#arthur shelby fics

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Sleepless Nights

Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings:

soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.

Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.

The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.

As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.

Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.

“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.

She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”

Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.

“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”

Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.

She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”

Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”

He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”

Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."

He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."

He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."

She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.

“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.

His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.

Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.

His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.

Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.

A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.

She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.

He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"

She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."

Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."

He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."

She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."

They both stood there looking at each other.

"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."

He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."

She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."

Author’s Notes:

Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

I love your work I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So you are tommy daughter or the youngest Shelby sister and u are 2 years old

And Arthur or John or Finn is looking after u and u get sick and tommy’s not home at the moment so she just cries until he gets home no matter how hard the others try to console her and then when he gets home and he holds you stop crying and fell asleep hope that make sense

Hey love! Of course i can do this request for you!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR TRANSLATION OR POSTING ON A DIFFERENT SITE.

Summary: request above.

{Y/N}: Your name.

Word count: 1,023.

Once Finn was born, the Shelby clan felt like the family was complete, they hoped their parents would stop having children since they were barely looked after by them.

However, just under two years after Finn Shelby was born, [Y/N] Shelby entered the world. The second daughter of Arthur Shelby and youngest sister to the Shelby brothers.

Since she was born, she had a handful of health issues, ranging from constant illnesses to developmental delays. This caused her to look younger then she is and resulted in Polly becoming very cautious of going outside with the young girl. When [Y/N} was taken outside, Tommy and Polly would make sure she had on at least three layers.

However, the winter had been brutal on the young girls body, it had snowed for the first time in ten years in Birmingham, and like any other child {Y/N} wanted to go outside and play with the the playful swirling snowflakes coming down from the sky. Polly knew it wasn't safe but the young girl was growing and seeing snow in Birmingham was a rare occasion. She let {Y/N] go outside for ten minutes.

Two days later, Polly had regretted that decision. Polly had woken up that morning expecting the young girl to be awake in her bed waiting for her aunt to take her downstairs to make her breakfast. Instead Polly had found her niece still asleep curled up in her bed, from where Polly was standing she was able to see {Y/N]'s skin glistening with sweat.

The middle aged woman immediately walks away from the child's room, going to Tommy's room and knocks on loudly, knowing her nephew would be awake, Polly opens the door " get dressed and go to the doctor down the road" she demands.

Tommy stood up quickly, puling on a pair of his tailored trousers then followed by putting on a shirt " {Y/N] again?" he asks, he knew it was for his sister but asked anyway.

" i don't know whats wrong with her yet" Polly uttered, her voice full of stress and panic.

Polly rushes back over to her nieces room, walking over to the young girls bed, wrapping her arms around the fragile body of her ill riddled body of the youngest Shelby.

{Y/N} small mouse like voice breaks out from her throat "pol" she whispers, her voice cracking, squirming slightly. The young girl was uncomfortable, the warmth from her fever coming through in bursts, her night clothes soaked in her own sweat.

The sound of Tommy leaving his room followed by the sound of the front door opening and close less then a minute later reassured Polly that help would soon be on the way.

Three hours later.

It had been hours since Tommy had left the house, he had not come back. {Y/N]'s fever had gotten worse as the hours past, Polly had given her several cold water baths to try and bring her fever down but nothing was helping.

The sickly young girl had become distressed, her wailing voice filed the small Shelby home. Her brothers and aunt doing everything they could think of to comfort her.

" Don't hold her like that Finn, that will just make her more upset" the eldest Shelby brother barked at his youngest brother.

Finn was holding his sister under armpits and arms length away from him. " shes contagious"

Arthur grumbles and stands up from the dinning room table, stalking towards his siblings, taking his sister gently from the arms of his brother. " You're a Shelby Finn, you've got other things you should be more scared of" Arthur points out.

The eldest Shelby, holds his sister, his hand on the bottom of her back whilst his other arm sat under her legs to support her weight, The young girl lays her head on her brothers shoulder hiccuping as she cries.

" where is bloody Tommy" Arthur grumbles, looking towards Polly as she walks out of the kitchen holding a cloth. The older woman walks over to Arthur, gently wiping the cold cloth against the forehead of the sickly looking child.

" He's coming Arthur, doctor is probably busy with other children sick from this weather"

" Other children aren't {Y/N} pol, she could di--" Polly quickly interrupts Arthur.

