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geeky-politics-46 · 4 months

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 12

Titty Fucking with Arthur Shelby

"Pearl Necklace"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You & Arthur have another afternoon romp in his office

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, jealousy, swearing, pet names, marking, oral sex, titty fucking, handjob, cumplay, pearl necklace, almost facial, little bit of fluff

After that first night you crossed the line, you and Arthur continued your affair with little guilt from either of you. Yes, he was still technically married to Linda; but emotionally and mentally, he was all yours. To the world, you were his in all possible aspects after that night. Something that soon spread to those in the office as well as those throughout Birmingham, and you are sure, got back to his wife as well.

Not that she could really have treated you any worse than she did before your affair started. If anything, Linda's abuse and vitriol towards you had lessened since your real affair began. She knew she had lost the battle that she had created in her own mind. That much was evident by the locket Arthur bought you with both of your initials on it. It was a promise that when business settled down, when the stock market fallout was done, he would leave Linda and make an honest woman out of you. Assuming she didn't divorce him first. He had contacts who told him she had been trying to find a lawyer for a while.

His family pretty much all knew about the two of you, and most of them were supportive. Tommy especially. Which was no surprise, really, knowing his dislike of Linda and preference towards you. He would often say he was sending Arthur out of town for business only to send the two of you to spend a few days locked in a suite at the Midland Hotel together instead. Polly and Lizzie were a little more critical that you two weren't doing more to hide your affair and keep it out of the office. Both metaphorically and literally.

Arthur's office itself still being one of the main sites of your romps. Even now, as Arthur called you into his office, you couldn't help the smile on your face. Your stride became all the more confident as other employees started to move towards the front door. None of them frankly wanting to hear you two fucking again.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby."

You used your sweetest voice as you walked in and shut the door behind you, not even bothering to throw the lock. If someone walked in, it was their own fault. You and Arthur loved playing cat and mouse at the office. A lopsided grin on his lips and a predatory glint in his eyes as you sashayed over to where he sat. An extra sway in your hips as you undid a couple extra buttons on your blouse. Making sure he would get an eyeful of your breasts and peek at your bra, his favorite mauve silk one, when you bent down over his desk.

He immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit in his lap. His face immediately buried in your neck, sucking and kissing at your throat. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hummed happily. Closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his lips on you.

"Apparently, you left some impressive scratch marks on my back a couple nights ago, love. Didn't even bother making up a lie to Linda when she saw them. Just shrugged. Don't fucking care anymore. Love it when you leave your mark on me, darlin’. Can't wait until I can openly tell everyone you're mine."

His fingers playing with the locket around your neck as he daydreamed about fucking you silly in your wedding dress. He had already removed his wedding ring. He only put it on anymore when he went home to Linda. He hated seeing it and knowing that it meant he wasn't married to you. That he still had to deal with her bullshit.

You could already feel his cock hardening beneath your ass. Letting your hips wiggle against him just a little to let him know you could feel it. He growled low in your ear nipping at the spot just below your ear.

"Well, Mr. Shelby, I did just touch up my lipstick, so how about I leave a new mark or two? Maybe here…"

You tilted his head up and to the side, placing a kiss on his neck. Pulling back to see the red lipstick print you left behind.

"... and here…"

This time, you placed a kiss on the other side of his neck. This time, making sure you placed it low enough on his neck to leave lipstick on his collar. Smiling at the way the bright shade popped against the starched white fabric.

You slithered out of his lap onto the floor in front of him. Your body poised between his legs. Keeping your eyes on his as you opened his waistcoat before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Opening them enough to expose the crotch of his white boxer shorts. Lowering your head until your lips were hovering just over the tent there.

"... and here."

You couldn't hold back a little giggle when you saw your lipstick print over his cock. Oh yes. This was the perfect little 'fuck you' to Linda. Maybe if you made her mad enough she would just leave on her own already. At this point all three of you knew she was staying merely out of spite.

"Fuck, angel. So good to me. Now quit that Mr. Shelby bullshit. At least until I can call you Mrs. Shelby. Besides you know I love hearing you scream my name when we fuck."

You raised up on your knees and drug your hands up over his muscular thighs onto his abdomen. Pulling at his suspenders as you tugged his head down to meet your lips. Nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away just far enough to whisper against his skin. His mustache tickling you lightly as you spoke.

