#Isaiah x Finn

[youraveragebtsstan]

📢 Calling All Finn Shelby & Isiah Jesus Stans To The Front, Please! 📢

After a tiresome scour of the internet for any Isiah/Finn Fics, I've decided to write one myself- specifically 2:

One will be a short drabble where Finn and Isiah gets a little naughty after Isiah introduces Finn to a new drug from overseas. And the other will be a chapter fic that takes place 2 years post-series where Finn and Isiah gets reacquainted eventually leading to more.

I'm deliberately leaving out the juicy bits in case one of you rats tries to steal my idea, however, I did want to share just in case anyone wanted to save this post that way once I'm done with either one, I'll update on here.

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P.S: I refuse to believe no one else can see what I see when these two are on screen .... Ughhh 😩😣

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎞️“Nice.”

[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme

Thomas Shelby x fem! german! soldier! oc

summary: Thomas and his brothers returned from war alive but scarred for live. Just when the memories start to fade and normality returns to Small Heath, a young woman with pierced upper ears appeared. She came for a reason to Small Heath, to take revenge for what was done to her during the war. How far is she wiling to go to reach her goal? What role will the youngest of the Shelby brothers play in what is to come?

includes: SMUT 18+, age-gap, mention of death, mention of gore, mention of SA, mention of war

parts:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

Me, after randomly quoting Alfie Solomons for the 257th time in a single day for no apparent reason:

#its not an obsession it's a way of life Treacle

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins Pt2

I was asked to do a part 2. So here it is!

Since Finn getting shot, YNs brothers have been even more protective than normal. She's finding it harder to see her boyfriend since Tommy has basically put her on house arrest. YN had been sneaking out during the night to meet Isaiah under the bridge by the cut. Then one day Isaiah asked YN to marry him, she of course said yes, but there's no way her brothers would allow that. So they made the decision to run off, with the help of Finn since he's the only one not to try and control YN's life. Now they're returning home, YN hoping her brothers don't go mad and Isaiah hoping her brothers don't kill him.

"There they are" Finn smiles walking over to them as the get off the train "the happy couple. Welcome back" Finn envelopes his twin before shaking Isaiah's hand

"So how bad will it be?"

"Well Arthur probably will shout, Tommy might have both your heads and Ada well she'll find all of this hilarious" Finn says pulling away

"Looking forward to it" Isaiah sighs

"Just don't tell 'em that your havin a kid because I think that will give 'em a heart attack"

"Well I'm not not for a while"

"Good. You hear that Isaiah. I may approve of you and my sister but no babies us till your like 30" this makes Isaiah and I laugh.

We arrive at the Garrison where I know Finn has gathered everyone

"You ok?" Isaiah asks before we step foot into the pub

"Should be asking you that" I chuckle taking Isaiah's hand in mine "but yes. May as well get this over and done with" I take a deep breath and open the doors immediately seeing it empty apart from my family sat at a large table. Everyone looks at us walking in

"Where the fuck have you been YN?" Arthur yells slamming his drink down

"Let the girl sit down first" Ada says, I give her a little smile in reply. I drag Isaiah over to the table and take a seat next to Polly. Tommy just stares at me while Arthur drinks. Michael sits smoking a cigarette looking between Tommy and I

“So” tommy finally speaks “want to tell us where you were?”

“Errm ok so” I play with my ring nervously under the table “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would go mad”

“Spit it out” Arthur grunts

“Isaiah and I got married” I quickly say

“You bloody what?!” Arthur yells

“Finn did you know?”

“Yes, but Tom….”

“You went behind my back”

“I warned you Tommy. I told you Isaiah and I would get married one day with or without your permission”

“Are your pregnant?” Micheal asks

“No I’m not bloody pregnant”

“Then why marry so young”

“Maybe because they love each other” Ada says in my defence, but Tommy scoffs

“They’re kids”

“I’m 21 Tommy. I’m an adult I know what I’m doing” I yell at my brother

“No you don’t YN! What if he fucks another woman? What if he hurts you? He’s going to break your heart. Fuck YN I know what men his age do, hell men my age fuck around while married”

“Just ‘cause you all cheated on your wife’s doesn’t mean Isaiah will”

“Ok I think we need to calm down” aunt Polly tries

“No you know what this was a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed in London maybe I should have made you think I was dead because clearly you’d prefer that than me being married and happy!” I yell one last time “come on Is we’re going” I stand up pulling Isaiah with me. We begin walking out when Isaiah stops, turning around to face my brothers

“You know, I actually really love YN. I respect her as a person, she’s my equal and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and provide for her and hopefully our kids in the future. I know YN will want you all apart of that, but I guess it’s your choice” Isaiah places his arm around my waist as we walk out of the garrison

“Thank you Is”

“Always”

I groan getting out of bed after hearing multiple knocks on the door and Polly shouting for me. Isaiah and I have been staying with Polly before we try and find our own home. I wrap my dressing gown around my body and make my way downstairs when I see Tommy and Arthur stood at the door

“What do you want?” I ask folding my arms

“You were right” I raise my eyebrows at Tommy. He never apologises

“Continue”

“You told me you would marry him”

“We’re just worried about you” Arthur finally says “we don’t want you hurt. Your our little sister. The baby of the family”

“I’m not a baby anymore. Neither is Finn. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe but I can handle myself and now I have Isaiah, well I guess I’ve always had him. I’m happy and I promise if Isaiah ever does anything to hurt me I will tell you”

“Can we come in?” Tommy asks

“Best ask Poll. I’ll go and get dressed and get Isaiah up”

“Just promise me 1 thing… no babies yet. I don’t think I can handle that as well”

“Ok” I chuckle responding to Tommy.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Nicknames

Thomas Shelby:

Darling- 9/10, Uses it pretty often and loves to see how people react to such a cold person using such warmth in his tone only towards you.

