#arthur shelby x you

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 9

Facesitting with Arthur Shelby

"A New Addiction"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my God, Arthur!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Kinktober taglist:

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)

Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE

Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.

But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.

She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.

And by extend, you are too.

Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.

TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)

ACT I.

♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes

♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared

♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞

♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour

♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes

♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned

♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞

♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams

ACT II.

♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll

♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞

♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn

♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did

♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞

♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World

♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)

♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)

♢ Ch. 18 ||

ACT III.

♢ Ch. 18 ||

♢ Ch. 19 ||

♢ Ch. 20 ||

♢ Ch. 21 ||

♢ Ch. 22 ||

♢ Ch. 23 ||

♢ Ch. 24 ||

♢ Ch. 25 ||

♢ The series can be longer.

Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.

Related works - in chronological order-

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Savage Daughter

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)

♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)

♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)

Moodboards and other content

♢ Playlist

♢ Moodboard Aesthetic

♢ Moodboard Chapter 6

♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer

♢ Moodboard Chapter 12

♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer

Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko

[runnning-outof-time]

Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Never Forgotten - An Arthur Shelby/Reader Short Story.

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

Words - 778

Warnings - Fluff ahead! :D

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, petal. Look at me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fandom-puff]

hi, congrats on 10k!!! could i request a baby blurb of reader taking care of arthur shelby? any context, just feel like i don’t see too much of him any more!! <3

Thank you! And yes, I’ve missed writing for Arthur too <3

Warnings: blood, injury, reference to fighting, swearing

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Polly groaned as Arthur and john stumbled into the snug, their faces bloody. John was holding a handkerchief to his nose, Arthur had a gash on his cheek.

Your eyes flashed as they explained the brawl they’d come from, and you rolled your eyes as John laughed cockily, before you turned to your husband.

“You. Sit,” you said sternly, hands on your hips as you nodded to the booth. John laughed, commenting that Arthur was definitely in trouble, but a glare from you shut him up.

You sighed as you fussed over Arthur, tutting as you examined his face. “Well, you should count yourself lucky you don’t need stitches,” you told him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead despite your frustration. “This’ll sting,” you said quickly, before holding a clean handkerchief soaked in gin to his cut cheek.

Arthur groaned, his hand gripping yours and you smiled weakly as he squeezed, his teeth gritted. “Sorry love,” he said gruffly. You hummed in acceptance, cleaning his wound.

“You’re forgiven,” you told him fondly, kissing him gently. “Now hold that on your cheek until the bleeding stops, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Thanks love, patching me up… don’t know what I’d do without you,”

[zapreportsblog]

↳ strong woman ↲

✭ pairing : arthur shelby x reader

✭ fandom : peaks blinders

✭ summary : arthur shelby finds himself a good woman, she’s got her own job and her family adores him, and she can hold her own. What more can a man ask for ?!

✭ authors note : oh wow this is my first peaky blinders fic. I’ll make a masterlist for this too at some point if it becomes a hit or if requests for them begin flowing in but for now sit back and enjoy the show :)

✭ peaky blinders masterlist

The air inside The Rusty Nail was thick with the pungent aroma of stale beer and the raucous symphony of clinking glasses and hearty laughter. Dimly lit by the feeble glow of flickering bulbs, the bar seemed like a haven for those seeking refuge from the hardships of life. Amidst the haze of cigarette smoke, Arthur Shelby sat perched atop a barstool, nursing his umpteenth drink of the night.

The creak of the wooden floorboards signaled the entrance of a group of rowdy patrons, their faces flushed from a combination of liquor and bravado. As Arthur took a casual sip from his glass, his eyes locked onto a man with a sneer that suggested trouble. The tension in the air grew palpable as harsh words were exchanged, and before anyone could react, the first punch was thrown.

The bar fight erupted like a storm, tables overturned and chairs clattering to the floor. Fists flew and curses echoed in the confined space, drowning out the hum of conversations. Arthur, never one to back down, found himself amidst the chaos. The clang of punches landing and the grunts of pain melded together in a discordant rhythm.

Arthur's instincts kicked in, his senses honed by years of living on the edge. He bobbed and weaved, delivering calculated blows that found their mark. A swing and a swift jab sent his adversary stumbling backward, crashing into a table and knocking over a tower of glasses. The crowd roared with approval as Arthur stood victorious, his chest heaving and his knuckles smeared with blood.

As the dust settled and the brawl subsided, Arthur's adrenaline-fueled courage began to wane, replaced by the effects of the alcohol he had consumed earlier. His steps grew unsteady, and he stumbled towards the exit. The world outside was a blur of shapes and colors, and he leaned against the doorframe for support, struggling to maintain his balance.

Suddenly, a warm voice cut through the haze, like a lighthouse guiding him through the fog. "Are you alright, son?" a kindly older gentleman inquired, concern etched into his features. Arthur's words slurred as he attempted to respond, a mixture of incoherent mumbles and drunken laughter.

The older man's eyes twinkled with understanding, and he gently placed a steadying hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You've had a bit too much, I reckon. How about I take you back to my home? You can rest up until morning."

Arthur nodded, his gratitude evident despite his intoxicated state. With the stranger's support, he navigated the uneven pavement and stumbled into the night, leaving behind the tumultuous scene of the bar. As they walked, the city lights flickered like stars in the sky, and Arthur felt an odd sense of camaraderie with the man who had extended his helping hand.

Guided by the older man's steady arm, Arthur stumbled along the sidewalk, his world swirling in a haze of alcohol and exhaustion. The crisp night air cut through his stupor, offering a faint semblance of clarity. Finally, they arrived at a modest home, its windows glowing with warm light against the darkness.

As they stepped through the door, a woman's voice called out from the living room. "Darling, dinner's gone cold. You know how forgetful I am with the oven timer." The older man led Arthur forward, and the woman's gaze shifted from the untouched dinner to Arthur's disheveled state. "Oh my," she exclaimed, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in surprise.

Her voice carried through the house, and before long, the soft patter of footsteps echoed down the stairs. A young woman, her hair tousled and eyes bleary from sleep, appeared in the doorway. "What's going on, Mom?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

The older man offered a reassuring smile to his wife before turning his attention to their unexpected guest. "This young man needs a bit of help. Looks like he had a bit too much to drink."

The young woman, (Y/N), stepped forward with a mix of sympathy and determination in her eyes. She wore a simple nightgown, her presence both soothing and vibrant against the backdrop of the late hour. "Let's get him settled," she said, her voice calm and soothing. Together, the three of them carefully maneuvered Arthur towards a spare room at the end of the hallway.

With gentle hands and steady guidance, they eased Arthur onto the bed. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. Arthur's eyes struggled to focus, but the kindness in (Y/N)'s eyes was unmistakable.

"He'll be fine in here," the older man said, his voice laden with concern. "Rest up, young man. We'll make sure you're alright come morning."

As Arthur settled into the bed, his thoughts began to blur into incoherence. The world around him faded into the periphery as he succumbed to the pull of sleep. Through the fog of his drowsiness, he faintly heard the rustling of blankets and the hushed murmurs of (Y/N) and her parents as they ensured his comfort.

And so, in a stranger's home, Arthur Shelby found a refuge from the tumult of the night.

The morning sun painted the room in a warm glow as Arthur Shelby stirred awake. He blinked against the light, slowly piecing together his surroundings. Memories of the previous night trickled back, and he realized he was in a stranger's home. Pushing himself up from the bed, he rubbed his temples, the remnants of a headache still lingering.

As he made his way downstairs, the aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the air. The scene that greeted him was a picture of domestic tranquility. The older man stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand, while his wife set the table with a collection of mismatched plates and silverware.

"Morning," Arthur croaked, his voice rough from the previous night's revelry. The older man turned, a welcoming smile on his lips.

"Morning, son," he replied. "Slept alright?"

"Much better than I deserved," Arthur admitted, gratitude evident in his eyes.

The older man chuckled. "No need to worry about that. My name's Robert, by the way. And this is my wife, Eleanor." The woman offered a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Arthur," he replied, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his mind. Would they recognize the name? He was, after all, a Shelby, a name that carried weight in certain circles.

Eleanor chimed in, her voice friendly. "Nice to meet you, Arthur. Our daughter, (Y/N), helped us get you settled last night." At the mention of her name, (Y/N) entered the room, her presence as radiant as the morning sun.

"Morning again," she said with a soft smile. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Better than expected," Arthur replied, his gaze briefly meeting (Y/N)'s before he looked away, hiding a hint of surprise that his name didn't elicit any recognition.

As they gathered around the table, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like old friends catching up. They spoke of simple things—weather, life in the city, and shared anecdotes. Arthur found himself easing into the rhythm of their chatter, his guard lowering with each passing moment.

The breakfast table became a temporary haven, a place where a man known for his hard exterior found himself welcomed without judgment or suspicion. And as the meal drew to a close, Robert extended an invitation that warmed Arthur's heart.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, Arthur," Robert said, his words genuine. "We're glad to have you."

Arthur's gratitude was palpable as he nodded. "Thank you, Robert. I appreciate it."

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Arthur realized that sometimes, even in the most unexpected places, people could surprise you with their kindness. He had stumbled into this family's life under unlikely circumstances, and in doing so, had found a haven of acceptance that he hadn't anticipated.

Weeks turned into months, and Arthur Shelby found himself drawn to the haven of warmth and comfort that was Robert's home. Whenever he wasn't immersed in the world of the Peaky Blinders, he sought solace in the company of the kind-hearted family. The days he spent there became a reprieve from the relentless demands of his other life.

His family began to notice his frequent absences, and questions began to arise. "Where are you off to, Arthur?" Tommy asked one evening as they sat in their dimly lit headquarters.

Arthur shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Just passing time, Tommy. Nothin' special."

Tommy cast a scrutinizing look his way, his eyes narrowing. "Passing time, huh? You've been disappearing quite a bit lately."

Arthur's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. "Like I said, Tommy, just keepin' busy."

Tommy's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the task at hand, leaving Arthur with a sense of relief mingled with apprehension.

One day, as the sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, Arthur found himself wandering towards the small business that Robert's family owned. The scent of freshly baked goods filled the air, and the sight of (Y/N) and her mother working side by side in the kitchen brought a soft smile to his lips.

Seeing him, (Y/N) grinned and wiped her hands on her apron. "Arthur, you're just in time. We could use an extra pair of hands today."

Without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves and joined them in their culinary pursuits. The rhythmic kneading of dough, the careful measuring of ingredients, and the banter that flowed between them made the hours fly by. Arthur discovered a surprising talent for baking, finding satisfaction in creating something with his hands that brought joy to others.

As they worked, (Y/N) and her mother shared stories of their business and their hopes for the future. They spoke of dreams and aspirations, of simple pleasures and the bonds that held their family together. Arthur found himself opening up as well, sharing fragments of his own life that he had rarely revealed to anyone.

Days turned into weeks, and the bakery became a haven where Arthur's burdens seemed to lessen. The simple act of kneading dough and watching pastries rise in the oven brought a sense of accomplishment that was different from the violence and power struggles of his other life.

As Arthur walked back to his own world, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. He had found solace and acceptance with Robert's family, a stark contrast to the life he led with the Shelby gang. The bakery had become more than just a place to escape—it was a reminder that there was goodness in the world, and that he could be a part of it, even if only for a few stolen moments.

As the days turned into weeks, Arthur found himself captivated by (Y/N)'s genuine sweetness and the way her eyes lit up with kindness. He admired her for her resilience, her ability to see the good in people even in a world that often seemed so harsh. He couldn't help but notice the gentle curve of her smile and the way her laughter seemed to chase away the shadows.