" don't be ridiculous Arthur" Polly hissed.

However, Arthur wasn't wrong and Polly knew this, her niece was already weak from birth and the doctor had warned the family that {Y/N} could die from becoming ill, its just the matter of what will kill her and when.

Luckily, the sound of the front door opening and shutting filled the chaotic family home of the Shelby's. Footsteps clunking towards the room filled with hiccups, coughs and wailing.

The sight of Tommy Shelby was a relief for Polly but when she didn't see the doctor her stress levels turned up a notch. Tommy takes his cap off followed by his jacket.

Tommy walks over to his older brother, Arthur transferring his sister over to him " the doctor will come in a few hours, he is full today with other patients" Tommy explains.

Polly runs her slender fingers over her eyebrows, sighing " her fever isn't breaking Tommy, shes making herself worse by crying" his aunt vents.

The sight of the most feared Shelby rocking his youngest sister as she holds one of his fingers wasn't a rare sight for the family, since {Y/N} was born it was clear her and Tommy had bonded incredibly quick and nothing could break that bond.

The house slowly began to become quiet, the occasional hiccup and cough appeared, Tommy sits on the couch, his sister slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing for the first time since the morning.

Polly laughs and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips. " i should have known" she smiles.

Finn frowns and looks towards Polly " known what?" he asks, oblivious.

Polly grabs a cigarette from her metal case and uses a match to light it, then sits down at the dinning room table for the first time since waking up.

" All she wanted was her Thomas".

A/N: Hello again, i apologise for the long wait for this, life has been hectic and i had no time to post anything but i finally have time to post on here! i appreciate all the Reposts, Likes and Comments.

[ceirinen]

December 2023

I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.

I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.

So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.

I totally recommend their work.

(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).

@cillianmesoftlyyy

So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

@runnning-outof-time

Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

@zablife

teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader

@gypsy-girl-08

Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@beastofburdenxo

Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

To the end of the world | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Tommy, the teddy bear | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Emergency surgery | baby!Tommy Shelby Fanfiction | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Anon | Alfie Solomons

@lis-likes-fics

Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader

@pinguwrites

Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader

@http-finnick

Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader

@acewritesfics

Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

@dearshelby

Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

[brummiereader]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" We feel betrayed, unappreciated"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tommy..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pick, what .."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now about that smirk..."

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 9

Facesitting with Arthur Shelby

"A New Addiction"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: After a bad day Arthur finds a new favorite way to relieve his stress.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - oral sex, light dirty talk, swearing, pet names, hair pulling, reference to vaginal sex

You could tell Arthur had had a bad day when he came over to the couch and practically crawled into your lap. Nuzzling his face into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. Sighing as you started rubbing his back and pressing kisses onto the top of his head. You knew when he was this clingy he didn't really want to talk. Instead, he just wanted affection. 

It didn't take long for him to start unbuttoning the top of your blouse and placing kisses between your breasts. Occasionally leaving a soft nip against your skin. You could feel him smile against your skin when his mustache would make you giggle every now and then.

"Come on, Arthur. Let's go to bed. I can tell you've had a long day. We can have dinner later."

"Well I am hungry, love, but not for food." 

You rolled your eyes as you took him by the hand and led him to your shared bedroom. Closing and locking the door behind you since his brothers rarely bothered knocking and preferred to just let themselves in. By the time you turned around, Arthur had already undone his shirt and was quickly moving onto his pants. 

"I have an idea, love. I want you to sit on my fuckin' face, yeah? I don't want to see anything but you above me grinding that pretty little pussy on my face." 

You blushed at the suggestion even as Arthur came over to start undressing you too now that he was down to his boxers. A smile now back on his face and a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Tossing your clothes to the side until he had you completely naked. 

This time leading you over to the bed. Plopping down in the middle of the bed and patting the spots on either side of his head. Signaling where he wanted you before holding one hand out to help you up on the bed and moving one hand to palm his cock through his boxers. The tent there growing larger by the minute, even though you hadn't even touched him yet.

You took his hand and started crawling onto the bed. Kneeling up by Arthur's shoulders but not yet moving to straddle his face as he asked. Still unsure whether you should do what he had requested. You didn't want to accidentally suffocate him. 