Sweetheart- 10/10, Only used in front of family or yourself but uses it the most out of anything.

Dear- 7/10, Uses it when he's trying to butter you up or is trying to get your attention, but it slips without his thinking about it much.

Arthur Shelby:

Sweetheart- 8/10, No matter how hard up he is, he loves being soft for you with a kind touch it makes him feel better about everything he does.

Love- 1000/10, Uses it ALL THE TIME and loves making it known you belong to him no matter who’s around he’s saying it.

Little one- 6.5, Uses it when he just wants to prove he's older than you or if you're arguing with each other never really means ill will with it.

John Shelby:

Doll- 8/10, He’s so playful with you and loves having fun with you on his arm, but he also just loves showing you off.

Kitten- 6.8/10, Uses it when it's just you two alone but loves seeing reactions to it most importantly yours.

Darling- 8/10, Uses it anywhere and everywhere no matter who's around you both he loves seeing the reaction from you when he says this.

Ada Shelby:

Dearest- 9/10, She's just so soft and cute for this life and she just wants to be happy with you.

My love- 7/10, Loves to call you this and see your reaction but mainly calls you this in private.

Sweetie- 9/10, Uses it without thinking and even around others, but she just thinks it's a cute name for a cute person.

Finn Shelby:

Doll- 6.3/10, Uses it in front of others but mainly to seem tough like the other guys in his family or friends.

My Princess/Prince- 8/10, Adores this nickname for you but does save it for when it's just the two of you or if he really needs your attention.

Angel- 8/10, Took him some time, but will use this one out and about in front of whoever as well and thinks it's true.

Polly Gray:

Darling- 7.5/10, Uses it and doesn't care who is around when she calls it by this mainly because she thinks it's cute for you.

Pet- 9/10, Used it before you were together and still uses it even after you both got together.

Dragostea mea- 10/10, Loves being sweet and tender with you while speaking in Romanian to you but chooses to use this in private so it's special.

Micheal Gray:

Beloved- 7/10, This is how he introduces you to others or how he describes you to people not caring if it's used in private or public.

Baby- 2945602/10, Smug bastard says it with a smirk as well, mainly uses it in public but simply doesn't care and will just say it so casually towards you.

Honey- 5.5/10, Only ever uses it in private since he doesn't want others to see him so soft for you but also wants you to know how appreciative he is for you.

Isaiah Jesus:

Kitten- 20/10, He's so playful about it and mainly uses it in public and will make sure everyone knows he's talking to you.

Sweets- 1000/10, Loves seeing your reaction to this one but also doesn't care if used in private or public but will also use this trying to butter you up.

Angel Face- 9/10, Mainly used in private but also doesn't know how exactly this became a nickname for you all he knows is he enjoys saying this to you.

Bonnie Gold:

Honey- 9/10, Mainly used to get your attention and will use it on public not caring how anyone perceives him.

Angel- 7/10, Also used in public around others still not caring what they think but he thinks it's the cutest thing to call you.

Other half- 20/10, Only uses it in private with you so it can stay special for you both and only used it in public when you both got married.

Alfie Solomons:

Sweetling- 7/10, Uses it in private when just to both but also not as a serious nickname for you he uses it playfully.

Snookums- 20/10, Uses it playfully as well but also in public, making sure everyone knows he's talking to you.

Yaffe- 100/10, Uses it in mostly private but if he's busy and not thinking he'll use it in public but mainly enjoys saying it to you during any moment he can.

(Dragostea mea) in Romanian means my love

(Yaffe) in Hebrew means beautiful

[peaky1wh0re]

I can take em all (not in a fight)

[lil-bitchy-bride]

Hotties 😍😍

[ginerva-mollyweasley]

“you have nothing to prove finn, you have nothing to prove”

FINN SHELBY → my top 50 fictional characters [50/50]

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[zablife]

Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy

John x female reader

Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.

Warnings: language, mention of smut

🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.

"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.

💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.

❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.

🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"

"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.

"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"

💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.

"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.

❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."

"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.

"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.

"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.

🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."

💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"

"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."

❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.

"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.

"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

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@mgcldydrms

@mythos-writes

@look-at-the-soul

[youraveragebtsstan]

Serious question here guys:

Is Isiah/Finn (from Peaky Blinders) a thing?

Like, I remember watching Peaky Blinders for the second time and based on the few interactions we see between them from S3-S6 being like, "Hmm... This could be something."

I've found a few Fics on AO3 and tried to find some scraps here on Tumblr but alas I have failed. Am I looking in the right place? Or does anyone know where I can go to find like-minded girlies?

I've been stewing in a couple pieces of headcanon (and probably will put it out there) but just wanted to know if I was alone.

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys react when you tell them you don’t want children (and they do) -> headcannon📽️🎞️

Massive TW tried to make it time accurate, ie. man gets his way girl is silenced

Tommy🪖

🪖He almost thought he hadn’t heard you. He was driving you both back from a family event in which his nieces and nephews had attended, momentarily leaving you throughout the evening to bond with the young children and get you accustomed to the toddler-side of motherhood, subconsciously assuming that you winked be pregnant with your first by the beginning of autumn this year.

