#peaky blinders shelby sister

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon

(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk

Tommy🪖

🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.

🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.

🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night

🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.

🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror

🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.

🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”

🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went

🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body

🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress

🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.

🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.

🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.

🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.

🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.

🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.

🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”

🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”

🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.

🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.

🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.

🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.

🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.

🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.

🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.

🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.

🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”

🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”

🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.

Arthur🍺

🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.

🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.

🍺left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.

🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.

🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.

🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.

🍺then you spotted it; the sundress

🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.

🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.

🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.

🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.

🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.

🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.

🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.

🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.

🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.

🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.

🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.

🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.

🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.

John🥃

🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.

🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.

🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.

🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.

🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.

🥃a bit of normality.

🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.

🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.

🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.

🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.

🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.

🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.

🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.

🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs

🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”

🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door

🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John

🥊cannot keep his hands off of you

🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.

🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.

🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.

🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”

🥊”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.

🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.

🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.

🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.

🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.

🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.

🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.

🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”

🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.

🥊He was being extremely difficult

🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.

🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)

🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.

🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.

🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.

🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.

🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.

🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.

Isaiah♟️

♟️haha.

♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.

♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.

♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.

♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.

♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”

♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.

♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”

♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”

♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away

♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”

♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.

♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom

♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked

♟️and on the sofa

♟️and the kitchen table

♟️and then bedroom

♟️(you never took the dress off)

♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways

♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.

♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.

♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes

Michael🎱

🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there

🎱loved how it looks on you

🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.

🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.

🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.

🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.

🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.

🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.

🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.

🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.

🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.

🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.

🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.

🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.

🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.

🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered

🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.

🎱he was there soon thereafter.

🎱and he was fucking seething.

🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing

🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.

🎱how dare you wear that dress?

🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home

🎱but tonight was different

🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you

🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.

🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.

🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.

🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o’course Michael.” You say as you get out the car

🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.

🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.

🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.

🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.

🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.

🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”

🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?” He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.

🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.

🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.

🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.

🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.

🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.

🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says

🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”

Aberama🌞

🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke

🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion

🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.

🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.

🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.

🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.

🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.

🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.

🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:

🌞his gorgeous bride.

🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.

🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.

🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.

🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.

🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.

🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns

🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.

🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began

🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.

🌞make your skin fucking crawl.

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Everyone: *chatting around the dining room table for a family dinner*

Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*

Y/N: Thanks, dad

Everyone: *stops talking and stares*

Y/N: *confused* Why is everyone staring at me?

Ada: You just called Tommy ‘dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad’

Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’

Tommy: Do you see me as a father figure, N/N?

Y/N: Pftt- no! If anything, I see you as a bother figure, cause you’re always bothering me!

John: Hey! Show your father some respect!

Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!

Tommy: No, no, Y/N, I take it as a compliment

Arthur: It’s no big deal. I called Linda ‘mom’ once and she’s my wife!

Y/N: Guys, jump on that! Arthur has psycho issues!!

Finn: Old news. But you called Tommy ‘dad’

Y/N: Guys, for the last time, I didn’t call Tommy ‘dad’!

Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-

Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you

Tommy: -daughter. You want to talk about it later over a game of catch?

Y/N:

Y/N: *tears up* I'd like that

[missmomof3]

Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)

Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.

Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.

TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.

"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.

"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.

You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.

He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.

So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.

Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.

"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."

Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.

"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.

So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.

You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."

"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.

Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.

When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.

But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.

That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.

This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.

The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.

The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.

Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.

For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.

While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.

Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.

Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.

"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.

Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.

Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.

Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.

Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.

Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.

Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.

Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.

[zkvry]

Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader

Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.

Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism

Additional Information : > takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers) > written in third person perspective (she/her) > 847 words | 6 minutes

Author's Note : decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3

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

"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.

Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"

John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.

Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.

Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.

He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.

Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.

Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.

Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.

Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.

Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.

"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.

Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.

She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.

"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.

Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.

Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.

"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"

"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.

As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.

"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.

In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.

The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.

However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.

"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.

She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.

[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.

[marina98s]

[theundercoversquid]

Little Lamb PT2

Pairing:  Luca Changretta x Reader

Summary: Maybe Luca wasnt the butcher, maybe he was the savour

Warnings: I saw the request from @birdyman-momon at 11:54 p.m., and by 12:33, it had been written and formatted! So I hope it is good and that you enjoy it! For some strange reason, the inspiration hit, and I couldn't not write it! (I am publishing this before I have the opportunity to talk myself out of it!)

Part 1: Little Lamb

Masterlist

If someone had told you three years ago on your wedding day what your future held for you, you would have scoffed at them. There was no way that being married off to Luca Changretta would be a good thing for you. No, you would have laughed and said that your family had signed you off to a life of mystery. You would have told them that your family had thrown you to the wolves. That you were a Lamb sent to slaughter.

But no, you would be wrong. Getting married to Luca Changretta would be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. On your wedding night, Luca never even touched you. The closest he ever got was to drape his jacket around your shoulders.

He never forced you to do anything that you were comfortable with. He let you lead at your own pace. Doing things how you wanted to do them.

The day after your wedding, he took you on a date. Showering you with gifts and his attention.

As if he could sense your apprehension, he did nothing to make you uncomfortable. You could tell that he wanted to return home to New York, but he did not pressure you to do so.

So when, 6 months after being married, you told him that you wanted to go home to New York with him, his face practically split in half from the grin.

His accent was thick as he told you about all the things that he wanted to do with you and all the places that he wanted to show you. You could feel his excitement catching on, and soon, you could feel yourself smiling along with him.

And well, going to New York would be something that you would never regret. The moment the ship left the harbour, you felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulder. You were no longer a Shelby. You were a Changretta, and you knew that Luca would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. He would never do to you what your family had done to you.

So when he carried you over the threshold of your new home, you gave yourself up to him in the most primal way. Bearing your body and soul for him. You let him see all the ugly bits and all the beautiful bits, and never once did he flinch.

Life only got better from there. You settled into life in New York. Surrounded by people who loved and appreciated you. The air and the atmosphere suited you far better than the coal-infested air of Birmingham. A place you vowed never to return to as you cut off all contact with your family. While they had given you Luca, they had thrown you to the wolves, knowing that you could be ripped apart.

Life only continued up from there, with you and Luca renewing your vows on the third anniversary of your wedding. So you could both properly celebrate your union, surrounded by happiness and the people that you loved.

Right then, on that day surrounded by a family that loved you, you would have told anybody willing to listen that it was the best day of your life, that there was no way it could get better.

Whilst you may have been right. You were also wrong. As life had much more happened in store for you. Surrounded by your husband and his family. But most importantly. Surround with the love of your husband.

Tag list: @birdyman-momon @miojodetomatin @siriuslyblackonback

[themultifandomgal]

Oh, oh, I have a request! ~~

I have had this one in my mind for a long time. What about Tommy Shelby X sister!reader where before the war he knew her as his sweet naive sister that chokes on cigarette smoke, doesn’t like whisky and looks exactly like their mother. After he returns she is a complete different person, while the men were at war she had to take on the family business with Polly, so she has become a kind of criminal genius? Cold, calculated, unhinged at times and highly intelligent. Tommy is so shock that at first he can’t even recognize her, the look in her eyes is completely different. Maybe that shock turns into fascination, and that fascination into concern as soon as he sees what she has become.

I hope I’m not in difficulty to you with this request, I just need to get it out of my mind. Feel free to ignore it. Thanks. 🫀

Shelby Sister- A Different Girl

Before the war YN was an innocent sweet girl who never smoked or drank. She was the Shelby's pride and joy having being the only one who would rather sit and read a book instead of going out getting pissed. Tommy remembered the first time John gave YN a drink and she almost threw up from it. He also remembered when she tried one of his cigarettes and couldn't stop coughing. YN was your typical sweet doe eyed girl. So when Tommy and his brothers returned from the war they almost didn't recognise the sweet girl. Before the war she would wear dresses, have her long hair braided with a bow now she was in trousers, her hair cut short and the smile she once wore on her face was now gone.

While the boys were away YN took on the family business with her aunt Polly, dealing with many men she had to learn to grow up and how to keep herself safe.

YN walks through the door of the betting shop with her head held high. She walks over to John who's writing the bets on the bored. Rolling her eyes YN snatches the chalk from her brothers hand leaving him shocked

"Your doing it wrong" YN says rubbing off his work "oh and since it's a Friday, Mr Johnson will be in. If you don't deal with him straight away he will cause issues"

"Issues" John scoffs

"Don't say I didn't warn you"

"YN go home. Your not needed" YN turns around to see Tommy walking in with Arthur. YN raises her eyebrows

"You need me"

"No we don't. We dealt with the shop fine before we went away"

"Polly and turned the shop into what it is today. So no. I'm not going home" YN and Tommy end up having a stare off which Tommy becomes fascinated with how much his sister has changed.

