#headers arthur shelby

[hiloedits]

— the peaky blinders headers

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© hiloedits on twitter.

[little-diable]

Tangled Faith - Tommy Shelby 2/4

Thank you for the love on the first part of this, I can't wait to hear what y'all think about this chapter. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader, a female pastor, takes over the Catholic Church in Tommy's part of the city, so, it doesn't take long for her and Tommy to cross paths. Even though she tries to stay out of his business, Tommy can't help but notice that something seems off about the woman.

Warnings: 18+, lots of tension and almost smut, mentions weapons, blood, arson, threats, religious connotations

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female pastor reader (2.3k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

Part One Part Three

The Garrison was packed, loud chatter filled the place, a sound so uneasy, (y/n)’s body begged her to turn around and leave. But her curiosity spurred her on, forcing the woman further into the pub, eyes searching for a familiar pair of blue ones. Her hands tightened their grip on her black coat, covering the dark suit she wore, finding comfort in wearing the black fabric, one with the shadows she chased. 

It didn’t take her long to find the man who was already looking at her with an intense gaze, cigarette placed between his pale lips, hand wrapped around a glass. Her steps carried her closer towards Tommy Shelby, not breaking eye contact, not even as she noticed another man standing next to him, face graced by a prominent moustache. Only as she came to a halt in front of Tommy did she allow her eyes to meet the curious ones of the other man, nodding at him. 

“I followed your invite, like you asked me to. Did you make up your mind?” Her words were met with a laugh bubbling out of the other man, eyes flickering between the two. 

“Aye, would you look at that, you must be the new pastor. I’m Arthur Shelby.” (Y/n)’s eyes flickered down to the hand he reached out for her to shake, a test perhaps, a trick to toy with the woman, but she didn’t move, hands pressed against the fabric of her coat. It took Arthur a moment to lower his hand, irritated eyes finding their way back to Tommy’s piercing ones. 

“Get her something to drink, Arthur, there are things we need to discuss.” Without speaking another word, (y/n) took the glass Arthur reached out for her to take before she followed Tommy through the pub, pushing past men and women that studied the three of them with curious eyes, nosy bystanders that studied the woman that wore a black suit. She didn’t fit, an outsider that stood out amongst the crowd of drinking and smoking people, a threat to their families and their business, at least that’s what her demeanour led them to believe. 

They entered another room, an empty room that finally allowed her tense shoulders to relax, and her ears to stop ringing. She watched the two men sit down, making themselves comfortable in chairs they’ve sat in numerous times before, pointing towards an empty one. No word dared to pass her lips, waiting for them to speak up, hand tightening its grip on her glass filled with brown liquor. 

“You’re an intelligent woman, you know that there’s no way out of us working together. There’s no use in running from a deal, it will happen either way.” Tommy’s voice broke the silence, forcing a scoff from (y/n). She took a sip of the liquor, eyes closing in on Tommy who studied her as if she was an experiment of his, a body that had been granted life on this very earth. Tommy looked at her as if he was the creator of all things surrounding them, a higher power only those fortunate enough could even dare to think of crossing paths with.  “So, here’s how this will go: we will keep on using the church’s cellar as a depot or so to speak. And you will be protected by us.” 

“Protection is what you offer me? For hiding your drugs? Protection from what or who, Mister Shelby?” Her voice had a teasing undertone to it, an undertone that could easily be mistaken by those that didn’t pick up on the anger flaring up in her pupils, set on burning whoever dared to touch her to the ground. 

“Whoever may threaten you and the church.” (Y/n) drowned the last gulp of her drink, setting the glass down on the table with a humourless laugh rumbling through her. She rose to her feet, hands buried in the pockets of her heavy coat. 

“You’re the only one threatening me and my church. There will be no deal between us, certainly not for hiding drugs. I’d advise you to find another hideout, don’t think of approaching me with a pathetic offer like that ever again. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” She disappeared from the room before either Tommy or Arthur could speak up, staring at the place where she had been standing just moments ago. (Y/n) pushed her way out of the Garrison, deeply exhaling as she was met with the chilly evening air, finding comfort in the darkness that was lingering in the streets. With her eyes set ahead, (y/n) made her way back to the church, replaying the past moments in her head over and over again, unable to stop thinking of the intense gaze Tommy had shared with her. 