🪖“So, did you enjoy spending time with the children this evening?” He asked, flicking the dead bluntness of his cigarette out of the window, satisfied with the nicotine intake he had received. “Yes they’re lovely, parents must have their hands full.” You say, agreeing with his comments on their admirability.

🪖He put his hand quite far up your thigh and smirked, taking his eyes away from the dirt road momentarily. “When would y’ like to start trying for one of us own?” He asked, expecting excitable gasps but all he could hear was a deafeningly tense silence as you almost wordlessly rejected his question.

🪖“Well?” He creased his brows. You looked away and out of the passenger reader “I hadn’t put much thought into it.” You speak small and quiet, presumably nervous to hear his response. “Well we can start trying as soon as we get home, how’s that sound?” He suggested, lightly tapping your thigh to which you squirmed in the leather seat uncomfortably. “Tommy I don’t think I want children.” The car was suddenly lurched sideways and you were grateful the road was private so your husband was unable to cause a crash. “You what?” He asked, car now stationary and his body turned towards you; understandably dominating the situation.

🪖“I don’t want to be a mother.” You say again, voice a bit more quiet this time but still trying to maintain your confidence in your decision. Tommy examined your face to try find some humour, that you were joking with him. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mother?” “Well Ada gave me her child and I just didn’t want to hold it” “her” he corrects. “Her. I don’t have any maternal instincts I felt nothing, no admiration, no desire, no want. All I wanted was for Ada to take her baby away.” You tell him, spinning the wedding ring on your finger and biting your lips nervously. “No one knows what to do, no one knows how to handle children” he says, assuming you’re just scared “it’s normal to be scared or apprehensive. Heard that’s just a part of parenthood” he restarted the engine.

🪖“Thomas-” “we’re trying for our child when we get home and that’s final.”

Alfie🧸

🧸You owned a bakery; where you and Alfie had met - he’d walked in off the street one day and surprisingly, you must’ve been the only person in Camden not to recognise him. You’d simply greeted him with a large grin, excited to get a customer while he chatted with you and admired the adrenaline fuelled step as you dashed around your little shop - enjoying the appearance of your youth, definitely him being notable few years your senior. He’d ordered some treats, you even had some treats to offer Cyril who you’d asked wait outside for hygiene reasons. “This, yeah, this thing love, it’s bloody lovely it is… hands of an angel you have” he’d charmed, praising your baking abilities as he enjoyed your bakes. Admiring the blush on your cheeks as he serenaded you with words.

🧸He’d left that day leaving you with a sum heftier than the goods had actually been valued at and promised to return. And return he did, every day without fail at 10 in the morning to treat himself and his pup, offering reiteratively to teach you to make some Jewish deserts as the religious population in London was growing. Until the day you’d agreed, both in the back while you were simultaneously running out to greet customers and back to Alfie. You were kneading dough when you heard the bell chime “you’ve really gotta get your fingers in love, yeah, I’ll show you yeah” and he’d towered over you from behind you guide your hands through the mixture. Then a baby’s cry. “I’ll be back.” You say, hurrying out to greet your guest.

🧸A woman stood with a newborn in pram, looking over your selection. The baby wailed. “Can I help you lovely?” You asked with a gentle smile, not noticing Alfie leant against the doorway behind you, sleeves rolled up and caked in flour as he watched you engage with the customer. “Yes, I’d like-” the baby cried louder “erm” she was evidently frantic, opting to pick the baby up and try to sooth him.

🧸“Oh im sorry i cant think straight.” She apologised, cringing at the noise from the baby. You inhaled, not believing what you were about to do. “How about you pick something, and eat it in and I’ll hold him for you to give you a rest.” You suggested and he nodded almost too quickly. Choosing a dessert and you swapped the sweet treat for money and the babe.

🧸You bounced the young child on your hip as he cooed, enamoured by the new face and was now too distracted to cry. The mother relaxed into a chair in front of the counter and savoured the moment of peace, eventually taking the sleeping boy back and leaving incredibly grateful, Alfie almost unable to contain his love protruding from his chest as you turned back around to continue baking. “Back to work” you joked, walking past him to continue on the dough.

🧸“You’d be a great mummy, y’know sweetness?” He muttered, suggestively. You huffed slightly. “Perhaps” your lips pursed and he stopped you kneading. “What’s ’perhaps’ mean, poppet?” He asked you. “Well I just don’t think I want to be a mum.” The man laughed, assuming you were joking. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mum? I’m getting old now treacle, I’ve not much time left to have little ones and I’d want them to be yours.” He said, holding your hands in his as you refuse to meet his pleading eyes. “Maybe. Not yet.” You mumble, trying to return to work.

Arthur🍺

🍺Arthur had Finn on his shoulders, drunk off his head as he happily paraded his young brother around the Garrison as the party of success roared, Arthur having one too many to drink and now easily excitable.

🍺Finn was happily playing along, bouncing on his brother’s shoulders and clapping to the music drowning out in the background, enjoying the attention he was receiving from the majority of the pub’s inhabitants. Arthur saw you watching the ordeal, bounding over to you to plant a smiley kiss on your lips and you reach up to ruffle Finn’s hair, hidden under your husband’s cap.

🍺“Could have one just like this, what d’ya say love?” He asks, grinning ear to ear but expression faltering when he saw the distaste written all over your own face. He gently took Finn off his shoulders who ran over to John, who processed to spin the body around - scolded by his own wife for nearly pulling the undeveloped youth’s arms off his body.