YN stays at the betting shop dealing with difficult men with ease which surprises all of her siblings. One man in particular enters the betting shop, a man YN has dealt with many times. The shop had not long closed

"I told you last time to piss off" YN says barley looking at the man while she carries on doing the books

"And I told you last time I'd be back"

"Look" YN sighs now looking up at the man "Mr Harris. I'm a bit tired of removing you from the the shop. So since my brothers are back I'll let you keep that last shred of dignity you have and let you walk out of here on your own" Mr Harris starts laughing as YN stands up from her seat. Tommy watches from his office ready to intervene and any second. But what took him back was seeing his once sweet and innocent sister take out a gun and give the man a warning shot. But when the man started laughing Tommy whiteness his sister shout the man in the head. Fascination turns to concern as he watches YN place her gun back in her holster then wipe the blood off her face

"I actually liked this top" she sighs

"YN?" Tommy slowly walks out of his office slowly "why did you shoot him?"

"He's been a pain for months. Good riddance if you ask me. Now I best get rid of this body" YN says placing her hands on her hips. Long gone has Tommys sister, and she's been replaced with almost a new person. Someone Tommy knows doesn't need protecting, someone he knows he can rely on.

[hb-writes]

Drunk Shakespeare

Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.

Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.

Prompt: Almost caught

Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.

After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.

Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it. 

It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.

In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.

Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.

Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.

She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her. 

"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?” 

Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.

"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"

Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk. 

Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.

"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."

"You're finished?”

Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'

"I've been done for hours." 

"What are you sitting in here for, then?"

She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.

Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" 

"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—" 

“Finn," Isiah interrupted.

"What?"

"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."

Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.

"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'

"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk. 

Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead. 

“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?” 

It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.

“I meant who’s he with?” 

Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?” 

Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.

“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling. 

“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?” 

“Tom—”

“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him. 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again. 

Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.

“You’re insufferable.”

Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”

Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit. 

“You’re testy today.”

“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.

“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?” 

Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah. 

“We’re all locked up?”

Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.” 

“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.” 

Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things. 

Not every single thing, but most. 

Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it. 

As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop. 

Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house. 

But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being. 

Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her. 

She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before. 

To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.

The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place. 

And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples. 

“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart. 

Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them. 

Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go. 

Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse. 

As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her? 

Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled. 

“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”

“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”

Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high. 

The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading. 

Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara. 

“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.

Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window. 

Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was. 

Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.

“I can—”

“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.” 

“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”

“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.” 

Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah. 

Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.

The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom. 

“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?” 

While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books. 

Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.” 

He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.

Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”

It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.

“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.” 

Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?” 

“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.” 

He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”

Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.” 

“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.

“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.” 

Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.

“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.” 

Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed. 

How they both had been managed for years now. 

Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.

“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”

They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.

Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space. 

Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.

Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.

Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish. 

It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.

Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them. 

No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6. 

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine. 

Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world. 

With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this. 

She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky. 

“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"

Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.

“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—” 

“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.

A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.

“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”

“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.

“She’s got a point, mate.” 

Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough. 

"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.

"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."

Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.

Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.

"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."

Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.

No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...

"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard. 

When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm. 

“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”  

Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” 

Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.

"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.

They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else. 

Most especially from everyone else. 

They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.

If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.

Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts. 

But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.

Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them. 

“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.” 

“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.” 

“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest. 

Clara sighed and nodded. 

“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding. 

“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”

They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.

“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught. 

Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge. 

For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love. 

In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.

And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.

They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck. 

Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.

Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult. 

“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”

Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”

“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”  

“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby” 

“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips. 

They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[book-place]

Peaky Blinder Song

Warnings: violence, cursing, weapons, blood, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Growing up as a Shelby wasn’t always easy, but at least your siblings were always there for you

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: The Jet Song by the cast of West Side Story

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

When you're a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way

“Well, would ya look at that,” Tommy mused, the slightest bit of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke.

At his words, John and Arthur looked up from their breakfasts in confusion before following their brothers line of sight to where you were waddling into the room, one of their caps upon your head.

Arthur let out a booming laugh and scooped you up into his arms, playfully rubbing his mustache against your cheek, emitting giggles from you, “Would ya look at that!” He agreed.

“Where’d ya get that?” John asked, reaching up and gently shaking your foot.

You began blabbering to your older brothers, ignoring the fact that the hat had fallen into your face, covering your eyes. Arthur calmly lifted it up, seriously nodding as if he could understand a single thing that you were trying to say.

“Give ‘er here,” Tommy ordered gruffly, standing up and gently taking you from his elder brother's arms, eyes softening as you looked up at him with that toothy grin of yours, “What’re ya doin’?” He asked in amusement.

“I think she’s ready to be a Peaky Blinder, Tommy,” John laughed as the other man had to lift up the hat away from your face again.

“Is that so?” He asked teasingly, reaching out and ticking your stomach a little bit, “You gonna be the leader of the Blinders now, little one?”

Arthur laughed again, “We don’t need you anymore, Tommy, we’ve got Y/n.” He said jokingly.

“I think you might be right, Arthur,” He said seriously, “Looks like n/n can handle it from here.”

You began blabbering again after a loud laugh, making your brothers all chuckle around you.

“We’ve got our own little Peaky Blinder here.” John declared.

From your first cigarette

“Come on now,” Finn said impatiently, “Hold it for me.”

Without a word, you did as your brother demanded, taking the object in your hands and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Finn Shelby.” The furious voice of your aunt made the boy tense up and freeze instantly.

“Polly,” He gulped, slowly turning around to face the woman.

The look on her face alone was enough to put him six feet under on the spot. He didn’t even want to think about what was going to happen to him.

“You better tell me right now why the hell my three year old niece is holding a cigarette, and if you don’t say that you found her like this, then you have something else coming for you.” The threat made him pale even further and his blood ran cold.

Oblivious to what was going on, you grinned up at your aunt, “Pol! Pol!” You cheered happily, dropping the cigarette and reaching your hands up to her.

Instantly, she stooped down and swept you into her arms, you snuggling closer to her hold without a second thought as your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed in contempt.

“What’s all the bloody racket in here?” Arthur inquired, stalking onto the room with Tommy following right behind.

“Your youngest brother tried handing a cigarette to your sister.” Polly didn’t once take her venomously dangerous glare off of the young boy.

By then, his eyes had begun to fill with tears, only for them to spring loose when the two older men’s heads snapped over to him.

“Finn,” Tommy spoke in that eerie stern voice that only he seemed to be able to master, “Is what she’s saying true?”

“I-I just wanted to be like you guys!” Finn sobbed openly, dropping his head into his hands, “I wanted to smoke and be like you!”

“And you though’ that makin’ our little sister hold your cigarette was the way to do that?” Arthur asked angrily, glowering at the boy.

He shook his head vigorously back and forth, “N-no!” He hiccuped, “I just had to do somethin’ so I needed her to hold in for a minute!”

“Oi!” Polly snapped in a harsh whisper, “Hush now, Y/n has fallen asleep.” She leveled a last glare at Finn, “We’ll deal with this later, young man.”

To your last dyin' day

A joyful laugh left your lips as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you down the alleyway.

True, Tommy and Arthur had told you to stay on the sidewalk where they could see you while you played, but it didn’t hurt to go for a little run to see how fast you could make it back.

Now five years old, you were constantly getting into mischief, reminding Polly too much of how the boys were when they were little.

You hadn’t been looking where you were going, your gaze was turned up towards the brightly lit sky, so you didn’t see the person standing in the middle of the alley until you ran right into his legs.

Stumbling slightly at impact, you quickly fell onto your backside with a small ‘oof’, a stinging sensation quickly making its way through your body from the pavement.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A malicious voice snarled from above you, causing your head to snap up with wide eyes.

The man whose legs you ran into was sneering down at you from the end of his greasy nose. And to you, he looked downright terrifying.

“I-I’m sorry Mr,” You mumbled with wide eyes, slowly crawling backwards, “It was an accident.”

He shot you a sinister smile, slowly stalking towards you, “Was it now?” He hummed mockingly.

Your head bobbed up and down as you nodded desperately, “It was, I swear it was!”

The man shook his head softly and clicked his tongue, “Now, I’m findin’ myself not really believing you, girl.”

You could feel your face pale even more at his words, “I’m sorry!” You tried again, panic swirling in your stomach. This man scared you, and you didn’t like it.

“Listen here, you little-“ He snarled, storming over to you and snatching your arm in a bruising grip and squeezing while dragging you to your feet, making you cry out in pain.

“What is going on here?” Despite the deadliness of the calm in his voice, you still sagged in relief the second you heard Tommy speak.

“Nothin’ to worry about, Mr. Shelby. Just takin’ care of this little bitch.” From the way he spoke about you, it was clear as day that he didn’t know who you were.

“Is that so?” There was no mistaking the flash of complete rage that appeared on your brother's face, “And what does my baby sister have to do with that?”

If you thought your face had been pale before, it was nothing compared to how the man looked when all the color drained from his face instantly. He let go of your arm, stumbling away as if having been burned by the contact of your skin.