Summoning his courage, Arthur decided to take a step forward. He approached Robert and Eleanor one evening, his heart pounding as he broached the subject. "I was wondering if it would be alright if I took (Y/N) out for a date," he began, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "I know there's an age difference, but I respect her and I promise to treat her right."

Robert exchanged a look with his wife, a twinkle in his eyes. Eleanor smiled warmly. "We couldn't be happier, Arthur. You've shown us your good heart, and we trust you."

Arthur's relief was palpable, and he offered a genuine smile in return. "Thank you."

On the night of their date, Arthur arrived at (Y/N)'s doorstep, his heart racing as he knocked on the door. She opened it, a hint of surprise dancing in her eyes. "Arthur? Is everything alright?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out tonight. Maybe catch a movie and have dinner."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened for a moment before a warm smile spread across her lips. "I'd love to."

As they made their way to the town over, laughter and easy conversation flowed between them. The movie was entertaining, but what stuck with Arthur were stolen glances and the sense of comfort he felt in her presence.

After the movie, as they walked down the street, the atmosphere shifted. A group of rowdy men began catcalling (Y/N), their comments lewd and disrespectful. Before Arthur could react, (Y/N) had turned to face them, her stance unwavering.

"Is this how you think it's okay to treat women?" (Y/N)'s voice was firm, her eyes flashing with a fire that took Arthur by surprise. And then, in a sudden flurry of movement, her fists were flying, her punches landing with precision.

Arthur stood frozen, watching in awe as (Y/N) held her own, her punches landing with impressive force. By the time the confrontation ended, the men were nursing their injuries and retreating, chastened by the encounter.

Arthur's jaw hung open, his admiration for (Y/N) growing even stronger. She turned to him, her cheeks flushed and her expression fierce. "Sorry you had to see that, Arthur."

"Sorry?" Arthur managed, a mix of astonishment and awe in his voice. "That was... impressive."

(Y/N)'s fierce expression softened into a sheepish grin. "Well, thanks. I just can't stand that kind of behavior."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "I'll keep that in mind. Remind me never to cross you."

As they continued their evening, Arthur realized that his admiration for (Y/N) had only deepened. She was more than just sweet and kind; she was strong and unafraid, a force to be reckoned with. And as he walked her back to her doorstep, he couldn't help but think that he had found something truly special in her, something that had the potential to change his life in ways he hadn't expected.

[wysteria-clad]

The uncrowned Princess.

paring: Shelby Siblings x sister! reader

warning: swearing, mention of blood, gun shots, violence.

summary: A glimpse of your life as the youngest Shelby sister. This takes place during earlier seasons.

a/n: before you read this one, i wanted to say if this fic sounded familiar to you, please don't report me for copying lol i posted this on my old account @pastelxskull before deactivated it.

note : This is more like a head canon / imagine thingy. p.s John never died.

i do not own any of the gifs, credits to the amazing owners/creators. if any of gif is yours, want me to take it down, please contact me.

---------

● You are the youngest Shelby, one year younger than Finn.

● Don’t even get me started on how protective your brothers are over you.

● Basically, your aunt Polly and your siblings raised you.

● Your aunt Polly was more like a mother to you and treated you like her daughter.

● Arthur is not exactly great with words but he would get you lot of dolls for you to play with and spoil you with chocolates. And he would beat up anyone to death if he finds out anyone dared to harm you.

● Tommy is the most protective of you. He would often hold you till you fall asleep in his arms. Mostly Arthur, but Tommy would too.

● John is the most fun brother to hang out with. He would play with you from throwing you up in the air and catching you to hide and seek, making you giggle.

●Ada is more like another mother figure to you due to age gap.

● You had no clue why your brothers are going when they were leaving for war, much to your dismay, you were only three years old.

● You cried first few days when you couldn’t see Arthur, Tommy and John and be with them.

● You would ask your aunt or Ada ‘Where are they?’ 'When are they coming back?’ every single day and getting a reply of 'soon, Y/n’

● They weren’t exactly the same after the war.

● You weren’t the same either. Not seeing or talking for five years will do that to you.

● At first, you were hesitant, you knew they were your brothers but they weren’t openly affectionate as before, and you spent few days clinging to Aunt Polly or clutching and standing behind behind Ada.

● But you knew their care and love for you did not change at all.

●Eventually, you got over your hesitation and fear and started to hang around your brothers more making them happy. You were the light of their life. A pure angel in their sinful lives.

● They tried to keep you away from 'Family Business’ as much as they can.

● You grew up to be a absolutely beautiful young lady, inheriting the Shelby genes.

● As you grew up, they became more protective of you, annoying you most of the times. You weren’t even allowed in the Garrison.

● When you accidentally let it slip about a boy you liked “Ah, young love” John teased you till you got red and blushy until Ada saved you from further embarrassment.

● But Tommy and Arthur did not take it well though, at all.

● Yelling at your brothers cause they always scare the guy away you have a date with.

● Secretly dating your boyfriend with your sister’s help. This is why she was your favourite sibling.

● But you got caught one time though. They were not exactly happy to find out. That's a story for another time.

● Having a closer bond with Finn as you two grew up together, some even mistaking you for twins.

Often eliciting the statement, 'Where the one goes, the other follows' from people around you.

Despite being just a year older than you, he was very protective of you.

● No one dared to mess with you, the uncrowned princess of Birmingham.

● Being a Shelby also meant you had a lot of enemies too.

● You got kidnapped that one time and the said kidnapper pointed a gun to your head not fully aware of the consequences.

“Let her go” Tommy clenched his jaw, trying hard to keep his calm.

John held back Arthur from trying to attack the kidnapper in fear of accidentally hurting you in the act.

Your enemy pulled the last straw, he slapped your face, making a terrible mistake.

Hell broke loose.

Your brothers showed no mercy at him or his men.

Your lips quivered, your eyes pooling with salty tears. You had knowledge about your family business and you knew what your brothers are capable of, but having a gun pointed to your head, witnessing the whole scene, the blood, gunshots, terrified you.

You sprinted towards whichever brother was near you, Tommy. And ran straight into his arms gripping his shirt handful with your shaking hands.

He quickly handed your quivering form to John, who shielded your view when Tommy shot the kidnapper before him and Arthur beat him to a bloody pulp. Though it didn't help you from shaking much, you appreciated John's gesture nonetheless.

Everyone calmed you down at home, or at least tried their best.

The very next day, Arthur and John began the training, teaching you how to shoot and gave you your own gun.

Polly wasn’t pleased with the idea of you shooting anyone. But she understood why.

● Michael treating you and caring for you like his sister.

● You were a Shelby. It meant more dangers and troubles, but as long as you have your family with you, that’s all it mattered and you would be fine.

[zablife]

Say Yes to Heaven

dark!Arthur x female reader

Summary: Your childhood friend, Arthur, is deeply upset when he convinces himself your boyfriend is mistreating you. Deciding to take matters into his own hands to "save" you, his protection soon grows into an unhealthy obsession. He knows he can give you a better life...if you would only say yes.

Author’s Note: Inspired by "Say Yes to Heaven" by Lana Del Rey.

Warnings: drinking, drug use, unreliable narrator, mention of domestic abuse, mention of blood, minor character death, yandere tendencies

France, 1917

“Arthur, stop pacing, you’re making the other lads nervous,” Tommy commanded, stamping out his cigarette.

“I can’t help it, Tom,” Arthur replied, biting his lip anxiously, taking another swig from the small bottle the doctor had prescribed.

Tommy wrenched it from his hands. “Stop it, man. You don’t need that stuff.”

Arthur clenched his jaw in frustration, turning his head away as he replied, “I do though. Need to forget I’m here when she’s back home…with him.”

Tommy shook his head in disbelief as he poured away the opium and bromide solution. Might keep Arthur from wanking about her, but it didn’t give him the readied solider he needed, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Nah, you don’t understand what could happen to a girl like her if I’m not there to protect her,” Arthur asserted.

“Then see to it when you get home, but don’t get yourself killed worrying about some girl who seemed happy when we left,” Tommy huffed.

Arthur’s eyes went wild at the suggestion, pushing his brother up against the trench. “You think she were happy with a piece of shit like him who don’t know how to treat her? Or have you forgot what men like that do? Like dad was with mum?” he asked, lower lip trembling.

Tommy sighed seeing there was no use arguing. “I didn’t say that, did I? I just said to make it home alive.” Then he pushed his older brother from him, watching his sibling crash to the ground, holding his aching head. Tommy knew if vengeance was what his brother wanted, he would have it. Arthur was never one to let go of a grievance. 

—————————————-

Birmingham, 1919

“Esme, I need the black star list,” Arthur said in a low voice, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he might before a fight, ready and eager for the first punch. She barely looked up as she pushed the slip of paper across the desk, unaware of what it meant to him. He immediately scanned the list for the name of his foe, heartbeat thundering in his chest with the anticipation of a righteous victor. However, it was not to be his day. 

When Arthur realized the name he sought was not on the list, he emitted a low growl of displeasure. “He fucking owes, I know he does,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong, Arthur?” Esme asked, looking up from her work in confusion.

Thinking for a moment he shook his head. “Tommy’s made a mistake, but I’ll make it right,” he assured her.

“What do you mean?” she asked with furrowed brow, but Arthur was already out the door.

——————————-

Arthur’s agitation was momentarily quelled by the sight of you walking down Watery Lane, the morning sunlight streaming through your hair. Your angelic face gave him pause, but only long enough to notice what he swore was a fresh bruise blooming just below your right elbow. His heart clenched as he noticed you wincing under the weight of the basket you carried and he was instantly transported to childhood. When you were eight and he was ten, he would rush out into the street to help you carry a bucket of ale home to your father. He knew the punishment for spilled beer and he couldn’t allow it to happen to someone so soft and delicate. Your large doe eyes urged him to treat you carefully, offering his protection whenever he could.

Approaching carefully so as not to startle you, he removed his cap to greet you. A wide smile overtook his features when you acknowledged him, a feeling of warmth radiating through his chest from a simple glance from you.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asked with a softness reserved just for you. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied brightly. As he stood twisting his cap nervously in his hands without anything more to say, you bid him goodbye and continued down the street.

“Where are you headed?” Arthur asked eagerly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed after you. He was enamored with you, openly staring at your beauty, and it made you blush. Arthur had a crush on you since you were kids which you found endearing. You couldn’t understand how others could be frightened of him in the slightest, despite your friends’ constant warnings a Shelby brother was dangerous company.

“I have to return to the shop. I shouldn’t keep James waiting,” you said, thinking of how busy the morning rush could be. 

Arthur furrowed his brow, as he remembered the scorching heat of the ovens and the callouses on your hands. He hated the thought of you having to work so hard. As his shoulder bumped against yours, he felt your bone poke back against him and worry began to consume him. He wanted to ask if you’d eaten that morning or in the last week, but thought better of it.

“How’s business?” he asked instead.

“As well as can be expected when people are still recovering from the war. James was a great help after father died though,” you praised, shifting the basket to your other arm with a grunt.

“Let me help you with that. Looks heavy, love,” Arthur commented, trying to be useful.

However, by that time you were standing in front of the shop. James peered out the front window at you, raising his cane to tap against the glass. “I have to go now, Arthur, but thank you for walking with me,” you said quickly before disappearing inside. Arthur looked up and scowled at the man in the window, taking note of the object most likely used to mark your skin. “Fucking cunt…” he hissed, clenching his fists at his side.

————————————————-

“Are there any other orders of business?” Tommy asked before attempting to close the family meeting.

“Yeah, I’ve got somethin to say,” Arthur spoke up, voice coursing with urgency.

“Well, what is it?” Tommy said impatiently, squinting cautiously through the smoke from his cigarette to study his older brother.

“When do we go after James Miller, eh? It’s been six bloody months,” Arthur sniffed disgustedly.