🍺“Our own little one?” Arthur suggests. You shake your head, small smile. “Not when you keep coming home in a state like this.” You say and his face drops entirely now, sobering up enough to understand the ultimatum you were offering him.

🍺“I will not have children when you come home every day too drunk to think. I will not let our child see his mother carry his father up the stairs because he forgot how to use his own two legs.” You say, pecking your husband’s cheek and offering a disappointed smile before you wondered off to find Polly.

🍺Arthur pondered your words for a moment, before pulling you and grabbing you back towards him, falling to his knees as he promised for stay sober, to get off the drink, he just wanted you to bear him a child.

John🥃

🥃You and John had just gotten married, a marriage you were both unaware of until you were knelt at the alter but still - the two of you had just gotten married and the wedding bells were playing. Neither of you could say you were annoyed with the outcome of this arrangement, neither finding the other unattractive and prepared to attempt to progress in this diversion of your lives.

🥃The reception was a grand festivity, dancing, drinking, celebrating and toasting to the pact and ceasefire between two rivalling families with conflicts decades old. You and John had your dance, him whispering sweet nothings into your ears as if he’d known you all him life and you’d just giggled and blushed and required his advanced with a giddy look upon your faces - like two teenagers in love.

🥃As the evening died down and you’d been escorted to your shared accommodation to last you the night, you finally had a moment of peace and clarity to be able to come to terms with the events of the day, after all, a mere 24 hours ago you were a single maiden merely dreaming of your eventual wedding to a man you’d become enamoured with someday, not a gangster peace pact, but there you stood; having assistance unzipping your dress from your husband John Shelby.

🥃He kissed along your shoulders, to your neck, spinning you around to eventually kiss your lips and continue to consummate your marriage. “How many kids you thinkin’ the ? Five? Ten?” He asked as you lay naked in his arms, a hand drawing gentle cyphers into your skin. “None.” You whisper and his drawings halt and he pulls away from you slightly to be able to look right at you. “That’s not gonna work w’me love. Wanna be dad.” He said, studying the expression on your face. “It’s not that I don’t want to be a mum,” you say - averting his gaze but he caught your chin and drew you back to be unable to look anywhere but him. “But,” he encouraged you to continue. “But my grandmother died in childbirth, as did my own mother. And my sister is coming to the end of her pregnancy and it isn’t looking positive for her either. I don’t want to leave my children without their mummy and my husband without a wife.” You almost whisper, voice cracking as tears gathered in your eyes. John drew you in to offer you a tight and reassuring embrace. “Is it hereditary?” He asked after a while and felt your head shake against his bare torso. “I don’t know. Either genetic or just bad treatment.” You stay in silence for a moment.

🥃“But I’d be willing to try if being a dad means that much to you.” You say, peering up to your new husband whose eyes soften at the admittance. “Well I’ll tell you what, if it was bad treatment no woman of mine would lift a finger while pregnant. You’d stay in bed and I’d cater to your every need, carry you to wherever you need to go. Pay for the best doctor and the best hospital to make sure my woman and my child both leave the hospital alive and well.” He leant his forehead against yours. “I’ll take good care of you if you let me.”

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie always wanted to be a father. Be a dad. Raise his children the true gypsy way with his wife by his side - let them in the audience when they’re old enough to appreciate his fights, falsely tussle with them and let them win as he begged them for mercy and heard their victorious giggled. Oh he couldn’t wait for the day you’d bear his umpteenth child. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

🥊And when he joined the Blinders, he’d fallen head over heels for the young florist who worked tirelessly across the road from the Garrison, carrying Arthur home as Harry locked up shop and he’d still see you working on a bouquet you’d needed for a client the following day. He admired your work ethic and the old fashioned part of him couldn’t help but imagine you working as furiously in a kitchen while you tickled your children for interrupting your cleaning. You’d make a fine wife in his eyes.

🥊And against no wish of his own, one day Isaiah had forced the young lad into the shop with a laugh and you’d peered up at him form over the counted, cutting the final stem off of the roses you were working on before asking how you could be of assistance and you’d be lying if your breath hadn’t caught in your own throat, also - seeing him to-ing and fro-ing from the Garrison with the rest of those Blinder lads and finding his look rather endearing.

🥊“How can I help you?” You asked with a stressed but gentle expression on your face. “How much do you make an hour?” He asked. “I beg your pardon?” You retort, eyebrows creasing at the nerve of the man and you began to question whether your initial judgement was correct.

🥊“Sorry, no, I meant how much would it cost me to steal you for a few hours for a date without you loosing profit?”

🥊And the rest was history.

🥊He’d taken you to his fights, to restaurants, to his home with the travellers, even to a couple of family meetings as you’d already been acquainted with the Shelby men buying apology flowers for their spouses for coming home battered and bruised with no contact for a few days.

🥊It was a Tuesday, business was slow but you still had a few orders to finish and being not-bust himself, Bonnie was there to offer a helping hand to his lady. The door chimed but you couldn’t see anyone, confused; you leant over the counter to see a young boy, no older than seven stood there. “Please may I have a flower for my mummy? She’s very sad.” The boy pouted. You hummed. “What flower would you like to give your mummy?” The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins, a button and some lint “whatever flower this may get me, if you please miss.” You nod and hand the boy a small bouquet of daisies with a bow to hold them together. The lad grinned and thanked you, offering you his pocket change and you shook your head. “All you owe me is your mummy a smile.” You say and he promises, running back out of the shop.