As soon as you were free, you scrambled over to Tommy, hiding behind his legs and burying your face into his coat that hung near your head.

“M-Mr. Sh-Shelby,” He immediately began begging, “I-I swear to god I didn’t know who she was-“

“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.

“Listen- listen, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never would have done that if I had known-“ Tears had begun cascading down his cheeks.

“But ya did, didn’ ya?” He questioned rhetorically, “And now you’re gonna have to pay the price for messin’ with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”

A hand reached out and touched your shoulder and you flinched away immediately, not having heard someone approach. Whipping your head around, you were met with the sight of Arthur, holding his arms out to you.

After one glance at Tommy for confirmation, you grabbed onto your eldest brother's hand and followed him out the alley. When you tried to look back, Arthur simply turned your head away and quickened your pace to get you out of there.

Silence carried on in your absence for a moment, Tommy letting it drag on until the man looked like he quite literally was going to suffocate from it.

“Did ya see that?” He asked quietly, taking slow, menacing steps towards the man, “Did ya see how jumpy she was after what ya did to her? How she flinched away from Arthur?”

“Please, please- I’m begging you-“ The man had quite literally backed himself into a corner, his head frantically whipping around to try and find a way out.

“You scared my little sister,” He carried on, “You hurt her. And something like that… is unforgivable.”

Arthur closed the door to the house particularly loudly just in time for a gunshot to go off, silencing it slightly from your ears.

When you're a Jet

“What’d ya want?” Harry asked jokingly, leaning over the counter of the Garrison so he could look at you, “A drink?”

You giggled loudly at his words and shook your head, “Polly says I can't be drinkin’ anything from here yet!” You replied with a wide grin.

“Now, is that so?” He tapped his chin as if thinking about it, “I suppose your aunt is always right, though, ain’t she?”

You nodded your head in agreement, swinging your legs back and forth from the barstool you sat at.

“Oi!” John called, coming sauntering out of an office in the back, “Ya better not be lettin’ my little sister drink!” The smirk that played at the ends of his lips let you both know he was joking around.

“Nah!” Harry shook his head, “I tried to be cool and let her, but that little rascal is a rule follower, she is.”

John laughed loudly at that, reaching over and ruffling your hair, “That don’t sound like my sister.” He teased, “She don’t ever follow no rules.”

“She sounds like a certain group of boys I know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.

“Now, what’re you insinuating?” John leaned back against a table and placed his hands in his pockets, “That she's actin’ like us Blinders?”

“I think so,” The man reached over and playfully flicked your nose, making you laugh so hard that you almost went tumbling off the stool.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough now.” John quickly lowered you to the ground, not trusting you not to fall off anymore.

“Imma Blinder!” You cheered, giving your brother a toothy grin.

He laughed, bending down and scooping you up, “Yeah, I suppose ya are.”

If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around

“Yer nothin’ but a stupid little kid,” A boy a couple years older than you, about Finn's age, sneered down at you, his raised voice attracting the attention of the other students in the school yard.

Despite the tears that began to collect in your eye ducts, you glared at him, not backing down, “That isn’t true!”

Even though he was way taller and bigger than you were, you stood your ground. That is, until he gave you a shove back by the shoulders and you went sprawling to the ground.

He had been picking on you for having mud on your clothes after playing with a couple friends outside before school and even though you tried to walk away, he just wouldn’t leave you alone.

The crowd that had gathered around gasped when you hit the ground, clearly not expecting it to escalate that quickly and your cheeks turned red.

“Hey!” None other than Finn Shelby had pushed his way through the sea of kids with a glare set on his face that resembled that of your brothers.

“What do you want?” The kid rounded on him, glaring down at your brother, who was still at least a head shorter than him.

“That’s my sister.” Finn informed him through gritted teeth, as if the boy didn’t already know.

You sniffled slightly, scrambling up and making your way over to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “It’s okay, Finn.” You mumbled, “Let’s just go.” You didn't want either of you to get into any trouble.

He just shrugged off your hand though, sizing the boy up before reeling his arm back suddenly and without warning sent it flying into the boy's nose.

Almost instantly afterward, two teachers surged through the crowd and quickly pulled the two boys apart, the one that had been picking on you now crying and holding his nose.

You and your brother had to sit in the principal's office until one of your siblings or aunt showed up, the house having been called for one of them to come pick you up.

Not too long had passed before Tommy made his way through the door, demanding and controlling aura in tow.

He ignored the staff that tried speaking to him, immediately turning his attention to the two of you, “What happened, eh?” He demanded sternly.

“I saw this kid push Y/n,” Finn jumped up to explain, “So I punched him in the face! Just like you and Arthur taught me to!”

Your older brother's eyes quickly flickered over to you, giving your body a quick once over to ensure that you were alright.

“Okay,” He spoke before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving behind a stunned teacher and not turning back to see the two of you scramble up to follow.

After walking to the car, he opened the door and waited for you two to get in before sliding into his own side. He didn’t start the car though, just turned to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, to which you nodded your head, “Lucky Finn was there, then, eh?”

“I could’ve hit him too,” You insisted.

His lips quirked up, “I know, but it’s still good to have some backup sometimes.”

You were silent for a moment before turning to Finn, “Thank you for helping me.”

“He didn’t have the right to push ya,” He grumbled while leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You're a family man

“Game night! Game night!” You cheered, sprinting into the living room before diving head first onto the couch.

“Mind your head,” Polly scolded, “Don’t need ya hittin’ it too hard that we have to end up takin’ ya to the doctors.”

“But it’s game night!” You cheered, falling backwards onto the couch with a large grin overtaking the entirety of your face.

“Did somebody say game night?” Arthur’s voice boomed into the room before he even entered it, with a smile that could be heard through his tone.

“I did!” You chorused back, “And I’m going to beat all of you?”

“Is that so?” John strode into the room with Tommy and Finn following close behind.

“Uh huh!” You agreed, turning your face as serious as you could make it in order to try and get your point across.

“Hmm,” John tapped his chin and pretended to think, “That's weird, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I was the winner of the last game night. Not you.”

You pouted at him, crossing your arms, “Well, I’m gonna beat ya this time!”

“Ya think so?”

“I know so!”

Arthur chuckled at your words and even Tommy softened a bit at the interaction.

You're never alone

“T-Tommy?” You called out hesitantly in the darkness, voice wavering as you spoke.

The man’s eyes immediately snapped open and he shot up, hand flying out to grab the gun that was kept under his pillow, “Y/n?” He echoed back, squinting to try and make you out through the dark room, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I-I had a nightmare,” You admitted in a whisper, shuffling your feet and toying with your fingers.

His entire being immediately sagged in relief, fingers loosening around the weapon once he realized that you were in no physical danger. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew how much of a danger dreams could be, how they could affect one’s mind.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, scooting over in the bed to make room, lifting up the blanket like an invitation.

You wasted no time before plunging onto the bed, cuddling up to your brother's chest, “Thank you,” You murmured shyly.

“No, need to thank me, sweetheart,” He mumbled, dipping his head so he could place a kiss on the top of your hair.

It was silent for a moment, and Tommy would’ve thought you had fallen back asleep if you hadn’t spoken up with an embarrassed whisper, “I know I’m eight now and I’m supposed to be a big girl, but it was really scary, Tommy.”

He let a small sign fall from his nose as he tightened his arms around you, “There’s no such thing as being too old for nightmares, sweetheart.”

You pulled away and looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”

He hummed, “I get them all the time.”

Your jaw was on the floor by then, “You do?” Never in a million years would you be able to picture your strong big brother having a bad dream.

“I do,” He repeated, “Do you want to talk about yours?”

Immediately, you shook your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso to the best of their abilities.

“Okay, alright,” He mumbled, leaving another kiss on your head, “You can go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything get you.”

You're never disconnected

You had no idea where you were. You spun around in circles but still couldn’t pinpoint your own location.

Earlier in the day, you had insisted to your brothers that they bring you to a marketplace that was in town, and they reluctantly relented and brought you. But now you couldn’t find them and the panic was starting to set in.

You gasped, whipping around when you felt a hand on your shoulder and were met with the sight of an unfamiliar man.

“Let go of me!” You demanded immediately, squirming out of his hold.

He raised his hands automatically, backing away from you, “Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You didn’t scare me,” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s alright. I work for your brothers.” He reassured you, but even though it was supposed to comfort you, it only made you even more suspicious of him.

Slowly, you took a step away from the stranger, ready to make a run for it, when the sound of thundering footsteps made you turn to your right, all your brothers rushing over to where you were.

“Oh, thank god,” John mumbled, coming to a stop and running a hand down his face when he saw you safe and sound.

“Daryl,” Tommy greeted, clearly knowing the man, “I am now in your debut. Thank you for taking care of her.”

The man, Daryl, tipped his hat to Tommy and shot you a playful wink, “‘twas my pleasure, boss. Just lucky I was in the area and saw her before anyone else did.”