"I'm not sure, Arthur. What if I hurt you? What if you can't breathe?"

He chuckled and started pulling you to sit on his chest. One leg thrown over each side of his body. 

"You really think you can hurt me, darlin'? Besides, if I die because you suffocate me with your cunt I'll die a happy man. Now, be a good girl and sit on my fuckin' face!"

With that, he grabbed a hold of both of your ass cheeks and forcibly pulled you up over his mouth. Not giving you any time to react before latching his mouth over your sex and began licking up over your slit. A moan pulled from your chest as you reached to grab ahold of the metal rods of the bedframe and the wall to stabilize yourself. 

"Oh my God, Arthur!" 

He pulled one hand back and slapped your ass making you buck against his face. A groan erupting from his lips at the feeling of you grinding on him and sending vibrations through your cunt. His mustache tickling your clit perfectly as he devoured you like a man starved.

His tongue probing inside of you, then moving back to licking you up and down. All the while managing to never leave your clit unattended. It felt so incredible that you couldn't help but rut yourself against him.

He happily let you fuck yourself on his tongue. Stroking all the right spots on your inner walls. You had no idea Arthur's tongue was so long until now. Your moans easily carried through the thin walls of the house. If Tommy or John dared to enter the front door they would surely hear. Hell you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors could hear you.

You gazed down at your lover and really couldn't care less if they did hear. Bringing one hand down to grab a hold of his light brown, almost ginger hair. Leaving your other hand gripping the bars of the metal bed frame for balance. Although  with Arthur's hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh so hard they were sure to leave bruises, you knew he wouldn't let you fall.

The more you rode his face the more he groaned in delight into your dripping cunt. Eventually you felt him start thrusting his hips up against nothing. The thought that Arthur was getting so much pleasure from just eating your pussy making a fire start to burn in your low belly. 

When he could feel your cunt start to flutter and tense around his tongue Arthur couldn't help but whisper encouragements. You couldn't decide if he was talking to you or your pussy, but either way his words were steadily pushing you towards your climax. 

"That's it, pretty girl. Know that feels good. Feel you getting ready to cream on my tongue. That's my good girl. Give me all you got, lovey. I want it all." 

He stopped talking only to suck your clit into his mouth and start stroking it with his tongue. Your whole body was on fire as your hips started to stutter and all your muscles clenched. 

"Oh God, Arthur, I'm gonna cum! Don't fucking stop!"

It seemed impossible, but Arthur somehow started sucking harder and licking faster. The feeling of his blue eyes watching you making your body tingle. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and your brow coated with a light sheen of sweat. A guttural groan and a high-pitched whine verging on a scream came from you as you had the strongest orgasm you had ever had.

Your whole body spasming as your cum flooded Arthur's mouth. In that moment he decided you were far better and way more addictive than any whiskey or snow could ever be. He would throw every other substance away for the taste of you on his tongue and the image of your naked body above him shaking and sobbing from pleasure. 

You leaned to the side, moving to dismount Arthur's chest. Still in a daze from the mind melting orgasm he had just given you, assuming that he would want either a fuck or blow job in return. You would happily give him either, or even both after how hard he made you cum. 

Jarred from your train of thought when you felt Arthur's strong hands flex to keep you not only perched on top of him but moving back up towards his face. A wide smile on his lips, still shining from your release, as he caught your quizzical gaze. 

"Didn't think I was done, did ya, love? I think I found my new favorite way to relieve stress, and I'm still feeling a bit tense." 

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

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[runnning-outof-time]

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

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

When The Day’s Done | Arthur Shelby x Reader

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

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

Warnings: season 4 spoilers, kidnapping

Word Count: 2777 (way longer than I expected)

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

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

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

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

It didn't take long for them to meet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's the start of a lovely relationship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately things don't pan out that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ••• —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

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

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

@sleepyycatt @novashelby

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 8

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing 

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9

The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.

Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.

            "Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.

Faintly Y/N smiled.

            "I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.

Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.

            "I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.

Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.

            "We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.

Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.

            "Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.

Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue. 

            "I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.

With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.

            "Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.

The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.

            "May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.

Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.

            "It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.

Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.

            "Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.

Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.

            "We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.

Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.

Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.

Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.

Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.

            "No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.

            "That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.

Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.

            Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.

            "Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.

Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.

            "She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.

Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.

            "Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.

Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.

            “We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.

A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.

TagList:

witchymoonbabe secretdreamlandmentality mysticalpandora kittiowolf210 muhahaha303 dreamy-caramel elinalfrida violet-19999 niyah834 watersquirtpewpewboomm piceous21 elliaze heidimoreton literishdegree99 globetrotter28 thecrazytealady regulusblacksimpsblog torresbarnes nightgirl250 sweet-angely05 allthenamestakenwtd

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kiara-rose-blackthorn rangerelik abaker74 madsothree kittiowolf210 lucyandersons-world marigold-morelli meyocoko angelicwolfyqueen iwanttohitmyself pennywisesstuff batgurl42 sleepymadmess lolcaca yolobloggers lor-16 randomgirlwriting rs-fanfiction-2001 bohemian-lavender-girl woofgocows evilangel1324 mrkdvidal1989 nervousmumbling camomiletangeringe tommystargirl toxicenough deadunicorn159 nnercreationflower liar-or-lawyer optimisticsandwichgladiator comfortzonequeen nctma15 banksmars twistxdx inloveppp answer-the-sirens justanotherficreader nunya7394 lovemissyhoneybee lostgirl219 yourbloodyqueen

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Buffed Brass and Baritones - An Arthur Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

A bit of Arthur smut, besties? Yes. Why not. Inspired by a statement shared by my lovely @call-sign-shark earlier today. This is for you, babe!

(GIF credit - @edmundhoar)

Words - 1,114

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You’d never considered the Birmingham accent to be particularly sexy before, you had to admit. That was until Arthur fucking Shelby opened his mouth and let that rumbling baritone out, of course. Now, well... the man could recite something as simple as a grocery list to you and you’d probably come on the spot, such is your weakness for those deep, gritty tones.  

“Are ya all finished, bab?” he asks as you meander outside of the back room door within The Garrison. “Everywhere nice and clean, is it?” 

Instantly, your knees tremble. “Yes, Mr Shelby. Absolutely spotless.” 

“Good.” His eyes rake over you, lips curling into a wide grin. “Then how’d ya fancy getting a bit dirty, eh?” 

Did... did he really just proposition you?  

“Well?” he barks, making you jump a little. “No good you standing there floundering like a bloody fish! Do you want me to fuck ya, or not?”  

“I mean, yes, but...” 

“Well then!” He rises from his seat, pointing in the direction of the bar. “Get your clobber off, go on!”  

You know he’s loud and uncouth, but still, you’re taken by surprise, rooted to the spot, Arthur letting out a sigh as he reaches for you. “Fine, fucking fine! I’ll get your bloody clobber off!” Throwing you over his shoulder like a little rag doll, his big hand smacks hard against your bum, your squealing giggle filling the empty pub.  

He seats you right at the very end of the bar, yanking you close, kissing you with all the passion and torrent of a storm, lithe body pressing to yours as his hands force your knees apart. Your shoes drop from your feet onto the floor, Arthur wasting no time in pulling your dress up. 

Your eyes suddenly widen. “Shit! I’m not wearing my good knickers.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, raising an eyebrow at you as he yanks them off. “And now you’re wearing no knickers at all, bab.” Pushing your thighs apart, a rumble of desire sounds his throat as he sees your cunt splayed before him. “Blimey, ain’t you pretty.” 

He dives straight in with no hesitation at burying his mouth against your folds, hungry tongue roving over you before settling to beat back and forth over your clit. Your hips rise, your mouth dropping open, staggered by the fast pace of it all. Arthur isn’t a man who entertains wasting time, though. Sex with him surely would never be any different.  

He’s completely unrelenting with you, sucking on your bud greedily as he groans deep, the sound settling over your bones as the pleasure lights you up like a firework. His fingers sink into the soft of your thighs, eyes twinkling at you as he watches you enjoy it, smiling at you with a wink. “Like that, don’t ya?” 

“Oh my bloody god!” you cry, you voice pinched tight. “How can anyone be so good with their tongue?” 

He rumbles a chuckle. “Lots of practice, bab.” You don’t doubt that for a second. God, if he was yours, you’d never let him come up for air. He then slows, making you glimmer with long, flat licks, slowing until you begin to whine and shake.  

“Fucking hell,” he groans, the tip of his tongue beating rapidly over your clit. “You’re drowning me.” 