🥊Bonnie came up and hugged you from behind, leaving a long kiss on your cheek. “You’re awfully good with children, darling girl” he compliments and you scoff. “Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes and go back to your previous activity. And Bonnie’s dream world came crashing down around him as he realised your intentions.

🥊“What? Don’t want little ones?” He asked, keying as to why you’d be unable to offer him an heir. “No because I can’t deal with sick, I can’t deal with whining, I can’t deal with crying and I can’t even take care of myself for crying out pigs. How do I take care of a child?” You shake you head, as if the man was daft.

🥊“But with our child, it would be different.” He says and you look up at him noting the sincerity and desperation in his look. “Maybe when we’re married or something.” You disregard. He shakes his head. “Why not now?” “I have a flourishing business and I’m not just leaving it all to be a wife and mother and traveller.” You say, inhaling sharply and he frowns. You will come around eventually. He bargains with himself mentally.

Isaiah♟️

♟️You and Isaiah were upstairs in the Shelby household, getting a few moments of blissfulness together before the rest of your family returned. Especially your twin Finn, who was still unknowing about the blossoming relationship between you and Isaiah.

♟️Isaiah was kissing all up your body, a starved man delving hungrily at his first meal in weeks, leaving piercing bite-sized bruises in places for his eyes only. Places he’d see when he’d draw you a bath after you’d finished doing the Devil’s bidding in your frequenting sinful tango.

♟️The boy thrust into you at a desperate pace, eager to fuck you out in a matter of minutes and prove just how desperate you could be for him, just how quickly he could make you cum under the pressure from his cock and his thumb rubbing quick circles around your clit, mouth silenced by his own as he kissed you passionately.

♟️He pulled back, clawing his fingers into your hips as though you were trying to get away from him - but if anything you were trying to get closer, go reach that release you so desperately craved. “Going to fuck my baby into you. Fill you full with my child.” He promised, thrusting deep and skilfully. You shook your head. “No Isaiah.” His pace didn’t falter but he looked up at you, grabbing your jaw and squeezing your cheeks as if fucking you dumb. “No?” “No.” You say between smushed cheeks. “Don’t want no kids.”he chuckled. “Too late.” And he continued working on his promise, and you were too high on pleasure to argue any further but when he came inside you it seemed all to real, his hand over your mouth to stifle your cries as you came all over him and him inside you.

♟️“Isaiah I don’t want children.” You say in tears, trying to catch your breath but his weight on top of you was too much and he was still buried too deep, desperate not to waste a drop.

♟️“You’ll bare my children whether you like it or not, doll.” He says, stroking your cheek. “Then they’ll have to let me marry you, won’t they?”

Michael🎱

🎱Michael loved parading his fiancée. He’d proposed in a place so public, so romantic, so endearing… how could you ever say no to your charming Michael?” The rock on your finger was substantial despite the promise you’d made him make to not waste his money on some piece of jewellery, but he’d argued that piece of jewellery showed what was his so he’d have to make his as obvious as possible.

🎱And one afternoon he’d found himself free from any Blinder work, able to take you out and dined you at the finest afternoon tea he could find, drinking as his hand lay comfortably on your thighs as you engaged in wholesome chatter about your future together. Discussing a home in the country, him leaving the family business or at least doing the work needed to be done in the green hills of the Peak District.

🎱“-and you’ll make a lovely mother-” he continued but you stopped him “wait, mother?” You cut him off and he nods, nearly confused. “Well yes. Once we get married you’ll leave your job and I’ll lay for that pretty little house you want and you’ll cook and clean and you’ll bare my children.” He instructed, as if reeling off some old fashioned fairytale his adoptive mother had told him of as a child.

🎱“Michael I don’t want to be a mother.” You say, nearly afraid of him. “Well we can start small. Have one and then we can decide how many more we want from there.” “And if I don’t want more” “then we’ll settle with a son. Raise him.” “And what if it’s a daughter?” You ask. “See.” He grits his teeth. “Already thinkjng about gender. You obviously care. You’re just scared.” “Michael-” “you are my woman. You will bare my children and do your duty as a lady. End of discussion.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn was head over heels in love with you since you’d started working at the Garrison that one evening in late June. Harry had hired you after you’d lied about your age, and at this point you’d guessed he’d figured it out by now: he was a smart man, but you’d ran away from home and this job was the only form of income or stability you had supporting you and this crumbing life you were trying to withhold. Well, that and Finn’s arm constantly around your waist - ignoring your numerous rejections until eventually managing a date with you.

🎞️The young Shelby smirked at you from across the room, enjoying the sight of you limping around the bar - sore from last night antics. You were staying with the Shelby family, in Finn’s room, where he was determined to take your virginity and bed you in some dark, twisted fantasy. Pump you with his heir so you couldn’t deny him once more, plus the thought of you plump with a child was mouthwatering and he couldn’t wait to see it.

🎞️You’d started the evening quickly, desperate to rip each other’s garments of and clothes pray after you’d sinned to the devil, advocating for his anti-christian tango as Finn fucked you fast into the sheets. You’d done it iteratively, falling asleep only to be woken up by the boy kissing down your back only to lazily thrust into you again with tired eyes. He’d done it three or four times, until the morning when you’d woken up, his cock still buried deep in your velvety walls, a mixture of both of yours productions pooling onto his bed as he tried to act as a cork to not waste a drop of his productivities.

🎞️So he thoroughly enjoyed the sight, and the falsely-annoyed side glances you’d shoot his way when you were presented with the opportunity.

🎞️It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see new faces in the garrison, well they came every day; whether they be travellers passing through Birmingham or illegal businessmen there to drink and tussle before being thrown out. It was a nightly occurrence. And you expected nothing less this evening.