"I want to make you scream my name right now, Arthur. You can make me scream later tonight."

Placing one more kiss on his lips, you pulled away and started working to undo his suspenders from his pants. Wiggling your behind excitedly once you had them undone and could start pulling his pants and boxers down to his knees. A smirk on his face at how exuberant you were to suck him off. He would happily return the favor later.

His cock springing free of it's confines as you settled back down onto your heels. Smiling up at him as you began peppering his inner thighs with lipstick tinted kisses. An almost lovesick look in Arthur's eyes as he watched you. His sweet little angel could be oh so devilish.

“Fuck, love. I can tell you right now I'm not gonna last long. Look so fucking pretty on your knees for me.”

With your most innocent eyes you started to kitten lick the tip of his cock. Lapping at it several times before licking your lips and fluttering your lashes at him. Humming to yourself like he was the most delicious treat you had ever tasted. Thoroughly pleased with your work when you opened your eyes and saw Arthur's mouth hanging open looking totally hypnotized. The lanky gangster may be feared by most of Birmingham, but you had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Love you, Arthur”

“Love you too, sw– ohhhhh”

Before Arthur could finish his sentence you lowered your head and took his cock as deep as you could. His words halting and giving way to needy groan. His head falling back and his eyes closing as you started to shallowly bob up and down on his shaft. Keeping your suction consistent until you decided to pull all the way off his cock with a loud pop.

You began to suckle on the head of his cock as you brought one hand up to stroke his hard length. Purposely licking over his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue. You loved getting a taste of what was now reserved just for you. Purring as you swirled your tongue around his ridge. Letting your saliva drip down his shaft and onto his balls.

Turning to look at the clock over your shoulder quickly while you moved to massage his balls, you realized just how soon Tommy was due to be back in the office. You needed to work fast if you wanted to finish Arthur off before you were inevitably interrupted. A wicked little plan forming in your mind.

Smiling sweetly up at him, you placed open mouth sucking kisses up and down his throbbing length. Your fingers nimbly working to open your blouse even more to completely reveal your chest. Your eyes locked with Arthur's as you pulled the cups of your bra down and let your breasts spill free.

After leaning over and spitting on the tip, you started stroking his cock with both hands. Twisting them in opposite directions on your upstroke. Making sure his cock was thoroughly soaked.

Once you were satisfied you suckled on his swollen head once more. Sucking as hard as you could while your tongue flicked at his frenulum. Pulling off of his cock after earning a shallow buck from Arthur's hips. You knew he was getting close.

Bracing yourself on his strong thighs, you scooted as close to the chair as you could. Letting the head of Arthur's cock rub against your chest. Painting a dribble of precum right next to the locket that bore both of your initials.

Arthur's eyebrow quirked up in question of what you were up to. His curiosity growing when you moved the locket over your shoulder so it was out of the way and brought your hands to your breasts and started toying with your nipples. Spitting onto his cock again as you positioned his manhood between your tits and squeezed them together.

Slowly starting to move up and down you smiled deviously as you saw the light bulb click on in Arthur's brain, finally realizing that you wanted him to fuck your tits. Excitedly he brushed his hands over your cheeks and down onto your shoulders as he gently started to thrust his hips.

“Oh, such a naughty mind you have, lovey. Gonna be wearing my cum the rest of the day.”

“Maybe that's what I want. I marked you, now I want you to mark me, Arthur.”

The visual of his cock squeezed between your beautiful breasts was quickly pushing Arthur to the edge. His thrusts growing faster and harder by the second. His teeth gritting together and a growl coming from deep in his chest when you stuck out your tongue so you could lick at the tip of his cock when it peaked up between your breasts.

His breathing started to fall in heavy shaky blows as he struggled to keep any sense of composure. He looked truly wrecked as you gazed up at him through your lashes. His brown hair falling forward over his face, his mouth hanging open, and desperately trying to keep his eyes on the erotic sight of you before him.

“Oh, fuck love, gonna cum! So fuckin’ good to me. Feels so fuckin’ good! Keep your tongue out darlin’. Here it comes!”

A deep growl and a moan falling from Arthur's lips as his hips stuttered and his fingers dug into your shoulders so hard they were sure to leave bruises. His cock twitching as his cum erupted onto your chest, neck, and chin. The warmth of his thick white spend making you shiver against the cool air in the office.

