heart hearing his little sister cry. He kissed the top of your head and lay you back down gently, secretly seething with anger. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m coming right back, I just need to teach him a lesson. Nobody makes my sister cry, not without consequences.” 

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 12

Titty Fucking with Arthur Shelby

"Pearl Necklace"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You & Arthur have another afternoon romp in his office

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, jealousy, swearing, pet names, marking, oral sex, titty fucking, handjob, cumplay, pearl necklace, almost facial, little bit of fluff

After that first night you crossed the line, you and Arthur continued your affair with little guilt from either of you. Yes, he was still technically married to Linda; but emotionally and mentally, he was all yours. To the world, you were his in all possible aspects after that night. Something that soon spread to those in the office as well as those throughout Birmingham, and you are sure, got back to his wife as well.

Not that she could really have treated you any worse than she did before your affair started. If anything, Linda's abuse and vitriol towards you had lessened since your real affair began. She knew she had lost the battle that she had created in her own mind. That much was evident by the locket Arthur bought you with both of your initials on it. It was a promise that when business settled down, when the stock market fallout was done, he would leave Linda and make an honest woman out of you. Assuming she didn't divorce him first. He had contacts who told him she had been trying to find a lawyer for a while.

His family pretty much all knew about the two of you, and most of them were supportive. Tommy especially. Which was no surprise, really, knowing his dislike of Linda and preference towards you. He would often say he was sending Arthur out of town for business only to send the two of you to spend a few days locked in a suite at the Midland Hotel together instead. Polly and Lizzie were a little more critical that you two weren't doing more to hide your affair and keep it out of the office. Both metaphorically and literally.

Arthur's office itself still being one of the main sites of your romps. Even now, as Arthur called you into his office, you couldn't help the smile on your face. Your stride became all the more confident as other employees started to move towards the front door. None of them frankly wanting to hear you two fucking again.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby."

You used your sweetest voice as you walked in and shut the door behind you, not even bothering to throw the lock. If someone walked in, it was their own fault. You and Arthur loved playing cat and mouse at the office. A lopsided grin on his lips and a predatory glint in his eyes as you sashayed over to where he sat. An extra sway in your hips as you undid a couple extra buttons on your blouse. Making sure he would get an eyeful of your breasts and peek at your bra, his favorite mauve silk one, when you bent down over his desk.

He immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit in his lap. His face immediately buried in your neck, sucking and kissing at your throat. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hummed happily. Closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his lips on you.

"Apparently, you left some impressive scratch marks on my back a couple nights ago, love. Didn't even bother making up a lie to Linda when she saw them. Just shrugged. Don't fucking care anymore. Love it when you leave your mark on me, darlin’. Can't wait until I can openly tell everyone you're mine."

His fingers playing with the locket around your neck as he daydreamed about fucking you silly in your wedding dress. He had already removed his wedding ring. He only put it on anymore when he went home to Linda. He hated seeing it and knowing that it meant he wasn't married to you. That he still had to deal with her bullshit.

You could already feel his cock hardening beneath your ass. Letting your hips wiggle against him just a little to let him know you could feel it. He growled low in your ear nipping at the spot just below your ear.

"Well, Mr. Shelby, I did just touch up my lipstick, so how about I leave a new mark or two? Maybe here…"

You tilted his head up and to the side, placing a kiss on his neck. Pulling back to see the red lipstick print you left behind.

"... and here…"

This time, you placed a kiss on the other side of his neck. This time, making sure you placed it low enough on his neck to leave lipstick on his collar. Smiling at the way the bright shade popped against the starched white fabric.

You slithered out of his lap onto the floor in front of him. Your body poised between his legs. Keeping your eyes on his as you opened his waistcoat before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Opening them enough to expose the crotch of his white boxer shorts. Lowering your head until your lips were hovering just over the tent there.

"... and here."

You couldn't hold back a little giggle when you saw your lipstick print over his cock. Oh yes. This was the perfect little 'fuck you' to Linda. Maybe if you made her mad enough she would just leave on her own already. At this point all three of you knew she was staying merely out of spite.

"Fuck, angel. So good to me. Now quit that Mr. Shelby bullshit. At least until I can call you Mrs. Shelby. Besides you know I love hearing you scream my name when we fuck."

You raised up on your knees and drug your hands up over his muscular thighs onto his abdomen. Pulling at his suspenders as you tugged his head down to meet your lips. Nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away just far enough to whisper against his skin. His mustache tickling you lightly as you spoke.

"I want to make you scream my name right now, Arthur. You can make me scream later tonight."

Placing one more kiss on his lips, you pulled away and started working to undo his suspenders from his pants. Wiggling your behind excitedly once you had them undone and could start pulling his pants and boxers down to his knees. A smirk on his face at how exuberant you were to suck him off. He would happily return the favor later.

His cock springing free of it's confines as you settled back down onto your heels. Smiling up at him as you began peppering his inner thighs with lipstick tinted kisses. An almost lovesick look in Arthur's eyes as he watched you. His sweet little angel could be oh so devilish.

“Fuck, love. I can tell you right now I'm not gonna last long. Look so fucking pretty on your knees for me.”

With your most innocent eyes you started to kitten lick the tip of his cock. Lapping at it several times before licking your lips and fluttering your lashes at him. Humming to yourself like he was the most delicious treat you had ever tasted. Thoroughly pleased with your work when you opened your eyes and saw Arthur's mouth hanging open looking totally hypnotized. The lanky gangster may be feared by most of Birmingham, but you had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Love you, Arthur”

“Love you too, sw– ohhhhh”

Before Arthur could finish his sentence you lowered your head and took his cock as deep as you could. His words halting and giving way to needy groan. His head falling back and his eyes closing as you started to shallowly bob up and down on his shaft. Keeping your suction consistent until you decided to pull all the way off his cock with a loud pop.