🎞️It was eight o’clock in the evening on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffling in other than the Shelby family who had already been seated an hour prior. “What’re you drinking?” An unidentifiable voice asked and you spun go see a man you didn’t recognise, age substantially your senior as he grinned rotted teeth at you.

🎞️“I’m not drinking. I’m serving, however may I offer you Shelby Gin?” You offer, trying to be polite. “I’ll take whatever you’d recommend. I’ll have you if you’re on the menu.” You grimace and poor him a glass, attempting to move on with your shift, unbeknownst to your dance partner seething with rage at the conversation and seeing red fury at a man trying to converse with a Shelby reserved girl.

🎞️He’d asked for a refill, and when you were topping up his drink, he’d reached across the bar to grab your bosom. And before you’d managed to fathom the situation, Finn had lurched across the room and tackled the man, who was laying on the floor clutching his bloodied, broken nose adjacent to Finn who’s knuckles were bruised and dirtied. “How dare you fucking touch her? Touch my pregnant missus? I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’piece of shit.” And after a few more rough punches and kicks the man was kicked out into the blistering cold of a harsh Birmingham winter, Finn rounding the bar to hug you and calm down slightly.

🎞️Soon everyone was congratulating your pregnancy and asking when the wedding was and after a while you’d managed to pull Finn to the side and question these praises “why did you say I was pregnant? I’m not. And even if I was you know my views, I’m not keeping it.” “I had Polly read your leaves when you had tea this morning. Fucked ya again and again to make sure of it. You ain’t leaving me when you’re pregnant and you certainly ain’t killing my child.” He said, kneeling to kiss your stomach with an evil glint in his eye.

[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme, Part 1

“Have you heard the news Tommy?”, Michael asked as he stood besides his cousin in front of the Canal. “What news Michael”, Thomas asked rather coldly, starring into the distance with a grim look painting his features as his hands were in the pockets of his pants. Michael had his arms crossed over his broad chest. “A girl arrived on the trains this morning.” “And? A lot of people arrive on the trains.” “A German girl.” “So? Germany lost the war, its people want a live worth living. They have better chances outside of their own country.” “A girl that claims to know you.” “A lot of people claim to know me.” “She said she’s here to kill you. Bold words considering that she’s in the heart of your city. You control all of Birmingham and Small Heath. Nothing happens without you knowing, no person steps foot into Birmingham without you knowing. She’s been claiming to want to kill you since she’s set foot on English soil. And until now, nobody lived this long while claiming to want your death. What are you planning?” “During war-times I did things I’m not proud of Michael. I did dark things, very dark things.” “So you’ll let her go around, possibly armed to kill you?” “If I die, I die. I could drop dead any given second Michael, if she’s wanting to kill me then I want to know why I’ve done to make her curse me through several countries.”

“So we shouldn’t deal with her?” “No.”

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ here?”, Harry asked as he saw the girl stepping through the doors of the Garrison, “I’m looking for work. Are you in need of a barmaid?” “The last one didn’t end so well-“ “Am I the last barmaid you had? No.” “Look, all I’m saying is that working here in Small Heath is dangerous on its own but here in the Garrison? You must be suicidal.” “I have nothing to lose, if I get killed I might as well with a few pounds in my pockets.” Harry smiled to himself, “You’re brave, I could use some help around here, just gotta talk with the owner first.” “You’re not the owner?” “Not anymore. This shack here belongs to the Blinders.” “The Blinders?”

Y/N was working behind the bar, pouring drinks, mostly beer and whiskey as the windows for the snub opened a young man around her age faced her, taken aback by seeing her he took a minute to compose himself. “What can I bring you?”, she asked, rolling her r quite heavily as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Whiskey, scotch.” “How many glasses?”, she asked as she grabbed the bottle and faced the young man before grabbing the glasses, “Seven.” “Seven glasses, then you’ll need two bottles”, Y/N spoke with a small smile as she grabbed a second bottle of the whiskey before placing them by the window-sill as Harry spoke up behind her, “Don’t worry charging them. It’s on the house.” Y/N nodded as she gave the boy behind the window a small nod, “Have fun.”

“Who’s that?”, John asked, opening one of the whiskey bottles as Michael had sat everything down onto their table, “Seems like a new barmaid”, Michael answered and Arthur nodded, “She came in today, asked Harry for a job. He told me she was persistent about it.”

“What’s her name?”, Michael asked Arthur who had already emptied his glass of whiskey, going for a second one, “Y/N or something like that.” “Y/N doesn’t sound particularly English. Where’s she from?” “Germany, I’m assuming”, Arthur answered Thomas’ questions and the second oldest Shelby looked at Michael who had stilled. “You think that’s her Michael?” “You tell me Tommy, you know who enters your city.” “The bloody hells going on?”, Scudboat asked as he glanced at his boss. “We’ve got a little German lady in Small Heath swearing she’ll kill me”, Thomas spoke nonchalantly as he lit himself a cigarette, John spoke up after wiping his nose, “And we’re just … not doing anything  ‘bout it?” “Why would we?”, Thomas asked, “She won’t kill me, how many people have tried to kill me now?” “Too many”, Arthur stated coldly and Thomas nodded, “And how many have succeeded?” At the silence in the snub Thomas took his whiskey glass into his hands, “Exactly.” “Still, the only two women in all of Birmingham daring to threaten you are aunt Pol and Ada”, Finn said, “It should stay like that. Only family, we should at least find that lady and give her a little scare.” “If you find her”, Thomas said calmly, “But where would be the fun in that, eh?”

