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peakbys · 6 months

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Pairing(s): Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader, Luca Changretta x Wife!Reader Summary: Your little double life starts to unravel when your husband shows up to avenge his father. Request: Yes. Sorta. → @alana000 requested the reader in a love triangle between Tommy and Luca, I ended up combining that with my idea for Tommy's poll result and my brain kind of just ran away with it. So, it may not be exactly what was requested but I hope it's enjoyable regardless. 😅 Warnings: Long post, cheating, tension, mentions of arranged marriages, poor Italian, friends to lovers to enemies (if you want to interpret it that way, ending is left as it is.) Eye contact (for the gif?) Note: This is hard to wrap up in a one-shot, so I'm sorry if the ending is less than ideal. Still, I've been working on this thing for weeks so I hope you all enjoy.

You had just wanted to ride horses.

Of course, life was never so simple, yet it really didn’t need to be as complicated as it was currently. You had left America feeling uncertain, but excited. You wrote back home whenever you could, especially once you managed to make a bit of a name for yourself in horse racing. Really, you wanted to move onto training, yet you knew you could race those horses too. It was extra money, of course, but something you earned on your own. It wasn’t passed down from your family, your husband’s family. Though, in hindsight, you had to wonder if this really was the place you were going to end up all along.

When you had made a bit of a reputation, it brought the attention of some people that operated in a way you were all too familiar with. Crime was in your family, and it was certainly in the one you married into. It didn’t take long to figure out what was being asked of you when you were asked to take the fall sometimes. Horses lost races, yet that didn’t mean that you couldn’t benefit. At least, that was how it had been explained to you back when your pride was too stubborn to accept that you’d participate in fixed races.

Yet, the opportunities got harder to turn down after a while.

Your involvement with the Peaky Blinders was something you left out of your letters outside of vague gesturing toward ‘buyers’ and ‘bosses.’

Tommy Shelby was definitely a person you didn’t write back home about, as much as he was a very common face in your life over the last couple of years. In a strange way, Tommy had a demeanor that was overly familiar too. You had associated it with controlled movements, sharp grins and the chewing of a toothpick. With him, it was a neutral expression and a stare that felt like he was looking through you at points. Yet, both your husband and Tommy had the same commanding air that pulled your attention to them as soon as they stepped into a room.

Outside of the wounded pride that came from losing a race you were certain you could win, that alone had almost been enough to call off working with him. You had more than enough of that back in America, and you didn’t want it here for however long you were planning on staying.

Though, Tommy proved up to your expectations in that he was very hard to ignore.

It had started off friendly enough–professional, despite the nature of what you were doing. More races won, a few lost with a wad of cash tossed into your lap with a vaguely smug look also tossed your way. It was profitable, so it was easy to stick with. Tommy brought horses to you, sometimes, too. Beautiful creatures. If there was something that easily bonded you to Tommy, it was the horses. The conversations got easier and more frequent. Longer, too. You could remember the mild surprise that crossed your expression when he asked about something more personal than the horses and the races.

That was what had you both sitting outside your little ranch home that you were living out of currently, talking about your family, America. Your late brother, especially, given that he had passed in the war and Tommy revealed that he had fought as well. Your brother had joined in hopes that maybe it would be something noble–something that wasn’t crime and making his living from getting involved with the families in New York. Dying in a trench so far from the people who loved and knew him didn’t seem very noble in your mind, especially with the memory of how your mother wailed when she got the news.

Yet, you got a sense of understanding from Tommy that you hadn’t expected to find. It opened the door to some…very troubling feelings.

You had initially tried to dismiss them as the similarities with your husband causing you to feel homesick, but that really wasn’t the case and you knew early on that you were lying to yourself about that. Given that the majority of letters that you wrote back home were to your mother-in-law, outside of the odd one you got directly from your husband when it seemed like he had the time, it was hard to ignore the growing distance that had festered. It had lingered in the background before you left America, and it only grew once the physical distance was there.

Still, you had been quick to state that you were a married woman when it felt like Tommy was catching on to your conflict. Didn’t change much, however–it was a weakening defense and you both knew that.

It resulted in a moment of weakness that haunted you, one that had your loneliness and conflicting emotions taking control. When it came to money, you knew things could get rough. In the back of your mind, you knew there could be some volatile tempers. Yet, you figured some people might not take that out on the riders.

A man cornering you in the stable one night proved you wrong about that, however. Your feet barely scraping against the stable floor, his hands wrapped around your throat while you tried to talk him down through what little space he gave your windpipe. Between the pressure on your neck and the tightness in your chest from your lungs begging for more air, Tommy’s arrival was lost on you until the man released his hands from around your neck.

You could remember the way you crumpled onto the ground, coughing harshly and gasping in air. You had registered the threats uttered and the shine of Tommy’s pistol, yet it wasn’t until he helped pull you to your feet that reality had come back around to you.

–

“Come on. Sit over here.”