You began to suckle on the head of his cock as you brought one hand up to stroke his hard length. Purposely licking over his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue. You loved getting a taste of what was now reserved just for you. Purring as you swirled your tongue around his ridge. Letting your saliva drip down his shaft and onto his balls.

Turning to look at the clock over your shoulder quickly while you moved to massage his balls, you realized just how soon Tommy was due to be back in the office. You needed to work fast if you wanted to finish Arthur off before you were inevitably interrupted. A wicked little plan forming in your mind.

Smiling sweetly up at him, you placed open mouth sucking kisses up and down his throbbing length. Your fingers nimbly working to open your blouse even more to completely reveal your chest. Your eyes locked with Arthur's as you pulled the cups of your bra down and let your breasts spill free.

After leaning over and spitting on the tip, you started stroking his cock with both hands. Twisting them in opposite directions on your upstroke. Making sure his cock was thoroughly soaked.

Once you were satisfied you suckled on his swollen head once more. Sucking as hard as you could while your tongue flicked at his frenulum. Pulling off of his cock after earning a shallow buck from Arthur's hips. You knew he was getting close.

Bracing yourself on his strong thighs, you scooted as close to the chair as you could. Letting the head of Arthur's cock rub against your chest. Painting a dribble of precum right next to the locket that bore both of your initials.

Arthur's eyebrow quirked up in question of what you were up to. His curiosity growing when you moved the locket over your shoulder so it was out of the way and brought your hands to your breasts and started toying with your nipples. Spitting onto his cock again as you positioned his manhood between your tits and squeezed them together.

Slowly starting to move up and down you smiled deviously as you saw the light bulb click on in Arthur's brain, finally realizing that you wanted him to fuck your tits. Excitedly he brushed his hands over your cheeks and down onto your shoulders as he gently started to thrust his hips.

“Oh, such a naughty mind you have, lovey. Gonna be wearing my cum the rest of the day.”

“Maybe that's what I want. I marked you, now I want you to mark me, Arthur.”

The visual of his cock squeezed between your beautiful breasts was quickly pushing Arthur to the edge. His thrusts growing faster and harder by the second. His teeth gritting together and a growl coming from deep in his chest when you stuck out your tongue so you could lick at the tip of his cock when it peaked up between your breasts.

His breathing started to fall in heavy shaky blows as he struggled to keep any sense of composure. He looked truly wrecked as you gazed up at him through your lashes. His brown hair falling forward over his face, his mouth hanging open, and desperately trying to keep his eyes on the erotic sight of you before him.

“Oh, fuck love, gonna cum! So fuckin’ good to me. Feels so fuckin’ good! Keep your tongue out darlin’. Here it comes!”

A deep growl and a moan falling from Arthur's lips as his hips stuttered and his fingers dug into your shoulders so hard they were sure to leave bruises. His cock twitching as his cum erupted onto your chest, neck, and chin. The warmth of his thick white spend making you shiver against the cool air in the office.

You couldn't help but giggle at Arthur as he fell back exhausted into his chair. Desperately trying to catch his breath. Leaning forward and placing a few more kitten licks on his softening cock and his thighs before pulling up and refastening his boxers, and lovingly caressing his thighs. Comforting your contented lover.

Suddenly, the door quickly swung open and in stepped Arthur's brother, Tommy. He, in particular, seemed to have a knack at knowing the worst possible times to appear. Startling both you and poor Arthur out of his post-orgasm haze. Arthur immediately moved to sit up and pretend you hadn't both been caught.

As soon as he saw you on your knees and his brother's pants undone, Tommy essentially knew what he had walked in on. He was relieved to see that at least it appeared he missed the main event. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips, addressing both of you nonchalantly before leaving just as quickly as he had entered. His face was unchanged the entire time.

“Clean up. Both of you. Family meeting in five minutes.”

Your cheeks had turned beet red in embarrassment. Unsure of whether Tommy had been able to see your bare breasts or that your chest and neck were coated in Arthur's cum. Suddenly second guessing your decision not to lock the office door after all.

Arthur pulled you up into his lap and started cleaning you up with his handkerchief and laughing at your sheepish expression. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips as he finished wiping you down. He fixed your bra and straightened out your locket, kissing you more deeply before reassuring you his brother wouldn't give you trouble.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. If Tom says anything, I'll just say that he hasn't paid me enough to buy you a proper pearl necklace, so we improvised.”

You threw your head down into his neck and burrowed into his arms even farther in embarrassment. Arthur's arms holding onto you as tight as he could, laughing even louder when he felt you starting to giggle too and placing kisses into your hair. Both of you were aware that even if Tommy didn’t say anything at the very least, John would enjoy giving both of you hell.

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

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[darklydeliciousdesires]

Never Forgotten - An Arthur Shelby/Reader Short Story.

I am in the mood to create tonight, my loves! Here's another for you :)

Words - 778

Warnings - Fluff ahead! :D

“Love! I’m home!” he booms from the front door, your jaw tightening immediately. “Where are ya?” 

“Kitchen.” Your tone is flat, the irritation you’ve been attempting to recover yourself from roaring into life once more, like a dying fire doused in petrol. 

He’s brought it on himself, though, as he so often does. 