“James Miller? He has no outstanding debts,” Lizzie said, opening a file in front of her and scrunching her nose as she followed a column of names with her finger. 

“It’s not about money. It’s about reputation, Lizzie. Ain’t that right, Tommy?” he said, looking to his brother expectantly. “The Peaky Blinders keep order round here now and James Miller ain’t playin by the bloody rules.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose as he began to see where the conversation was heading. “Arthur, we’ve been through this already. Y/n hired James Miller as a legitimate employee. Who are we to tell her how to run her fucking bakery? Who gives a fuck?” he said, stamping out his cigarette and turning to grab his jacket off the chair.

Arthur stood a bit too quickly, nearly overturning his seat in his haste. “I give a fuck because he’s taken what isn’t his! Making her work night and day and taking all the profits.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm to make his brother look him in the eye as he stressed, “He’s hurtin’ her too, I know it.” 

Tommy took note of the pain in Arthur’s eyes. He was well aware that there were nights Arthur drank himself into a stupor, rambling about his love for Y/n. As far as he was concerned, she was the only woman in the world and he would fight to the death for her. If allowing him this one victory might bring Arthur’s mind back to business, Tommy decided to agree.

Tommy clamped a hand over Arthur’s and gave a short nod. “Alright, brother, if you’re certain. I’ll let you handle it the way you see fit.”

“S right. By order of the peaky fucking blinders,” Arthur said, savoring the words as he spoke them, knowing justice was forthcoming.

———————————-

“Open up, by order of the Peaky Blinders!” John called, nearly kicking the door in before James could open it. 

“Come here to harass me again have you?” James asked, face red with fury, picking up his cane and waving it at the younger Shelby brother.

“James, stop!” you shouted, rushing out to grab his arm. You placed yourself between him and the peaky blinders as you asked in a small, frightened voice, “What’s this about?” 

Arthur gulped as he saw you, hating to have caused you distress. “We don’t mean ya no harm,Y/n,” he said, holding up his hands. You studied his black gloves with suspicion, but decided to trust him based on the pleading look he now gave you. He looked genuinely sorry for the intrusion and you thought the least you could was listen. 

“Alright, come in,” you said, opening the door toward him.

Arthur shook his head gently before asking, “A word alone, Y/n?”

James gave you a dire look, but you silenced it with a hand to his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you promised, grabbing your shawl and heading down the steps to meet with Arthur as John stayed behind guarding the door.

“Arthur please tell me what’s happening,” you begged as you walked with him.

Arthur stopped by the alley and reached for your hand tenderly. As he did, your shawl slipped, revealing a burn on your lower arm which you quickly covered. “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I can help ya,” Arthur offered, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. 

“Do what, Arthur?” you asked. He looked so forlorn, but you had no idea why.

Arthur’s head turned back toward your shop as his eyes flashed with sudden hatred. “Be with him!”

You took a step back to see if he were actually serious before realizing, Arthur Shelby was jealous. “Because I love him…” you exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Look how he treats ya!” he said, jerking his chin toward your injured arm.

“That’s a burn from a hot pan, Arthur,” you explained quietly. 

“The hell it is! Why you covering for him?” he grunted. Then he softened as he took your cheek in his hand. “You can tell me, dove. Just cause he was here when your dad passed, don’t mean you have to let him take over. I know I was gone fighting a long time, but I’m home now. I want to be here for ya now…please,” he said, pouring his heart out in a way he didn’t think possible.

You listened intently, thinking of all the times he’d been two steps behind you, your fiercest protector since you were small. However, it was nothing more than a form of sisterly affection you felt for him and you realized you’d have to tell him of your feelings sooner rather than later.

“Oh, Arthur, I know you worry. You always have, but I’m not in trouble, you see. I’m in love and we’re getting married,” you said with an encouraging smile. You searched him for a response, but he remained stone faced before you.

Then suddenly something unexpected happened. Arthur’s features contorted into an expression of pain and his face and neck turned to a deep shade of red as he fixed you with a perplexed look. Unable to contain his humiliation at your rejection he shouted, “There’s no ring on your finger, Y/n. You’re lying to me!”

Your eyes grew wide at the change in him and you shook your head violently. “No, no, of course not! We haven’t the money. That's why I don't have a ring.”

Arthur’s hands snaked upward toward your wrists, restraining you with a punishing grasp as he pushed you further into the alley and up against the cool brick. “You’re lying,” he repeated, hot breath fanning over your face as he moved impossibly close. “You don’t love him,” he said as though he were trying to imprint that fact into your mind.

Tears began to well in your eyes from the shock and the pain of his hold. With quivering lip you looked into his eyes as you whispered a frightened plea. “You’re hurting me, Arthur. Please stop.”

The spark was quickly extinguished and Arthur relinquished his hold, backing away and running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he shook himself. “Fook! Fook! God, I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your shawl around yourself tightly as you mumbled, “Goodbye, Arthur,” and scurried away, unsure what to make of the situation.

Arthur stood in the alley for what seemed hours, pacing and plotting, his mind never leaving you. None of what he’d heard could be right. You would come back to him, he was sure of it.

———————————-

The heat from the kitchen was dissipating slowly to mix with the chill of the late evening air. James had gone to take out the rubbish bins and you were waiting for his return as you finished the cleaning. It was another long day and you felt yourself slipping into a soporific state even as you stood cleaning. 

Willing yourself to continue, a sudden gust from the open back door blew a solid sheet of rain into your face, causing you to blink and sputter as you fumbled for the door, rain pouring across the threshold. As you grappled with the edge of the door, an unsettling crash came from the alleyway and you turned in a tight circle, looking for James. Instead of your boyfriend, you caught sight of Arthur Shelby, or at least you thought it was him, from his profile. He stood at the corner of your house, washing his hands in the run off from the eaves, scrubbing them clean of what you weren’t entirely sure.

GIF credit @peakykestrel

“Arthur?” you called out in a shaky voice.

His hands froze at the sound of your soft voice, one covering the blood which stained the other. He couldn’t let you see what he’d done, though he knew you’d find out soon enough. Dipping his head low to slough the water off his flat cap, he gazed back up at you with wild eyes like an animal caught with prey still in its jaws. 

“Y/n, what’re ya doin’ out here? Thought you’d be in bed by now,” he managed, voice rumbling low like the thunder rolling through the city. 

“I heard a noise,” you explained, eyes coming to rest on a broken piece of wood at the bottom of the stairs. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but it appeared to have the carvings of James’ cane and you felt your heart lurch. Arthur’s head tilted at a precarious angle to follow your line of sight, eyes flicking back up to yours and causing a shudder to course through your whole body. Your hands twisted nervously in your apron, feeling very small under his intense scrutiny.

Hiding his hands behind his back, Arthur slowly paced toward you in a stalking motion that made your stomach churn with dread. You shivered as he motioned for you to enter the house. “S too cold for ya out here, love,” he whispered in a voice that sounded far too placid. Then you felt his large hand at the small of your back, shooting electric sparks straight to your feet. Only then did your limbs begin to move in halted jerks with Arthur steering you into the sitting room. 

You allowed him to guide you, feeling the grip he held on your elbow as he sat you in a chair by the fireplace. He took care to light it for you before taking a seat opposite you. Then he removed his coat and hat as if to show he had further business to discuss.

Despite the warmth that surrounded you, you shook violently as you asked, “Arthur, what have you done?”

Arthur leaned forward as he removed a flask from his pocket. Taking a long swig of whisky from the silver container to fortify himself, he exhaled sharply, “What should’ve been done a long time ago. I took care of him.”

“No, no…” you begged, catching sight of his bruised knuckles and bloodied shirt fully for the first time. 

He rushed to your side to cradle you as your head fell into your hands, rocking yourself as you wondered how you would go on now. 

“Let the fear go, love. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you now,” Arthur whispered into your hair as he cradled your limp body. Running a hand over your hair with his damp hands, he felt a surge of pride course through his veins and it was intoxicating. He had you in his arms as it should always have been. 

Feeling a stir of desire, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing you with feverish passion. You recoiled from him in horror, pushing against the side of his face with the heel of your hand. Panting and heaving, you tried to shove him away, but he was much too strong. Finally he pulled away to look at you, rigid and frightened in his embrace.

“Please don’t look at me that way, love,” he begged, capturing your face between his large palms. “I did what I did for you…for us. He was hurtin’ ya. I couldn’t let that go on,” Arthur mused, staring into the fire.

“Arthur, I told you, I loved him. We were happy…,” you said through tears, now streaming down your face. You pulled his hands from you and studied the blood that still remained, trembling at the sight of it around his wrists and under his fingernails. You bit your lip harshly and closed your eyes to steady yourself from being sick at the thoughts running through your mind of how he’d killed James. 

Arthur turned to look at you, “You’re confused. He weren’t good for ya, but I am,” he said earnestly. “I can give you a good life. Treat you like a queen, I will if you’ll be my wife. Say yes,” he asked, eyes shining like two bright stars. “To everything I can give ya.”

You took in a shaky breath as you fell back into his arms broken and defeated, how long could you deny him, you wondered? He was a delusional madman and you had to find a way out. 

———————————————-

Two months later…

“Oh my God, I can’t thank you enough,” you said through tears, hugging your friend.

“Promise me you’ll go live a good life in America where that prick can never find you,” Celia said with more than a hint of malice. She’d been working tirelessly to secure passage for you by railway and steamliner as well as a new life in New York and now that everything was in order, you would be on your way the following morning, never to set foot in Small Heath ever again. 

You packed a bag and went to bed with visions of your new life dancing before your eyes. Life had never felt so peaceful, knowing you were taking charge of your terrible circumstances. 

You woke before dawn, pushing yourself out from a cold bed you’d barely slept in and hurried downstairs to collect your case and papers. However, the documents you needed were nowhere to be found. An icy chill clamped over you as you searched, knowing something wasn’t right. Had you left them with Celia in your haste? With only an hour to make it to the train station, you rushed out of the house to see her. However, you didn’t get far.

Arthur stood out front with John and Finn, papers in hand. “Going somewhere?” he asked in a conversational tone that belied his devilish intentions.

“Arthur…” you gulped. “What are you doing?”

“Could ask the same of you, love?” he said. “What’s all this, eh? Having a holiday without me?” he asked without a hint of amusement, shaking the papers he held in his hands. 

“I…I was going to tell you about that,” you lied.

“Were you now?” he asked thoughtfully, head turning from the papers to dig into his pocket for something which you quickly realized was a lighter. 

You ran toward him screaming “No!” with outstretched hand, as he set the papers ablaze before your very eyes, all hopes of a new life burning before you.

GIF credit @cinematv

“I had my eye on you since we was kids, Y/n. I said she will be mine and nothing will keep us apart,” Arthur said, crushing the papers in his gloved hand. “Nothing,” he reiterated as the ashes fell at his feet. John laughed as the embers of his cigar fell to the ground, joining the tattered remnants of your dignity. 

“We’ll have heaven here on Earth, my darling. Just need you to say yes,” Arthur proclaimed, reaching for your trembling hand. He pulled a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger as you shook with fear. "Say yes to heaven," he whispered once more before you fainted.

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

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[barrykeoghanstan]

Birmingham's Sunshine

Arthur Shelby x Fem!OC

Warnings: Age gap (10 years)

A/N: I have no clue what spirit possessed me to write this, but here we are. I am by no means a writer, and this is the first fic I have ever written, but I hope you enjoy none the less. 💙

Amelia pushed the doors the Garrison open with a bright smile on her face. Waltzing to the bar, she stopped seeing her best friend. "Well, hello Arthur," she said with a small giggle, placing a kiss on his cheek.