You're home with your own

“You’re doin’ it wrong!” You insisted with a whine, bringing your foot down and stomping against the floor once.

“I’m following the directions!” Finn snapped back, “How am I doin’ it wrong if I’m following the directions?”

“You ain’t, though! You’re addin’ too much chocolate chips and not enough flour!” You were beginning to lose your temper with your brother.

He simply shrugged, “I don’t see the problem with havin’ any extra chocolate.” He tried to reason.

You dropped your head to the counter with a groan, “We need to make them special! We can’t do that if you don’t follow the recipe.”

Finn seemed to contemplate it for a moment before rolling his eyes with a sigh and beginning to undo what he had done, “Fine, we’ll follow your borin’ cookie recipe.”

“What’re you two doing?”

You both shrieked and whipped around at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Tommy, who had a single eyebrow raised in your direction.

“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.

“No!” You shrieked, reaching over and slapping his arm, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

The boy scowled, reaching up to rub the sore spot of where you had hit, “Not much of a secret, anyone could see what we’re doing.”

Tommy looked amused by the scene before him and put his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step out of the kitchen, “Just act like I wasn’t even ‘ere.”

You eagerly jumped on the opportunity and began shooing Finn back to what he was supposed to be doing to prepare the dessert.

When company's expected, you’re well protected

Tears silently ran down your cheeks as Polly held you close with a hand resting over your mouth, keeping you from making any noise to notify anyone of your presence.

A group of men had broken into your house while your brothers were out on business and began ransacking it. Your aunt had pulled you into a closet with her as soon as she had gotten wind of what was happening and hid the two of you behind an old pile of jackets.

“Shh, hush now,” She whispered as quietly as possible into your ear, “It’s alrigh’. We’re gonna be alrigh’.”

The walls muffled the exact words being spoken by the group of men, but you could still hear their voices and the sounds of their footsteps getting nearer and nearer to your hiding place.

“-thought you said the kid and old lady were still here,” You heard one of them grunt, meaning that they were a lot closer than before.

Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.

“They are, I’ve been scouting outside this place all day and neither one of them has left.” A new voice shot back.

“Check the closets,” A third voice said, making you whimper softly.

Just then light poured into your small space, temporarily blinding you the second the door was roughly thrown open. Polly was quick to move you behind her, using her body as a shield against your own.

“I found them-“ He was cut off by the sound of multiple gunshots going off at once that automatically made your ears begin ringing, making it near impossible to hear anything else.

Slowly, you tried to peek around your aunt's body, but she quickly pushed you behind her once more, “Don’t look.” You could barely make out her words over the constant ringing.

“Giver ‘er ‘ere, Pol.” A voice- Tommy’s, you think- spoke through the haze, and you were carefully passed into the arms of your older brother, who maneuvered you in such a way that you couldn’t see the body’s that lay scattered all over the room, your other brothers standing over them to ensure that the job was done.

“You’re alright,” He whispered soothingly in your ear, striding out of the room with you as you desperately gasped for air and gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline, “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha now, I’ve gotcha.”

Sure, you’ve had scares in the past- it came with the line of work your family was in- but nothing compared to the heart gripping terror you experienced for the first time that day.

Of course, your family saved you just in time, though. Just like they always did.

Then you are set with a capital J

“Well, don’t you look fancy,” Arthur commented as you happily skipped into the kitchen.

You giggled a bit with a nod of your head, moving past where he and John sat at the table to grab and apple from the counter.

“What’s the occasion?” Your other brother piped up, glancing up from his own breakfast.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes teasingly at the two men, “I don’t need a reason to dress up,” You informed them, “I’m going to school! All the girls dress up now at school!”

John’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, and you’re doin’ what all the other girls are doin’ now?”

A hum left your lips as you floated over, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks before joyfully leaving the room.

Tommy entered just as you were leaving, receiving a large bear hug from you before you continued on your way, singing a song quietly to yourself.

“I don’ think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be goin’ to school.” The man commented.

“Tommy… I’ve just had an awful realization,” Arthur looked up at his brother with wide eyes, taking his little brothers raised eyebrow as a sign to continue, “I thinks n/n is growin’ up.”

“And what makes ya say that?”

“She’s goin’ to school all dressed up becuase it’s what all the other girls be doin’ now,” Arthur was talking with a horrified look on his face, “And I don’t like it, Tommy.”

The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, “She’s just dressing up a bit, Arthur, it’s not the end of the world. You can start worryin’ when she comes around talkin’ about boys, eh?”

“Boys?” Arthur paled even more, “I didn’ even think of that part.”

Which you'll never forget ‘til they cart you away

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” John asked softly, worry painting his features as he immediately dropped onto the couch next to you.

You had your head in your hands and tears were falling down your cheeks when you looked up, startled by your older brother's presence. You hadn’t thought anyone was home.

“John,” You immediately moved to wipe your tears away, but he gently caught your wrists, halting your movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, making sure he was looking you in the eyes as he spoke.

You sniffled slightly, shrugging harshly and trying to avert your gaze from his.

“Y/n,” He prompted, “I just wanna help ya.”

A sigh fell through your lips and you realized that it wouldn't hurt to just tell him, there was nothing he could do to change it anyway.

“A couple girls were making fun of me in school today.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as you spoke, “I was called on for a question on the homework and I got it wrong.”

His eyebrows set in a furrow, “So they made fun of ya for it?”

You nodded tearfully, biting down on your lip and dropping your head in defeat.

“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, gently taking your chin and moving it so you were looking at him again, “Wanna know what I want ya to do?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, “I want ya to go back to school tomorrow and show those girls exactly who they’re dealing with.”

It was then your turn to allow your eyebrows to dip in confusion, “Who?”

“You.” A smile tugged at his lips, “You’re a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nobody gets away with messing with one of them.”

You smiled now, tears having stopped springing from your eyes, “I’m a Peaky Blinder.” You repeated.

He grinned, reaching over ruffling your hair affectionately, “And don’ ya ever forget it.”

When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet

“Happy Birthday,” Tommy smiled one of his rare, real smiles with an even rarer twinkle in his eyes, “I hope ya like it.”

You were finally fourteen, and your whole family was gathered around the living room to celebrate, passing gifts upon gifts into your arms.

A gasp escaped from your lips as you opened the lid to the box and peered inside, “I-it,” You choked out, “It’s wonderful.”

You gently placed it to the side and sprang forward, throwing your arms around your brother's neck and bringing him in for a tight hug.

“All right, all right,” He said playfully, “Try it on now.”

Carefully, with the rest of your family gazing at you in wonder, you took out your very own Shelby family, Peaky Blinders cap.

Something that looked much like a distant memory flashed over Arthur and John’s faces instantly the second you placed it upon your head.

“Do ya remember when-“ John began, and Arthur nodded.

“When what?” You echoed in curiosity, looking at a nearby mirror and adjusting your new present.

“When the last time you wore one of those, it was too damn big for your own head,” Arthur laughed loudly at the memory.

Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave them wide grins, causing their hearts to squeeze tightly at the deja vu they were getting from seeing you like that.

When you're a Jet you’re the top cat in town

“M-Miss. Shelby,” A store owner stuttered out as soon as you opened the door to his bakery.

“Morning, sir.” You greeted kindly, having learned a long time ago not to take his fear to heart. No matter how nice you tried to be to people, no one was able to see past your family name. And oftentimes, you wouldn’t even complain.

“I- I have some freshly baked cakes!” His eyes widened at his own realization before quickly scrambling into the back and coming back less than a moment later with the treats in hand.

You shot him a smile, picking them up after he slid them along to counter towards you before reaching for your pocket for some money.

“Oh, oh no, Miss. Shelby.” He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”

A frown pulled on your lips, “But, sir-“

“It’s the least I could do,” He insisted, “Please, just take it.”

Hesitantly, you nodded before thanking him and making your way out of the store. Of course, this wasn’t even the first time something like this had happened to you or any other one of your siblings.

While you found it slightly worrisome, Finn found it downright hilarious.

You're the gold-medal kid, with the heavyweight crown

“Hey, oi, Johnny boy,” Arthur whispered, making the man look up from the newspaper in his lap, eyes following to where his older brother had inclined his head.

He felt a smile slowly grow on his face when he realized what he was looking at.

You were cuddled up between some pillows under a blanket on the couch nearby to them with an open book in your lap and your head dropped lazily to the side, having fallen asleep while reading.

“Should I wake her?” Finn asked mischievously from his seat beside John, who reached up and gave the boy a good whack on the back of the head, “I was only jokin’.” He grumbled.

“Let ‘er sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Besides, she looks so peaceful right now.”

When you're a Jet, you’re the swingin'est thing

“I will push you in, Finn Shelby, don’t test me,” You warned as the two of you walked side by side on a bridge that hung a couple feet above the river.

The boy snickered, playfully shoving his shoulder against yours, “I’d like to see you try.”