You hear his heavy footsteps grow louder, the kitchen door shunted open with a squeak. “Gotta oil them hinges.” he mutters.  

It’s just one more thing he says he’ll get around to. Unless he forgets completely. Just like certain other important things.  

“Sweetheart, leave them dishes now. Turn around and look at your husband,” he instructs. To anyone else, it would sound like a baleful demand, but that’s just Arthur and his baritone, a voice like boulders crashing against one another. It’s the sexiest thing in the world when he’s in a state of arousal, but that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Right now, you feel like walloping him with the meat tenderiser you’ve just washed in the hot, soapy water. 

“Come on, petal. Look at me.” 

You’re all set to fix him with the same glare you viewed him with across the breakfast table this morning, drying your hands as you turn away from the sink. When you take him in, though, you couldn’t be more surprised.  

“Thought I’d forgotten, didn’t ya?” he beams, proffering the gigantic bunch of red roses and champagne bottle he carries forth. “Happy anniversary, my little dove.”  

You don’t completely thaw as he presses a kiss to your lips, eyeing him with suspicion as you part. “You still could have forgotten, Arthur. Hence why I’m receiving these gifts now rather than this morning.” 

He raises his eyebrows. “That right, is it?” 

“It is,” you state, placing the flowers and bottle down on the table.  

He jerks his head in the direction of the back door, taking your hand and kissing it. “This ain’t your whole present. Come on.” 

Walking you out along the path that leads to your flower garden there at your beautiful country cottage, he lets out a piercing whistle, the sound of string instruments beginning to filter out. Rounding the corner, you gasp at the sight of two violinists and a cellist, stationed a little way from an elegantly prepared table, a smartly dressed waiter standing in wait. 

“Greetings, Mrs Shelby. My name is Bryant, and I shall be your waiter tonight. Please, do take a seat and allow me to furnish you with a glass of champagne.”  

You turn to Arthur, your eyes wide, mouth dropped open. “How?” 

He reaches beneath your chin, closing your mouth. “You’ll catch flies like that.” 

“But... how did you do all this without me seeing? I could have been out to hang the washing, anything!” 

“But you weren’t, were ya?” he chuckles, pulling a chair away from the table and gesturing for you to sit. “They all got here while you were out with Jenny for afternoon tea. I made her keep you out for longer than usual.” 

You had wondered, why your best friend had lingered over the tiny cakes and finger sandwiches, rather than devouring the tea with her usual gusto. She was in cahoots with your husband here. Damn them! Damn then, but also, bless them, for giving you the most beautiful surprise you certainly didn’t expect. In fact, you spent half the afternoon bending her ear over how pissed off you were with him.  

No wonder she’d looked like she was trying to hide her amusement at times. You’d just taken it as her reacting to Arthur being his usual self.

“And how have they managed to bring dinner out here?” 

He leans across the table, thanking the waiter when he fills the two empty flutes with champagne. “Food can travel, you know.”  

You roll your eyes with a sigh. “Arthur.”  

“What?” he booms, laughing. Oh, he finds this much too funny for your liking. “I dunno, they stick it all in a pot, whack it in the back of a car and there you go! I dunno the fucking logistics, I just paid ‘em!”  

You chew the side of your cheek in mild fury, which juxtaposes with how much your heart is bursting with love for him. “You let me think you forgot deliberately, didn’t you?” 

His moustache bristles, his grin beaming from beneath. “Suppose I did. Can’t deny I like it when you’re fiery, though. What can I say, love? I like a lamb in the kitchen and a tiger in the bedroom.”  

When he finally gets you there a few hours later, you certainly do show him a wild time.  

[look-at-the-soul]

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

Author’s notes: This story is for you, in no particular order @zablife @runnning-outof-time @red-riding-wood @teenwolf-theoriginals @justrainandcoffee @brummiereader I’ve had the main idea in my mind for weeks after driving past a luxury restaurant daily, I think it’d still haunt me if I didn’t write this one down lol… anyways I decided to a few names of lovely mutuals. This is a small nod to you all for the amazing work you do and in an attempt to cheer you up or anyone who might need it at the moment. If for whatever reason you feel down, without inspiration, worried, or anything else, know that it will pass. This particular moment that feels like too much won’t last forever ✨I just hope/wish you get what you are looking for. And to anyone else going through anything hard right now, this is for you too!

Ps. Don’t panic the fandom isn’t falling down, I just felt the need to dedicate this story to lovely mutuals to spoil and cheer them up a bit 🤗

Last but not least, extra 🌟 to @blondie-22 for creating this gorgeous moodboard!! 💖

Word count: 3,245

Friday night had been quiet compared to today, it seems like everyone decided to go out on Saturday and go to that club, as if there wasn’t enough options in the city.

Y/N swallowed hard feeling worried, this was her second weekend working at the club and she wanted to give a good first impression and save as much money as possible.

Her other job as secretary paid for the rent and services, but she needed to have this second one on the weekends to support her grandmother and her medicines.

As the hostess, she was requested to wear a total black outfit, so she thought her little black dress was the right choice, it was fitting for her shape, it wasn’t too revealing or short and one of the girls, Red had suggested spraying some lidocaine on her feet to be able to stand all night in those heels. She quickly adapted well to the group of girls that worked there, they were all so nice to her and welcoming.

“Ready? I’ve an amazing list prepared.” Lee, one of the girls walked past her, ready to take her place at the DJ booth.

“Last week was hectic, I’ve a feeling this will be crazier.” Y/N expressed fiddling with the guest list for the night.