Her moment of distraction was used by those that approached her from behind, covering her mouth with a gloved hand to pull her into a sidestreet. She tossed in the man’s grasp, wide eyes focusing on the features of a man she hadn’t seen before. (Y/n) was pushed against the nearest wall, skin scraping along the cold surface. 

“Luca Changretta sends his greetings. Take this as a warning, pastor, if you are seen with the Shelbys again, he will kill you.” The man’s voice had a strange twang to it, a minor detail she couldn’t help but focus on, even as she felt a cold blade being pressed against her throat. The point of the knife moved along her throat, toying with the cross necklace dangling from her neck, mouth still covered by the man’s hand. An angry scream threatened to claw through (y/n), though before she could even try to rip herself free again, a fist was buried in her stomach, forcing her to topple over. 

Her palm met the cold ground, trying to catch herself before she’d collapse. Tears blurred her vision, angry tears that dripped down her warm cheeks. Before she could use her now free hands, wanting to reach for the knife strapped to her calf, the men disappeared in the shadows. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close in a desperate try to catch her breath, leaning against the wall for some support.

“It seems like you need our protection after all.” Her eyes shot open to find a pair of familiar blue ones, the mere sight of Tommy Shelby forced a groan out of her, allowing her eyes to close once again. Tommy stepped closer, carefully helping her back to her feet, not daring to let go. (Y/n) watched his gun disappear back in its holster before Tommy slung his arm around her waist, wordlessly guiding her through the streets. 

“Keys?” Tommy murmured the words as they came to a halt in front of the church, taking the key (y/n) pulled from her coat with a groan, watching him unlock the side door of the church, helping her inside. An almost eerie silence engulfed the two as he helped her into her bedroom, placing her down on the worn out mattress she had to sleep on. For a few moments all Tommy did was stare at her, as if he was giving her the chance to speak another spiteful phrase, to push him away from her, but she kept quiet, wordlessly begging him to help her out. 

Her coat was carefully pulled off her body, hands moving closer to her blouse, though stopped halfway by her cold ones. Their eyes met as (y/n)’s hands found his, shaking her head, not daring to cross that line just yet. Tommy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes flickering down to her bleeding palm. 

“We need to clean your wound, where’s the bathroom?” With a sigh leaving her, (y/n) pointed towards her bathroom, torn between her annoyance directed at Tommy, and the anger she felt towards those that had dared to threaten her. Tommy returned moments later with a wet cloth, carefully taking her hand in his to clean her palm. His eyes searched hers, trying to focus on the emotions swimming in her pupils, unable to tell what she was feeling. “The Italians are our problem, and since you’ve been seen with me, they’re now also your problem.” 

The cloth found its way to her bedside table, no longer focused on as Tommy towered over her. He reached for her chin, forcing (y/n) to keep on looking at him as he kept talking, “You need to get over your pride, and give in. I can’t protect you otherwise.” 

“I don’t need your protection. I was distracted, which they’ve seemed to pick up on, I won’t make the same mistake twice.” She rose to her feet, not liking the way Tommy stared at her, clearly using his position to talk down on her, making her feel the power he held over her. One of his hands found her waist, keeping her close as the other pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She felt his breath teasing her lips, making her heart roar in her chest, unable to bite down the wave of longing he shot through her, a longing she had buried years ago, not daring to give into the carnal need. 

Something seemed to guide them closer together, eyes focusing on their lips, begging them to close the distance between them. The tension between the two of them was palpable, growing with every passing second, a tension that turned into a crackling wildfire as Tommy closed the distance between them. It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, hand finding his neck to keep him close, lips moving in sync with his. 

The kiss wasn’t rushed and yet it was fueled by a passion neither Tommy nor (y/n) had ever felt before. A groan ripped through him as she bit down on his lip, allowing his tongue to meet hers, tasting the cigarettes and alcohol he had fostered for the past hour. Their bodies seemed to complement each other perfectly, guided back towards her bed, forcing her back down with Tommy towering over her. They didn’t break the kiss once, not as his hands were finally allowed to work on her blouse, not as he ground his clothed bulge against her core. 

A moan clawed through (y/n) as Tommy kissed his way down her throat, sucking marks into her skin as if he was claiming her for all demons and angels to see, one with the creator of all life, proving his power once again. But before he could free her of her clothes, needing to feel her naked skin pressed against his, (y/n) seemed to snap out of her trance, pushing him away from her. 