You were used to his usual calm, straightforward approach to most things, yet at the moment it seemed at least vaguely caring. It was hard to tell with Tommy, yet you didn’t have the energy to really dig too deeply into that. As much as your pride wanted you to hold your head up and shake off the guiding hand on your arm, you were focused on trying to still the racing of your heart and ease the tightness in your chest.

“He really wasn’t here to talk,” you commented once you were sitting down in a chair, holding a hand to your neck still. “I should’ve known better.”

“Don’t think it would’ve stopped him any,” Tommy replied, “Least I’m not down a good rider.”

“I appreciate the concern,” you commented around a bitter huff, though the touch of amusement in his gaze settled that feeling easily enough.

“I was comin’ by to give you this, anyway,” Tommy continued after pulling up a chair and passing over your cut of the winnings from the race. “Just in time, too.”

You nodded lightly, carding lightly through the cash as you counted quickly in your head. Something you had always done since you started working for him–suspicious at first, more like a force of habit now. In the current moment, however, it was more like an excuse to not have to look at him while every swallow and movement of your head reminded you of the forming bruises that you’d have to cover for the next while.

It had never been in you to enjoy being rescued, yet you certainly knew that could have been worse if he didn’t show up when he did. You could feel a ‘thank you’ forming on the tip of your tongue the more you thought on it, though the feeling of his fingers under your jaw had you stilling. He tilted your head up somewhat, the action pulling a small wince from you as he examined the marks on your neck.

Your gaze remained locked on his face as he did so and even after he shifted his hand to let you lower your head again. The tight feeling in your gut cropped up again, a familiar sensation when you looked at Tommy these days. A fluttering feeling that was both familiar and unfamiliar in a sense. Something that you had talked yourself into feeling over time with your husband, yet with Tommy it had formed on its own.

It scared a part of you, yet you found yourself unable to pull away. Especially when you felt his hand shift along the back of your neck, a few seconds of hesitation and a sinking feeling until his mouth pressed against your own.

If it had been you who leaned in to kiss him or if he crossed that line himself, you didn’t know. Yet, you found yourself returning it all the same, a hand coming up to cup the side of his face. You lost track of reality for a few moments–it was just you and Tommy, his lips, his tongue. His hands on your shoulders, waist, lower back. The excitement about the kiss made your gut twist, heat in your face. There was relief in there, too.

Finally, you felt like someone wanted you. You weren’t an obligation, or worse a charity case. Your first kiss hadn’t been forced, yet it felt more like it was something you should do. To prove a point, an intention. It wasn’t like this with your husband.

That thought hit hard, sinking into you like a heavy stone just as you could feel both your own and Tommy’s hands venturing further. You were married–and kissing your boss in the stable of a racetrack while your husband was an ocean away.

Shame burned hot in your gut as you pushed Tommy back, standing quickly to put some distance between the two of you. The look he shot you was calm, as if he expected this. Your marriage wasn’t a secret, he knew what he was doing too.

“I…shouldn’t have done that,” you said after a few moments, tucking your earnings into a pocket. “Thank you for the help, Mr. Shelby. Goodnight.”

–

Naturally, you didn’t talk to him much after. You wanted to, the thoughts tumbling around in your head, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. The situation didn’t stop you from feeling relieved about his attention shifting away from the races after a while, however. You still raced, listened to the directions that would come in about certain horses and races. Things were normal, stable, and it was like you could just forget what happened. Things were calm. That was, until word got back to America that Sabini was having issues in London. It was a bit of a surprise to you that you weren’t asked to get involved. At the time, that is.

It was something that was brought up in some of the letters–more of a warning at first, just keeping you informed in case you did need to make a move in the name of your husband’s family. You usually weren’t set to do those things, however, so you didn’t expect much outside of a possible trip to London to see what information you could get from the Italians there.

That was, until your brother-in-law was killed. Things were a bit of a blur after that.

Everything had escalated well beyond anything you had imagined and it seemed unavoidable how the two sides of your life were now overlapping.

It was what had you pacing around the lavish room that you had been told to move to. It was very similar to the one that you had stayed in when you had joined your husband for a family wedding. The very event that put the idea of moving away from America for a couple years to begin with.

A maid had been in and out over the last couple of hours, leaving you food and drink when you asked but otherwise gave you a polite distance. You appreciated that, despite the fact that no amount of food or tea could settle your nerves.

You hadn’t unpacked, your little suitcase sitting by the door. It would look a little odd, you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

All you could do was wait, wondering how all of this would play out. The letter had been vague, just the address that he said he’d be staying at and that you should be moved there by the current date. It didn’t do anything to reassure you, obviously. A part of you just wanted to know. Another part of you just wanted to see him–as if seeing your husband would clear all the muck from your head and it would be easier to think.

So, naturally, you were jumpy by the time you heard the door open. The maid always knocked, so it was clear who it was.

Luca hadn’t changed much in the three years you had been away, dressed in his typical dark attire. Expensive, tailor-made and you knew how much he seemed to care about his appearance. That had initially struck you as pompous when you had first met him, yet you had quickly grown used to how connected his family was and it seemed to be more so about bragging about his family’s reputation. You knew it pleased him when you humored the expensive clothing and gifts–a little less common as the years passed, you had noted.