“Sorry,” you pant, feeling a little self-conscious.  

He eyes you curiously, snorting a soft laugh. “Ain’t a a bad thing, love. Ain’t a bad thing at all.” He gives you a few more glimmer-evoking licks before straightening, hands moving to unhook his braces and undo his trousers. “I think you’re ready to get fucked now, beautiful.” 

Pulling his cock out, he pushes straight into you… and in… and in… and… 

“Jesus, Arthur!” you gasp, mouth falling open. “How bloody long is it?” 

His grin is so snugly self-assured as he finally bottoms out, dragging back once more. “Long enough to make a donkey cry if I stood next to him naked.” 

You laugh, and it turns into a shrill cry as he doesn’t hesitate in beginning to drive into you like a piston.  

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” you grit, Arthur tossing your legs over his shoulders, smiling at how much you immediately love being on the receiving end of his long, hungry cock. 

“Mmm, a pretty girl with a foul mouth,” he pants, turning his head to kiss your ankle. “My favourite kind.” Giving you the kind of pounding that has your screams filling the room, your body is shunted against the bar forcefully, your mouth hanging open in exclamation. He then slows, enjoying the hot, tight clutch of your cunt, his eyes falling to watch how his cock sparkles in the dim light, glazed in the velvet wet of you. 

You can barely belive you’re doing it. You’re actually having sex with your boss, the man you’ve dreamed of for months. He is the sexual splendour you’ve always fantasised about, stroking your walls so deftly, so deeply, the power behind him barely contained. He leans to you, tugging your dress and bra down, his mouth raining kisses across your flushed chest, tongue seeking your nipples, circling slowly, slowly.   

Adding a little more speed to each teasing thrust, he begins to stoke the bonfire of your pleasure, your flames crackling, feeling unmoored entirely. Your slippery walls flex around him in appreciation of his assailing, igniting you with the delicious depth of each thrust as you sheathe him, crying out, his hands bracketing your waist.  

Something within him breaks at hearing your shrill wails, and once again he begins to pound into you with unmatched ferocity, giving you all that you craved, his self-control abandoned, his graveled groans intoxicating to your ears.   

“Look how good you take it. Mmmm, yeah. What a fucking good girl.” 

Everything is wild, fervid, uncontained and magmatic, both of you spiralling headlong into the kind of release that has your moans and groans filling the air along with the sound of your skin smacking together. It capsizes you, an undoing of all-consuming magnitude charging through you, the god-given talent of his fuck rendering you a shaking, panting mess beneath him.   

“Bloody hell,” he pants, forehead rested between your breasts, placing a kiss on your sternum. “Dunno what else to say other than bloody hell!” 

“You could say anything, Arthur, and it would leave me knock-kneed,” you gasp, reaching to stroke his hair. 

“What,” he begins, turning his head to kiss your inner wrist, “even more knock-kneed than fucking you so hard atop the bar, your arse has probably buffed the brass?” 

You pull a thoughtful face as he begins to laugh. “Maybe not that much.”  

[peakyswritings]

My Father’s Daughter

Time to Say Goodbye

Arthur Shelby x Daughter!OC

Summary: sometimes the hardest decision is the better one.

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

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

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

MEET ROSALIND

SERIES MOODBOARD

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Does your father know?”

“Not yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it would catch up with her anyway.

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

“Goodbye, Isiah.”

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

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

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

“I’m leaving.”

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

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

“Leaving where?”

“America. New York.”

“To do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You walked out on me first.”

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

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

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

My Father’s Daughter taglist: @strayrockette @justrainandcoffee

General taglist:

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

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

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

[wonderlanddreamer]

i please want a hurt/comfort where mr t. shelby gets buried alive and y/n comes to the rescue plz

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Buried beneath the earth, Tommy's only hope lies in your relentless determination as you push beyond all limits to bring him back.

Warnings: Threats, Violence, Emotional Distress.

Tommy Shelby awoke to a suffocating darkness. His first instinct was to move, but the moment he tried, he felt the crushing weight of the earth pressing down on him from all sides. Panic surged through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. He forced himself to take shallow breaths, trying to conserve the limited air and stave off the rising tide of claustrophobia.

Buried alive.