Both were heavily breathing, staring at one another with wide eyes. She rose from her bed, fingers working on buttoning her blouse once again, chasing the distance between them. Slowly he rose to his feet, eyes following her every step, not understanding what had just happened to force her away from him. 

“There will be no deal, and I certainly won’t be another woman for you to own. Leave my church, and let me promise you something, Tommy Shelby, if you ever dare to step foot into my church again, I will kill you.” 

……

Hours ago (y/n) had forced Tommy to leave the church, cold stone eyes watching the man’s every move as if she was God, knowing every thought that ran through the man’s mind. It was an easy game, a game both Tommy and (y/n) seem to lose, guided by their emotions rather than their rational thoughts. 

Now, a day after parting from him, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder why she had given in, something had forced her body closer towards his, needing to feel his hands on her like holy water freeing a sinner of their wrongdoing. The poison only an exorcist could free one of, but there was no exorcist around, no man of God that could free her from the spell Tommy Shelby had casted upon her. 

“Help!” The sound of somebody calling for her ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, storming out of her office and into the hallway. Her eyes were forced to focus on a burning confessionary, watching the flames dance higher. (Y/n)’s body was drawn closer to the flames, helping the nuns that tried to tame the fire with water. Due to their distraction the women didn’t pick up on the spreading fire on the other end of the hallway, taking over the first benches. 

“Pastor!” (Y/n)’s head snapped towards a young nun, trapped near the altar, begging for somebody to come and rescue her. The pastor’s body seemed to trust her instincts, not waiting for her thoughts to guide her but rather for her feet to carry her towards the crying nun. 

“Take my hand, sister.” (Y/n) helped the nun over the benches, guiding her towards the other nuns, shouting commands for them to leave the church. The sound of roaring sirens echoed through the night. Sounds (y/n) couldn’t focus on as she was drowning in waves of anger, pushing through her body faster than any fire could spread. There was no doubt in her mind, she knew who did this, knew who would be petty like this – because of an ignored deal, men that were just as greedy as those she had been running from. 

(Y/n)’s hands were carbon black, face covered just as much, but she didn’t allow herself to rest, pushing past the crying nuns, the men that tried to tame the flames, and a curious crowd of bystanders. Her feet forced her to walk faster, making her way towards the pub she had visited yesterday evening. Anger filled every pore of her body, the only emotion she was currently running on, trying to blink away the tears welling up in her eyes.

She forced herself to enter the Garrison, wide eyes moving around the pub, ignoring those that stared at her with wild gazes. Her eyes zoned in on the blue eyed devil, storming towards him as his frown deepened, rising to her feet before she could reach him. 

“How dare you set my church ablaze. Are you that petty? Are you that bitter? Just because I didn’t sign your deal? You can be glad nobody died, otherwise I’d shoot you right here, right now.” 

[izabesworld]

Roma attitudes and how to present us in your writing.

The top of this piece primarily discusses negative stereotypes in writings, so you can understand why these aren’t really true, and the bottom has a header which you can read to see how to present us as we are.

FOR MORE READ THIS.

Do I think this piece will be groundbreaking? Absolutely not. Do I hope this piece will prevent AT LEAST one writer from making a common mistake in their writing? Absolutely.

I want to start of with Roma Family Loyalty. This is something people are eager to show in their writing, presenting family units as something that is powerful and strong, which is great. However, like all families, we have limits.

A popular mistake in Peaky Blinder fanfiction is the misuse of this loyalty. It’s not shown in celebration, we don’t see Roma characters celebrating character achievements to the small things like better results in school and moving up in a business.

However, what we do see is family loyalty in a way that portrays us as violent. We read about a family member killing a character, and don’t see the backlash the character should receive. We don’t see the distrust you now feel for that person, we don’t see the problems that now arise. Violence committed by Roma is such a common topic in fan-fiction, when in fact, it is very rare.

Of course, the Peaky Blinders series is filled with blood, guns and knives but it’s also filled with Aunt Pol’s love of God, it’s filled with Arthur’s character change, it has Ada’s moving on from old family ways for a better life for herself and her children. All things that would’ve been celebrated.