You couldn't help but giggle at Arthur as he fell back exhausted into his chair. Desperately trying to catch his breath. Leaning forward and placing a few more kitten licks on his softening cock and his thighs before pulling up and refastening his boxers, and lovingly caressing his thighs. Comforting your contented lover.

Suddenly, the door quickly swung open and in stepped Arthur's brother, Tommy. He, in particular, seemed to have a knack at knowing the worst possible times to appear. Startling both you and poor Arthur out of his post-orgasm haze. Arthur immediately moved to sit up and pretend you hadn't both been caught.

As soon as he saw you on your knees and his brother's pants undone, Tommy essentially knew what he had walked in on. He was relieved to see that at least it appeared he missed the main event. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips, addressing both of you nonchalantly before leaving just as quickly as he had entered. His face was unchanged the entire time.

“Clean up. Both of you. Family meeting in five minutes.”

Your cheeks had turned beet red in embarrassment. Unsure of whether Tommy had been able to see your bare breasts or that your chest and neck were coated in Arthur's cum. Suddenly second guessing your decision not to lock the office door after all.

Arthur pulled you up into his lap and started cleaning you up with his handkerchief and laughing at your sheepish expression. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips as he finished wiping you down. He fixed your bra and straightened out your locket, kissing you more deeply before reassuring you his brother wouldn't give you trouble.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. If Tom says anything, I'll just say that he hasn't paid me enough to buy you a proper pearl necklace, so we improvised.”

You threw your head down into his neck and burrowed into his arms even farther in embarrassment. Arthur's arms holding onto you as tight as he could, laughing even louder when he felt you starting to giggle too and placing kisses into your hair. Both of you were aware that even if Tommy didn’t say anything at the very least, John would enjoy giving both of you hell.

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videoreligion · 1 year

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Event Horizon (1997)

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alicent-targaryen · 11 months

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TOMMY, JOHN & ARTHUR SHELBY ▸ Peaky Blinders, 2.1

requested by @jomarch-wannabe

#last gif -- john! 🤦‍♀️ 🤣#peaky blinders #john shelby #joe cole #arthur shelby #paul anderson #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tv #gif by ria #tw long post #requested

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red-riding-wood · 1 year

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PEAKY BLINDERS

"There is good in my heart. But my hands... these hands belong to the Devil." - Arthur Shelby

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sparksetfire · 24 days

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PEAKY BLINDERS | 6.06 • 1.05 |

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brun0 · 1 month

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#john shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #peaky blinders #gif #joe cole #cillian murphy #paul anderson

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mcqraw · 9 months

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Paul Anderson as Colonel Sebastian Moran

#sherlock holmes a game of shadows #sebastian moran #paul anderson #guy ritchie #sherlock edit #movie edit #guess what i rewatched yesterday 🫢#paul anderson's moran is my fav moran like 10/10 🙌 idc #sherlockholmesedit #rdj sherlock #my stuff

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call-sign-shark · 3 months

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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: When starting the vendetta with the Peaky Blinders, Luca Changretta didn't expect you, Arthur's wife, to be the one meeting him. Now that you're facing him, he's determined to make you understand who leads the dance. It's a man's world after all! || Featuring Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 6.7k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, drug use, slight allusions to sex, canonical misogyny, quick allusions to domestic abuse, witchcraft (canonical since PB flirts with it sometimes), fluff, Arthur is as fucked up as cute, depictions of slaughter and body horror. The last part of this chapter is a flash forward. What happened will be described in the next chapter.

Notes:

✞ The mentioned character of Aurora, Luca's wife, belonged to @zablife.

✞ The bold sentence Heaven says comes from Lana Del Rey.