If you want to talk about unlikely pairings, Amelia and Arthur were at the top of that list. Where Arthur was dark and brooding, Amelia was bright and cheery. Where he was rough, she was soft. Where he was filled with anger and violence, Amelia was patient with the heart of a saint. His hands had long since been drenched in blood, and hers were a clean as fresh filled snow. They were complete opposites. He was a monster, at least he thought so. And her? She was Birmingham's sunshine. There was never a day you would find Amelia down in the dumps or without her bright, vivacious smile that brightened up everyone's mood. Even the cold and hardened Thomas Shebly couldn't help but crack a smile at the young girl.

Squished between Arthur and John on the bench in the snuff, Amelia sipped on her gin, her face souring each time she took a sip. Hearing John laugh once more at her, she shoved him light. "Now listen here, John Micheal Shelby. You keep that up, and I have Esme make you sleep in the dog house." That was one thing to know about Amelia while she was sweet and sunny she was not someone you wanted to cross. That is part of what drew Arthur to the younger woman in the first place, but mostly, it was the way she managed to calm his raging mind. "Well, boys, I best be getting home. I've got to be up early for work tomorrow." Tugging her coat over her dress, Amelia situated her hat on her head before reaching for the doorknob. " 'Melia wait,' Arthur's gruff voice called out, turing to him with her head tilted to the side in question she watched him stand up and walk towards her, with his arm held out. "Oh Arthur, you don't need to walk me home it isn't far," she tried to insit but Amelia knew by the look in her friend's eyes it was no use trying to argue. So, with a smile, she linked her arm with his and led them not if the Garrison ignornoging John's teasing jabs being voiced at their backs.

Back at her flat, Amelia fiddled with the key before finally getting the door open. Stepping into the warmth, she motioned for Arthur to follow. Once inside, she hung up her hat and coat before helping Arthur do the same. These small domestic acts were not uncommon between the pair. In fact, if you simply saw them on the street, you'd be certain they were a couple with how sweet on one another they were.

Moving to the living room, Amelia settled herself on the couch with her head in Arthur's lap after he too sat. Per their, now, usual routine, Arthur played with her hair til the younger girl was almost asleep. Then, with great care, he carried her to bed. Nuzzling into the sheet, Amelia smiled, her eyes still closed. "Stay. Please?" She whispered, her voice almost imperceptible. But Arthur heard it. He would always hear her. Climbing into the empty side off the bed, Arthur felt all of his pain and worries slip away as Amelia wrapped her arms around him. She was his solace, his respite after every bad thing. Allowing himself to place a light kiss in her forehead, Arthur settled into the bed before they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Amelia woke to the rhythmic beating of Arthur's heart in her ear and his arms protectively wrapped around her. Slowly sitting up as not disturbing him, she watched his face, which, for the time being, looked not only younger but peaceful. Brining her hand up, Amelia let her soft fingers gently trace the feature of the man 10 years her senior. With slight hesitation, Amelia leaned down and pressed a kiss to Arthur's cheek, which prompted him to open his eyes. "Morning you," Amelia teased, pushing a stray hair out of his face. God, he looked so pretty. Eyes dipping down to his plush, pink lips, she bit her bottom one as she met his eyes again. Upon doing so, Amelia found Arthhur leaning. Then their lips finally met in a long-awaited kiss. Arthur was the first to pull away after a long moment, pressing his forehead to hers. Calloused hands cupping her face, he smiled lightly. Somethjng that obly ever really hapoe ed around her. "I think I might love you," Amelia admitted, breaking the silence, her eyes darting down nervous to see Arthur's reaction. It was only when his finger tilted her chin up and kissed her once more that she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. " I love you too, sunshine," Arthur's responded, feeling his heart soaring.

And that was the start of something truly special.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Withered || Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: You have given all the love you have, but love needs to be cared for to bloom

Word Count: 3390

Warnings: Angst, mentions of murder, blood, drug usage and alcoholism

Author’s note: My submission for K’s lovely celebration “Tales From The Flower Garden” with the prompt “You thought I was a savable man” Again CONGRATULATIONS MY SWEET MUNCHKIN K FOR YOUR MILESTONE YOU DESERVE THEM ALL and I put up so much of me for this to makeup for my failure for your last celebration that I even put together some pics to make it more in theme. Love ya lots darling!

The loose petals heaped around your feet upon the wooden floors. Pink, peach, pure white and cream. You had been toiling over that floral arrangement for hours, but your tenseness and your wandering thoughts had robbed you of your concentration, jittering hands having reduced the soft buds to denuded and wilted stems. Behind you, the antique grandfather clock’s bells chimed, taunting you with the unforgiving pass of time, which seemed to move twice as fast that night. The black carved hands marked midnight on the golden clock face. Arthur had promised to be home in time for dinner.

The table remained set in the dining room, the fine silverware and dishware all laid out, perfectly polished, awaiting for those who would not sit at the table that night. The candles had melted halfway through before you had the heart to blow them out. A crystal vase held a marvellous bouquet of your best roses, red and white in full bloom. A red petal had come loose and laid over the white tablecloth like a blotch of spilled blood. 

The housekeeper came to you at least five times, inquiring how much longer the cook should wait to warm up the plates and prepare the rest of the dishes. You kept dragging on what you already knew until a quarter past ten, when you instructed her to bring you a cup of tea and some biscuits only, and to have the staff dine on everything that had been prepared already. At least the food would not go to waste.

You continued to fiddle unceasingly with the weakened stems, hoping that arranging them in a certain way would hide the ruin of the flowers, perfection on the outside to hide the ruin behind. But it was a hopeless cause, and no amount of skill or attention could undo the disaster. 

In a rapture of frustration you smacked the vase violently, as if that piece of green tinted porcelain had become the source of all your discontent. The ornament crashed down obstreperously, sending sharp shards and greenery in every direction of your sitting room. The fury morphed into panic, and you quickly swept the evidence of your riotous act behind the drapes; much like you swept your woes under the carpet to be hidden until you forcibly stumbled upon them again, having blissfully forgotten their existence when not faced with them. 

That fleeting but fierce outburst helped decompress your anger like steam escaping from a teapot, leaving you empty and strangely deflated. All energies left you abruptly, and your legs threatened to buckle under the weight of your body and your worries. You slumped backwards, half sitting, half crashing into a nearby armchair. Your tired eyes went over the spilled water staining the floorboards white, the astray pieces of vase and leaves you had not picked up, and the dent left in the wood by the crashing porcelain. Slowly, gradually like a withering carnation, your body began to slouch, until your elbows rested on your knees and your chin buried in your chest, face hidden in your trembling hands, muffling a saddening mixture of sobs and heavy sighs. 

The clock in the corner chimed again. 

You did not move until a familiar sound snapped you out of your trance. Wheels on the gravel of the driveway, and the steady rumbling of a car engine. The mess of your hair, the wrinkles in your dress, your sweaty neck and the painful stiffness of your joints were compelling proof that you had fallen asleep in the chair. The sky outside had faded from a pitch black to a dark and stormy grey, uncommon but not impossible in those early days of spring. Birds chirped outside, the chickens and roosters cackled in their pens behind the house, and the dogs howled and jumped about to welcome your husband home. A house full of life, while you felt just like a hollow carcass. 

The front door creaked open. Normally you would be quick on your feet to greet Arthur home with a kiss on the cheek, while he would circle your waist with his slender arm and pepper your face with kisses, tickling you with his brush moustache and making you giggle like a schoolgirl in love for the first time. You’d take his coat and cap while he asked about your day, and you would fill him in with small talk about the farm, your painting and drawing and the latest tales from your two young children, William and Helene, with a third one due to join the family in the summer. Arthur would compliment the beauty and the aroma of the new floral arrangements you had crafted to decorate the various rooms of your home, even though he did not understand one bit what he talked about, but he knew how much the simple praises filled your heart. And all would be well.

But things had changed and so had you.

Arthur tried to enter the house silently, as if by making no noise he would just easily slip by and you would miraculously forget yet another broken promise. You peered around the corner in time to see him tiptoeing around the creaking boards, shoes in hand and drenched in what you presumed to be blood from head to toe. Perhaps you should have been worried, and in another time you would have been anyway, but you knew better; that blood belonged to others. Others he had slain with his own hand in the night he promised to be home early for dinner. 

Soon his eyes found you, standing in the foyer all dishevelled, eyes dulled by exhaustion and the corners of your lips downturned by disappointment. Your silent presence surprised him enough for him to drop his shoes, back straightening tight like a low rank soldier facing his war general. He wrung his cap in his hands nervously, his moustache quivering with the anxious flitter of his lips as he mumbled a hundred different apologies so fast and so quietly that it sounded like a low humming, words tumbling over each other as he tried to find the right thing to say to excuse the inexcusable. At last he fell silent, head dropped low, ears braced and heart clenched in anticipation of the impending arrival of your wrath upon him, raining like hellfire, a penance he knew he deserved for his transgression.

But the words never came.

The seconds passed and silence reigned the scene, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the whistle of the breeze entering through the ajar door. After an unbearable pause, Arthur looked up just enough to examine your expression, almost expecting you to be branding a fire poker, arm raised to strike. But the scene before him turned out to be much worse, and he wished he had not looked.

You looked so broken. So defeated. Your shoulders slumped, eyes reddened, aged decades in hours by worry and anger and sadness. Arthur hated your unhappiness more than anything in this world, yet he continues to be the source of all your grievances, then become racked by guilt, apologise and make half hearted promises of improvement that inevitably end broken, only to repeat the cycle over and over again.

Your husband stepped tentatively, forward, a hand raised as if to touch you, but halfway deciding not to push his luck and letting it fall to his side “Poppy” He murmurs, using his favourite pet name for you in honour of your favourite flower. You can hear the edge of regret in his voice, matched by the sorrowful expression upon his face. But you cannot swallow your rightful feelings to coddle his own.

“Save it” You waved your hand in exasperation, moving past him and out the door, not allowing him a chance to stop you.

Your wandering steps took you to your flower garden. In the first months of your marriage, when the future looked rose tinted and joyful and every day felt like a new honeymoon, Arthur had the best gardeners and flower experts come to your newly purchased estate to plant it for you and teach you how to care best for each individual breed, all of that just to celebrate your first month of union. Roses, poppies, carnations, lilies of the valley and forget-me-nots composed the rows of fragrant flower beds, their perfume mixing in the air with the scent of damp earth and grass. 

In the warmer months the garden filled with life, bees and butterflies fluttering about the vibrant buds, drinking the sweet nectar while your children admired them with wide eyed wonder. You loved to have picnics there, all the family lounging in an old blanket with a basket prepared by your loving hands with everyone’s favourite snacks. Arthur loved to lay his head in your lap during your pregnancies, his cheek pressed against the rounded bump and whispering hushed promises to the baby against your skin, never letting you in on the details of those secret conversations. The world looked so vibrant and lively, all filled with brightness and hopefulness and happiness; sheer, untrammelled happiness. 

But now grey skies hovered above you, the insects had hidden and the joy had passed. The world felt veiled in grey, dull and lifeless; even your cherished flowers having lost their shine. You walked through the rows of greenery, pulling your cardigan closer to your frame. A gelid drizzle began to fall, but you felt such cold from within that the droplets on your skin went unnoticed. The breeze grew stronger, loosened flower petals drifting across the ground and being swept away, some weakened flower stems snapping and falling at your feet. If left to the elements and not nurtured properly, the flowers withered and died. 

Just like love.

On one of the bushes, a flower stood out to you. A perfect pearly white rose in full bloom, rows upon rows of soft petals spread open and exuding a sweet aroma. The beads of water gathering on the folds gave it a special shimmer, as if dotted by little crystals. You reached to pluck it, but a thorn dug into your thumb, drawing a gasp from your lips. When you raised your hand to inspect the damage, a blood drop fell on the flower, the pureness of the white ruined by the crimson liquid. The contrast between your blood and the flower gave you a strange feeling, like an unexplainable tightening in your heart.