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer. His hands trembled as he felt the smooth, wooden walls of his coffin, the grain of the timber cold and unyielding under his fingertips.

Tommy's mind raced, a torrent of thoughts and emotions swirling in the darkness. Fear, anger, and despair threatened to overwhelm him, but he clung to a single, stubborn thread of hope. He was Tommy Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders. He had survived worse than this—war, betrayal, the constant dance with death. This was just another battle.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to think logically. He needed to find a way out. His fingers traced the edges of the coffin, searching for any weakness, any sign of escape. The wood was solid and unyielding, the nails driven in with cruel precision, but Tommy refused to give up.

As he struggled, he began to pound on the lid of the coffin, the sound of his fists striking the wood echoing back at him in the confined space. He hoped against hope that someone would hear him. His knuckles split and ached, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

The rhythmic pounding became a metronome of desperation. Each impact sent jolts of pain through his arms, but he welcomed it. Pain meant he was still alive, still fighting. And Tommy Shelby was nothing if not a fighter.

Your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination as you stepped into the dimly lit alleyway, clutching Tommy's revolver with a steady hand. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced eerily around you. The air was thick with the scent of damp brick and refuse, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Tommy had told you everything you needed to know—who he was meeting, when he'd be home, and what to do if he didn't return. You'd gone straight to Arthur and John, but waiting around helplessly was never an option.

You were going to find him.

Your normally soft and calm demeanour had been replaced by a fierce resolve. The adrenaline coursing through your veins sharpened your senses, and your eyes scanned every corner of the alley with heightened awareness. You'd tracked down the weakest link among the men who had taken Tommy, a low-level thug named Billy, known for his cowardice. He was the kind who folded under pressure, and tonight, he would break.

Billy was leaning against a brick wall, nervously lighting a cigarette. The flickering flame briefly illuminated his anxious face. He barely had time to react before you grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall, the cold barrel of the revolver pressing into his temple with unyielding force.

"Where is he?" you demanded, your voice low but deadly serious, each word laced with an icy resolve that sent shivers down Billy’s spine.

Billy's eyes widened in terror, and the cigarette slipped from his lips, landing in a puddle with a faint hiss. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, his voice quivering, betraying his fear.

You pressed the gun harder against his head, your anger flaring like a wildfire. "Don't lie to me. Tommy Shelby. Where is he?"

Billy's resolve crumbled visibly, but he still hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for a way out. That hesitation earned him a swift, hard punch to the gut. He doubled over, gasping for air, his wheeze echoing in the confined space of the alley.

"Talk!" you barked, your voice reverberating off the alley walls, amplifying your fury. "Or the next one won't be so kind."

Billy wheezed, his face contorted in pain, each breath a struggle. "I-I swear, I don't know!"

You didn't have time for this. You grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees. The rough pavement scraped against his skin as he fell. "Wrong answer," you growled, pressing the revolver against the back of his head, the metal cold and unforgiving. "You have one last chance before I paint this fucking alley with your blood."

Billy's resolve shattered completely, his voice a desperate plea. "Alright, alright! They buried him! Out in the old graveyard, near the edge of town. Please, don't shoot! That's all I know, I swear!"

You released him with a shove, and he crumpled to the ground, whimpering. Stepping back, you kept the gun trained on him, your eyes blazing with a mix of fury and determination, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on your shoulders.

"If you're lying, I'll find you again," you said coldly, your voice a promise of retribution. "And you won't get a second chance."

Billy nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face, mingling with the dirt and grime. "I'm not lying, I swear!"

You turned on your heel, your mind focused on only one thing: saving Tommy. With every step you took towards the graveyard, the weight of the revolver in your hand reminded you of who you were fighting for.

Your breath came in rapid bursts as you sprinted towards the old graveyard, each exhale forming a cloud of vapour in the cold night air. The revolver was clutched tightly in your trembling hand, the metal cold and unforgiving. You had sent a frantic message to John and Arthur, but waiting for them was not an option. Every second counted, and Tommy's life hung precariously in the balance.

The graveyard loomed ahead, shrouded in an eerie silence that was broken only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. The moonlight cast long, ghostly shadows over the tombstones, giving the place an otherworldly feel. As you approached, the silhouette of a man standing over a freshly dug grave came into view. Your heart lurched with a mix of fear and steely determination. Tommy was down there, buried.