At the moment, you couldn’t help but feel almost…underdressed. A number of things had changed, in more ways than one. You still didn’t know how you felt about the situation or what you even felt in the moment you saw him again.

Regardless, you worked up a somewhat tight grin and approached him, Luca removing his hat to place on the desk nearby.

The rings on his fingers were cold as he cupped your face, pulling you in to press a lingering kiss to your mouth. Your hands came up to rest on his wrists, finding an odd sense of comfort in the familiarity of it. Yet, it was lacking now. You knew that. The memories of Tommy that cropped up made that sharp edge of shame known in your gut, yet you still managed to keep the small grin on your face as Luca pulled back.

“Carissima,” he said, hands still cradling your face as he ran his thumbs along your cheeks, “Non sei invecchiato di un giorno.”

“Nemmeno tu,” you replied, the words heavy and cumbersome on your tongue. Luckily, Luca just grinned, dropping his hands to wag a light-hearted finger at you.

“You promised me you’d still practice your Italian.”

“I don’t get to use it often,” you replied, “Not a lot of Italian speakers around.”

“Should’a listened to me about movin’ to London,” Luca commented, “Be with the family. Though…well, maybe it was good you didn’t.”

“Right…”

You let out a soft exhale through your nose, watching as he circled around the desk slowly as if he was looking for something. The atmosphere shifted as soon as the topic was brought up, your gaze following his movements as you tried to gather together something to say about it all. Killed his brother, his father, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that he was there to drag you back to America. Luca glanced back up at you, almost studying you for a moment.

“Ma’s told me a few things she’s learned about you, too,” Luca stated, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as your heart jumped.

Still, you held his gaze, expression impassive. It didn’t seem likely that she would know about what happened while you were staying overseas, yet it didn’t ease the feeling like you were looking down the barrel of a gun.

“I told her quite a bit in my letters–you, too. In the ones you read, at least,” you replied, crossing your arms as he moved to lean against the front of the desk.

“Left out some details,” Luca said, “How you’re racin’ horses in the tracks managed by the Peaky Blinders.”

“It’s hard not to if you’re looking to fix races,” you said with a nod, feeling that tight not in your stomach loosen somewhat. “I didn’t make it a habit to dip my hand in that. When your horses get a reputation, there’s some interest. I might have been approached, but I can’t say I’ve had any personal interactions with them.”

“No Tommy Shelby?”

“Not personally,” you lied, “I know of him.”

He met your gaze without a reply for a few moments, arms crossed in a way that almost mirrored your own. A part of you wondered why you were protecting Tommy–of course, you didn’t want Luca to know of certain details, but clearly you didn’t swear any loyalty to him or his gang. Yet, you did so anyway. Luca eventually nodded lightly, pressing his lips together in thought for a moment before he stood up to approach you once again.

“I was hopin’ you might have some information that might make this easier, but you’re just racin’ horses.”

You could almost hear a touch of something to his tone, yet it didn’t seem he was willing to make that clear or say what he was thinking. It didn’t sit all that nice, but you figured if he was suspicious of you, you would’ve known. (You hoped.) Still, you gave him what you hoped was a convincing enough apologetic smile as you reached out to rest your hand on his cheek.

“I know what you’re here to do. I wish I could give you more information than that,” you said, “As I said when I left, I didn’t want any involvement in that business and it’s been kept that way. If I had known…”

“I wouldn’t want you catchin’ a bullet anyway,” Luca replied, “Though, you remember anythin’ or might be leavin’ anythin’ out…”

“I’ll tell you,” you said with a small grin, “I wouldn’t want you catching a bullet.”

“They can try,” he stated before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Quicker this is done, quicker we can get back home.”

You hummed in response, not quite agreement. As much as you were uncertain about the outcome of all of this, you had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be dealt with so quickly.

*****

As much as you knew you shouldn’t be out by yourself, especially with the fact that this vendetta business could escalate at any moment, you didn’t think too much of it.

There was an issue with one of your horses back where you were staying, and you knew suddenly disappearing would look odd to anybody who was paying attention. You were on edge and alert, yet you figured it would be best to look as if things were business as usual. Family was visiting, you were staying in a hotel.

Yet, you couldn’t help but notice the quietness of the home. If there was an issue, you figured there would be a few different people running around. You frowned as you pulled up to the property, noticing that the stable was empty. You clenched your hands around the steering wheel of the car, ready to pull out at a moments notice. Though, the familiar figure standing outside the home, near the very chairs you had sat in when you chatted over the years.

You debated leaving, but thought better of it. While it seemed unlikely that he didn’t know the people he was up against, you didn’t want to appear too suspicious if he hadn’t pieced together your involvement.

Regardless, your approach was guarded, eyeing Tommy with a questioning gaze as he moved to step down from the porch.

“Long time since I’ve seen you last,” you greeted, “...It’s very quiet out here for the emergency I was told to come see.”