“Here, drink this.” Brummie, another of the girls came closer placing a glass next to Y/N. After a week, Y/N learned the reason for that nickname was her strong Brummie accent even after all the years she left the place.

“Go easy on the drinks, she makes them strong.” K chuckled. She was the first one to welcome Y/N into their little girls-gang as they called themselves. The only ladies working in a place owned by men.

“Doors opening in ten.” The manager advised, taking one more look at the place, waiters were ready. “Make tonight a good night everybody.”

Lee started playing the music then, experimenting with some new beats, she mixed a couple of the new hits. Lights down, Y/N took a deep breath, approaching the door.

“They better leave good tips tonight.” Red raised her eyebrows. She was in charge of promos, she was great at convincing people to order another round of shots, or if it was ladies night and they got 2x1 on special drinks.

“We’re in your hands Red.”

“I’ll do my best ladies.” She replied through the device they shared to communicate.

“Alright, it’s about time.” Y/N rolled her neck. “Lee, we’ve a party of six tonight, celebrating a bachelorette, could you include some anthems?”

“Absolutely darl.” Lee then turned up the volume of the music.

“If someone sees that baker, let me know?” Rose appeared then at the bar, she had been hiding in the office, she was in charge of detecting any potential trouble from the monitors.

“Sweetheart, everyone knows he’s not a baker.” Lee informed her, talking about Alfie.

“I haven’t seen him, so I wouldn’t know.” Y/N called from her place.

“Oh he’s just the most handsome man ever.” Rose swooned.

Y/N chuckled, the club would be the last place where she’d find love, she just knew that. Walking towards the door, the guard opened it for her.

She started searching for the name she was given in the guest list. A group of girls wearing exaggerated make up and deep cleavage plus the shortest skirts or dresses where the firsts ones to make it in. She was totally against it, but it was an unwritten rule to let people in, the more skin, the better.

But she wasn’t there to judge anyone, let the girls dress as they preferred, in the end she wasn’t the one getting wasted and dragged in the end of the night to throw up outside. She was there just for the money. Another table was filled by three men, they were older and dressed in button shirts with ripped jeans, as if it was an uniform for them.

Y/N thought how it was funny to try to guess their backgrounds, where they came from and with whom they might leave the club. She was just trying to make the time pass faster.

In no time, the club was packed, but outside there was still a bunch of people trying to make it.

People tried to give Y/N money to get in, some were even rude to her but the guards took charge into the matter and invited them to leave.

“I made a reservation, could you check again?” The young guy requested politely.

Y/N started reading the names again, but by the corner of her eye, she caught someone skipping the line. “Ah, excuse me? Sir?”

The man who was already by the door, turned around slowly, opening the zipper of his jacket. His death stare made Y/N feel a shiver running down her back.

“There’s a line you’ve to make and wait.” Three more men arrived and stared at her with amused expressions. “Name?”

The man blinked and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “Shelby. But you won’t find my name there, love.” Y/N saw him stopping the three other men with his hand.

“Then you’ll have to wait in the queue.”

For an instant, his expression was so transparent and Y/N knew he was offended.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just following orders.” She apologized and shuddered under his intense blue irises.

“Oi!” One of them, the one with a mustache tried to step closer.

“Arthur, leave it, we’re going to follow this lovely lady’s order and wait.” He then turned to face her again. “Accept a sincere apology for trying to get in.” He then winked.

The well dressed men followed his instructions and stepped back. Then she focused on the next people on the guest list, guiding them inside.

Barely a minute went by when Lucas, the manager grabbed her by the arm, dragging her inside in a blunt movement that made her go alert.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lucas snapped, spit flying from his mouth. “You left the Shelby brothers outside! The fucking owners of this place.”

Just as Lucas was explaining Y/N her mistake , Tommy walked behind her, with his brothers following his steps.

“That was a first Tommy.” John grinned. “The first woman who doesn’t let you walk in as the owner of the place, and you did nothing.”

John was definitely having fun at Tommy’s expense. Arthur couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, but he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Yeah, yeah she was only doing her job.” Tommy tried to excuse the hostess.

There was something that took him by surprise and startled him.

“And you walked back to the queue like a dog with the tail between the legs.” John went off again.

Tommy dragged his eyes across the club, he needed to know more about her. So he walked towards the bar.

“The usual Mr. Shelby?” Brummie asked her boss from behind the bar, he always waited to be served at his table.

Slowly, he posed his eyes on her, considering his options. “Please.” He replied then, clearing his throat.

“Here you go, I’ll take the other drinks up in a second.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he turned his back at her and slowly strolled across the club. Although he had security, he always checked his surroundings.

After a while, he found the manager. “Lucas, come here.” Patting him on the back, Tommy asked him about the hostess, she was just passing by in that very moment, but Tommy noticed the quick glance she threw at him.

“Again, I’m sorry it happened Mr. Shelby, she’s new but it won’t repeat.”

“No problem.” He added calmly. “What do you know about her?”

Lucas shook his head, he didn’t care about the staff personal life. “Not much, but I’ll investigate her.”

In that moment, Tommy’s eyes found her, arms linked with the girl in charge of the checking the credit cards records.

“Damn it, I made a huge mistake, I’m so so done.” Y/N cried in a low voice. Worry written all over her face.

“What did you do?” Rose squeezed her shoulder.

“I didn’t know it was him.” She babbled. “I asked Mr. Shelby and his brothers to wait in line for their turn to get a fucking table.” Y/N explained over the music.