You moved closer, trying to stay hidden in the shadows cast by the ancient, crooked trees. The man, however, was vigilant. His eyes caught a glimpse of movement, and without warning, he fired his gun. You ducked instinctively, the bullet whizzing past your ear and embedding itself in a nearby tree trunk. Adrenaline surged through you, and you charged forward, driven by the desperate need to save Tommy.

The man met you head-on, and the two of you clashed violently. You swung the revolver at him, but he dodged with practised ease and landed a punch to your gut, knocking the wind out of you. You stumbled back, gasping for air, but your resolve remained unbroken. You lunged at him again, grappling and struggling with every ounce of strength you had. The sound of your scuffle echoed through the graveyard, a cacophony of grunts, curses, and the dull thud of fists meeting flesh.

Below you, in the suffocating darkness of the coffin, Tommy could hear the muffled sounds of the struggle above. His consciousness was slipping, each shallow breath a battle against the crushing weight of the earth. The faint sounds gave him a glimmer of hope, yet a surge of helplessness washed over him. He wanted to fight, to protect you, but he was trapped, barely able to move, let alone breathe.

"Get the fuck away from her," he thought desperately, his fists weakly pounding against the coffin lid. The fear of losing you gnawed at him, making his already limited air supply feel even thinner, his vision blurring as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

The fight above was brutal. The man managed to get the upper hand, pinning you to the ground with his weight pressing down on your chest. His breath was hot and rancid against your face as he reached for his gun. Panic flared in your chest, but you fought back with all your might, clawing and kicking, refusing to give in.

Just as the man raised his gun to finish you off, a gunshot rang out, and he staggered back, clutching his shoulder. You looked up to see John and Arthur rushing towards you, their faces grim with determination and their guns drawn. They fired again, and the man crumpled to the ground, his threat neutralised.

John and Arthur rushed to your side, pulling you to your feet with a mix of concern and urgency. "Are you alright?" John asked, his voice tight with worry.

You nodded, your breaths coming in gasps, each one a struggle against the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Tommy...he's down there," you managed to say, pointing to the freshly dug grave.

Without wasting another second, you dropped to your knees beside the grave and began to dig frantically with your bare hands. The dirt was heavy and unyielding, caking under your fingernails and turning your hands raw and bloody, but you didn't care. You had to reach him.

"Hold on, Tommy!" you called out, your voice shaking with emotion. "We're coming! Just hold on!"

With John and Arthur's help, the hole grew deeper. The three of you worked in a desperate frenzy, scooping away the earth that entombed Tommy. Finally, your fingers brushed against the rough wood of the coffin lid. Your hands were raw and bleeding, but you didn't stop. With a surge of strength fueled by sheer willpower, you pried open the lid, revealing Tommy's pale, dirt-streaked face.

"Tommy!" you cried, reaching in to pull him out. His eyes fluttered open, and he took a gasping breath of fresh air, each inhalation a victory over the suffocating darkness that had threatened to consume him.

"We've got you," Arthur said, his voice choked with relief as he helped lift Tommy out of the coffin. "You're safe now."

Tommy's eyes, though glassy and unfocused at first, gradually locked onto yours. Despite his weakened state, the fierce protectiveness in his gaze was unmistakable. "You shouldn't have come alone," he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, worry mingling with gratitude in his tone.

"I had to," you whispered back, tears streaming down your face as you helped him out of the grave. "I couldn't lose you."

John and Arthur worked quickly, their hands steady despite the gravity of the situation. They supported Tommy on either side, helping him to stand. His legs were unsteady, and he leaned heavily on them. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against your chest. Relief flooded through you, mingling with the lingering fear and adrenaline.

"We need to get him out of here," John said urgently, his eyes scanning the graveyard for any signs of additional threats. "There could be more of them."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Let's move. Our car's not far."

You helped them guide Tommy towards the exit of the graveyard, moving as quickly as his condition allowed. Each step felt like progress, a step away from the brink of disaster and towards safety. The cold night air was a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of the grave, a reminder that you were alive, that Tommy was alive.

As you reached the car, John opened the back door, and you carefully helped Tommy inside. He winced in pain, his body protesting the movement, but he managed a weak smile in your direction. "You really are something else, darlin’," he said, his voice raspy but filled with admiration.