A pair of slender hands brushed down your shoulders, sliding over them a thick coat and pulling it close to your frame. It smelled of Arthur’s cologne, and you instinctively snuggled on it, feeling the softness of the fabric against your cheek.

“I hope this is not the blood soaked one you came home in” Your murmured, not turning to face him, instead focused on the bloodied rose.

“No…I grabbed one from the closet in the entrance” You heard the hesitance in his voice “You should go back inside… it’s getting cold and the baby…maybe get to bed with some tea and…” Even without seeing, you knew he was rubbing the back of his head, his face tense in concentration as he tried to read your temper and avoid screwing it up further. But things had already hit rock bottom on your side, so he could only go lower by bringing a shovel.

“I’m fine here” You snapped, arms crossed over your chest, your hands tucked under your armpits to warm your stiffened fingers “I need to be alone”

“Love, think of the baby” Arthur tried to gently guide you away from the flowers, but that gentle and caring touch of his riled you up like a bull before the red cloth. You turned around with such violence he stumbled backwards, appalled by the outburst of his usually sweet and amenable wife.

“I said I want to be alone. I need to be alone to think. Think of why I keep giving you second chances, over and over and over again, when I know you will stomp on them!” Your voice rose several octaves, your outraged words booming throughout the gardens and above the rustle of the wind “One night. Just one night I needed you to stay true to your word. But of course I am met with only disappointment. I always come in second place. We are always an afterthought”

His eyebrows knitted together in a furrow as he stepped forward, his gloved hands cupping your cheeks. You didn’t push away, but your eyes never met his “That is not true. It is not. You are my life, the kids and you are all I have, but Tommy…”

Tommy. Of course. What else could be the reason? Tommy never liked you much, thinking you did nothing more than lead Arthur astray from the family, keeping him tamed and calm when he needed him volatile and angry. But again, Tommy rarely liked anyone other than himself, so you never took the aversion to heart.

“You placed your brother on a pedestal so high that he stands even above the stars, and in your adoration for him you have become blind to the world around you. You would dig out the very Earth and catch rain with your hands for him, but would you do the same for me? Would you break a promise to Tommy to honour one made to me?” You did not need a reply, but you needed your husband to question himself on that. And the silence that followed gave you the answer you needed. 

“Do you know what day it was yesterday?” The tone in your voice had changed. The words held not only anger, but hurt. The bitter kind of hurt of a person with no tears left to cry, but with their heart still tightened in a painful coil. A tired pain which has been drawn out too long, which no longer burns but a sting remains everlasting, always nagging in the back and unable to be soothed.

“Friday?” He asked sheepishly

“It was our fifth wedding anniversary. Five years in which you’ve carried that golden band on your finger. In which I’ve given you my heart, my body, all have and I am. I have given you two children and another on the way. And you couldn’t give me one day of your life to celebrate with me”

A gelid silence lingered between you two. You saw the gears slowly turning in Arthur’s brain, his face drooping and eyes widening as the realisation slowly began to sink in. You noticed him silently counting with his fingers, going back and forth on months and days; but truth be told, you doubted he could even recall the year of the wedding had you not reminded him of the pass of time.

“Poppy” He attempted again, hands in your elbows to pull you close to him “I am so sorry, my love. I thought it was today and-”

“Oh please Arthur! After five years you should know me better than to think I would swallow such a lie” An humourless laugh escaped your lips “But again, what more can I expect from you?”

You saw how your jabs hurt him, and deep down you wanted him to be hurt. You wanted him to feel even a fraction of the grief you carried perpetually upon your soul. To understand what it felt when the person who held your heart dropped it and stomped on it with their heel until only dust remained.

You turned away from him, noticing how the breeze had become howling wind, and the gentle drizzle had thickened into a spring rain, the water droplets slipping past the wide collar of the coat and running down the curve of your spine. You crossed your arms over your chest, hands resting upon your shoulders. One might think it a simple gesture to keep yourself warm, but you actually just tried to keep yourself whole.

“You used to buy me flowers” Your eyes closed, evocating in your mind sweet memories of better times to help you steady your heart “You would come home with these massive bouquets and I could barely see your face behind it. They were so colourful and vibrant, and I would take so much care in arranging them in that Japanese vase we got for our wedding. And every time a petal fell off I would press it to dry and then store it. I have the first roses you gave me in a crystal pyx in my vanity. I had the flowers from my bridal bouquet dry pressed and framed. All little mementos of the happiest days of my life” The longing was palpable in your voice, your head tilted to lay on your shoulder as you saw those memories playing behind your eyelids like a movie

But soon those flashbacks faded, and the sweetness turned to bitter bile in your throat “I thought things would be alright. I thought that together, things would improve. You always said you wanted to be a better man, and I hoped I could turn you into one. For some months I thought I did” Your throat tightened and you swallowed the lump down to continue “But every time things seemed better, they ended worse than before. It is always one step forward and three back with you” You dabbed at your hot tears furiously, but they kept mixing on your skin with the freezing rain.

“When I married you, I never thought I would find myself dragging you to the bathtub to wash you clean of your own vomit and spilled gin. That I would have to learn every trick in the book to get blood off your shirts so the maids wouldn’t see them. That I could not let my own children run free around their home until I have made sure you didn’t left your guns or your fucking cocaine laying around”

You heard a thud behind you. Arthur had dropped to his knees, clinging to your skirts like a repentant sinner faced with the Doomsday.

“I can change. I will. This is the last time I fail you” Long fingers tugged on your clothes, like a scared child seeking comfort in his mother. Every fibre of your being urged you to pull him to his feet and embrace him, cradle him into you and promise him that everything would be well in the end. But you couldn’t, because not even you knew if things would ever be well again. Or if you wanted them to.

He noticed the little effect his words had on you, and redoubled his efforts “I-I…I will throw away the whiskey, and the snow and the opium and everything. I will never kill again, never carry a gun with me” His grip on you tightened, arms around your hips with his forehead pressed to your lower back. You felt his sobs against your body, the way he snuggled into you for warmth. In another time, the action would have moved you. But your heart had frozen, immune to hollow words and feeble promises.

“No, Arthur” The impassiveness of your tone caught him off guard, his grip faltering on you “I have given you all I had. I have bled myself dry to keep you afloat. But I can’t anymore. I cannot go on like this for the rest of my days” Your eyes fluttered open, teardrops beading in your lashes like crystals. “I used to think you could be saved”

“You thought I was a savable man” He fell back on the ground, his hold loosening until his arms fell limp at his sides. Your body felt cold without his touch, but even colder with it.

“Yes” You breathed out quietly

“But you don’t think I am no more”

Your eyes fixed again on the bloodied rose. The crimson had dried on the petal, leaving a stain that the pouring failed to wash off. The weight of the water forced the petals down, until they began to split and reveal the very centre of the flower, leaving it exposed to the elements. Some petals drifted in the wind, one by one, disappearing into the storm, until only the red one remained. But that one, too, eventually fell off at your feet, and then the rose was no more.

“No”

[mysadcorner]

Hi! I was wondering if we could have a headcannon of the Shelby brothers reaction to seeing the girl they’ve been crushing on, coming into the garrison all glammed up for something? Like maybe their reactions of admiring them or being jealous if they’re on a date etc?

Thank you 🤍

Shelby Brothers Having A Crush Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about the characters wanted for requests -

Masterlist Navigation

Tommy Shelby

• Tommy would be very upfront about how he thinks you look, with a hushed voice so that not many of the large group of people around you both hears what he says. He has no reason to keep his mouth shut, why should he.

• No one would be allowed to be near you when you’re all dressed up for him, especially when he knows he has final say. He wants you all to himself so he doesn’t see why other people should have your attention when he needs it all to himself.

• For a first date, Tommy would always try to consider what you like before making any plans. Whether that be something relaxed and basic or something fancy, but either way he’ll always make it worth your time.

• Tommy wouldn’t let someone staring at you ruin the day you have, but he will definitely think about it for a while afterwards. He doesn’t need to make himself known as everyone already knows what he’s capable of, but his instincts scream for him to keep you to himself and not let you get stolen away from someone less capable than him.

• Tommy is very mindful as to how he takes you home due to how dangerous the people he knows are. He wouldn’t be too flashy about it and would instead be rather subtle to ensure tou have a nice little ending to your date together.

Arthur Shelby

• After a first glance, Arthur would stare at you quite a bit before even realising he’s doing it. He’s seen a lot of attractive people in his life that he’s drawn to - but nothing like how you look to him in this very moment.

• Arthur wouldn’t be directly possessive of you as he isn’t a very public person in that regard, but the atmosphere surrounding him definitely changes. Everyone is already aware of the chemistry you share together so there’s no point in anyone getting involved between the two of you.

• Arthur can be a bit brash at times and may not have the best experience with dates, although the same can’t be said about his experience with women. So, he may seem a little bit awkward at first, but you can bet he’s trying his best especially after he’s asked his family for advice.

• Arthur would not be subtle if he saw that someone had taken a special interest to you while out on a date with him. He’d immediately let the person know that you’re his by potentially making a little scene only they can see, or terrifying them in a way you can’t. He doesn’t want to ruin things for you but he also needs to put people in their place.

• Arthur would seem to question you a lot while on your way home to make sure the date went well and you enjoyed it. He’s used to handling those he’s attracted to but not actually getting to know them on an intimate level, so this it’s just to reassure himself that he’s done well.

John Shelby

• John would give no care to those around him from the second he sees you, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to refrain the look on his face as a reaction. Although he may not have you to himself yet, he practically feels like he does.

• John wouldn’t really mind what others thought of him as he’s watching you while he’s in his little bubble of distraction. You may need to snap him out of it, and once you do he makes sure everyone knows that you’re for his eyes only.

• John would be quite proud of himself while on a date, and will be flaunting not only his money and connections but also you while it’s going on. He’s amazed that he’s able to take someone he admires so much out on an actual date, so he isn’t going to treat it very lightly.

• John would make sure that whoever was looking at you gets out in their place, whether they meant to be disrespectful or not. He never tolerated someone doing such a thing in that manner to his partner so it’s not going to end well one John gets a hold of them.

• While taking you home he would feel like everything in his life was put together and he’d be unable to think of any of his problems. Hopefully you’d feel this way too and let him know about it, but if not he may feel a little bit disappointed as to what he may have needed to do to give you a better time.

Finn Shelby

• Finn would be very sweet from the second he sees you. It’s not often that there’s a moment of peace, so when there is he takes as much time as he can to admire you fully.

• He would be the most obnoxious out of all the brothers, but that doesn’t mean he’s taken any less seriously than the others. After all, he is still a Shelby. They’re all well aware that you belong to each other, and Finn just prefers to be more persistent when it comes to this fact.

• Finn may not be the smartest, so he’s a lot more reckless as to where you both go together and who may be around. He’s more outspoken than Tommy and no a lot more caring than John or Arthur, but you’ll always be taken care of while you’re with him and under the Shelby name.

• Finn isn’t the smartest of all the Shelby boys and doesn’t know when subtlety is key, so if he caught someone staring at you while on a date then he’s probably going to cause a scene. He’d definitely end up in trouble later, but in the moment he hardly thinks of the consequences - he just wants to assert himself in the moment.

• If Finn was to take you home after a date then he would be sure of himself doing a good job, and during this time you could definitely see it. There would be a huge boost to his confidence which may cause him to act recklessly, so you’ll have to make sure he’s careful despite him being the one who’s “politely” taking you home.