A wicked glint settled in your eye, but it was gone before Finn could have been able to see it.

Deciding to wait until he let his guard down again, you allowed a few moments to pass in silence as you walked side by side, pretending to study the water.

Then, without giving him so much as a slight warning, you used all your force and sent him flying into the water down below.

You were holding onto your stomach and doubling over while cackling by the time he resurfaced, jaw dropped and a look of betrayal on his face, “Look whatcha did!” He complained.

“Oops,” You giggled before making your way over to the edge and sticking out your hand to help you up, feeling only a little bit bad about what you did.

He swam over to you and took your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out like you thought he would, he yanked down on it hard, sending you toppling right after him into the freezing water.

You gasped as soon as you resurfaced, and he was now the one laughing at the look on your face, “That’s what you get!” He cheered.

Glaring at him slightly, you hit your hands against the surface, sending a big wave straight into his face.

He sat there, frozen for a moment, before slowly turning to face you fully and splashing you right back in the face.

Little boy, you're a man, little man, you're a king

You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face as soon as you sat down at the table. All around you, your brothers and aunt chatted loudly amongst themselves whilst enjoying the first dinner you had all together in a couple of months.

“What’s got ya smilin’ over there?” Tommy asked from beside you.

“Just really happy that we’re all together right now,” You replied without so much as allowing your smile to falter.

His lips twitched upwards, “Yeah, me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777

[anonymooseforever007]

The Engagement

(Luca Changretta x Shelby sister reader)

Summery: You had made it very clear already. You had absolutely no intentions of marrying Luca Changretta for a business deal.... So your brothers really should have been suspicious when you eagerly requested for them to set up a meeting for you and your fiancé one neutral ground.... And they should have been scared when you choose Alfie's shipyard as that neutral ground....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings besides peaky language and threats I think! There are talks about an arranged marriage, but once again we'll see how that goes over.... This is the first time I've like written Luca besides just mentions so I hope I did alright! Also I write this like two weeks ago but forgot to edit it until today oops! Enjoy!❤️

WC-5.0k

Part 1- The Proposal Main Masterlist

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"Remind me again why the fuck we're we're here Tom?"

"Ask her. She was the one who choose the meeting place."

"Keep in mind that she can also hear you perfectly well brother darling, and if you ask that question one more time you won't be so lucky."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he took a seat by John as you all sat waiting for your company to arrive. Well, Tommy didn't sit. He just stood with a cigarette hanging from his mouth watching the entrance gate of the loading dock. 

"All I don't understand is why you wanted to meet him here. After all, we're Romani blood right?"

"Yes Arthur."

"And Luca's Italian blood?"

"Correct"

"So why the fuck are we meeting at the fucking Jew's shipyard?"

"I actually agree with that. Why are we here? Isn't it suppose to be neutral ground or what not?" John chimed in and even Tommy tilted his head in concession. Even he wasn't sure why you choose to meet Luca in Alfie's territory. He would have rather met in Charlie's yard, but you'd insisted on being here, in the small boat yard on the edge of Alfie's territory. 

"Simple. If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed."

"That's some wise fucking words if I've ever heard them, poppet." 

Turning around you smiled at the approaching gangster, his loyal dog strolling a few steps ahead. Reaching out you began to coo at the large dog who was eager to receive his belly rubs. Playing with Cyril always improved your mood. You ignored the groans of your brothers and John grabbing on to Arthur's coat to he decided to lunge.

"Hello Arthur!"

"Fuck off!"

"Oi! No fighting," you interrupted getting between the two men, "Now he may hate you all, but he can still hate one more than the other so let's not push it."

Alfie nodded his head mockingly behind you as you gently shoved your eldest brother away. Sending him back to his seat, you gave Tommy a short glare for not stepping in, to which he just shrugged, and then turned towards Alfie again.

"But really why are you here?"

"Can't a man walk his own property?"

"Sure, but you said everything would be ready for when Mr. Changretta arrived. You're not suppose to be here. It's to be a private affair."

"And it is. Just making one last check to see if you lot are all ready and make one last proposal of my own. Also I wanna remind ya not to get any blood on my dock. Just had it redone all nice and such. I wouldn't want your ugly guts staining the finish. I saw their ugly fucking cars pulling up down the street on my way in. Should be here any minute. It's a shame thou init? Pretty thing like you is too good for any of these cunts. If you'd like I can kill them all now and you can run with me, eh poppet? You can play with my dog any day you want." 

You laughed as both Arthur and John stood up this time with indignant protests. Even Tommy tensed up and turned to glare at the man who had spoken.

"Alright then Mr. Solomons," you drawled, patting the man's chest, "While that is just a lovelyoffer, unfortunately I am already taken for," a quick glare at Tommy, "though you're welcome to leave the dog anytime. He's such a lovely boy." Cyril wagged his tail at the attention shoving his head into your leg like an over grown cat looking for head scratches. Ones you were more than happy to oblige.

"Well then, I best be off now haven't I mates? Unlike you lot I know to appease a pretty woman with her desires. Y/N." Alfie nodded his head as he stared to head off, Cyril waiting until his master had called thrice before leaving your side. It wasn't until they'd both rounded the corner when the company you'd finally be waiting for arrived. Three black cars pulled up smoothly before coming to a halt. From your place in the shipping yard you watched nine men exit the cars. A few more than you had expected but still not any issue.

Your brothers walked up first, and you saw Tommy moving to shake someone's hand. The man was tall with dark slicked back hair and he wore his hat slightly tilted on his head. He looked stupid. In his mouth sat a toothpick that he seemed to enjoy munching on as he listened to your brother speak. He looked like a cow when he did that you'd stubborn decided. A stupid cow. A handsome cow. But a handsome stupid cow. Stupid. handsome. cow man. asshole.....ok so obviously still you weren't happy to be there. After all, this was the man who threatened to kill your entire family. Even the children, and you made a habit of disliking anyone willing to harm children. They didn't have to want any of their own or even like them in general, but to be willing to harm something so innocent to the crimes being punished seemed wrong to you. So even without meeting the man you knew you despised him. What kinda lowlife monster would be willing to hurt innocent kids to get his revenge? ....Evidently one you're brothers we're willing to marry you too. But was there really no other deal he'd make for peace? Well....If things went to plan you were about to find out. 

"I'm glad you were able to consider my proposal Mr.Shelby, I think it's much nicer this way isn't it?"

You didn't even try to hide your disbelieving laugh as the New York Gangster's words reached your ears. Immediately the attention went you, and since he was closer now, you could see the faint outline of a permanent  stubble outlining his lower face. Stupid veryhandsome cow man. As he looked towards you for the first time Luca raised and eyebrow.

"Do you find something amusing?"

Tilting your head slightly, you smiled with a false sweetness. Out of the side of your eye, you noticed your brothers tensing up slightly. Be it from the fact Luca was so close or that you interrupted their conversion. Either way, they began to notice the glint in your eye. And slowly they were regretting allowing you to meet Luca before the wedding. As if an introduction at the alter would have been any better.

"Yes. Very amusing in fact. See, I came here thinking it was ME being proposed to," clasping a hand mockingly to your chest you continued, "But here we are and the only one being romanced is my beloved brother. ...Well, romanced isn't the word, that's got to be the shittiest proposal I've ever heard. 'I'm glad you've considered my proposal'.... poppycock! Aren't you Italians suppose to be good at this romance shit?"

Arthur choked on his tongue besides you as Tommy spoke your name in warning, which you ignored. Luca moved his toothpick around his mouth and he gave you a once over. If you hadn't already been set on hating this man, his stare would have sent a pleasant shiver down your back in a way few could these days. Finally, letting out a small but still amused hum, Luca reached out to shake your hand. 

"Y/N, I presume?"

"Shelby. Y/N Shelby....Miss Y/N Shelby is my name. And you are too close, back up," you stated firmly. The special emphasis on both 'Shelby' and 'Miss' was more than enough to let anyone know your feelings on the current situation. Luca only raised his eyebrow again and rescinded his unaccepted hand. 

"I'm Lu...."

"I know who you are," you interrupted.

"Really," Luca queried. Surely you didn't know enough about him then if you were treating him so flippantly, he thought. He was the man determined to end you entire bloodline only a few weeks ago. You should be terrified of what would happen if he decided he didn't want to marry you!! But no, he thought, instead you were....

"You're the man who thinks finger paintings are scary."

Luca's toothpick fell from his mouth, while John could be heard covering his laugh. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice became slightly darker.

"What did you say?"

Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he stepped forward to put himself between you two. But before he could open his mouth to take control of the situation again, yours opened first. You waved your hands around in sarcastic  excitement as you spoke, imitating the man's voice.

"What were you helping 'mama' with her lesson plan one day, making hand turkeys and decide, 'ohhh THUMBS! Terrifying?! That'll be a great way to show people not to mess with me!'"

Luca's eye twitched and if he hadn't already lost it, you were sure he would have snapped the toothpick between his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.