✞ This is chapter 15 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Usually, each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The dim glow of luxuriant chandeliers cast their orange light over the bar, their warm hue sublimating the rich notes of aged oak from which the counter had been sculpted. Standing alone on a barstool with your crystal gaze fixed on the swirling depths of your glass of red wine, you relished how the liquid gracefully danced and caught the light in a hypnotizing display of crimson elegance. Smooth as silk, its robe was deprived of lees and hugged your throat at each sip. It had been a while since you hadn't drunk such fine alcohol, and this experiment was almost enough to make you forget the curious glances of some noisy clients. As rare as it was to see a woman drinking by herself at the bar without the company of a gentleman due to the prohibited nature of such actions, no one had dared confront you about the matter yet. The waiter had thought of doing so because it didn't feel right to him but one look at the deadly frost of your eyes had been efficient enough for him to swallow his words and mind his own business. Wise decision, you weren't in the mood to be polite. There had been something off in the way you had stared at him, like a wild cat waiting for its prey to come just a little bit closer to pounce on it. He quickly lowered his gaze and went on with wiping down his glass, definitely not taking the risk of causing a scene. Bringing the expensive glass to your plump lips, you froze mid-movement at the sudden feeling of someone's presence behind your back. So, he came. Your mouth slowly curled in a cold, sardonic smirk. Your special guest didn't bother to greet you. Instead, he simply put his fedora hat on the bar counter right where the corner of your eyes you could see it.

"Isn't it the lady who should play hard to get?" You stated before drowning your sarcasm with a gulp of wine, its complex and refined taste displaying all its flavors on your tongue. So far, it has been one of the few places in which the wine was exquisite. And French, of course.

Swiftly slipping between two barstools, the man sat next to you — all his movements, measured and confident, denoted an indescribable elegance.

"So?" A collected and alluring voice inquired, wasting no time in futile courtesy nor in answering your taunt. He would have been surprised if his men hadn't warned him that you were the kind of woman to never be at a loss for words. Just like the two other harpies of the Shelby clan though.

"So, you spare my husband." You finished your glass and put it back on the wooden counter with a movement that translated both your firmness and determination. If there was one thing he had learned throughout his gangster life it was to pay attention to details. Since the very beginning of his criminal activities, Luca always focused on the way someone moved, especially because body language often said much more about people than words themselves. Contrary to prose, the body never lied, and concerning yours the signals were rather clear: you wouldn't cave in. "Oh, and you also spare Finn but it stands to reason. He's just a kid after all." Your request, spoken with a measured yet Artic calmness, snatched an amused snort from the threatening man. How did you dare bargain with him about who would die and who would live while your place wasn't in men's business? Luca slightly shook his head, disconcerted by the fact that the random wife of an enemy could behave so insolently with him while he could easily end her life with the gun he was hiding under his four-digit price jacket.

"In return for what?" His sharp eyes fixed intently on your dainty frame as he spoke. His expression, usually veiled in stoic composure, betrayed a keen attentiveness that mirrored his interest. Making himself comfortable on the barstool, he withdrew a matchbox from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the muted light. With languid grace, he extracted a match, the small stick cradled between his fingers, and brought it to his lips.

"Tommy Shelby." Your voice resounded like a chilling death knell when you pronounced these syllables nonchalantly as if selling one of your in-laws was nothing but one of the many formalities to retrieve your peaceful life. Such apathy was a bit chilling he reckoned. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he held the match delicately between his teeth. After a while, you eventually condescended to look at the man, your iris meeting the splendid green of his. The same green eyes that squinted a little bit now that they had a clear sight of your doll face, whose cold beauty made him wonder what the hell such a delicate thing like you was doing here, involving herself in the middle of intricating gang wars.

"Well, interesting." He mused, a part of him genuinely excited at the thought of butchering Tommy, the other still intrigued by you and how you contrasted with everything else around. No, how you contrasted with everything he had ever seen in his life. Changretta's features, chiseled and unyielding, remained an inscrutable mask, but beneath the surface, a calculated mind sought to see right through you. His posture exuded a quiet confidence despite your unsettling aura and ghostly appearance, a testament to the years of navigating the treacherous underworld of crimes.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked, going on with his observation of every tiny detail of your face. To be honest, Luca didn't imagine you like this. All he had been told about you was that you were the French harlot Arthur Shelby had married, some kind of bratty young girl who came from nowhere. At first, he was convinced that you would be nothing but boring at worst, or entertaining in your way of begging for your husband's life at best but you were none of these. Now that he was sitting next to you at the bar, discussing as if he hadn't murdered one of the most important people in your life, he found himself enthralled by the pure snow-white color of your long hair. More than your unusual hair color, what had surprised him the most was how your coldness cut with the softness of your physical traits. You felt like a walking paradox to him, your appearance conveying a message at the antithesis of what you truly were.