A Roma family would’ve been ecstatic to see the change in Arthur. It would’ve been celebrated and praised, not pushed off and ignored. It’s not something that happened over night, it required dedication and support from those closest.

You often see scenes in “Shelby Sister” series where the Shelby Sister in question is afraid of Aunt Pol and Tommy because she gets beat. When this too, isn’t a reality.

Of course, it does still happen, and I don’t want to dismiss ANYONE who is a victim of this time of punishment, however, in Roma it’s extremely uncommon. (We are more creative).

When in the series has Aunt Pol been portrayed as someone who beats Finn as punishment? When Finn smoked that cigarette, he received a tap to the head and a word later. He was not beaten, so why is it done in fiction?

Roma families protect their family, they do not beat them. (Still not trying to dismiss anyone who was a child beat by their Roma family, this is just an in general <3). DESPITE the times they lived in where this was considered normal.

We are not genetically violent. We do not grow and and think “guns are okay”. In our world, they are not. At the time, everybody owned a gun, however, we knew the consequences of using one. It wasn’t a first option, nor was it really an option at all.

Selling Family Members?

We do not sell family members. This one is a BIG one for me.

We do not get in debt with another Roma family and offer daughters to solve that debt. We speak to them… Like everyone else? I’m not sure where selling Roma children has come from.

We do not offer out children to random Roma families. We do not meet a wealthy Roma man and think, “yes, I will sell my daughter to him”.

Yes, we do have a history of arranged marriages, and they do still happen today, within reason. We do not marry happy people with happy relationships. We do not marry people who do not want a partner. We do not marry people because they’re “too crazy”.

We marry people with what’s best for them. We ask people what is that family like? Where do they travel? Is there any significant history in that family I should be aware of? Families spend MONTHS even YEARS getting to know the other family beforehand, asking around and getting to know them.

Esme and John was a one off thing, and was a marriage I don’t believe was presented right. The Shelby’s and Lee’s were already familiar with each other, having spent years of connections. Esme needed a husband, and John needed a wife. Esme was not quickly given away at convenience, do you truly think families would allow that??

Our whole lives do not revolve around spirituality and thinking we are being followed by ghosts. We do not live in a constant state of paranoia — it’s unrealistic.

Of course, we dabble into it once in a while, we explore what we can’t see and test the waters, but we are not running around believing there is a bad omen behind us.

Reading People.

Honestly, I do believe this is also something exaggerated in people when writing. We don’t sit and analyse you when we first meet you, but we do try to find out about you before we begin sharing details of ourselves.

We don’t go, “oh, she scratched her nose, she’s a pathological liar”, but we do go, “he’s quite fidgety, perhaps he’s uncomfortable”.

Yet we do still make mistakes, we are not upper beings who know all and do all. We do still make bad friends, and become close with people we do not truly know, despite the fact we thought we knew them.

We do still get in arguments and upsetting conversations, we are not immune to emotions.

Enough of the negative.

I’ll be blunt and honest, we do still make mistakes. We will still get in silly fights, we do still push people a little bit too far, which is normal, we are all human, no?

Roma feel emotions, we get sad when our day isn’t going right, and feel happy when our dinner came out perfectly cooked. We feel love for those closest to us, and feel an intense amount of care for them.

We have friends, lots of friends. Sometimes they’re only Roma friends, other times we meet them in primary school.

We have family celebrations, where we thank musicians by licking money (notes 💴) and sticking them to their foreheads.

We have horses, often not many but us usually a family will have one.

We are not natural riders. Of course we do pick it up quite quickly, having seen those around us do it so often, however we do make mistakes. We do fall off our horses, and we get upset when we do, because it hurts and we’re human. We do have good days with our horses, where we are content and happy.

We make AMAZING meals with cabbage, this could be a whole post in itself. However, we aren’t too good with cooking bread, (for some odd reason?).

We sit with our families and talk about our days. Yes there is secrets, but we do still discuss “why on earth have they changed that shop?”

Just remember when writing us, we are regular human beings, and I think you’ll do okay! <3

[peakypacks]

headers - peaky blinders season 5 with psd

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[florenceszworld]

peaky blinders headers

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with psd.

[smellyzcat]

peaky blinders headers

[ch4oswalking]

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[myfav0tps]

Headers I made pt 2

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•Part 1

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[j4ebeom]

finn cole x sophie rundle messy layout!