A bit later the same girl entered the snub to take one of the whiskey bottles away, it was empty, the second one half-way empty, “Need more whiskey? Or beer?” “Whiskey, irish”, Thomas said sternly as he eyed the girl up and down, she wore her hair so that it covered the upper half of her right ear, the side-pony-tail flowing barely over her shoulder. “I’ll take a beer.” Scudboat said and Isaiah nodded, “Me too.” “Should I just bring a bucket?” “Do that”, Arthur said to the girl who gave a small smile and left the snub before entering it again roughly ten minutes later with the bucket of beer and the bottle of whiskey, “Apologies for the delay gentlemen, it’s a bit overflowing out there. Game day.”

“Are you German?”, John asked Y/N who stilled in her actions before looking at him with wide eyes, “The r gives me away, eh?” “Partially”, John stated, “Which part of Germany are you from?” “Austria”, the girl said with a small smile, “Not exactly Germany but-“ “But Austria fought against the British”, Thomas interrupted the girl who gave a shy nod, “But we lost, so who cares?”

“Did you lose someone in the war?”, Arthur asked, “Father, brother, uncle, cousins?” Y/N gave him a sad smile, “I never knew my father or my mother, or brother. I grew up with my uncle, and even he only took me in because I was his blood.” “Why’d you move here?”, Thomas asked and the girl quirked and eyebrow, “Is this an interrogation? I’m supposed to tell you all about me but don’t even know your name. Unfair.” Thomas just lit himself another cigarette, “Thomas Shelby. Those three over there are me brothers, Arthur the oldest, John my younger brother and Finn our baby brother. Then we’ve got Michael, he’s my cousin and Isaiah is Finn and Michael’s friend and my employee, Scudboat is one of my best employees. You know us now. So answer my question.” “I moved here for a better future. My uncle kicked me out when I turned eighteen, he’s a scientist, I’m not too interested in science, learnt just to make him happy.”

Y/N gave the men a smile before leaving the snub again, she couldn’t bear being in the same room as that man, as Thomas Shelby, but he hadn’t recognized her.

[heartcereql]

tommy shelby x finn's teacher!reader pt.3 || pt.2 , pt.1

you smoothed your dress for what felt like the millionth time that evening, running your fingers through the orange and golden fabric.

you stood outside the garrison, noise and light filtering from the inside. if one listened closely, a few tipsy men could be heard faintly singing to some even faintier orchestra music. but you were too lost on your thoughts to pay any mind to it. tommy's words reverberated in your head. wednesday evening. it appeared he was throwing quite a party inside the pub. weird, considering it was wednesday, but who were you to judge.

though the sky was darkening and the streetlights emitted very dim light, you glistened against the night. gold jewellery adorned your ears, neck, arms and fingers. you looked radiant. nevertheless, the fact that you were going to be seen only increased the bundle of nerves in your gut.

you tried to remind yourslef that this was just an invitation to a party at tommy shelby's pub, strictly that. it was by no means exclusive. but you knew better than to believe that. though it might come off as insignificant, it incapsulated something more. with thomas shelby it always did. even the most ordinary actions turned intimate and compelling.

after what felt like an eternity to you, you finally gathered the courage to walk the few steps that separated you from the pub and get in at once. a wave of heat washed over you as the temperature rose from inside. the music was louder, delicate and harmonical, with chattering everywhere.

you found yourself contemplating the beautiful ornaments of the garrison that fascinated you so much. the interior lights brought a glimmer to every corner. and then a particular glint caught your attention.

an ocean-colored depth, captured in a pair of piercing eyes, already familiar to you by now. but they didn't fail to draw you in every single time.

he was leaning against the bar, and he didn't even wait for a second to make his way towards you once he saw you.

"y/n" thomas called out as he approached you.

"hey" you greeted, cheeks rosy from the chilly weather. "how've you been? how's everything?"

"not bad, not bad. how 'bout you, things alright?" he replied, cautiously eyeing the way you glittered- beyond your accessories, there was a certain glow in your skin, silkness in your hair. and that dress fitted your figure perfectly.

"everything in order" you smiled, not missing the chance to take a good look at the man who had been plaguing your mind for the past few days. he had always felt like a mystery to you, but now you were looking forward to explore said mystery. "it's quite a party you've got in here"

"thought you'd like it" he said. he rather meant something along the lines of 'i wanted a desperate excuse to see you again', but he kept that to himself.

"i absolutely do. thank you for inviting me, the party looks lovely" you smiled his way, heart fluttering in your chest.

"it was all polly's doing" tommy admitted.

"polly?"

"my aunt" he replied, gesturing with his head to a more private room near the door.

he put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly as a welcome, but guiding you to the secluded room where his family and some of the peaky blinders were in.

he held the door open for you. inside sat two men who you recognized vaguely, arthur and john shelby. there were also a woman, a few men and-

"finn? hi!" you acknowledged your student, sitting at a corner, trying not to frown once you saw the beer in his hand.

the boy's eyes widened, his face flushing lightly.

"miss y/n, hello" he mumbled, too shy to look at you.

"isaiah, take the boys to the cut or somewhere, will ya?" arthur muttered to one of the men, who gave him a nod and took finn away to gather the rest of the younger boys.

"everyone, y/n y/l/n" tommy introduced, hand still on you as he guided you to a seat. "these gentlemen are my brothers, john and arthur; and my aunt, polly gray"

ah, polly gray. you took a careful glance at the elegant, classy lady, who exuded charm. yes, the party seemed proper of her.