Rose stared at her for a split second and then bursted into an incontrolable laugh. “No you didn’t!”

“I did Rose! I did… and now he’s going to fire me.”

But she kept laughing. Trying to take a deep breath she sent their chat group a message urging the other girls to meet in the back.

You’re not gonna believe what Y/N did, she’s a hero! - she announced proudly.

“I can’t imagine the face he put on, must’ve gone like a stone.” Rose pinched her arm playfully.

Lee programmed a couple of songs to play automatically, Brummie left the bartender in charge while she claimed a quick bathroom trip. Red rushed the guys on the table to pay her for their drinks and tip.

As the group gathered in the back, they we waiting eager to hear what had happened.

“Our newest friend here, made the boss wait in line to get a table.” Rose announced ceremonially, pointing at Y/N.

She wasn’t trying to make fun of her, just trying to have a moment to relax.

Y/N groaned mortified, she kept shaking her head. Overthinking of what would happen.

“Nice way to get the Shelby’s attention.” Red pointed at Y/N with a smile, enjoying the teasing.

“Can we ask for the CCTV footage?” K asked. “I want to see him in the line.”

“I was looking for you,” Isiah one of the blinders appeared suddenly, “ladies how are you doing? Y/N… Mr. Shelby wants to see you.”

A chorus of ohhh’s from the girls filled the space.

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Lee looked around the group.

“Well it depends…” Red crossed her arms. “Hopefully he’s in a good mood.”

“I doubt it to be honest.” Rose raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But maybe she knows how to tame the beast.”

“Oh oh, if there’s group meeting it means something happened?” Mia joined the girls, she asked permission to arrive later that day. She had some personal affair to attend.

K placed her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “You just missed the fun, but I’ll make a short version while we prepare some drinks.” They were both in charge of the bar.

“Last time we had an urgent meeting, Michael got arrested.” Mia remembered with a chuckle.

“Oh, this is better than that.” Red assured before going back to the crowded tables.

As Y/N followed Isiah, her heart was pounding, grabbing her phone she texted her friend, Heidi.

I think I messed up, BIG.

A quick answer appeared on her screen, in the background a themed photo illuminated the phone, beautiful shades of green reminded her of nature and hope, it was made by a really talented friend.

What happened?! Are you OK?

Yeah. No… I confused the owner of the club and asked him to wait outside and make the line!

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

If I don’t reply back he probably let me blind. Carries a peaky cap with a razor blade.

Y/N took a deep breath and checked her phone again.

Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Her friend encouraged back.

She just prayed to not mess it up again and start babbling, arriving at the private area where the Shelby’s were she quickly tried to fix her short hair and bangs.

“Good evening,” her voice was shaking, her legs and her heart, everything! “I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier, I’m new and didn’t know any of you.”

Her eyes landed one more time on who seemed to be the leader, those icy eyes boring into the deepest part of her. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Yeah, now me brother wants to find a way to speed the line up.” One of them explained, blowing his smoke towards the ceiling.

“John.” The man with the blue eyes warned. “Nevertheless, I’ve to thank you for keeping the line in check.”

His deep accent and the way he dragged each word gave her chills.

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

“Here drink this.” Another of them, the one with a mustache offered her a glass. “To a very good job!”

The two youngest were whispering something and staring back at the leader.

“It’s alright, really.” Tommy assured her after seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The one he called John a moment ago suggested.

“Again I’m really sorry.”

“Y/N is it?” He rolled his tongue over his lips after saying her name. “It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, I’m John, so you don’t mistake me again.” He had a huge grin on his face. “This is Finn, Michael and Arthur.” He started pointing out at everybody. “And that’s Tommy.”

“I won’t forget your names.” She repeated them mentally. “Enjoy your night, I’ll bring you another round.”

Y/N excused herself and went back to work. He was wearing a simple white shirt with a jacket and black jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. She was trying to focus on the people in the guest list instead of those eyes that reminded her of the most beautiful sky.

She smiled at a couple that walked past her dancing to the beat of the music.

A table next to her exploded in shouts and claps as K and Mia arrived with their shots and sparklers.

From the second floor, Tommy was watching her every move, eyes following her everywhere, studying her moves and the way she approached clients.

Arthur waved his hand in front of Tommy’s eyes after he didn’t listened to what he said.

“Tom? What do you think?”

Finn nudged John’s arm, tilting his head towards Tommy.

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, pretending to be part of their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Earth calling Tommy.” John teased. “He’s still waiting outside in the queue.”

Shooting John a death stare, he asked Arthur to repeat himself.

“Shall we call some women up?”

“Whatever.” He cleared his throat and stood up making his way through the club.

Talking to security, they informed him they kicked out a customer that got noisy and aggressive, but other than that, it was a quiet night. Everything seemed to be under control, the place was packed, everyone wanted to get in, live the experience and have the status only Delux could offer. He knew it was the best club in town, many club owners tried to copy his place, but they all failed, they tried to copy the details that made his club unique, it screamed luxury and good taste.

Eyeing Y/N across the club, Tommy decided to walk towards her, she was focused on the list before her eyes, swaying her hips to the beat of the music, pouting her lips murmuring the words… he could only imagine how would them feel against his, while his fingers tangled in her short hair.

Before he could reach her, she then turned her back at him to walk in the opposite direction, but abruptly, she changed her mind and turned around again, bumping into Tommy’s chest in the process.

“Mr. Shelby! I’m really sorry.” He could tell she was mortified, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Tommy reluctantly took a step back.