“Right…” Tommy replied, his expression unreadable as he approached you. “I had to get your attention somehow. Someone here said you are staying elsewhere for a few days.”

“Family’s in the country for a while,” you replied casually enough, “I didn’t want to drive back and forth.”

“Family. Well, I guess you really should see this, then,” Tommy stated, finally pulling a hand out of one of his coat pockets.

He extended what looked like a photo, folded at a particular edge. You paused for a moment, looking into his impassive stare before you reached out to take it.

Unfolding it completely, you were greeted with a wedding photo filled with familiar faces. The family wedding from a couple years ago, a seemingly routine celebration for the most part at the time. For the Changrettas, at least. Of course, standing just along the folded crease was you standing next to Luca, a faint smile on your face with your arm interlocked with his own. You had only seen the photo once when you had returned to New York after the wedding, yet it really turned out to be a terrible reminder that you weren’t as well hidden as you thought sometimes.

“I did tell you I was married,” you stated, finally glancing up to meet Tommy’s gaze, “Though, with what your family’s done, I guess this really changes quite a few contexts.”

“My family…” he repeated, you catching a glimpse in his expression that you never really saw. It was sharp, angry. It had you propping a foot back in case you needed to step away from him as he stepped a little closer to you. “Your family…killed me wife and my brother.”

“Yes. You killed my husband’s father and brother. Spared his mother, which was a mistake. If you’re here to kill me to think you’ll get a leg up in this, I wouldn’t. Luca’s old fashioned–wants this done by tradition. As I’m sure you know. Yet, you kill me, I can’t say he’ll not just put a bullet in your head on principle. Considering you had to lure me out here, you have no idea where he is, right?”

He didn’t say anything, lingering close as you looked up at him. As much as you knew he could kill you where you stood–there was enough spilled blood on his side to warrant it. Yet, there was that part of you that was fond of him. Felt something–might not have been deep or fully developed. It might never be. Yet, you knew you had a bit of a leverage here. You knew how to survive–keep your head down, do things for the sake of connecting your family, and taking advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves.

“I like you, and I didn’t come to this country with the intention of getting wrapped up in a vendetta between you and my husband’s family,” you continued, “So, I’ll say this. I’m not here to be your enemy, yet I will do whatever I need to in order to get out of this alive. Luca, on the other hand, knows how to hate and will not stop until one of you is dead.”

“I don’t need a lecture on the vendetta,” Tommy stated, “If you have no involvement, you’re a citizen in my eyes. I would be very careful about crossing that line.”

“I’d be careful about crossing Luca Changretta,” you replied, “As it stands, I don’t know enough about you to give him anything of value and I have no obligation to tell you anything more about him. Give me a chance to get out of this alive, and I may change my stance on the latter.”

“You’d sell out your own husband, eh?” Tommy asked, tilting his head somewhat as you continued to meet his gaze.

“Arranged marriages can be tricky.”

“I can’t make any promises, Mrs. Changretta.”

“Then I guess we’ll see how this all plays out, Mr. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #luca changretta x reader

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peakbys · 6 months

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Going into this one-shot I'm writing, I did not expect to enjoy writing Luca Changretta as much as I do. Might have to put him in regular circulation around here.

#admin post.#peaky blinders x reader #anyway that's coming when it does but I've been having major brainrot about it lately so it'll be soon #my one (1) bi-monthly fic before I crawl back into the depths #but I recently left a soul-crushing environment so I might actually be around more I already feel my creativity coming back

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peakbys · 7 months

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Hey there!! I'm opening up writing commissions over the next couple of months in hopes of making some extra money. I'm struggling to make ends meet and my student loans only scratch the surface given the gouging in grocery prices in Canada and the housing crisis. I am really only trying to keep myself and my cat fed and healthy.

So, if you enjoy my writing (writing blogs listed below) and want a commission, please feel free to send me a DM on here or one of my sideblogs listed.

Fandoms I'm currently writing for: Red Dead Redemption, Stranger Things, The Last of Us, Peaky Blinders, and a few others I can't think of off the top of my head but feel free to ask.

Things I'll write: x reader fics, oc×canon, canon×canon, ocxoc, smut, gen fic, kinks (excluding anything mentioned in the following paragraph) and in-character letters.

Things I won't write: Any sexual content regarding minors, r*pe, incest (including adopted family) and bathroom play.

All payments will be taken via PayPal with half of the payment taken upfront (unless $10) once I agree to the commission.

PRICES:

Drabble (500 words) - $10 USD

Personalized Letters (500 words) - $10 USD

1000 words - $23 USD

2000 words - $46 USD

3000 words - $65 USD

4000 words - $85 USD

5000 words - $95 USD

If you can't commission, a reblog for signal boosting would be just as appreciated! <3

Writing blogs under the cut.