"Because it's all in my interest to see him dead and cold." You replied with a little shrug. Admittedly, you didn't imagine him like this. Quite the contrary, your mind had created the picture of a rat-faced gangster marked with ugly scars and vicious black eyes by dint of hearing how Arthur talked about him. Yet, here you were, facing a rather attractive gentleman with such atypical traits and a charismatic aura that your eternal coldness was slightly shaken. Men of these kinds were always the most dangerous, you thought with full knowledge of the facts. Luca Changretta was something: as slim as Arthur yet standing taller, his face was adorned with a seductive charm and an aquiline nose which rendered his features even more unique.

"Principessa" He started, sneering. Luca pushed the match to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue one last time before his sly fingers grabbed it to put it in the nearest ashtray. Then, his hand reached for the whisky glass the waiter had just put in front of him, "Allow me to doubt that. You are a Shelby, and I've heard your clan is tightly knitted together. Don't think of me fool enough to believe that a Shelby would want to kill another one." Luca concluded his accusation with a little head tilt as he swallowed his whisky in one go. A small grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the pleasant burn the alcohol left in his trail.

"The only reason I bear the name Shelby is for my husband, not for anyone else. If you aren't aware of it may I suggest that your informants only did half of the job otherwise you should have known that Thomas had been nothing but a bane to my existence from the first day we met."

"A bane? That's not a trivial world to use when talking about your brother-in-law." Changretta's fingers, adorned with sleek rings, tapped against the wooden counter as a clear manifestation of his suspicions.

"Well, he had tried to strangle me, then blamed me for his son's abduction, and also for his brother's death and now he is actively seeking to ruin my marriage. I think "bane" is an appropriate way to call him. Now," You said with a little wave of the hand, "if my offer doesn't stir your interest I'd rather leave." When you shifted your body to stand up, Luca's immense hand gently rested on yours to invite you to sit back. The striking temperature difference between his warm flesh and the iciness of your skin gave him sudden goosebumps. Once you did sit back, his unimpressed mask cracked and moved on to an amused and fascinated smile that danced on his thin lips. It was a heavily murderous speech for such a little thing. If it wasn't for the frost you were made of, you would have made him think of his own more fire-coded wife.

"Let me tell you something. My mother was a very patient woman you know?" He said out of the blue with a softer voice, "I've never heard her raise her voice during all my childhood except once. That was one of the many reasons she was a teacher every kid loved. When she did yell at me I was a kid and I just saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. Straight out of a fairy tale with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow and little beady eyes as red as precious rubies. Usually, wild animals are skippish but that little fella didn't move away when I approached it. It seemed so quiet and docile that I decided to pet it. And do you know what the ferret did?" Luca leaned over you at his question, his face closer to yours and his smirk stretching in an evil grin, "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite. I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh up to this day. A bite scar among the gunshots and stab wounds." He paused for a while, his green eyes momentarily dropping to your swollen lips and lingering on the white pearly fangs he could glimpse at when you "tsk" at him. The air suddenly crackled with a palpable tension that thickened with every second flying by. Each of his silences loudly echoed the rising intensity of the moment one of you would snap at the other. But it never happened, and the only thing Luca did was grin even more, his squinted eyes meeting yours again. "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

His words, coated with honey but cutting like razor blades, made the corner of your plum lips subtlety curl in a dangerous but brief smirk too at the realization that all the rumors surrounding the Italian were true: he was devilishly clever. Maybe that was why you didn't manage to completely hate him despite his horrible actions. While your dainty body, your small size, and the far-too-seraphic complexions of your face often misled people about the brutality that was coursing through your cursed veins and the sickening void of your coal-black pupils, Luca didn't fall for any of them. Not even the glittery makeup and your big round eyes could make him ignore the creepy murmurs of the underlying Devil living in you. After a brief and uncomfortable silence that seemed to last one awful eternity, you finally parted your lips.