Y/N hoped her voice wouldn’t crack. “Do you need something?” Battling her lashes slowly at him. “Can I take you your drinks upstairs?”

He was startled by her overwhelming beauty, under some kind of spell by her voice and smile. It had been so long since he felt so captivated by someone… Shaking his head slowly to clear his mind, but she thought he was saying no to her.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Y/N started walking away. “Well if you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually I do.” Tommy managed to say, making Y/N turn to face him once more.

Everything happened in a blink, he grabbed her by her face and kissed Y/N, not able to resist the desire any longer. But when she answered the kiss with the same eagerness and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull Tommy closer he lost it.

Guiding Y/N towards the wall, he trapped her between it and his body.

Kissing her hard, he tilted his head to the opposite side, relieved to feel her matching his desire. Feeling one of his hands, brushing down from her waist to her hip and then down her leg, she added some pressure on his shoulders.

“Someone can come.” Y/N warned him breathlessly, his lips barely away from hers, just what was really necessary for her to speak.

“I don’t fucking care, I own this place.” Tommy told her right before kissing her again with passion.

Squeezing the flesh of her thigh and he felt as if he had whiskey injected in his veins.

Y/N moved her head back slightly, that left Tommy with his mouth hanging open in an almost sensual kiss that had just slipped away from him. Opening his eyes after the failed mission, he found her bitting her lower lip playfully.

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

“I really need get back to work or my boss might fire me.” Y/N explained before stealing one more quick peck on his lips and bending down to free herself from him, left Tommy leaning against the wall with his heart pumping so fast that it felt like he was having a heart attack.

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

Going back up, he stood looking down at the people at the club, his eyes scanning the place until he found that pretty little thing that with just one kiss, made him feel more than anyone else.

Feeling som eking of pressure on 5e back of her head, Y/N turned around and lifting her eyes, she found Tommy staring at her from the second floor. Raising his glass at her, he added a wink.

Y/N felt her cheeks blushing and smile quickly spread on her lips. Checking the clock, she walked towards the door it was about time to not let anyone else in.

“Your lipstick is smeared dear.” Mia pointed out.

“Damn it, really?” Worryingly she went back to the bar, to check her reflection on the mirror behind all the booze bottles.

As the girls started to ask her what had happened, she got another message on her phone.

Think you can send me back to the line twice and get away with it twice? Meet me in my office once you’re done. -Your boss.

She gasped. He oozed trouble from every angle, the one that won’t let you get up from bed after several rounds.

He was practically the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.

✨ thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little spiced story 🔥

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[fallatyourfeet]

Swanky Suits (Arthur x Female Reader)

One Shot

Credit to Gif creator- sorry I don't know who you are

Summary: Arthur is taken completely by surprise after being sent by Ada to get a new suit

Word count: 1322

Warnings: Awkward adorable Arthur. He gets a bit nervous and anxious.

Author's Note: This was only supposed to be around 500-700 words. Big fail. Also, can't believe I've posted two fics in a week. What the hell is happening to me.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

This place seemed far too swanky for Arthur, he felt completely out of place, but Ada had insisted he come. “Trust me Arthur, they’re the best tailors in London… you won’t be disappointed.” Looking at himself in the mirror out front of the change room, he had to agree. The pants and shirt were the nicest things he had ever worn, and he hadn’t even tried on the jacket yet. But still, no matter how much money he had lining his pockets, this place just felt a little too fancy for a boy from Small Heath. Maybe Tommy could get away with it, but him? Not a chance.

Walking up behind him, jacket in hand, came the attendant who helped him with his fittings last week, his posh London accent and manner doing nothing to ease Arthur’s inner monologue. Walking in a circle around him, he looked him up and down and nodded, quite pleased with himself, “The shirt and pants are a perfect fit, they won’t need any alterations at all.”

Moving behind him, he held open the jacket so Arthur could put his arms in and slipped it up over his shoulders. Then walking back around, he adjusted the lapels and buttoned it up, before stepping back, looking slightly disappointed, “The jacket is going to need some tweaking.” Placing a finger to his chin, the attendant sighed with thought. “It doesn’t need much… I might get our seamstress to have a look, she’s out the back. Otherwise, our tailor’s back tomorrow if you want to wait.” Unsure how to gauge Arthur’s expression, he added, “She’s very good… you won’t be disappointed.”

Arthur sniffed, visibly rolling his eyes as he adjusted the jacket, had this guy been talking to Ada? Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, “Yeah, alright, let her ‘ave a look.”

The attendant disappeared out back, leaving him in front of the mirror, and he couldn’t help but admire the cut and feel of the fabric. Arthur knew he was hardly posh and refined like ninety nine percent of the shops cliental, but he knew a bloody good suit when he saw one. And this was one of the best.

Moving to the edge of the store counter, he was flicking through a collection of swatches, taken completely off guard when to the side of him, someone spoke, “Arthur? ….. Arthur Shelby?”

An oddly familiar voice which Arthur couldn’t quite place, spoke his name. A voice from his childhood, only much more mature than he remembered. The edges to the Birmingham accent were a little softer, the volume somehow fuller, richer. A voice smoother than honey. ‘Hmmm’, he thought quite innocently, ‘a man could get used to a sound like that.’

Turning towards the voice, he almost jumped when he saw you. Dropping the swatches to the ground his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, standing straight as an arrow like a naughty child being caught in an act of mischief. He recognised you straight away. Even if he were an eighty-year-old man that hadn’t seen you in sixty years, he’d still know exactly who you were. His childhood crush. The girl who made his heart fly whenever she was near. The girl to which no other could compare. The girl he wanted to grow up and marry… And the girl who up and moved to London with her family when he was barely fifteen. Moved before he even found the courage to ask her out.