You brushed a strand of hair away from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek."I told you, Tommy. I'm not losing you."

Tommy managed a faint smile, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I know, love. I know."

You could feel the weight of the night's events pressing down on you, but there was a sense of peace now that Tommy was safe. You gently cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the dirt and grime. His eyes closed briefly, leaning into your touch as if drawing strength from it.

"You're my everything," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Tommy's hand reached up to cover yours, his grip weak but full of warmth. "You saved me," he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude. "You always do."

You leaned in, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, bound by a love that had proven unbreakable, even in the face of death.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby," you said softly, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss.

He kissed you back, his lips warm and reassuring. "And I love you, more than anything," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

You held him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

As the car sped through the quiet streets, you held Tommy close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. The city lights flickered past the windows, casting fleeting shadows across his face. In the cocoon of the car, with the world outside rushing by, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[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

[look-at-the-soul]

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

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

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

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

Word count: 3,245

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re in your hands Red.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think I messed up, BIG.

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

What happened?! Are you OK?

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

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

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

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

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

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

“Again I’m really sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom? What do you think?”

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

“Shall we call some women up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

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

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[saintsir4n]

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You’ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

[ceirinen]

January 2024

I'm so glad that 2023 ended... I hope this year is so much better for everyone.

I didn't expect last month's list to be well received. I just wanted to show my admiration and gratitude to all those incredible writers. So there was no need to thank me for being included in the list, since recommending your stories is the least I can do as a reader.

Your writing is wonderful. Some of the things I've read this month have left me speechless, I didn't expect to find in a fic the quality of something that should be published instead.

Thank you for sharing your stories, for dedicating your time to writing, and for offering readers (for free) these masterpieces.

You can find the previous list here.

(If you are in this list and don't want to be in it let me know, please).

Like a good neighbor... | Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy Cut the shit-delusion, sweetheart | Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy Shut if off! | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @darlingsfandom No fucking way | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @cillspropertea A welcome surprise | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @garrison-girl-08

THOMAS SHELBY

Calling him pretty | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @darlingsfandom Not a virgin anymore | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @your-nanas-house Curses, spirits and other things nor to believe in | Thomas Shelby x OC by @dearshelby What really makes a family | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @dearshelby Nice face | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @dearshelby Missing | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @fallatyourfeet Winter light | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @fallatyourfeet Of bending and breaking | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @call-sign-shark He wouldn't dance with me | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @acewritesfics Fireflies | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @acewritesfics Always with me | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader by @look-at-the-soul Twelfth night | Tommy Shelby x OC by @evita-shelby

ALFIE SOLOMONS

Reddish marks | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @dearshelby Fuckin' irreplaceable | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @fallatyourfeet It's bloody three o'clock in the mornin' | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @fallatyourfeet How I met my dad (Cyril) by @raincoffeeandfandoms Afraid of everyone | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @pacifymebby

ARTHUR SHELBY

Thunder storms | Arthur Shelby x Reader by @pacifymebby People like us | Arthur Shelby x fem!Reader by @red-riding-wood Ruined | Arthur Shelby x fem!Reader by @red-riding-wood

Christmas together | Patricia "Kitten" Braden x fem!Reader by @your-nanas-house Truly smitten | Patricia "Kitten" Braden x shy!fem!Reader by @your-nanas-house I'll be your girl | Kitten Braden x Reader by @wutheringcaterpillar

The ward | Jonathan Breech x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy

Miracle | Robert Capa x physicist!fem!Reader by @aurorag98

Little spy | Leonard "Lenny" Miller x fem!Reader by @aurorag98 Love of his life | Lenny Miller x younger!Reader by @aphroditeslover11

Just a little kiss | Emmett x Reader by @beastofburdenxo Quiet | Emmett x fem!Reader by @cillmequick

Hiding here inside a dream | Robert Fischer x OC by @emotionalcadaver

[springtyme]

My requests are currently open for Peaky Blinders and Criminal Minds ♡

Characters

Tommy Shelby Arthur Shelby John Shelby Alfie Solomons

Spencer Reid Aaron Hotchner Derek Morgan Emily Prentiss

[shelbyssins]

White Tulip ~ Arthur Shelby x F!Reader

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

Warnings: Mature themes, hurt/comfort

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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