"Let me tell you something too," Your voice was a gentle melody, "Arthur and John should have killed your mother." Each word flowed like a soft breeze, carrying a subtle allure that only enhanced the cruelty of their meaning. Your lack of consideration for potentially hurting his feelings had taken him aback. " But they decided to spare her despite Little King Shelby's ruthless order. They genuinely wanted to do it out of sheer compassion" You pursed your lips and backed up from Luca, rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' idiots, they should have killed her when they had the chance." The mobster quickly moistened his lips, the faint surprised expression on his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"His ruthlessness was right." He agreed, "They should have." Luca concluded, yet elaborating an arrangement with you didn’t seem to be his top priority suddenly. The mobster already knew he would grant you your wishes, the idea of having direct access to Tommy was too alluring to resist after all. What he wanted at his precise moment was… Different. "You know, I don't fear being bitten anymore — the danger is a deliciously wicked part of the job I learned to accept and love. Considering this, Mrs, Shelby" He let his sentence hanged as he offered you the palm of his hand, long and bony fingers waiting for yours. "May I ask for a dance?" His eyes sparkled with an amusement that hinted at a hidden game, a dance of power between you and him. The seductive charm with which he invited you blurred the lines between rivalry and fascination.

"Do we have a deal?" You inquired with one brow raised, just to make sure he had taken notes of your terms.

"A deal for a dance." He slightly wiggled the fingers of his inviting hand. "Plus, you're already dancing with me in your own way."

A discreet and longer inhale escaped from your nostrils as you weighed the pros and cons but still you slipped your hand into his, which enveloped your skin with a tender strength. A little dance couldn't hurt anyone, you thought. Without further ado, Luca led the way to the dance floor as you both snaked in and out through the crowd until you reached a more spacious corner. It was the mafioso who initiated the dance. First, his grip strengthened around you: not to the extent of hurting you of course but definitely enough to make you understand that you were trapped. Then, his arm wrapped around your waist firmly like a snake. "Closer," He instructed and you obliged, taking a step toward him and placing your free upon his shoulder. After he set the rhythm, you started to move to the slow melody the orchestra was playing across the room. As the haunting music enveloped you, you moved in synchronized steps, your bodies entwined in a waltz that displayed outside tenderness while your eyes held a sharp glint of adversaries locked in an unspoken battle.

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

With each twirl and turn, the odd and gripping tension you shared thickened, just like an intricate tango of conflicting emotions. As soft as the dance had started, it was gradually turning into a visceral yet elegant battlefield where intimidation and seduction engaged in a delicate but fierce fight.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

Your heart leaped in your tight ribcage at a sudden dip, your hair hanging down like a silver cascade, and your gaze set on the golden sculpted ceiling that quickly flashed in front of your eyes before disappearing, replaced by Luca's intense green eyes again.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

"Don't be shy Amore," He cooed with a charming wink before pulling you even closer to him until your body collided with his. You stopped breathing for a short moment, shutting your eyes when you realized that your face was almost nuzzled in the crook of his neck. In that fleeting moment, you relinquished a fraction of your resistance, swept away by the remote yet familiar feeling of letting someone guide you without any need to think— or maybe that was the sweet fragrance of his cologne which pleasantly tingled your nostrils that woke up memories anchored deep within your mind. From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

And you hated how pleasant it felt. You viscerally hated it.

Both the song's tempo and Luca's steps fastened as he noticed the subtle change in your facial expression, slowly turning your graceful dance into a dizzying and confusing round. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, daring it to reveal its vulnerability. The room seemed to spin around you and yet, you clenched your jaw and forced yourself to maintain an unmoved facade. No. You wouldn't sink into melancholia. Gathering all your willpower, you chased away the panic that crept within you and felt a rush of anger toward Luca for daring to reopen an old wound you tried to heal every day of your life since you left France. And with anger came the end of your self-control.

To hell with Tommy's plan, you could put an end to this exhausting vendetta yourself by killing the infamous Luca Changretta right here, right now.

Guided by your murderous nature, you started to focus on his heartbeat as soon as you regained control of the dance, forcing him to slow down the pace. In a thorough study of his pulse, you could clearly hear the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat resounding in his chest, and even counted how many times it beat in one minute. And the more you listened to it, the more music faded away in the background.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Killing him would be a piece of cake considering the horrific magic that was coursing through your veins, the magic of blood and flesh. All you would have to do was accelerate his pulse until it became too much for his body to bear. In a minute, Luca would drop to the ground, limp and dead. No blood, no fight, just the sudden and inevitable consequences of a heart attack. Quite different from the gruesome and slow death you had wished to inflict upon Tommy the day he had crossed the line.