Arthur spoke your name, “YN?” It was almost a whisper. ‘Fuckin hell,’ he thought, you were even more beautiful than he remembered.

You smiled in response, and if his cheeks were pink before, they must be bright scarlet by now. Not sure what to do or say, he fumbled over his words, before blurting out, “You… you’re the seamstress?”

Lifting your hands, you laughed a little, waving the measuring tape and pin cushion they held, “I am… and these are the weapons of my trade.” Moving towards him, you placed them down on the counter, taking in every inch of his face, turning his poor scarlet cheeks crimson. “It’s good to see you, Arthur. My goodness, it must be what…? Twenty years?”

You moved even closer. Slipping your hands inside his jacket you went about your work, pinning together the alterations when your hand brushed against his side. It almost made him freeze, and he thanked God that it wasn’t his pants that needed altering, your close proximity making it hard for him to think. But somehow, he managed, “Uh, yeah. It’s been exactly twenty years.”

Looking up at him, you smiled the sweetest smile, your eyes looking strangely humbled that he knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. And it did nothing to ease the building flutters in his chest. He was a grown man, and a few minutes in your presence had him acting like an awkward teenager again. Arthur’s thoughts were a mess, scrambling to find something else to say, “So, ah, how long you been workin’ here?”

Biting your lip, you looked at the ring on your finger, before answering, sadness gathering in your eyes and voice, “Since my husband left for France.”

Arthur wanted to kick himself for asking, needing no more explanation to realise your husband did not return. And his heart broke for you. The thought of you hurting, in any shape or form, made him uneasy, made him want to reach out and comfort you. Placing a hand to your arm, he gave it a gentle squeeze. No words needed to be exchanged, you knew what he was trying to say.

With a small nod, you smiled softly, distracting yourself by getting back to the task at hand, making a few quick adjustments with your pins and measuring tape. Seemingly satisfied, you took a step back to make a full inspection, announcing quietly, “That should do it.”

Slipping the jacket from his shoulders, you placed it over your arm before fixing the collar of his shirt, your fingertips creating a trail of goosebumps when they brushed along his neck, and that was when he knew he was in trouble. Just one touch against his bare neck and all those buried teenage feelings came rushing back, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. Never to be suppressed again. And he knew himself well enough to realise that if he didn’t act on those feelings today, he was going to end up with a whole god damned wardrobe full of swanky suits. When what he really wanted was you.

Breaking through his trainwreck of thoughts, you touched his elbow, your eyes searching for something in his, “Arthur, this will only take me ten minutes… will you wait? Or” You paused, your expression changing the slightest bit, “Or did you want to come back tomorrow?”

With a deep breath, Arthur cleared his throat, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the fact they were trembling. “Ah, yeah, I can wait.” Feeling sick to the stomach, he shuffled on his feet, taking his hands out to run them through his hair, before returning them to his pockets, “Um, when do you knock off from here?” Clearing his throat again, Arthur worked hard to keep eye contact, fuck you were the loveliest thing he had ever seen. “I mean, if you want to, we could catch up… I could take you out for dinner or… or somethin.”

You answered with a smile. It was so sweet and warm, and genuine. And he dared to hope that just maybe you weren’t going to turn him down. With his heart beating in his throat, he waited for your reply. It was just a few fleeting moments, a few short moments that felt like an eternity. But your answer came, and he could barely believe his ears. “Yes, Arthur. Thank you. Dinner or somethin’ would be lovely.”

[call-sign-shark]

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

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

Words: 6.7k

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

Notes:

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

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

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

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

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

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

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

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

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

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

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

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

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

Boom. Boom. Boom.

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

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

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

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

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

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

Kill him. Kill him now.

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

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

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

The baby.

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

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

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

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

What the hell had just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm?"

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

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

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

"Oh yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

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

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

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

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

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

"Arthur!"

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

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

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

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

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

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

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[soleilceirinen]

Little Girl Blue (Arthur Shelby x barmaid!reader).

Summary: you work as a barmaid at the Garrison. One day you find Arthur drawing something and get curious.

Warning: none.

A/N: English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes.

MASTERLIST (Cillian Murphy) - PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST

You had started working as a barmaid at the Garrison a few months before the Shelby brothers returned from France. 

At first, the idea of quitting crossed your mind but you had no other option and needed the job. You had to take care of your little brother, it was just you and him. You had practically raised him since your mother passed away in childbirth and after your father went to France at the beginning of the war to never come back. The boy was all you had left.

Once the Shelby brothers returned, your situation changed. You stopped having problems with some clients, mostly drunk men, just because you were a young woman. Deep down, you had the suspicion that the Peaky Blinders had something to do with the whole situation. Not that it bothered you, now you could walk alone at night and no one would dare look in your direction in the wrong way if they wanted to keep their eyes.

Out of the three of them, Arthur was your favourite. Sometimes you wanted to hold him in your arms like a child and whisper to him  that everything was alright. Others, when he was high or drunk, or who knows, you avoided him as much as possible. But he always treated you well, and more than once you had caught him gawking at you from across the pub. 

Your next favourite was John, who always flirted with you. You weren’t sure if he was serious or if he flirted with everyone but you were sure of one thing, you didn’t want to become the mother of all his children. And then there was Tommy. He was quite scary, every time he directed his cold blue eyes at you, it made you want to run away and hide. Something about him screamed stay away. He usually ignored you and only spoke to you to order another bottle of whiskey or rum.