@tiredcowpoke @canadiansummer @joelsmorality @peakbys

#admin post #writing commissions #posting this again because life sucks #any help is appreciated <3 #also I see the request in my inbox! I'll try to get to that when I'm able <3

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peakbys · 8 months

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#admin post.#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #alfie solomons x reader #also since I can't edit it - Alfie*#gotta love typos 😔

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peakbys · 9 months

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A MINUTE AND GONE

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Summary: Quieter moments with Tommy almost feel like you're in another world, and you can't bring yourself to walk away when they present themselves. Request: Yes. → @runnning-outof-time asked: Hi there! I saw that your requests were open and couldn’t pass up on the opportunity - you’re such an amazing writer! Would you be willing to write something for Tommy using the prompt "I believe this belongs to you." ?? I’m not sure how you feel about prompts, but I’m not the best at requesting things and so they’re always a go-to for me. Feel free to ignore this if you’re not interested. Thanks so much in advance if you choose to write it! 💕 Warnings: I went into this with the intention of fluff, but it got more angsty than intended. So, heads up for a dysfunctional relationship and reader's conflicting feelings. There's still some lightness to it, ofc. It's a mixed bag. Note: Thanks for sending this in! Took me a minute to get around to it due to life, but I hope you enjoy it!

Things were never simple with Tommy.

Sure, you knew what he and his family were, yet it was difficult to be pulled into that life from what would have been considered outside. Even with the close and intimate relationship you had with Tommy, it was a hard feeling to shake. Outsider, not really allowed in too close. Whether that meant you not being too involved in the business or not being allowed too deep into Tommy’s mind depended on the day, sometimes. For a while, you had accepted that. Some days, you accepted that the human mind and heart was too complex for a simple black-and-white idea that he didn’t have room for you.

There was always someone else, you knew that. It filled you with such bitterness sometimes, and yet in others you supposed you could understand.

It had you feeling like you were being torn between two mindsets on it. Sometimes you swore you were done, that you’d leave. Other times, you just couldn’t shake him and you found yourself trying to just make it work to the best you could. It was overly complicated, sometimes too much to really explain with words. (As much as you caught the odd knowing look from some of the other Shelby women.)

Perhaps that was why you weren’t berated too hard for the little outburst you had the other night. Usually, you did your best to keep that behind closed doors, yet it felt like you couldn’t really stop it from coming out when it did. A little spat and argument at a public function with Tommy didn’t seem too bad for what you had seen in pubs and other functions like that, yet a part of you couldn’t help but kick yourself when the anger had subsided. Yet, your pride wouldn’t let you admit that in the moment. Really, you were stuck with some feelings that were all too familiar.

Anger, discarded, hurt, like you couldn’t compare or compete. It wasn’t until a few days after the event that you realized it was that sense of competition that caused you the most issues.

That night, Tommy hadn’t really done anything to set you off. Other times, definitely, but that fact had settled in when you had fallen asleep without saying another word to each other. You were lashing out from an insecurity that had plagued you long before you even got close to Tommy, but it certainly had a lot to play off of with him. That realization had come with a heavy pit of embarrassment that took another day before it was too much for your pride to push back.

Apologies weren’t always a huge struggle for you, but when it came to things like this? It was hard to form the words. You knew you didn’t want to pick at it, make things worse, but it was more like you didn’t really have the words for the explanation that followed.

It was with those thoughts you found yourself approaching his office, stepping inside with somewhat slow, cautious steps. You shut the door behind you softly, lingering by the door as you took in the scene before you.

It was almost ill-fitting, how beautiful the day out was.

It lightened up the room, giving a natural light that seemed all too inviting. As much as Tommy had only given you a flicker of his gaze in your direction in acknowledgement of your presence, even he seemed relaxed. He was notoriously difficult to read, sometimes. Expressions flashing in a small flicker on his face, his eyes more cold than you could stand at points. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, especially when things were rough.

On the other hand, ironically enough, he was easier to read in neutral moments like this.

He was focused, yet he didn’t seem that frustrated. A touch bored, maybe, but nothing that really suggested to you that you couldn’t approach him. That you should rethink your intentions on showing up there.

With a small, reassuring breath out, you finally approached him.

“Are you busy?” you asked, placing your hands on the back of a vacant chair in front of his desk.

“I’m always busy,” he replied matter-of-factly, “This can wait, though.”

Tommy looked at you, then, giving you his full attention. His expression was neutral, gaze expectant. You had a hard time not meeting his gaze, feeling your fingers dig into the back of the chair somewhat as a sense of nervousness settled. You couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been easier if he had just let you talk while he worked, yet you knew this was the best way to do this. In a way, you were almost intimidated by the genuineness of it.

“I…wanted to apologize,” you stated after a moment, “For what happened a couple of nights ago. That it’s taken this long to even say that. I was…lashing out over something that wasn’t anything you caused. I was acting like a frustrated child. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

He seemed to take that in for a moment, meeting your gaze before he leaned back in his chair somewhat, the touch of a grin crossing his face.

“Believe it or not, that was not the first time someone’s lashed out at me in public,” he replied, “I thought it was something like that. I’ve already forgiven it.”

“I…still wanted you to hear that. From me,” you said, taken a little off guard by the casualness of the conversation. Yet, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how he’d react anyway.