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[xmelaniconsx]

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[peakypacks]

headers - peaky blinders season 5 without psd

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[little-diable]

A woman's helping hand (1/3) - Tommy Shelby

Ahh I’m so hyped for this! It was time for another crime story, here we go with my new mini series. Please reblog if you enjoyed reading this, I'm always open to chat about this series with you. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: A serial killer is keeping the people of Birmingham on their toes, with the number of victims rising higher each night, Tommy and the Blinders are forced to interfere, eventually having to rely on the help of a woman. The woman that warms Tommy’s bed at night, the woman that has always been kept in the dark about their business. 

Warnings: 18+, unprotected vaginal sex, degrading, spanking, choking, talks of murder and blood, mentions rape (but no description of it)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.7k words)

Header by @hidingsikki

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Part 2 Part 3

“Have you read this?” Arthur’s voice filled the dining room, eyes focused on Tommy who was staring socially ahead, barely sparing the man a glance. Arthur threw the newspaper he was holding in his hands onto the table, forcefully hitting Tommy’s tea cup. And for a second nothing but silence filled the room, echoing off the four walls as if their final verdict had been spoken.

“Can’t have one morning to ourselves, eh?” Tommy’s eyes met (y/n)’s, who kept glancing between the men surrounding her. One by one she studied them, their grim expressions, the cigarettes hanging between their lips and the barely noticeable expression of uncertainty tugging on their features. 

They were afraid. But of what? 

Slowly Tommy picked the newspaper up, not sparing the maid who was cleaning the wet table any of his attention. His eyes moved along the lines, eyebrows furrowed together as he found himself deep in thought. 

“What is that? A fucking waste of my precious morning with my wife, that’s what this is.” An annoyed huff left Tommy as he pushed the paper against Arthur’s chest, hoping that he and the other Blinders would finally leave his home. But his prayers went by unheard, once again did Arthur open the newspaper, placing it down on the now dry table.

“A serial killer keeps the people of Birmingham on their toes. Another victim has been found, dumped near the canal. Too many cuts litter the man’s face, he couldn’t be identified yet. The cruel work of a gang?” Arthur read the article out loud, eyes finding Tommy’s whenever he inhaled another deep drag of air. The man kept quiet, not reacting to the gruesome words that rolled off Arthur’s tongue. 

“Wake up, Tom! That’s bad news, fucking bad news. We can’t afford to have any more attention on us, not when the deal with the,” a loud “Shut up” rumbled through Tommy, shutting his brother up before he could spill any further information. Information Tommy tried to shield (y/n) from, not wanting to pull her into the mess of his business. A sombre fact the woman was awfully aware of, forcing her to rise from her seat, hands folded in front of her waist.

“If you excuse me, I am still quite tired.” The men watched (y/n) leave, patiently waiting till the sound of the bedroom door falling shut echoed through the house. No longer did they care about Tommy’s morning, no longer did they care about wasting any time, fully focused on the pressuring fact that a serial killer was walking freely around their city. 

“This is nothing but gossip, you hear me? You are making a fucking fool of yourself, Arthur.” Tommy reached for a cigarette, and with the first pieces of ash he burned a hole into the newspaper. But the men kept pressing on, sitting down on the empty chairs to force Tommy’s attention onto the problem at hand. 

“Tom,” John took off his cap, eyes closing in on his brother, whose features dripped with annoyance. “This is serious, seven victims so far. The number keeps growing nightly. We have to do something about this.” 

Tommy didn’t reply, deep in thought he kept watching ash fall from his cigarette, falling like the soldiers he keeps dreaming about at night, barely able to sleep through an hour or two, ripped from his nightmares. There were pressing matters keeping him busy, deals he was  working on, the business he had to care for, a serial killer wasn’t something he wanted to waste any of his time on. But even Tommy seemed to understand that whoever was making trouble in his city, only meant bad news for their business. 

“Alright, we gotta be fucking smart about his. Do we know anything about whoever is doing this?” Tommy reached for another cigarette, impatiently studying his family members who only shook their head no. 

“Gotta start somewhere, eh, John, see what you can get your hands on, I don’t care who you’ll have to pester with this, just be fucking quick. Arthur, ask around the Garrison, maybe some will talk after a drink or two.” He rose from the seat, cigarette left to burn out as Tommy started moving towards the stairs, ending their conversation right there and then. 