"care for a dance?" tommy asked, leaning slightly towards you.

the two of you had exited the room a while ago, mingling with other people and enjoying some drinks.

you gaped at him for a moment, suddenly breathless and at a loss of words. you knew everybody would be watching, but your concerns went further than that. wasn't all this going too quickly? but also, weren't you enjoying every last bit of this?

"oh, i'm not sure, tommy, i-" you stuttered, trying to excuse your way out of it. though you had done your best to hide it, you had no clue on how to dance. "i don't dance..."

" 's okay" he reassured, a smile on his lips. "follow my lead, eh? you'll be alright."

you tried to refuse again, but tommy had already grasped your hand, gentle but firm, and was dragging you to where the people were mingling, dancing and enjoying themselves.

he didn't let go of your hand, placing it on his shoulder instead and putting his hand on your lower back, bringing you closer. his other hand clasped yours and rose it, as a slower piece began to play.

"just back and forth. easy, eh?" he guided your every step carefully, making sure you got how it went before falling into a rhythm.

you occupied your mind with keeping up with his steps, focusing on the music, avoiding instead thinking about the softness of his hand on the small of your back, about how you were so close you could see the freckles on his skin.

you soon got enhanced by the man dancing with you. the expensive cologne, the way he smiled down at you as encouragement, his finger rubbing circles faintly over the back of your hand. it all wrapped around you dreamily.

as the music came to an end, you met his gaze. maybe you shouldn't have, because you weren't able to look away. because, reflected on the captivating blue, were mirrored the same feelings your eyes spoke for you. and he realized that too.

without wasting any further second, he dragged you away from the people, exiting through the back door of the pub, taking you to another room, this one empty of people, poorly decorated.

you immediatly found yourself in tommy's arms again, fingers travelling his body as he leaned even closer.

you stayed like that for some instants, a silent allure settling down over you. his hands on your waist, yor hand on his cheek. taking in the other's presence, as if you were going to disappear at any second.

your mind was racing with worries. how even had you ended up in this situation?

"tommy, i-" you bit your lip, trying to find the words. "should we-"

suddenly his face was inches away from yours, noses brushing, breath fanning over the other's lips. the sudden closeness- even more than it had been before- left you wordless, and any doubt you still carried dissipated.

he said your name in no more than a whisper, as if asking for permission. you corresponded with an impatient nod, your hand upon his cheek caressing it slightly.

tommy's lips captured yours in a gentle and lasting kiss. the contact was delicate, his mouth careful on yours in a way you'd have never exoected of him. his grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer as the kiss deepened, slow but steady, as if you were savouring every moment.

his silky touch surprised tommy himself; he felt like he wanted to treasure you, keep you with him, too scared to let go. as the kiss fell into a more passionate pattern, he became aware of how fast his heart was beating, hammering in his chest at the scent of your hair, the sound of your erratic breathing. x

your hands found the collar of his shirt and grasped it adamantly, needily almost. your lips danced now to a perfect symphony. he tasted like whisky and cigarettes, and right now it felt like a banquet to you.

tommy broke the kiss for a mere second, face still close, just to admire how the dim lights traced your features, how your lipstick was faintly smeared, how your eyes fluttered open, how your breathing became needful in his abscence.

not being able to hold back longer, you pulled him into a kiss again, a much more heated one, and he complied, more than satisfied with the sight.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

taglist: @budugu ☆ @tatumrileyslover ☆ @stayaways-world ☆ @amberpanda99

[call-sign-shark]

The Month of Sin Masterpost

A masterpost for all the works that are related to the requests sent for event “Peaky Blinders Kinktober”.

If you want me to add you in the taglist so that you don’t miss the kinky and steamy stories, please comment or reblog this post. It’s even more important considering how Tumblr tends to mess with us lately.

Thank you again for your participation, you’re the best community ever and I hope I’ll do Justice to your fantasies.

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd @dreamy-caramel @lanadelreylover010 @anime-lover-forever-1127 @2pacl0ve

Day 1: BREATHE - Breathe With Me (Tommy x Reader)

Day 2: CUT - Cut Your Wings (Alfie x Reader)

Day 3: MARKED - Engraved in The Flesh (Finn x Reader)

Day 4: AFTER CARE with Finn

• with May

Day 5: ROPE BUNNY with Arthur

Day 6: DRUNK with Tommy

Day 7: BLINDFOLD with John

• with Aberama

Day 8: CREAMPIE with John

Day 9: PRAISE with Bonnie

Day 10: SIZE with Alfie

• with Luca

Day 11: POWER with Michael

Day 12: ORAL with Bonnie

Day 13: BREEDING with Alfie

Day 14: BLOOD with Tommy

Day 15: TAMED with Arthur

Day 16: DENIAL with Tommy

Day 17: DADDY with Michael

• with Aberama

• with Alfie

• with Arthur

Day 18: PUBLIC with John

Day 19: THREESOME with Tommy and ??

Day 20: LEASH with Arthur

Day 21: KNIFE with Isaiah

Day 22: STRIP with John

Day 23: OVERSTIMULATION with Tommy

Day 24: CAR with Tommy

Day 25: PUNISHMENT with John

Day 26: WORSHIP with Luca

Day 27: BEGGING with Tommy

Day 28: CORRUPTION with Arthur

Day 29: BLASPHEMY with Arthur

Day 30: AGE GAP - Tangled Desires