Despite only giving you a nod in return to that, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief upon hearing his words. There it was again, pulling you back toward him again when you had promised yourself, yet again, that you weren’t going to. A part of you knew that it would probably do you better to actually say what you mean–to actually explain your behavior outside of acknowledging that it was out of line.

Yet, a bigger part of you in that moment was just tired. Of the overthinking, the seriousness, the isolation, the frustration–all of it.

You knew you let it win when you backed away from the chair, but didn’t leave the room. The wheels in your head had started to turn, and the idea that formed was quite appealing. If he’d humor it, you supposed. It wouldn’t hurt to offer. With some mild amusement, you stepped forward as you fought to keep a small grin from slipping onto your face.

“Well, if that’s how it is…” you began, pausing a moment before you held your hand out toward him, “I believe this belongs to you.”

It was hard not to grin at the slight confusion that settled into his expression, his sharp gaze searching your own as you flexed your fingers somewhat invitingly. Amusing as it was, and you didn’t want to ruin the moment by spelling it out for him, yet you knew you wouldn’t leave him in suspense for much longer. Though, after a few moments, you realized that you may not have to. The realization that settled softened his expression, his eyes brightening in a similar amusement.

Tommy’s smiles were rare–the full ones, at least. The ones that almost changed his face and let you catch a glimpse of someone he might’ve been before the war and the world he lived in hardened him. The ones you were fortunate enough to catch always seemed to catch you off guard–in a good way, at least. So, it was hard to hold back the one you were hiding when he gave you one at that moment.

“Now you want to dance, eh?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“I promised,” you replied with a light shrug, still (somewhat awkwardly) holding your hand out.

You had left that night before you had gotten the chance, and you figured perhaps this would be a good signal to show that you really just wanted to move on from the whole thing. You knew it didn’t solve what caused it in the first place, but it was hard to make the decision to ruin a moment like this. Despite everything, moods seemed high and your resolve had crumbled plenty over the last couple of days.

Luckily, it seemed like his resolve didn’t need much poking to fall in that moment, either.

“You’re leadin’, then?” he asked teasingly as he took your offered hand, which prompted a small chuckle from you as you pulled him further into the office where there was some more space.

“I barely know how to dance as it is, so no,” you said, letting him pull you in closer to him.

Tommy slipped his arm around your lower back as you rested your own on his, your free hands entwining in what was a loose representation of waltzing positions. You tried to mirror his movements in what was a light sway, no music and much too close for what it probably would have been if you had managed a dance that evening. Yet, you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that, sinking into his touch as you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

It was odd. For all the violence that Tommy had within himself, it was moments like the current that surprised you. The small, tender moments that he could show behind closed doors or with people he trusted. So, in a way, you supposed that it had to mean something that he was willing to do this so freely with you. Yet, it was hard to say that with much certainty, especially when it came to Tommy.

Yet, despite the doubts, it really only had you grasping these moments alone with him all the tighter.

“...I don’t know if I understand you, love,” Tommy admitted quietly after a few more moments of your silent dancing. You couldn’t help but let out a soft huff at that, almost a touch bitter.

“Next to you, I must look like a half complete puzzle at worst,” you replied, somewhat muffled as you still were pressed close to his shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe we just don’t know each other that well,” you muttered, although you knew the proximity and the quietness of the room would allow him to hear every word of that.

You weren’t entirely wrong, either. On your own side, at least, but you doubted if he wanted more out of this than the odd event and nights spent together that the crumbs that he knew about you would be enough. Really, maybe a part of you should have realized that he wasn’t someone who would just let you in easily–from what you knew about him, that made complete sense. In a way, a part of you knew that was the case and made sure not to share more than what he gave you.

You weren’t without your own walls, after all.

Still, it seemed like it was enough to keep you around. The rope that kept you close to him certainly pulled tight at points, but it hadn’t snapped just yet.

“We’ll do somethin’ soon,” he said, pulling you back into the current moment. The certainty of it caught your interest, as much as a part of you hated that it did.

It was odd to hear–for the most part with him it was a lot of ‘try’, ‘maybe’, and ‘might.’

“Just you and me,” he continued, making you pull back somewhat to look at him, “We’ll go to London, take the car into the country or the horses. Whatever you want.”

“I’d like that,” you replied with a light nod, not ready to put much stock in his word about things like this. You knew that his life could change depending on the day. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a pit of hope that settled in your gut.

Yet, in your mind, it was still another ‘maybe.’ You accepted the lingering kiss he pressed to your mouth anyway, still holding onto that light feeling in your chest that had built up throughout the last while with him. As it was, in that little world in that moment, you wanted to pretend that you could trust that.

In time, maybe you actually could.

#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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peakbys · 9 months

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Just a reminder that I am open to requests on here! I'm slow with my long-fics because I'm an insufferable perfectionist, but I'd be happy to write one-shots and whatnot between doing that. Feel free to drop by my inbox if you wish!

#admin post.#peaky blinders x reader

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peakbys · 9 months

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Hey! I’m opening writing commissions again since I’m trying to make ends meet. (Medication, starting HRT, cat food, litter, and groceries for the most part.) I’ve been doing some original work commissions for a while as well, but figured I’d actually just make an etsy shop. You can find most of my information on the listing itself.