“What about you? What will you do?” John’s voice forced Tommy to halter in his step, eyes fluttering close in annoyance before he turned towards the curious men. Like God - or rather the devil - about to judicialize them, Tommy towered over the men, staring them down.

“I’ll apologize to my wife for my fucking brothers disturbing our morning together.” He left them standing, making his way into the bedroom, where (y/n) was patiently waiting for him. She held a book in her hands, barely reading the words that have oh so carefully been printed onto the expensive paper. 

“I was wondering if you’d return at all.” A chuckle bubbled out of her, the book found its way to the ground as Tommy moved closer. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, allowing him to press his front against hers, settling between (y/n)’s outstretched thighs. A searing kiss was shared between the lovers, Tommy’s hand disappeared underneath her dress, caressing her warm skin, the skin he had touched only a few hours ago. 

“As if you’d doubt my return. I’ll always find my way back to you, love.” He cupped her heat with his calloused fingers, groaning against her lips at the loss of clothing separating his hand from her cunt. “Have you been sitting bare with my brothers around?”

“Perhaps I was simply gambling, hoping that you wouldn’t manage to stay away for long.” Tommy pushed himself off her frame before he flipped her around, front now pressed against the mattress. Quick movements shuffled her dress up to her waist, exposing her bare behind to his twinkling eyes. And without a warning, his palm connected with her skin, set on burning his handprint into the spot.

“Such a desperate whore, you got no shame, do you?” Her moans left his cock twitching, growing harder in his trousers with every passing minute. She was soaking the spot she was lying on, arousal dripped from her slit, sticking to her skin like honey dripping down one's lips. 

“Five more, then you’ll take my cock like the slut you are, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” (Y/n) could only reply with another moan clawing through her, whimpering at every hard slap that connected with her skin. She felt her clit pulsing in need, hoping that Tommy would finally give in and fuck her, burying his cock deep inside of her. 

And like a prayer being heard by whoever was listening, he let go of her, hands working on his tight trousers to pull his cock free. With one hand slung around her waist, Tommy pulled her back against his front, forcing her to kneel on the warm mattress in front of him. He pushed into her from behind, ripping open her walls as if he had never fucked her before, claiming (y/n) with every ferocious thrust. 

(Y/n)’s cries left her like a shout leaving a dying woman, desperate for any help. But no help would come, not with Tommy Shelby having his grip on her body and soul, forever marked as his. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tommy fucked her with no mercy lingering in his system, set on pushing them over the edge in no time. His hand found her throat, squeezing her windpipe to heighten her senses, watching how goosebumps littered her body. Excitement. Anticipation. And the thrill of death over life.

“Taking my cock so well, fuck, I always knew you were the right one for me.” Tommy murmured his words into her ear, eyelids falling shut as her walls started fluttering around his cock, pulling him even deeper into her. Soon she’d cum, let go with his name rolling off her tongue, a sound so sweet Tommy would have no choice but follow her down the rabbithole. 

The sound of their bodies slapping together rang in their ears, filling their every vein with the aching need of pleasure they were oh so addicted to. A bittersweet feeling they’d chase even in the darkest nights. 

“Cum for me, soak my cock.” Blindly her body followed his command, she came with a moan, having to hold onto his forearms to stabilise her trembling frame. Tommy fucked her through her high, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible, not up for letting her go just yet. 

(Y/n) felt Tommy imprint himself on her walls, filling her with his hot cum, a feeling she should be all too used to, but still found herself moaning over like an easy woman doing this simply for the money. 

Tommy gently let go of her as he pulled out, watching his cum drip from her cunt, making a mess on the sheets. He couldn’t help but chuckle, enjoying the blissful expression tugging on his wife’s features. Wordlessly he started cleaning them with the towel kept nearby, only fully letting go of her as he started redressing himself. 

“I’ll have to go now, can’t leave them alone for long.” He kissed her one last time, forcing a moan of protest out of (y/n) as he parted from her. 

“Where are you going?” She called after him, but without any luck. Tommy didn’t reply, once again leaving her in the dark. 

“We don’t have much. Just his name, Abe Chimes, he was a regular at some brothels in the area. Apparently he was known for being too rough and not paying for any services.” Arthur leaned back in his seat as he watched Tommy turn towards him, leaning against his office table. 