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 2

Adultery with Arthur Shelby

"Just One Bite"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You & Arthur take comfort in each other's arms after Linda aims her wrath at both of you.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, injury/blood (only a little), jealousy, reference to potential verbal/mental abuse from Linda, swearing, pet names, fingering, creampie, vaginal sex, light dirty talk, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst

From the moment you had been moved into the position of Arthur's secretary, his wife Linda had marked you as a whore out to steal, or at the very least corrupt, her husband. 

It was like she thought you had been sent personally by the devil to lure him away from Linda and negate her religious appeals to Arthur. You were the snake in the garden of Eden and yet somehow also the apple. Tempting Arthur to take a bite of you. You were an apple Linda was sure her husband could never resist. He would never be able to resist you and all that came with you after just one bite of your forbidden fruit.

None of that had been your intention, of course, at least originally. When you saw Arthur, you saw a man who needed help. You saw a man struggling to hold onto himself as he was pulled in all directions by opposing riptides. You just wanted to be the buoy to help keep him afloat or the lighthouse shining in the distance, showing him where the shoreline was. You wanted to help him and the rest of the Shelby's, and so that became your job.

It was Linda and her cruel behavior towards both you and Arthur that had driven the two of you together. That first night anything happened, it had all been because of her. She had stormed into his office at the Garrison in a rage over something, and once she was done with Arthur, she was still hungry for more blood. So she set her sights on you. Verbally abusing you and destroying your desk in the process. You knew she was probably high on cocaine. That was the only way you could explain the venom that she unleashed that night towards both of you. 

After she had finally left, silent tears started to slide down your cheeks. You refused to let her see you cry. Her words had cut far deeper than the damage done to your belongings and the business papers she had thrown around. In silence, you got down onto the ground and started cleaning up the mess. Uncrumpling and trying to piece together torn bits of paper. As you worked, you hadn't realized that Arthur was watching you or that you had kneeled down on shards of glass from a broken picture frame until he said something. 

"You're bleeding." 

His voice made you jump, and suddenly, you felt the small cuts on your knees. Stinging with the sudden movement. Quickly rocking to your feet to relieve the pressure on your newly discovered injuries. Blood smeared on the floor, several papers, and yourself. 

"I'm so sorry, Arthur, uh, Mr. Shelby. I'll get this cleaned up right away, and I'll retype any papers that I soiled or were damaged before I leave tonight." 

Just as quickly as you finished talking, Arthur responded. Your eyes snapped back up from the papers you had been trying to gather up. A softness in his blue eyes. You weren't sure whether it was sadness or caring. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

"No. No, you won't. We will clean this up together,  but only after you let me fix you up. Don't want one of the only nice, tolerable people in this city out sick because she let some silly cuts get all infected." 

You gave him a soft smile for his kindness. Still planning to dismiss his gestures, but he didn't give you the chance. 

"Come 'ere. I got a kit in my desk. Besides, it was my wife who made this mess. It's my job to clean it up, and that includes you." 

After quickly pulling the tin box from a drawer and grabbing a bottle of alcohol he patted the top of his desk. Signaling for you to sit there as he plopped down in his regular chair. He took a long swig from the bottle of whiskey and offered it to you. You followed suit. Needing something to calm your nerves, both from Linda's explosion and from the fact that you were currently sat on your boss's desk and you knew his head and his hands would soon be rather close to your most intimate places. You couldn't help but notice the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You crossed your legs at the ankles and squeezed your thighs together as you pulled your skirt up just over your knees. Your stockings were clearly ruined. They had become more or less shredded from the glass and tinged red from your blood. A sad sigh fell from your lips as you surveyed the damage. Arthur surreptitiously casting sidelong glances at you as he unpacked the first aid box. 

"These were my favorites too." 

"I'll make sure you get a little extra pay this week. To replace them. It's only fair. It's my fault, after all." 

You shrugged at his statement. If Arthur had his way, he would blame everything in the entire world on himself. That was one of the things you desperately wanted him to see differently. 

"Linda seems to think it's my fault."

"Yeah, well Linda's fucking mental. Not sure anything could ever be your fault. I'm not sure you've ever even made a spelling error, let alone any of the shit she's on about." 

You giggled at that. Your smile making his freckled cheeks blush just a tad.

"Well, if you think I've never made a spelling error, you may need your eyes checked, Arthur." 

You both shared a little smile. The flutter in your stomach picked up again as you looked into his eyes. A flush started to show more clearly on his cheeks before he quickly looked down. Starting to survey the scrapes on your knees. Clearly unsure of where to put his hands. 

"Ummm… I think I actually need to take these off. To make sure there isn't any glass in the cuts." 

He waited for you to respond, glancing up at you under his thick eyelashes. Part of him was waiting for you to shove him away for even suggesting he take off your stockings, but another part of him was ready to beg like a dog for a chance to touch you. 

Perhaps there was some truth to some of what Linda had accused him of. He did harbor a bit of a crush on you, but he was sure you were completely unattainable to him even if he wasn't a married man. Someone so sweet, intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous would never fall for him. You were so far out of his league that you were in a completely different ballpark, and yet you didn't act like it. You didn't snub your nose at him or his family the way Linda always had. 

"Oh, um, okay. I trust you, Arthur." 

Your voice was a little shaky as you said it. Only because you couldn't read his emotions. Did he want you to do it? Or did he want to do it himself? 

In all honesty, you kind of wanted him to do it. You were already getting blamed for having an affair with him, when in reality, you just had a stupid school girl crush on your boss. This was probably going to be the closest you ever got to living out one of your fantasies. So, without another word, you kicked off your shoes and waited to see what would happen next. 

Arthur slowly placed one hand on your shin, gauging your response before slowly moving it up to the outside of your thigh to find the top of the stocking and your garter. Making sure you didn't protest before his other hand followed, this time on the inside of your thigh. Your legs spreading just enough to allow his hand access. Slowly pulling your garter off and setting it to the side before moving back to slowly start peeling your silk stocking down your leg.

His breath hitching when his fingertips brushed the supple skin of your inner thighs. You were so warm, and your skin was so incredibly soft. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning. He repeated his actions on your other leg and had to fight the urge to touch you further. To spread you open for him just a little bit more. Just enough so he could bury his head between your thighs. He was sure you would taste better than the sweetest sugar.

You were suddenly very aware of the heat growing at your core as you watched his gentle movements. He touched you like you were a porcelain doll who would shatter if he was too rough. His calloused fingertips ghosted over your inner thigh. So very close to where you secretly wanted him to touch you. Where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to touch you too. 

Once both your stockings had been discarded, Arthur started studying your wounds a little closer. Looking for any shards of glass that may have gotten stuck in your skin.. Bringing your feet up initially to rest on his chest, just below his shoulder, before realizing how much the image of you like that made his head spin. Settling to let your feet rest on his thighs Not that that worked to diffuse any of the sexual tension in the air that was growing thicker with each passing second. 

You could feel the strong muscles of his legs shifting under the soles of your feet as he moved to pour a decent amount of whiskey onto a clean rag. Part of you wanted to be exactly the kind of woman Linda already thought you were. How short a distance you would have to move your foot to start caressing Arthur's crotch. Wondering what he would feel like as you rubbed him. Wondering how big his cock was. The sounds he would make if you did. There was little point in denying what felt so obvious between you at that moment. 

You wanted him, and he wanted you just the same. You made a silent promise that you would treat him far better than Linda did. Your mind was thinking of all the things Linda probably refused to do that you happily would. There was no way she wasn't a prude in bed. You wondered just how many pleasures you could grant him that she wouldn't. How many pleasures he was used to being denied.

It was Arthur's voice that pulled you from your wicked thoughts.

"Right. This is gonna sting like hell." 

That was all the warning you got before he pressed the whiskey soaked rag onto the cuts. He was right. It hurt. You grabbed at your skirt, holding the fabric tightly in your fingers as you tried to breathe through the pain. Balling the fabric up in your fists and without realizing it, causing it to ride up, baring more of your thighs, and even granting Arthur a peek at the gusset of your panties. 

They weren't particularly fancy. A simple silk in a soft shade of mauve. He knew he was an absolute goner as soon as he saw them and how they were clinging to the plump lips of your cunt. He could practically feel you clench and relax your inner muscles as he moved the rag off of your now clean scrapes. He barely managed to keep his damaged mind focused long enough to place a gauze bandage on each knee. 

His resolve finally cracked completely when he had the idea to place a soft kiss over each bandage. A sweet gesture on its own, but when paired with his now dilated eyes, one that you knew meant he had more sinful desires on his mind. Your hand reflexively went to brush through his hair as his lips touched the first bandage. Gripping the longer strands when he moved to the second. 

His face began nuzzling the inside of your knee. His gruff whimpers against your skin, giving you a last chance to tell him to stop. To push him away. It only made you pull on his hair harder and spread your legs for him farther. A needy whine pulled from his throat before he bit the flesh of your inner thigh and began sucking a dark bruise there. His large hands had already moved to grab at your ass under your skirt to pull you closer to the edge of his desk.

Now that your body was well within his reach, he lifted his head from your lap and brought his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely. Your teeth nipping at his lips and your tongues chasing one another without shame. The glowing embers of need blossoming into a full-fledged flame. 

"Arthur, are you sure about this. After everything that happened earlier. Are you sure you want this?" 

You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. Opening your eyes to stare into his icy blue ones. 

"I'm sure, love. Even more now. It seems you and I are already cursed for something we weren't doing. Might as well get some fun out of it, and I'd gladly damn myself for you." 

He moved to kiss you again, but you pulled back again. Wanting to make sure this wasn't just a fleeting desire and that you would be canned by the next morning. A secretary was much easier to get rid of than a wife. 

"What about Linda?"

The mention of her name made his nostrils flair. Clearly still upset from her tantrum earlier. He brought his hands up to cup your face so you were looking him straight in the eye.

"Fuck Linda. You're the one I want. For a long time now. I don't want to deny it anymore. Just never thought you would want a sad old bastard like me."

You sighed and nodded. Giving him your permission to let his lips meet yours again. The soft tickle of his mustache making you smile as you kissed. Your arms slowly moving to loop around his neck and your legs moving to loop around his hips. Pulling his body into yours.

"Wanted you just as much. You may not see it, but you are incredible. Now, fuck me please, Arthur"

Arthur was all long limbs and taut muscles. A sharp contrast to your soft curves. Little did you know that was one of his favorite things about you. That you had so many curves and soft spots for him to touch, kiss, and explore. His hands were already moving up and down your sides, groping your ass and then your breasts as you kissed. 

You set to work on the first few buttons of his shirt. Reaching inside to feel his chest. Pulling your lips away from his to place a soft kiss on the cross tattoo over his heart. 

Arthur quickly followed suit. Leaving wet kisses down your neck before starting to pull at your blouse. His large, rough hands threatened to tear the fabric right off your body. It was like he couldn't possibly wait any longer to touch your bare skin.

"Careful Arthur. I still have to have clothes to walk home in, and I've already lost a good pair of stockings today." 

Your teasing tone told him you weren't upset at his overzealousness. He chuckled in your ear and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. You could feel his hips starting to rut into you. His excitement now becoming apparent in more ways than one. 

"Sorry, lovey. I've just wanted to touch you like this for so long. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pull you into me lap every time you come in here. You're re always so fuckin' sweet and nice to me even when I feel like shit."

He pulled back and started unbuttoning your top with a much more careful touch. Leaning in to kiss your lips with each button he undid. Gazing down as your bra came into view. It clearly matched the panties you were wearing. It was the same mauve silk but with a lace edging along the tops of the cups. 

Arthur groaned as he drug the back of his fingers along the lace. Your breath catching in your chest and making your breasts bounce slightly. With Arthur distracted by the sight of your lingerie, you took over the task of undressing. Shrugging your open blouse back off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. Letting him bring both of his hands up to play with your tits while you moved back to finish unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. 