-

That afternoon the pub was quiet. You looked up when the door opened, to see Arthur. He smiled at you like he always did, running a hand through his hair as he headed to the small reserved room he always occupied with his brothers. After drying some glasses, you walked towards the room while drying your hands on your apron.

Arthur didn’t notice your presence, he was focused on what seemed to be drawing something on a piece of paper. From your position you couldn’t see what it was. You knocked on the door frame a couple of times, making the man look up. A look of panic crossed his face but it lasted a few seconds, as long as he folded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. 

"Excuse me Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to bother you. Would you like me to get you something to drink?" You asked quietly, surprised by his reaction. 

“Just call me Arthur, love. How many times have I told you?”

“Many times,” you whispered and smiled. He nodded and looked at his watch, frowning slightly. 

“It won't be long until they arrive, I think I'll wait for them.” You were about to leave to go back behind the bar when his voice made you turn around. “How is you brother?”

You paused for a second, considering your answer. “Sammy is fine, a few scratches.” Your brother and Finn were friends and they liked to get into trouble together. A couple of days ago they had returned home covered in mud and blood. Neither of them wanted to confess what they had been doing to end up in that state. “If they are such trouble makers now I don’t want to think how they are going to be in a few years.”

Arthur laughed and lit a cigarette. He agreed with you.

-

From behind the bar you could observe Arthur through the window that overlooked the small room. You approached slowly, without attracting attention. Once again, he was focused on drawing something, but what could he be drawing? He didn’t seem like that kind of person, as far as you knew, he was interested in boxing not art.

“I didn’t know that you liked drawing, Arthur.” You commented, causing him to fold the paper again and hide it from your view. 

“I don’t. As a kid I liked it, but I’m not really good at it now.” He excused himself. His cheeks were starting to turn pink. 

You leaned over the window and stretched an arm towards him, wiggling your fingers. “Can I see it?”

Arthur shook his head, a few strands of hair fell over his temples. You felt the impulse to reach and put it back in place with your hand, but didn’t. 

“It’s not great…”, he muttered sheepishly. 

You sighed. He reminded you of a little child. “Fine, you don’t have to show me. But even if it’s not great, if it makes you happy and you enjoy it, it is worth it.”

Arthur nodded and opened his mouth to talk when a familiar face appeared in the room and sat next to him. “What are you talking about with Y/N?”

“That’s not your business, John!” said Arthur, pushing his brother in the shoulder. They were playing, you thought. 

Someone clearing his throat brought you back to reality. On the other side of the bar was Thomas, staring at you with his usual icy eyes. 

“Sorry, Mr. Shelby. What can I do for you?”

He pointed to the bottles behind you and turned around to join his brothers. You quickly grabbed three glasses and one whiskey bottle and followed him. While you poured them the liquid you could feel John’s eyes roaming over your body and the familiar smell of their cigarettes. 

-

You left them alone to discuss whatever they had to do. It was almost time to close when they came out, Thomas nodded at you and left the Garrison. You continued cleaning the bar surface, tired after the whole day. 

“Hey, Y/N, do you want me to walk home with you?”, asked John, looking at you with shining eyes. 

You smiled politely at him and shook your head. “It’s alright, John. I can walk on my own, like every night.”

Then, Arthur appeared next to his little brother and patted his back. “Let’s go, John. She’ll be fine,” he said, turning to look at you directly in the eyes, “no one will dare touch her. By order of the Peaky Blinders. Good night, Y/N.”

“Bye, Arthur… and John.” 

-

After that, the only remaining space to clean was the small room. So you started with it, picking up the glasses and the empty bottle as well as emptying the ashtrays. When you tidied up the seats something caught your eye, slowly you got closer and reached for it. 

It was a folded piece of paper. You recognised Arthur’s handwriting. Y/N. 

With the tip of your finger you traced the letters before unfolding the paper. You couldn’t help but smile at the little drawing. It was rough and simple, definitely not great at all, similar to the way children draw. But it was recognizable, the tiny figure had your clothes, your apron and the same hairstyle you always wore to work. 

Arthur had drawn you, and even if it wasn’t a masterpiece, it warmed your heart. Carefully, you folded it again and put it in your cardigan pocket. 

Despite his fame, you could tell that Arthur was a good man, a man who had come back from France changed. But, of all the men who returned from the war, was there any who remained the same as the one who left?

[runnning-outof-time]

GIF blurb 3?

I’m gonna go with Arthur on this one!

Aunt Pol Knows Best

Arthur Shelby x Reader

“Am I the only one who sees what’s going on here?” Polly announced, her voice cutting through the rest of the conversations that were happening, “I mean, hello?!” Some of the eyes that were now focused on her then followed her hand as it gestured towards the two people she was talking about.

Everyone was now focused on Arthur and (Y/N), who’d swear up and down that they hated each others guts if you’d ask them. But no one was asking at the moment, and between all the laughing and subtle touches going back at forth between them it didn’t quite look like they hated each other.

In fact, a passerby would probably think the exact opposite.

“They’re probably ready to rip each others hair out,” Ada commented, sounding half-interested.

“I’m surprised they’ve been sitting together that long,” John chimed in with his own comment.

The topic was shoved aside then, the others going back to what they’d been conversing about previously. Polly kept her eyes on the two.

“You’ll find out out soon enough when they come tellin’ you they’re together,” she said to herself as she brought a glass up to her lips, “Aunt Pol always knows best when it comes to these things.”

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