"Watch your tone with me woma..."

"OR WHAT? You'll send me a finger painting?"

Arthur wrapped an arm around your waist and began to pull your back. No, he didn't like how Luca was speaking to you, but he also didn't want you to start a war of your own today. Even if he had a good idea you'd win. And yet still you weren't deterred. 

"Can it be pink and have confetti? OOHH or maybe it can be red like the blood that's gonna run down your throat when imaamuahhh," Arthur hissed as you bit the hand covering your mouth, but it was enough time for Tommy to finally step in again. Briefly...

"She doesn't mean that. It's the fa..."

"He's right! I don't!" You interjected again, freeing yourself of your eldest brother, "I'm not actually a fan of blood, so I won't slit your throat, but I'd be carefully of the champagne at the after party. Never know what slips in the cups these days..."

This time it was John who grabbed you, though not as roughly as Arthur, but luckily for everyone you had finished.... for now. The entire yard was silent and even Tommy was at a small loss for what to say. Truth be told he didn't know if there was anything to say. It was a long enough shot to convince Luca that marriage would be a way to end the vendetta and now here you were, possibly ruining that chance within half an hour. While he could understand your anger, there was still a part of him that was annoyed at the fact you could be so tactless. Another part though, the part that was still your big brother, was incredibly proud and resisting the urge to laugh at your comments. Luca however, remained unimpressed.

"My apologies, Miss Shelby," Luca restated, started to become more than annoyed with your antics. Surely, you knew that he was the one holding the power here? If your family had it, there was no way they'd have even considered the marriage. He was the one holding all the cards and you were instead choosing to act as though this entire plan was your idea. In a quieter, and deceitfully threatening voice, Luca ignored your demand for space and leaned closer to your ear. "Though, one would think for a woman in your situation, you'd be a little more welcoming to your fiancé. After all, I've been so generous to reconsider my previous message of vendetta, haven't I Bella?"

John could be heard whispering to Tommy, probably demanding to be allowed to hit the taller man, but he was held back. Again, you ignored your brothers instead focusing on the man before you, who's just said one of the worst things he could have.

"Generous? You think you're generous to try and force a woman into marriage and take her away from her family? Is it generous to not to kill children in exchange for someone else's freedom? Do you expect me to be happy, fucking happy, to have to spend the rest of my life with you when I don't even know you? I don't who you are or what you might do to me. You expect me to just follow your every whim and play housewife, knowing that one day you may kill me to go after my brothers? Is that what you define fucking generosity as," you fumed, just as angry as you were when you first learned about the new deal. "Well, if that's generous then damn all of the generosity in the world to hell! I agreed to come here today to meet you for my family. I am agreeing to consider giving up some of my freedom for their safety, when I'm not even the one who started this whole mess. I could have said no. I could have left them to fend for themselves and likely die over a needless feud, but I didn't. Because I was the one who decided to be generous. I am the one willing to give up something good that I have, to keep spending bad from happening to someone else. That is generous. My drawback for their benefit. I didn't have to do it but I did. Because I love them. So unless you're more incompetent than you've come off so far, I'd try thinking of a better word than generous for that little statement if I was you," speaking tersely you dared Luca to question your speech. Then taking a deep breath you closed your eyes off a moment.

His last comment had thrown you off, setting you off in a way you hadn't meant to go. And while your words were true, this isn't where you wanted the conversation to go. Not if your plan was going to work. It couldn't work if you'd pushed Luca too far too fast. He needed to be in just the right spot for the biggest blow to make the most efficient impact. Sighing, you straightened your shirt and looked down at your shoes. Your glare dropped and an almost desperate look appeared in your eyes briefly. 

"Besides.... is it too much to ask for a proper proposal? Like the one from a story that makes you dream of true love," Tilting your head in an almost wistfully sad way, you'd met Luca's gaze again, noticing that by some miracle he's eyes had softened just slightly. "Even if it's not true it would be nice to pretend wouldn't it? To actually be asked to be one's forever even if it seems there's only one answer? Can't I at least be granted that?"

Luca thought for a moment, taking the time to pull a new toothpick from his pocket. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder, he saw your brothers staring at him intensely from a few steps behind. It crossed his mind that if he truly did want to, he could kill you here and now. Because he really did have the power in this fight. You stood within half an arms reach and the eight men he'd brought with him far outnumbered your three brothers. It could be an easy fight, over in mere seconds, damned how neutral this ground was suppose to be. He could kill you all now and the vendetta would be settled, AND he wouldn't ever have to deal with your infuriating brothers or your even more infuriating comments ever again. You had showed him no respect up to this point and if it were anyone else they'd have been dead after the first interruption. But you weren't dead, and for some reason, some unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, Luca wanted do keep it that way. So he unwittingly did exactly what you wanted him to do. 

"You want a proper proposal," Luca drawled, his eyes falling to your lips once and his voice was calmer now, almost softly curious, like he sympathized with your plea, "Is that it? Me asking you, and that's all it'll take for this to be done? You'll be good and stop fighting?"

Smiling sweetly again, a more genuine smile this time you nodded, clasping you hands together and placing them behind you almost shyly as you rocked your feet. It was a complete change from your attitude moments ago. Like all it took was to believe someone was listening to you, for you to become this sweet little demure creature from the fairytales his mother taught in her class. 

And somehow, naively Luca didn't realize the fairytale of your own act now. Giving a pleased smile, at what he assumed was your acceptance of the deal, he nodded, silently agreeing to your desires. Despite your beliefs Luca didn't think of himself as a monster, nor did he want an unhappy marriage either. He didn't necessarily care if you loved him, but it would be nice if he knew you wouldn't betray him. And if he could please his wife, he figured life would be so much easier for him in that matter. So he supposed he could give you this one thing you seemed to so closely desire. Besides, there was, again, this almost funny feeling that had settled in Luca's stomach. He couldn't say what it was but there was apart of him that was almost.... excited to be able to actually propose to you instead of just meeting you at the alter. It was something he couldn't explain and wouldn't admit yet but it was there. And so the next words from his mouth would seal both your fates.... or so he thought as he took the toothpick out of his mouth to fulfil your wish. 

"Y/N Shelby? Would you like to..."

"Wait, not like that!"

Luca froze, his head tilting in confusion at the light frown that has formed on your face. Your brothers, as well as Luca's own men could be here whispering in the background. None of them were really sure what was going on now, but none of them moved, all equally curious to see where this was going. 

"Not like that? Didn't you just say you wanted me to propose?"

"Yes, but I also said propose properly," you insisted, "if you don't do it the right way it may as well mean nothing." 

"And what exactly does 'proper' mean by your standards? What do you want me to do?" There was a small amount of sarcasm in his words due to a voice in his mind that was starting to get annoyed again, but Luca ignored it. It didn't even take you a second of thought before your smile returned. As had the look that worried your brothers in the first place.

"It means get on your knees Mr. Changretta."

Silence echoed across the entire shipyard. Almost all the men present stood in shock, eyes wide, even Tommy at what you'd just said. Luca however just tilted his head to the side, his hat looked straight now, processing. The deceptively sweet smile still lingered on your face as you waited for a response.

"You said to get on my knees.... to propose to you?" he repeated slowly, wanting to confirm you'd actually just demanded that of him. He wanted to be sure you had the audacity to order such from him. 

"I want you on your knees Luca....now."

....

Luca listened. 

For some reason, one nobody would ever be able to explain, he did as you said. The toothpick was clenched tightly between his lips as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, eyes locked with yours the entire time. His men could be heard whispering to each other behind him, and Luca knew he'd have to have a talk with them later about what they saw. Luca took a deep breath in, contemplating if this was actually going to happen, if he was actually doing this....Evidently he was. 

"Y/N Shelby..." he paused a moment as you stuck out your hand indicating he should take it... He did. You couldn't see it, but Tommy was looking up at sky, lips tightly together trying to hide his smirk. John and Arthur did have to turn around to hide their grins now too. Luca started again. The words were spoken with a slight hint of sarcasm as he repeated by the title you'd reminded him of earlier. Luca tilted his head in question, and if he did it any more his hat probably would have fallen off. 

"Y/N Shelby, Miss Y/N Shelby.... would you do me the honor of marrying me, Luca Changretta, and become my wife?"

"No."

Luca almost choked on his toothpick, he inhaled so quickly, his cheeks darkening a slight tint of red. You hadn't even paused for a moment to think, bluntly rejecting the man on his knees before you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you smiled again, though now Luca could see the true meaning of the look and realised that you never had any intentions of accepting his proposal at al. You just wanted to make a fool out of him down on his knees. Quickly, that embarrassment turned to anger as Luca shot to his feet, pulling you closer by the hand and seething in your face. Behind you, your brothers shot into action as well, all tensing up and reaching for their guns. But they knew that even if necessary, they'd have no shot as you were practically shielding Luca with you body because if where they stood. 

"That's is enough! Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking make me kneel..."