His fingers moved to pinch at your nipples through the soft fabric as you began undoing his pants. A soft moan falling from your lips at his touches. You slipped your hand into his pants and palmed his hardening cock through his boxers. Starting to slowly stroke his length.

"Fuck, love. You keep that up I'm gonna cum in your hand."

You smiled against his lips. Your wicked side was beginning to show more as your encounter went on. You reached behind your back with one hand and unhooked your bra. Only pulling your hand from Arthur's pants to finish removing your bra so you could toss it to the side into the growing pile of discarded clothing. 

"Well, we don't want that. Better hurry up and finish undressing me then."

You hopped off the desk and brought Arthur's hands to the hook and zipper of your skirt. Bringing your lips to his throat and starting to suck and bite at his neck. Half tempted to leave your mark there for Linda to see. So she could see what she had driven the two of you to do. 

You restrained yourself, though, at least for now. Knowing that both you and Arthur would want this to be more than a one-time thing. There would be a time down the road for you to flaunt your dalliances.

Your skirt soon hit the floor, and you pushed his pants down to match. Leaving you in just your pretty mauve panties and him in his simple white boxers. Your hands exploring each other's bare skin as you kissed. His hands slipping into the back of your panties to grope your ass. Slipping them down enough for them to fall to the floor on their own. Kicking your feet to rid yourself of them completely.

He lifted you back up onto the desk now that you were totally naked. Bringing one hand around between your legs as you settled. Letting his long fingers finally touch your cunt, feeling how wet you had gotten for him already. Nuzzling into your neck, his mustache tickling you as he whispered in your ear.

"Holy fuck. You're so wet darling. You are an eager little thing ain't ya? All of this really for me?"

You mewled at his questions. Knowing that he already knew the answers. Letting your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to urge him on. Sighing in relief when you felt two of his fingers sink into your heat. The little bit of stretch making your back arch and your nails grip into his biceps. 

Arthur pulled away to watch his fingers thrust in and out of you. Growling at the sight of your slick coating his fingers. It was something he thought he would only ever fantasize about. Occasionally stroking your clit with his thumb and making your hips jerk forward. 

A smile on his face as he watched your eyes start to roll back in your head. Pulling his fingers away when he felt you starting to clench around them. Denying you your orgasm and making you pout. Your bottom lip pushed out and looking oh so biteable.

"Arthur, please. I was so close."

He chuckled as he licked your sweet nectar from his fingers. Just one taste, and he knew he was already addicted to you. Frankly he couldn't wait until he would get a chance to eat you out, but right now he needed to fuck you.

"Uh uh love, the only time you are gonna cum tonight is on my cock." 

With that, he pushed his boxers down. Finally freeing himself and giving you your first real glimpse of his cock. Standing proud and hard, just for you. His dark pink tip wet with precum. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight of him. Your legs immediately reaching to wrap around his hips and pull him to you. 

He happily let you. Loving how much you wanted him. How impatient you were to have him inside you. You were almost more impatient than he was. Your hips were bucking as soon as you felt his long length stroke through your wet folds. 

"Don't worry, love. I'm gonna give you exactly what you want. Just want to hear you ask for it. All sweet like you are when you ask me for stuff during work. Like the good little angel you are." 

You purred at his statement. You could be his little angel if that's what he wanted, but you also wanted Arthur to see your devilish side, too. So, with one hand, you braced yourself on his desk and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Giving him your best doe eyes and letting your hips wantonly grind against his shaft. Hitching your legs up even higher to spread yourself open more for him.

"Please Arthur, I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so bad. I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you for so long. Please fuck me. Make me yours Arthur." 

He growled and quickly positioned his fat tip against your weeping hole. Cursing at how wet you were. He had never felt Linda anywhere near as turned on as you were, and even though he knew that what you were about to do was wrong, it felt oh so right. So, without even thinking, he pulled off his wedding band and threw it somewhere in the distance. Not caring about having to find it later.

He grabbed a hold of your hips and kissed you fiercely. His short nails leaving imprints in your skin. He slowly started pushing into you. Your moans quieted by his kisses as he stretched you open. Eventually, bottoming out and leaving you feeling impossibly full. 

Arthur waited a moment, trying to calm his breathing and letting you adjust to him. He could hardly control himself when he looked down between you and saw his cock nestled in your cunt. Your pussy lips hugging him tightly. He couldn't help but start shallowly thrusting in and out of you. His hair falling in front of his face and his nostrils flaring. His animalistic side clawing beneath the surface. 

"Go on, Arthur. Fuck me hard. I know you want to." 

Now that he had your permission, he did exactly that. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His thrust was so hard your hips lifted off the desk. He waited a few seconds to see if you would object to his hard thrusts, and when all you did was grip onto his neck tighter, he began pounding into you faster. The desk was starting to rock underneath you and scrape across the floor. His lamp falling and the ledger books dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.

Neither of you cared, though. Your moans and grunts growing louder with each passing moment. Arthur biting into your shoulder and neck as he fucked you with abandon. Surely leaving marks that you would have to deal with tomorrow. The force of his cock knocking your breath from you.

Arthur moved one hand behind your back to hang onto you as he brought the other to your clit. Starting to stroke his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves and immediately making you clench around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular. 

"I'm gonna cum inside this perfect little cunt. You want that, eh? Just felt you squeeze me tighter darlin.  I think you're gonna cum too. Cum on my cock and I'll fill you up so good. That's it, love. Cum on your boss's cock." 

His words pushed you over the edge. Crying out Arthur's name as you spasmed around him. Your legs were shaking, and your body was threatening to collapse onto the desk below you. Arthur pulled you into his chest, keeping you upright as he kept frantically fucking you. Chasing his own high. Grunting and growling in your ear. 

After another few thrusts, you felt his hips stutter and the warmth of his release started to fill you. The most beautiful moan fell from the normally intimidating gangster. It was full of vulnerability and made you hang onto him even tighter as he filled you up. His orgasm seemed never-ending, but frankly, both of you were quite content to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.

You held each other as you came down from your orgasms. Kissing and wiping the sweat from each other's brows. Caressing each other and letting your heart rates fall. Both of you groaning when Arthur finally pulled out of you. Taking a moment to watch his cum start to leak out of you. 

With a cheeky smirk on his face, he scooped it back up and rubbed it over your swollen sex making you gasp before bringing what was left on his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his seed from his fingers. Your tongue dancing and licking up every drop. His smile growing and a soft 'good girl' quietly fell from his lips.

The two of you slowly helped each other redress. Arthur, taking an extra moment to admire the sight of you in your beautiful silk underwear before helping you with your skirt and blouse. You couldn't help but smile as you redid his bowtie for him. His fingers drawing little shapes on your lower back as you did. Brushing his hair back into place and smoothing down his mustache before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Neither of you quite ready to leave the imaginary world you created together. 

He let go of you and went out to your desk. Watching him gather your jacket and handbag as you slipped your shoes back on. Coming back and placing your handbag on his desk while he worked to straighten out your coat.

"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you home, eh? I'm not letting you walk home alone at this time of night with those gorgeous legs bare and on display."

You slipped your garters into your handbag. Having no use for them now that your stockings were in Arthur's trash bin. Letting him slip your coat on before taking his own long dark coat that was far too large for you and slipping it over your shoulders. You buried your nose in the collar. Inhaling the scent of Arthur's cologne.

You looked out at the mess still sitting on the floor around your desk. Sighing at the work that still needed to be done.

"What about that mess, Arthur? I still need to clean all of that up."

He took your hand in his and started leading you to the door. Not really caring if anyone saw him holding your hand. After tonight he really couldn't give a fuck who saw you together. Come the light of day he knew he would probably feel guilty and tomorrow he would probably find himself crawling around the floor of his office to find his wedding ring. It wouldn't stop him from coming back to you again and again, and he knew both of you knew it. Tonight though he just wanted to indulge in you without the guilt. 

"Fuck it. I'll make Finn and Isiah do it in the morning. You've got more important work now. Besides I'm thinking you'll be a bit tired tomorrow by the time you come in."

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

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[call-sign-shark]

Little Lamb part. 1|| Arthur Shelby x Reader x OFC

Summary: They came into your life when you were desperate, convinced no one would ever want you and yet you found yourself not one, but two lovers madly infatuated with you: The infamous Arthur Shelby and his young wife.(Yandere! Arthur Shelby x Reader x Yandere!OFC)

TW: (for the entire short series) Toxic dynamic, polyamory relationship, murders, torture, graphic depiction of violence, heavy allusion to smut, obsessive behavior, possessive!lovers, angst and horror. Inspired by the song The Things I Do For Love by Bludnymph.

Words: 1.4k

Notes:

✞ Since I'm stuck with Tangled Desires' new chapter I thought about taking a break to write a very short three-part story (no more than 1.5k per part). All is already written and it will be posted during the week. It 100% can be read as a stand alone.

✞ Heaven in Reader in the ongoing Arthur x You series Heaven in Your Eyes.

NEXT PART

Love had never been kind to you. The statement might sounded tough but so was the truth. You were either too shy to make the first move, or when you did you undeniably ended up with your heart crushed because you were too nice and, your relatives said, too… understanding. Too soft for this world and painfully too weak for Small Heath.  When you left your hometown to start your new barmaid life at the Garrison pub, desperately looking for a job and a new start in life, all your friends had laughed at you: how could a meek little lamb like you could willingly throw herself in this hell, where hungry and violent wolves lurked in every corner, ready to tear her in millions pieces? Still, you paid no heed to their warning and left everything and everyone behind you, fueled by the firm will to prove them wrong.

Surprisingly enough, working at the Garrison had done some good to you despite spending your first days shaking like a leaf each time a loud man talked to you. This, but also hiding behind Harry when the Shelby brothers flooded the place with their piercing blue eyes and their sharp caps. Unfortunately, you had to learn the entirety of the job and it involved plucking up the courage to pour them their drink. They merely noticed you, far too concerned by whatever shady business they were talking about until scrapped but tender fingers brushed against your skin. Slightly jumping, you raised your gaze towards their owner and was quickly met with steel blue iris overhung by dark lashes. "Leave the bottle, love." The oldest of the brotherhood said, gently taking the whiskey from your hand before offering you a surprisingly charming smile.

"You're welcome, Mr. Shelby." Did you manage to reply without any stuttering? No, you didn't but you were already surprised by your ability to actually produce a sound when faced with certainly the most ruthless of these gangsters. You turned your heels, Arthur's eyes burning your back as you walked to another table.

As weeks passed, you grew up more confident and started to navigate more easily in this cursed city. In Birmingham, working as a barmaid was the same as patching up souls: exhausted working-class men, vile gangsters, drunkards, or sad men all found a bit of happiness in the bottom of their glass and in the waitress’ warm smile. Most of your life your softness has been deemed a weakness but here, in the crowded Garrison, your softness wasn’t one. It was a gift that mended the hearts of your clients, and the more you soothed these troubled souls, the more the weight of your own broken heart was alleviated.

You never exchanged more than a few words with Arthur Shelby, but the fact he always asked you to serve him his drinks and thanked you with a pet name was enough for you to feel like a schoolgirl noticed by one of the popular boys around. Yeah, it sounded stupid even in your head but you couldn't help.

Tonight had started the same as ever: you put the whiskey glass on the table and proceeded to walk away when, suddenly, his hand kept you from doing so. With his long fingers wrapped around your wrist, blood still stuck under his nails, the gangster's baritone voice purred “A sweet little lamb you are, ay.” He punctuated his sentence with a seductive wink that made your heart beat faster than usual. “And a fucking pretty one too... How's the night going?"

"Terrible, Harry's in such a bad mood! I haven't found the time to sit and rest for five minutes -- My feet hurt so much I feel like I've walked miles." You said, you joked, hating the idea of whining.