So, if you want to help a struggling trans creator out, please feel free to check it out.

#;signal boost #[8 slots are still open if anybody's interested! I'd be happy to do x readers!]

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peakbys · 9 months

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Homecoming is already such a masterpiece.. you’re so talented!!!

omg thank you!!! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

#admin post.

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peakbys · 10 months

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Send this to ten other bloggers you think are wonderful- keep the game going and make someone smile! 💕

This has been sitting in my inbox for forever, I'm so sorry. But thank you so much! c:

#admin post.

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peakbys · 10 months

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HOMECOMING [2/?]

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Fem!Reader, Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Summary: Despite everything, somehow the roads you walked always ended taking you back to Birmingham, and to the odd relationship you had with the two eldest Shelby boys. When your aunt passes away and leaves you her home, you don’t find yourself in a position to refuse and realize that a lot of things aren’t how you left them in Small Heath. Warnings: Death, mentions of abuse (not graphic), burns, cigarettes. Note: This took way too long for how short it kind of ended up being, but thank you all for the patience and interest in this series. This is a pretty Tommy heavy chapter, but the next ones should see some even development of dynamics. I also have this set a little before season one, so some familiar events will start to happen soon. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Tag list (to be added just leave me a comment!): @adaydreamaway08 @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @babayaga67 @everythingelseisextra previous part.

It was strange how it took so long for everything to actually hit you.

Sure, you had gotten the letter with the news, had seen her grave and spent the night in her home–your home, now–yet it wasn’t until the next day when reality seemed to sink in.

You never really had a solid home life, your early memories almost blurred and the ones that were still vivid you actively tried to repress. It hadn’t been until you were thirteen when you had experienced what it was like to have an actual parental figure in your life, a solid place to sleep at night that wasn’t under the condition that you had to work to keep it. Naturally, it had taken a long while to adjust when you were thirteen, but now? It almost felt like you were thirteen again, not sure what to do with yourself, where to take things.

There had been more visitors since your return outside of Tommy and Arthur, though those interactions almost passed by you in a blur too. Mostly condolences, you giving vague explanations of what you had been doing for the last couple of years, some tea and food while you talked about your aunt.

There had also been no hints toward why your aunt had been paying the Peaky Blinders. That, or people knew not to mention it. You weren’t sure which was worse.

By the third day, you could feel yourself starting to unearth some memories you had long since buried. Much like a spade digging to the dirt, you felt like you could see bits and pieces coming up with each passing moment. Some fragmented memories from the workhouse, some of Canada. Things you had thought you had finally let go of–it had been easier when you had found family, people who actually remembered you and could place you in the world. That you weren’t someone with no ties anywhere, just existing.

Now, with your aunt gone, it made you feel like you had lost that connection. Yet, that was hard to explain when you were asked about how you were coping with her passing.

It didn’t take you too long to reach a bit of a breaking point when the image of one of the kids you had worked with back in Canada, laying on the floor after he had taken a hit across the back of the head from an enraged farmer, popped into your head unprompted. It caused your hands to shake, a sort of vice-like grip coming over your mind as if you couldn’t take your eyes off the image–like you were back there again in person.

It caused you to accidentally pour scalding water over the back of your hand while you were handling a kettle from the stove.

Instantly, the pain pulled you from your head, making you let out a string of curses that you were grateful nobody was around to hear. Shoving your hand under some cold water in the sink, you hissed at the pain that had tears pricking at the edges of your vision. You pulled the kettle from the shove, shutting it off as you wet a cloth to wrap around your burned hand. You let out a shaky breath as you shut your eyes, wrapping it tight as you willed your heart to stop hammering away in your chest.

You needed some air–to get away from the quiet house and dead plants.

******

While you hadn’t spent your whole life in Small Heath, you had spent enough of it there that you still knew your way around. And where some of the quieter bits were. There had been countless times where you had scampered your way between some houses to hide near the river to avoid punishments, sometimes to just be by yourself after an argument, or you just enjoyed the spot. You liked to think you were old enough now to where you didn’t feel the need to hide from your mistakes, but the last couple of days were making you question that.

Still, with the clutter in your head, you almost walked down a familiar path between a couple buildings near your aunt’s home. Despite the years that had passed, it didn’t seem like it had changed too much and the small, quiet area that greeted you was a relief.

Yet, you were acutely aware that wandering around by yourself, especially down the back areas, wasn’t the safest.

So, despite your attention being on adjusting the rag over your burn (it wasn’t helping much, at all), you instinctively tensed up when you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the way you just had. You stood up, ready to slip away further down in order to escape down another street, yet seeing someone move out into the open told you that train of thought was too late. Yet, despite the bite of anxiety that gripped tightly at your mind, it only took you a moment before you relaxed somewhat when the familiar face registered.

With a small exhale out of your nose, you moved to sit yourself back down on the box you had been sitting on previously, feeling almost embarrassed.