"Step back Luca," you interrupted, undetected by his ranting, but he ignored you.

"Don't tell me to fucking step back woman. If you think you can treat me...."

"Step back Luca," you repeated again calmly, but it only served to anger him more.

"STEP BACK! Step fucking back!! I will stand wherever I fucking want to stand," and with that he stepped even closer, to where the tip of his nose was touching yours. "You don't seem to understand anything going on."

"Actually I..."

"NO! Your precious brothers are going to have a bullet coming out of every fixing hole they have in ten seconds in you don't fucking listen," His hands were on your shoulders know gripping you roughly. The toothpick in his mouth almost stabbing you in the face as he spoke. "You are not the one in power here, I am. You do not make the calls, I do. I am the one who can tear apart everything you hold dear." Luca leaned his head back arrogantly, looking down at you over nose. He was still less than an arm's length part. "I have nine men and you have three. So who's to fucking stop me from killing your brothers and having my way with you right now?"

A shot rang though the air.

Luca's toothpick was still in his mouth, but now half of it had been blown to sawdust by the bullet passingly cleanly before his face. 

You just smiled...

"I told you to step back Luca..."

Every man in the ship yard ignored you, reaching for their guns, trying to find the shooter. Even your brothers looked around, slightly panicked, not knowing who fired the gun.... Or whose side they were on. The surprise of the shot, had loosened Luca's grip on you as you freed yourself and took a few steps back. Two more shots rang out from somewhere, landing close to Luca's feet, creating more space between the pair of you as he stumbled back. Then the shipyard went quiet again. Not a single man moved, for fear the next shots wouldn't be so harmless. Still searching for the ambusher Luca turned towards Tommy.

"I thought you said this was neutral ground! It's suppose to be private," He demanded, completely ignoring the fact he, himself had just threatened you on the very same neutral ground.

"It is. Or it's fucking suppose to be. I have no clue what's going on," Tommy replied, just as concerned. He should have known Alfie would play dirty. He hadn't counted on you doing it either though.

"But it's just that Mr. Changretta," clasping your hands together, you started towards the Italian man again, having no fear of getting shot. "As I told my brothers earlier, 'If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed.' And I promise, Alfred Solomons hates both of you."

Luca huffed and narrowed his eyes. "I suppose this was your doing too?"

"Of course. See that 'you' is spelled without an 'me'.....and me, well I, have a very good relationship with a certain man's dog. And it is just amazing what a man will do when his dog likes you."

No one spoke so you continued. Though your face remained composed in an accomplished grin, you were almost bouncing on the balls of your feet due to your excitement. Your plan was going very nicely. Laughing, you carelessly spun around once, observing the mass of boxes and boats and building around you.

"They're amazing are they? Snipers? Could shoot your hat off from half a mile away  and you'd have never even heard the shot. Do you know how many snipers during the war were Jews? I don't, but I understand that Mr. Solomons employee a decent number of them. And when my dear friend heard of this whole marriage ploy?.....Well he righteously shared my outrage and offered to help me." Now you had taken to walking circles around your target. Now Luca realised that it was in fact you who had all the power, since the moment his tires hit the yard's ground. "And luckily for you, I did manage to curve his "help" from something a little bit less...murdery? Perhaps. After all, I do prefer to avoid violence if I can. There are so many more civilised methods than that...And finally we settled on this. The 'official engagement' taking place in this very yard, where I politely ask you to rethink your offer. And if you don't, we try to renegotiate.... and if you don't agree to that.... well. Luca you were wrong earlier..... I have far more than three men. All of who are very inclined to keep me safe. Now they've been instructed not to injury unless necessary, but that doesn't mean they can't give a warning shot. It doesn't mean they have to either. They were being very very nice just now. And you can't see them, but I promise they've had their sights on you for a while now. Why not give them a smile and then I'll tell you how this is gonna go." You opened your arms wide as if showing off everything. Luca just watched chewing on the half of his toothpick that remained. 

"How what's gonna go?" It actually wasn't Luca who spoke up. Nor was it your brothers. One of Luca's men, had asked the question. You turned and smiled at the man nodding you head once as if pleased that someone was participating. Luca made a mental note to beat the man later for encouraging you.

"See I really don't want to marry you. I don't love you. I don't even know you. There's also the fact you threatened everyone I love. But I also understand you and my brothers' small minds are incapable of imagining deals involving anything other than fighting or fucking and I don't particularly want to do either of those things with it right now. So I've come up with a new plan and who knows, maybe it'll work out in everyone's favour. Are you ready to hear it?" You paused waiting for a response. When none came you raised and eyebrow and made a point of glancing towards a rooftop over Luca's shoulder. "Do you want to know how this will work Luca?"

"Fine."

"Perfect! So you WILL take back your little finger paintings, but I will NOT be marrying you anytime soon. However, for the good of our families I am presenting another option. Luca Changtetta, I will NOT marry you on a whim, but," You paused for a moment for dramatic effect, waiting until Luca tilted his head. "Should you agree... I will let you take my hand in courtship for one year. And I promise it will not be easy for you. If you manage to whoo me, the you can have your marriage. If not.... Well then I should hope by that day we are close enough friends to put the past behind us and everyone can go their separate ways."

Luca tilted his head in confusion, "What?"

Bloody hell, this man needed to pick up a romance novel. Huffing slightly your reworded your demands. 

"Luca, you have a year to date me and make me fall in love with you. If you do I'll marry you. If not the you have a whole year to give up or come up with a better plan than killing everyone. Got it?"

"Why the fuck didn't you just say that in the first place? And what if I don't want to court you?"

"Because I didn't wanted to. And if you don't want to play then you can give up now or let the snipers play target practice."

Luca nodded his head and thought for a moment. The right choice was obvious as the fact that you were crazier than Alfred Solomons. After all, first you were threatening to kill him for trying to marry you, and now he had a year to change your mind. Luca's hand was still wrapped around his gun and he had half a mind to use it. The only thing keeping him from shooting you was the fact he knew, he'd have at least five bullets in him before he pulled the trigger. The obvious choice was to walk away now and give up the vendetta. You had just told him he could stop and you all could go your separate ways. No one else would have to die. All he had to do was give up, admitting you'd outsmarted him. He'd have to admit that you did hold all the power. 

"Well, Mr. Changretta? What do you think of my proposal?"

Luca didn't like admitting anyone else had the power... Even if looked very good on you. And so his choice was made.

"I suppose I better learn your favorite type of flower amore."

"Whatever kind you're most allergic to Romeo"

.....

And so it began...

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎞️“Nice.”

[kte-alxxndr]

masterlist

fluff angst smut peaky blinders

fic recs of our favorite gangster

i'm also planning on rewriting my stories

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning. 

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied, 

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.” 

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied, 

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none. 

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder, 

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.” 

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London. 

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed. 

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family. 

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home. 

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed, 

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it. 

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood. 

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words. 

“It my fucking brother!” 

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness. 

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway. 

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath. 

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett. 

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so. 

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand. 

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away. 

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend. 

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her. 

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street. 

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke. 

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister. 

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun. 

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes. 

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said, 

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking, 

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply. 

“I know.” 

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group. 

“She knows, brother.”  They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout. 

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home. 

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Clementina pt1

A/N: hello! This is my first fic and hopefully you enjoy it. It was originally just a one shot fanfic but I didn’t realise how long it was going to be so I’m thinking it will be at least two parts but if you want it be a full series of how the Shelby’s adjust to clementina then just let me know! And if you already gathered, this is based after the scene in season 5 ep3 when Tommy and Polly visit the nuns at st Hilda’s. Hope you enjoy!. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: the Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight. pt2: pt3: pt4

Word count: 1,567

The early sunrise fills the Shelby manor, the home of Thomas Shelby and his son is strangely quiet considering it is nearing six am on a Saturday. Commonly, the maids would have Charlie up and having his breakfast by now. however, the only noise filling the silence was the ticking of the small clock on the wall behind Tommy's desk in his office. Inside the office, sat Tommy and his aunt, Polly. accompanying the pair were five piles of old folders sitting on Tommy's desk and on the floor beside Polly's discarded handbag, which she placed there no less than seven hours ago. these folders currently hold the information of the young girls who resided in St Hilda's orphanage.

Two days prior, the aunt and nephew visited the nun-owned orphanage after Tommy had received a concerning report, from a young girl who recently left the care of St Hilda's after turning 18, about abuse that was occurring within the walls of the orphanage. after the rushed meeting, Tommy stopped the funding he was providing and Polly requested the folders of every girl in their care so they could place them into new orphanages ran by the Grace Shelby foundation. Tommy and Polly didn't expect was the folders arriving two hours before midnight and there to be nearly three hundred folders. they knew the orphanage was overrun but not that much. For the past seven hours, the pair had been reading and placing the folders into different piles for the different orphanages that they were going to place the girls in. Most of them were in Birmingham but the occasional one was in London or Manchester.