"Why don't ya sit now, little Lamb?" Arthur raised a brow, his thin lips hid behind the whiskey glass.

"Because I'll get scolded, silly!"

Arthur didn't think twice -- he never did actually. His grip strengthened a little bit more around your wrist and, without the slightest warning, he pulled you until you tripped on your own feet and fell right on him. As nimble and quick as a cat, the lanky gangster caught you in his arms and made you comfortably sit on his lap.

"Ar-Arthur?!" You hiccuped, eyes wide open and cheeks flushing red.

"Hell, no one's gonna scold ya as long as ya stay in me arms, ay!"

Quickly swept away, your surprise turned into the most irresistible chuckle he had heard for a while. "Only five minutes alright?"

"Nah." Arthur snapped his fingers to get Harry's attention and raised his hoarse voice, "She's taking her night off to drink with me, mate." He shot you a quick glance and, with his smile growing wider, put on a show "By order of the Peaky Blinders!"

No matter how violent people said he was, you couldn’t help but find yourself enthralled by his dangerous aura and carnivorous smile. Moreover, it was needless to say that he never exhibited any of these brutal behaviors with you -- Quite the contrary, you found a loyal guardian in him, who would walk you home each night to ensure you were safe.

"Y/N, you better forget about him right now... You're really going to be in trouble" Harry stated after he noticed that you were dolling you up before the gangster came, rearranging your hair and putting on some awfully expensive lipstick you had brought earlier.

"Is my taste in men that bad for you to worry?" Your light reply didn't make him laugh, quite the contrary.

"I'm not joking! I don't want you to get fucking killed!"

"Killed? Someone's very pessimistic. Everything will be fine, Arthur would never hurt me okay?" You reassured him with the softest voice you could before your attention shifted to the gangster, who had just arrived.

Arthur noticed the lipstick and did seem to like it considering how his steel-blue eyes lingered far longer on your mouth when you talked to him, wondering how beautiful your red lips would look tightly wrapped around his cock but he didn't let his intrusive thoughts show, "Hey little lamb. I've got someth' to ask you."

"Anything?" You early replied, your smile beaming and your eyes shining.

"Apart from my usual whiskey, I'd like something else. There's a bottle of red wine hidden under the bar, I'd like ya to pour one glass of it, I'll be right back."

A glass of wine? Your heart missed a beat at the realization that he had remembered the day you told him you liked red wine. Butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach, convinced that maybe he was finally going to ask you out, you did as he said and, when done, carefully placed the two glasses on the wooden counter. When his booming voice echoed in the pub again, you raised your eyes and smiled, ready to call him but your voice got stuck in your throat.

No.

As you stood there, frozen in shock, your heart seemed to fracture into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight before you. The man you had secretly longed for, the one who had occupied your every thought and fueled your every feverish dream, was accompanied by a young and stunning lass with her arm tightly wrapped around his. Each caress exchanged between Arthur and her, each whispered word, felt like a betrayal. In that moment suspended in time, tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Of course, you already took notice of the wedding ring on his finger, its shining gold shining brighter than the other silver ones he was always wearing but you had tricked yourself into thinking it was only a jewel. After all, he wouldn't have flirted with you if he was married right? That was what you kept telling yourself, and even not entirely convinced you hoped it would eventually turn out to be true if you believed in it strong enough. He was married, here was what was true. Not only he was married, but the woman by his side was so resplendent with her angel face, her long snow-white hair, and her revealing red dress that your heart felt cold.

"So, you are the little lamb, aren't you?" Her mermaid-like voice emphasized the pet name Arthur had given you, snatching you from your numbness. All the confidence you had gained these past months vanished with the sole power of the eerie frost of her eyes, silently telling you that she knew everything. Impatiently waiting for your reply, her dagger-shaped and perfectly polished nails tapped against the wood, their menacing clicking song making another awful realization blossom in your mind.

Harry didn't think about Arthur when he said you would end up killed. He thought about her.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @justrainandcoffee @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @rysko @red-riding-wood

[runnning-outof-time]

omg K congrats on the 3.5k!! that's amazing babes and im so happy for you!! I hope i didn't miss this but if I did please ignore this ask 💕 could you do "are you happy right now?" 8 in 5 (in case i messed up the sentence) with arthur?? maybe a cute fluffy one? or a slight angst? it could go either way so do whatever you want is right for the prompt! I didn't see him with this prompt on the list but if it was lemme know and i can change my prompt. congrats again!! ✨️🎉

Thanks so much for sending this in, Jay @anotherblinder ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I’m happy that I’m able to end this celebration off with some Arthur after not writing him for a bit. I decided to go with fluffy for this one. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Can’t Think of a Happier Moment

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy

Word Count: 728

Summary: Arthur finally manages to clearly communicate his emotions in the moment where it’s needed most.

Arthur was able to see it in her eyes the second she came to a stop in front of him. She’d asked him to be home when she got back and he made sure of it, not caring if it meant leaving the Garrison before Tommy even got there. His brother would understand. His wife came first.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, wanting to get right into what she wanted to tell him.

“What is what?” she responded with her own question.

“Why’d ya call me home? Got something to tell me?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Bold of you to assume such a thing, Arthur Shelby,” she couldn’t help but giggle, “maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in an instant. That surely couldn’t have been the only reason she pulled him away from the Garrison, from business, right? “I love ya, darlin’, and I love spending time with you, but couldn’t that have waited until after I finished what I was doin’ at the Garrison?” he came out and asked, not yet sure if doing so would equate to stepping on a bear trap.

And (Y/N) could have made it into one. But she didn’t. She was too excited at the moment and actually did have some news to share with him. “I was over at Pol’s when I called…” she began. Arthur nodded, showing her that he was listening and that she could continue. “She’d just told me something, and I could have shared it on the phone, but I decided that telling you in person would be better.”

“And what is that?” he asked after a few moments had passed and she hadn’t shared anything else.

“You know that Polly’s got a gift, right?” she started off with another question.

“She’s got many,” he agreed.

“Well she told me something…” At this point, (Y/N) herself wasn’t sure why she was continuing to beat around the bush on this. He was clearly invested in the conversation. Hell, he’d skipped out on his brother because she told him that she had something to tell him. Hanging onto the secret just built up the excitement inside of her even more. She hoped he’d feel the same.

“What’d she tell you, love?”

“She told me that…that you and I…” she paused, taking a deep breath as her smile grew, “we’re gonna have a baby, Arthur.”

At first Arthur just blinked. It took a few moments for the information to settle in; for it to actually click in his mind. And when it did, a tidal wave of words came tumbling out of his mouth. “She said that…she, she thought that, no, she knew that you were…that we’re going to…holy shit, you’re, you’re pregnant, (Y/N).”

“I am,” she nodded, speaking in a soft voice.

“Holy fucking shit,” he breathed, talking to himself more than anything. There was a whole flurry of different emotions coursing through him at the moment. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, taking a pause to collect himself before looking up again. His eyes immediately found hers, and he couldn’t help but let a smile form on his face. He tipped his head slightly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Pregnant,” he breathed again.

“Yes,” (Y/N) response came in a similar tone, tears welling up in her eyes. “Are you happy right now?” she just had to ask him, wanting to know if he was feeling the same excitement that she was.

“I can’t think of a happier moment in my life, love,” he wasted no time in telling her, his smile growing. (Y/N) noticed that his eyes were practically twinkling. He held her gaze for a moment before his eyes dropped to her stomach. No bump was present, but he knew that his child was there. “Can I?” he asked her then, his hands inching closer to her frame.

“Yes, Arthur,” she couldn’t help but softly laugh at his hesitance. Her heart swelled with love as he let out a soft chuckle and placed his hands against her stomach, gently caressing it.

“Our baby…” he trailed off, looking back up at her again.

“Our baby,” she affirmed, lifting one of her hands to rest against his neck before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

*tags in reblogs so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[eviegray]

❛ dating arthur shelby would include ❜

。to anyone else, arthur was nothing more than the devil's reincarnation... to you, arthur was only gentle, caring and loving.

。often are the times when you two don't need words to communicate. all you need is to look at each other's faces and smile, knowing well what both of you mean.

。arthur loves when you hold him after a long day. as soon as he comes home, he takes off his hat and jacket and almost runs towards you. he particularly likes to lay on your legs, by the fireplace, while you caress his face or hair.

。he understands and appreciates every single thing you do for him when he struggles. but he helps you too... arthur will hold you close to him while you cry and will listen to whatever haunts your mind.

。often surprises you with flowers because they are beautiful and it reminds him of you.

。reminds you daily how beautiful and special you are.

。"You are the finest, loveliest and most beautiful person I have ever known... and even that is an understatement."

。he is admittedly terrified of the idea of losing you... he's never really loved anyone as much as he loves you.

。"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together... keep me in your heart. I'll stay there forever."

[fandom-puff]

Period Sex with Arthur Shelby

Warnings: period sex, so mentions of blood, unprotected sex

Gif creds to owner

Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Hello beautiful,” he murmured. Smiling softly, you leaned back with a sigh, your hands meeting his.

Slowly, you swayed to the radio, leaning back into your husband’s strong chest. With his head resting on your shoulder you shut your eyes, relaxing into his embrace.

"You doing okay, Sweetheart?" Arthur whispered into your ear.

You hummed. "just a little sore. It's, uh... it's that time,"

Arthur nodded, planting a gentle kiss to your cheek, his hands dipping lower, cradling your lower belly, pressing and rubbing just the way you liked, until you let out a soft groan of relief, your head tipping back onto his shoulder. "That's... that's good, Arthur," you whispered, soft little moans trickling from your lips.

"Yeah?" he muttered gruffly, one hand remaining at your lower belly, massaging it with a firm, well practiced hand, the other trailing over the shape of your hip, his lips pressing a little path of kisses up your neck, his break tickling your ear.

"Arthur..."

"Want you, YN, love," he murmured, and you could feel that familiar, telling hardness pressed into your back.

"Arthur..." you murmured, turning around in his arms. "It'll make too much of a mess," but as soon as you said those words, you could taste the irony- being married to a Peaky Blinder meant that you dealt with a lot more blood on a monthly basis than most women already did.

"C'mon, we'll worry about that later... just like we did last time, eh?" you smiled up at him, reaching to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Alright then," you said, smiling as he led you to the bedroom.

***

"Arthur!" you gasped, tossing your head back as you rode him, your tender breasts bouncing into his palms.

"That's it, love, make yourself feel good..." Arthur prompted you, one hand lowering to press into your lower tummy. "So tight around me, darlin', so wet... we should do it like this more... you're already wet and ready for me like this, aren't you?" His breath was coming in short bursts, his moustache rustling with each shaky exhale.

"'s good, Arthur," you moaned, and it was. The cramping in your belly was no longer as prominent, reduced to a dull throbbing which was quickly overshadowed by the deeper, stronger throbbing of your clit and cunt. Arthur grunted as you gripped onto his cock, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, hips stuttering to meet your rhythm. You were nearing your own end too, and you were grateful for his strong grip on your waist.

"Good girl, YN, cum on my cock, now, come on," he groaned, and when you cried out, he grunted. with a few more thrusts he was spurting into you, growling your name.

Whimpering, you looked down at your husband, a dazed smile playing on your lips.

"Feel good?" Arthur asked you, eyes crinkling as he grinned.

"Very good," you confirmed. "We need to clean up," you mumbled.

"Tell you what, love," arthur said, helping you up, grabbing one of the folded towels you had next to the bed. "I'll go and run a nice bath for you, yeah? And I'll sort all the washing out too,"

As he went off to the bathroom, you smiled softly, cleaning yourself up with the towel before sitting down on one while you waited, your heart swelling from the affection your husband regularly showered you with.