Though, if your reaction was noticed, at least he didn’t comment on it.

“You’ve been picking fights?” Tommy asked, finally moving to approach you.

“Hm?”

You glanced up at him, brows furrowed, until he gestured toward the hand you were currently cradling. Despite the situation, you found yourself letting out a small, amused huff out of your nose as you looked down at your hand, gingerly flexing your fingers. You were aware of him sitting down on a box next to your own out of the corner of your eye, knees almost touching.

“Just with the kettle,” you replied, “I was distracted and burned myself.”

“If you run into Ada, perhaps she can look at it,” Tommy commented, digging out his cigarettes.

You watched as he pulled one out, perching it between his lips as an old craving resurfaced at the sight.

Given you had managed to avoid getting hooked on them, you had tried to cut the cigarettes out. Yet, moments like this, high stress or weird times in your life, you found the pull toward them resurface with a vengeance. Plus, once you noticed Tommy had caught you staring at the unlit one between his lips with a small raise of his eyebrows, you knew you might as well ask.

“Can I have one of those?”

“I didn’t know you still smoked,” he commented, pulling the one from his lips as he spoke before pulling another out, extending the one he almost lit toward you. You paused a moment before taking it from him, not bothering to comment that he just had his mouth on it.

Didn’t matter much in the end, you supposed.

“I don’t. Most of the time,” you replied, “Though, I can never quite get rid of craving. Plus, the burn didn’t blister, so I don’t want to bother Ada with it. As much as I should catch up with her. And Polly. A lot of people.”

You took his offered light, trying not to cough too much when you took a pull from the cigarette. It was a little strong, and it had been a while since you had one, so it was a bit of a failed attempt. Still, you were a little…surprised at how relaxed the current moment was. You still had some questions lingering at the back of your mind, of course, but you supposed it was better than him sneaking up on you in the cemetery.

Given that you and Arthur ended up almost pacing around your kitchen table, not sure how things would play out, it was a bit of a nice change. You knew you still had to have an actual conversation with him.

“This is near the spot where I pushed you into the river,” Tommy said after a short pause, the comment making you raise your eyebrows at him for a few moments.

“Oh, so you admit it was you then,” you replied with a short huff.

“You charged first, but I didn’t stop myself from pushing you in.”

“It’s so foggy now, I can barely remember,” you said with a soft shrug, “I probably did. I do remember my aunt was livid. She couldn’t get the smell of the river off me. Scrubbed my head down every night for three days.”

“Aunt Pol made sure I didn’t forget it once it got back to her,” Tommy commented, a touch of amusement in his expression.

Despite the lightness of the conversation, you couldn’t help but notice the change in Tommy. While you couldn’t remember him being too overly jovial, the distance behind his eyes seemed more apparent than ever. Moments like this reminded you that things had been different, it felt familiar being around him again, but it was also painfully obvious how things had changed. A little more strangers than friends at the moment, you supposed, but a part of you felt comforted to know that you weren’t the only one who could remember you growing up here. As much growing a thirteen year old could do in a new place, anyway.

Still, with the memory of your aunt at the forefront of your mind, you couldn’t help the questions and thoughts that pushed forward.

“I hope you weren’t lying about my aunt. That she passed naturally,” you said after a somewhat drawn out pause. “Considering how she is–was, it is hard for me to imagine what reasons she had to pay you.”

“She was sick for a while,” Tommy replied, glancing over at you finally, “I didn’t lie. It was sudden, but her wanting protection didn’t cause that.”

“Did she owe debts? Got caught up in something? If I should keep up her payments, it’s clearly something that didn’t disappear when she died.”

“Your aunt got involved with someone who had connections to some bad men,” he explained, “She saw some things she shouldn’t’ve, came to us for protection. Arthur especially felt obligated to help, I suggested she could be put under our protection. That our name might deter them.”

“...She conveniently left that out of her letters,” you muttered, shaking your head lightly. “These men are still a threat, then?”

“Yes. Not for long, though, if I can help it. For now, I would still think about what I told you in the cemetery,” Tommy replied.

For your health and sanity, you didn’t want to be involved in Shelby business, yet it was becoming clear you might not exactly have the luxury. Then again, being friends with the two eldest brothers, it might have just only been a matter of time. Still, you took in a small breath, rubbing at the side of your head with a small, humorless chuckle.

“Unless I can find what I need under a floorboard, I will need work to even consider that,” you stated.

“Ask Harry. The Garrison. Once I have a word, I’m sure he’ll have some work for you,” Tommy said, standing up and extinguishing his cigarette under his shoe. “I know you don’t deal well with drunks, so it’ll be behind the scenes. Consider it a gift to welcome you back.”

With a small press of his hand on your shoulder, he turned to walk back toward the alley. You watched him go for a few moments before speaking up again, letting out an almost disbelieving laugh as you did so.

“It’s not much of a gift if you take the money I earn!” you called out, getting no response but you kind of expected that.

Still, you knew that solved one issue, yet somehow you ended up having more questions than answers from the information he gave you.

#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader

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