“A fucking rapist?”

Please like and reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading this, come talk to me about my writing, let’s spill some tea or thirst over our favorite people. xxx

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[smellyzcat]

peaky blinders headers

[moonlight-prose]

The Queen’s Game (Pt.1)

(none of the pictures used in header belong to me)

A/N: This idea came out of the blue when I was trying to write something else entirely. I’m tempted to make it a series, but I am not sure yet. Let me know if you would rather have this as a series.

Summary: Tommy Shelby was the king of his own kingdom. People feared him just as they feared the entire Shelby family. That is until you come into town. They call you a devil disguised as an angel. A queen in your own right, and Tommy Shelby was about to find out why.

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Warnings: none

Song: all the good girls go to hell - Billie Eilish

      Dangerous, lethal, a devil being disguised as an angel. They were terrified of her, but they wanted her all the same. Maybe she truly was a devil with a halo to help hide her true nature. No one could tell the truth anymore. A red dress, red lips, and a dangerous glint in her eyes to match. She beckoned them in like a siren, whispering promises of seduction and love to them and instead delivering them a bullet.

      When she arrived in Birmingham, she was famous. By name only, but seeing that stark contrast of red against the bleak colors let everyone knew the devil had arrived in town. She looked like blood being dripped onto the cobble-stoned streets with every step she took towards that bar. A walking nightmare disguised as a vision for the night. A queen and a siren in her own right.

      Tommy Shelby was becoming famous himself among the people in London. They knew what he did, what he worked in, and who the Peaky Blinders were. A family of gangsters, but that didn’t mean they were dangerous to the likes of you. Smoothing out your red dress you headed towards The Garrison where you knew you’d find Mr. Shelby. However, he knew you were coming. Had heard about you entering his territory the second your pretty red heel stepped off the train.

      He clapped John on the shoulder as they talked business when the men in The Garrison suddenly became quiet. The Shelby men reacted by reaching for their guns. Only they would need a different weapon to deal with you. Opening the door Tommy saw you standing there, the red standing out against the browns of the building. You were a vision; a painting come to life.

      “Who the fuck is that?” Arthur asked from behind him.

      Yet Tommy couldn’t find the words to say anything. Your eyes were locked with his and a slight smirk had begun to form on your scarlet painted lips. Tommy Shelby, just the man you were looking for. Immediately you headed towards the bar and ordered a whiskey knowing he would come towards you eventually. They always did. Men of power wanted the delicacies of life; the pleasures; and they saw you as one of them.

      You just so happened to learn how to use it in your favor.

      Leaving his brothers behind Tommy headed towards you. He felt drawn to you, almost as if he needed to speak to you, hear your voice. Tommy Shelby had fallen under your spell before you even cast it.

      “Hello Mr. Shelby,” you said.

      He stood next to you and before he could say anything a drink was placed in front of him just as usual. Taking a sip, he thought over who you really were. Other than being called the most dangerous woman to talk to, who were you? What made you tick? He rarely cared when it came to other people, but you were different. You intrigued him.

      “You know who I am,” he said after a moment.

      Your e/c eyes met his blue eyes and now it was your turn to shake yourself from his spell. That must be how he made so many deals. His eyes cast spells on people until they had no choice but to say yes to him.

      “Everyone knows who you are.” You set the glass down in front of you as he took the seat next to you. “Just as you know who I am,” you said.

      “I don’t know everything about you,” Tommy replied.

      He pulled out a cigarette and you watched entranced as he moved gracefully to light it. Almost as if it was a part of him. Tommy Shelby smoked in a seductive way, calling you towards him. Definitely dangerous, you thought to yourself. Which is why you came to see him.

      “What don’t you know Mr. Shelby?” you asked.

      He thought for a moment taking in the sight of you once more. A woman in a red dress who looked like an angel, but was said to be the opposite. He could have thought of a thousand questions to ask you only that wasn’t why you were there sitting in his bar. That wasn’t why you were staring at him, offering him a game.

      “Who sent you?”

      Smoke filled the air between you two clouding your vision for a second. Yet you never lost sight of those eyes of him.

      “What makes you think I was sent here?” you asked.