They were getting close to finishing, having only a handful left to read. this allowed Tommy to have another smoke break. he stood by the double-glazed windows, staring out to the fields watching as his horses walked around slowly and ate freshly cut grass. the room was still quiet, except for the reoccurring sound of Tommy blowing out smoke and inhaling every few seconds. However, the sound of Polly gasping under her breath catches Tom's attention, making him turn around, “Thomas” the middle-aged woman whispered, “You need to see this” she states, her voice full of shock.

Tommy frowns as he walks back towards his desk, “ what is it, ey?” he questions curiously, the newly light cigarette hangs from between his lips.

“Just read it Thomas” she sighs, Polly begins to bite her nails. a habit she does when she is stressed. Tommy opens the folder and begins to read the information, which was written in a hurry because the handwriting was messier than the others.

Tommy was confused at Polly's reaction, to him this was just another folder detailing information about an unwanted little girl placed into the orphanage five years ago. that was until he read the section about her parent....he slams the folder down on his desk and puts his cigarette out into his ashtray, he rubs his hand down his face, a sign he was stressed “ fucking hell” he grumbles, staring at the folder.

“ fucking hell indeed” Polly agrees, watching her nephew across from her “It seems you have a kid sister, out there Thomas” She shakes her head in disbelief, she knew Arthur Shelby Sr was known to sleep around but she did not expect to have another Shelby stuck in this world because of him. Polly grabs the folder again and begins to re-read it.“ another fucking Shelby” Polly chuckles under her breath, Tommy was quiet as he thinks about what they should do. he knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her into the world of crime that the family were involved in but he knew Polly wouldn't let him leave her in the care of an orphanage.

Tommy suddenly stands up, grabbing his jacket “Pol, ring around, tell everyone to be here in three hours” he demands, walking out of the office not telling Polly where he was going and he didn't give her the time to ask either because he was out of the house and into his car in the record time of three minutes.

By the time everyone was around the Shelby manor, Tommy was back from wherever he left. He walks into his office. Polly was sitting on the chair was was sitting on earlier, Ada was sitting on the leather seat by the bookshelf with Karl standing beside her. Arthur was standing by the windows with Finn beside him. They were all waiting impatiently for him

“ thank fuck for that, thought you'd never turn up” Arthur states annoyedly. His hands are in his pockets.

Ada rolls her eyes at Arthur’s language “What’s the emergency that made you wake me and Karl up at six in the morning?” She questions Tommy.

Tommy walks over to his desk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket “Me and Pol have been sorting through the orphan girls' files” he explains, sitting down at his desk.

Finn frowns “And what’s that got to do with any of us?” No one answers him, he was allowed to come to meetings but he isn’t allowed to contribute to them

Tommy lights his cigarette and inhales then exhales smoke before he begins to talk again “There’s a girl, who might be of interest to us” he looks towards Polly.

Polly smiles slightly “Her names clementine, nine years old” she explains, looking around at the Shelby siblings.

Ada shakes her head “Why would a little girl be of interest to you Thomas” She narrows her eyes slightly, feeling suspicious of Tommy.

Tommy rolls his eyes slightly and leans back into his chair “Her mother died when she was four, she was left with her drunken father, who lasted three months before he dropped her off at St Hilda’s” he repeated what he read in the file, three hours prior.

Pol sighs “ for god's sake Thomas, just tell them” she demands irritated, she sits up straight “Her fathers name is Arthur Shelby sr” she announces. The atmosphere in the office quickly changed, you could hear a pin drop from how quiet it became. Arthur coughs and runs his hand through his hair, confused as fuck as to what was happening.

Ada stands up and walks closer to Tommy's desk “We have a sister? And she’s still in that orphanage after what you found out” she states, taking the folder from Tommy's hand as soon as he takes it out of the drawer in his desk. She shakes her head and walks back over to her seat.

Tommy pours himself a glass of whiskey “Me, Arthur and Polly are going back to the orphanage to get her” he explains.

Arthur frowns “We are? Linda wants me back for dinner” he explains, shifting from his left foot to his right foot, his body language showing he was nervous since he knew what his family thought of Linda.

Polly grumbles “ I’m sure she can wait” she states, her voice filled with venom as she looks towards Arthur “We are saving a little girl from abuse” She stands up and walks over to Arthur “Not just a little girl, your sister, a Shelby”.

[skyeeuphixia]

𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚢 // 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎?

finn shelby x sister oc (florence)

summary: in which finn is left forever broken

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warning/s: blood, violence, death, grief, emotional distress

words: 1010

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When Finn and Florence Shelby were born, they instantly became the pride and joy of their families lives. They were loved by and doted on by their older siblings, the two of them could get away with close to anything, even Tommy would crack when he watched as his baby sister looked up at him with her big blue eyes that matched his so perfectly.

Despite each of them having particularly close relationships to different older siblings, Florence being especially close to Tommy, and Finn close to Ada, no one could deny the bond the two held with one another, they all saw it from the day that they were born and the two of them grabbed each other’s hands as they slept in their cot. Being twins they were connected on a deeper level than normal siblings. Aunt Polly pointed it out days after their birth. If Florence cried, Finn would cry. If Finn was happy, Florence was happy.

“They can feel each other’s feelings” she claimed.

For a while, the other Shelby’s brushed off their eccentric Aunt, they were babies reacting to the world around them, of course one would start crying if a baby started screaming in their ear. But as they grew older, their Aunts words became truer and truer. The twins would occasionally finish each other’s sentences, or say things at the same time, they could predict the others feelings even when they weren’t around each other. They couldn’t feel the others pain, but if Finn was in pain, physical or emotional, Florence knew, and vice versa.

They never provided much explanation as to what it was they felt, they simply placed their hands on their hearts stating that ‘they could feel each other’.

“Gypsy twin magic” is what they called it.

As the twins grew older, their differences emerged. Finn was street smart, Florence was book smart. Finn wanted a dog, Florence preferred a cat. Finn was eager to be more involved in the business, Florence wanted to be involved with business as little as possible. But despite their differences, they were just as close as when they were children. At 16 years old, they had never spent more than 24 hours away from each other. You would never see one twin without the other and if you did, something was likely very wrong, especially with recent events. Ever since Tommy’s wife, Grace, had died and things had been getting more tense against the Changretta’s, the twins had been ordered to never leave each other’s side and to protect one another, which they didn’t need to be told twice.

However it made moments like this more frustrating. Family meetings had to take place somewhere different every time they were held, it lowered the risk of the Changretta’s targeting them all at once, as they wouldn’t know where they are, Florence, ever the good girl of the family was often first to the meetings, and could almost always guess when Finn would come crashing through the door, panting dramatically as if he had sprinted a 5k. But now, the family had to wait for the two of them to arrive at the Garrison together. And Tommy was getting impatient.

“They should have been here by now,” Tommy says as he paces the room, more on edge than ever.

“’ave a bit of patience Tommy.” Arthur calls out, already half way finished a glass of whisky, “They’ll be in ‘ere any moment, Flo dragging Finn by the ear, scolding ‘im for making her later,”

Their aunt however was less convinced. She was good at sensing when things were wrong, and the pit in her stomach was growing more and more as the twins refused to appear, “Somethings not right,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Then, as if summoned by the collective fears of his family, Finn stumbled through the door. His face was deathly pale, eyes void of any emotion other than pure shock, but most significantly, in his arms, he was carrying Florence’s lifeless form. Her skin was as pale as ever, and she was drenched in blood from a bullet wound in her forehead, that was staining Finn’s white shirt.

Finn had barely processed what happened, he remembered hearing a gunshot, running to where he knew his sister was, and shooting his own gun in anger, that was all he could remember, but hearing the horrified gasps from his family, everything in his brain clicked. He didn’t hear himself scream, or the pain in his knees as he dropped to the floor, all he could do was sob as he desperately clutched his sister and held her close to him, desperately willing for her to wake up and end this nightmare.

The rest of the Shelby’s watched the scene in horror. Ada was sobbing into Johns side, as he held onto her burying his face into her hair to hide his own tears. Arthurs fists were clenched in fury, hardly being able to keep himself from smashing everything in the garrison.

Tommy’s ever cold and distant look had contorted into anguish at the loss of the sister he held so dear, “Not Flo…” he whispers, a quiet plea to whatever higher power there was to give her back to him.

Aunt Polly was the only one who could will herself to move over to the twins, kneeling down next to Finn, holding as much as he’d let her and placing a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, trying to hold herself together for him.

“I only left her cause I forgot my cap,” he whispered, his voice shaky and laced with guilt and self-hatred, “I knew Poll…I knew something was wrong, I could feel it…here,” he said, as he pressed a trembling hand to his heart, his sisters blood staining a red handprint, “It felt like I was dying, and then it vanished…”

“She’s gone…I can’t feel her anymore,”

And the family knew, then and there, the twin flame had burnt out,

and Finn would never be the same.

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(fin)