      His lips curled up slightly into a smirk that sent your heart rate up. “Women don’t come to Birmingham unless they need something.”

      You rolled your eyes. “No? What if I told you I was here to ask for your help?”

      “What would needing my help entail?” Tommy would know how to play this if you were any other woman. Only you weren’t any other woman. You were someone who knew the wild life he led, because you led it yourself. There was a reason they called you a devil with a halo.

      “I think we both know what that is.”

      He smiled and heat was shot through your body. “So, Luca Changretta is your problem as well?”

      “You’re smarter than I took you for Mr. Shelby.” You took another sip of the whiskey.

      “What exactly does he want from you?” Tommy asked. This was where things got complicated. He wondered what your answer would be, but some part of him already knew the answer.

      “He wants me.”

      Tommy couldn’t figure out why that made his anger to flare, but now he wanted to put a bullet in Luca Changretta even more. He barely met you an hour ago, yet Tommy Shelby needed you to stay protected. In his mind Luca Changretta wasn’t allowed anywhere near you. It could have been the spell talking, or the way you stared at him, but he wanted you more than he’d wanted anyone.

      “Tell me…” he began.

      “Y/N.”

      Tommy took a drag of the cigarette liking the sound of your name. “Tell me why he wants you.”

      You reached out and pulled the cigarette from his hand placing it between your lips. Anybody else would have been shot, but he let you take it. He was unable to make a move against you. There was something erotic about the way your red lips molded around the spot where his were moments ago. Blowing out the smoke you quirked an eyebrow at him.

      “I think you know exactly why,” you replied.

      He’d heard the rumors, but played them off as just rumors. Only now you sat there in front of him practically proclaiming the truth. Another gang had started in London and at the forefront someone lethal; someone who could help him take down Changretta.

      Tommy smiled. You really played your cards perfectly; knew what to say and do the second you walked through the door. No one was able to catch the leader of the new gang, because nobody expected it to be a woman. You were hiding in plain sight as a woman of sin; a small piece to the game, when in fact you were the ruler. You were the queen of your own regime and you needed his help.

      “It’s you,” he said.

      This time it was you who smiled as smoke blew from your lips. “Surprised Mr. Shelby?”

      He shook his head. “Not in the least.”

      “You are the first person to guess correctly.” You liked him.

The famous Tommy Shelby played your game flawlessly and in your eyes that meant you held him with high regard. He was his own king in a way. The ruler of his own kingdom here in Birmingham. How fitting the Queen who ruled a lethal gang would need the assistance of a king known for being lethal all on his own.

      “He wants you to help him kill me,” Tommy said deducing the whole situation in seconds.

      “Clever, but not quite.” You took another sip. “Luca Changretta doesn’t want me to just help him kill you, he wants me to hand over everything. That Italian bastard wants to own my gang.”

      Tommy was shocked by this, but again it was Luca Changretta they were talking about. He thought he could come here and take over, but instead he was in for a rude awakening.

      “He wants to kill you too,” Tommy said.

      You nodded. “I’ve known that for a while now.”

      “I think we need to talk business.” Tommy downed the rest of his glass expecting you to follow him back to where his brothers were sitting waiting to hear exactly what you said.

      Standing you took one last drag of his cigarette before placing it back in-between his fingers. You downed the rest of your drink and turned back to Tommy who stared at you like you were the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. However, you weren’t here to become another asset to the Shelby clan. You were there to ensure your own home was safe from the people after the Shelbys.

      “I suppose we should. But not tonight Mr. Shelby. This was merely a formality.” You left a small piece of paper with delicate handwriting behind. The address of where you were staying.

      Leaving the bar, you knew Tommy Shelby would come after you. He would seek you out just as they all did, only this time you wanted him to seek you out. You wanted him to come after you. He wasn’t like you expected him to be. Instead he gave off the air or power, but still knew where he stood in the world. He didn’t let the power he held go to his head and you respected him even more for that. With a smile on your lips and a powerful sway in your body you left him sitting there wanting more.

      Tommy Shelby had met with powerful people before. He’d played the game they wanted him to play, but with you it felt different. You didn’t just offer him the winnings, you offered him something more. Every man had their eyes on you in the bar, but you only held his. You ignored them, because you knew they would stare. That was your power.

A queen had walked into his life and suddenly for the first time, the king was ready to bow down and play her game.

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