"You're a great dancer, Miss Shelby." The mobster stated, having no choice but to follow your slower pace. Now you were the one leading the dance, "Did your husband teach you? I must admit that I have all the trouble of the world imagining Arthur Shelby being good at waltzing." He had already trouble imagining how the most rabid of these Gypsy bastards could have pulled you, to be honest. His tastes regarding women might not encompass you but, God, he thought that your place wasn't beside a man like Arthur Shelby since you could easily be a trophy wife for a classy and far more powerful criminal. Or some blue blood, but these were the same except the latter legally robbed people.

"Arthur is far better at dancing than what he seems but it wasn't him who taught me." Your reply was sharper than intended.

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

"So you've been married before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement for the mafioso had easily decypher your micro-expressions despite your best efforts to hide them.

"Engaged. We didn't make it to the actual wedding."

Kill him. Kill him now.

The fingers that were resting on his shoulder dug deeper into his jacket as you channeled the gift your mother had passed you the day of your birth. It could have gone unnoticed if you hadn't paid attention but Luca's eyebrows slightly frowned, not understanding why his heart had started racing like that all of sudden.

"That's a shame. And how does one lose a woman like you? If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee." Luca grinned, his charming voice steady but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed the building pain he was feeling in his chest. Men were all the same: too much ego to show that they were in distress.

"Well, that's how he lost a woman like me." No matter the exact nature of the impact your words had on him it did trigger something within his soul. On top of a literal ache in his heart, his wedding ring became suddenly heavier. In the dance's rhythmic embrace, your witchcraft went on with poisoning Luca's very core. Yet, as the enchantment unfolded, an unforeseen consequence took hold. The more you delved into your mystical powers, the more the mobster's pain echoed within your own body in an unexpected symbiosis. Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly.

The baby.

You backed up from Luca with a movement so quick it looked like you had touched hot-red metal, hence putting an abrupt end to the dance. A discreet growl fell from the man's lips for when the physical contact broke his heart resumed to a normal pace and the pain mysteriously disappeared. As well as yours.

"Enough fun for tonight." You said with hast, and Luca hadn't the quick thinking to keep you from doing so — the odd and unpredictable behavior of his heart was too concerning for him to carry on with this odd meeting.

"Hm. Yeah, don't forget about our deal." He replied, smoothing the fold of his tailored suit before slowly and discreetly pressing the left side of his chest with the palm of his hand.

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me." You spat one last taunt with the most polite smile you could make before turning your heels and leaving this damn room.

What the hell had just happened?

According to Tommy, everything went perfectly. Satisfied with the outcome of your mission — and genuinely surprised you hadn't fucked up everything by your rebellious attitude or just for the sheer satisfaction of getting under his skin —, the lead pack dog of the Peaky Blinders went on with the Vendetta. Actually, the one who fucked up the whole plan hadn't been you, but rather Tommy himself following the failure of his surprise attack against Luca. He might have killed a few Italians in the process, but his initial target was still alive and in very good health conditions. A flash of anger and frustration coursed through your body when he told the family about it: here you were back to the start, with Luca not willing to give you a second chance and being more enraged than he already was when he came to England. None of it would have happened if you had listened to your instincts and killed him yourself. Served you right for trusting Tommy's plan for once. And for being reluctant to use the monstrous magic nature gave you. But there had also been... Something else. That weird and unplanned pain in your belly when you had used your magic. With all of this, the cherry on the top was probably Tommy's decision to carry on with today's boxing fight despite it being an obviously awful idea but of course, no one listened to you. Why would they? Tommy always knew better. Tommy always won. Tommy this. Tommy that.

You sighed loudly as you walked through the empty corridor, the cacophony of the crowd turning into a hushed noise when you reached the huge squared mirror that was hanging from the wall. There were so many people gathered in the building that accessing the bathroom would have taken both your precious time and your thin tolerance to social events. That was why you decided to look for a mirror or a window further away to add a few late touches to your makeup as well as to rearrange your hair. You had just finished putting another layer of mascara on your Bambi lashes and grabbed your lip gloss when a gravelly and familiar voice resounded in the hallway.

“I went looking for you.” The voice made you instantly relax, its baritone lilt holding the unique power of blowing your troubles away, both the past and the present ones. With one small yet graceful spin, you turned around to meet Arthur’s slim silhouette that was standing in the doorway. His sharp face, usually displaying a strict look, soon turned soft at the sight of you about to apply gloss on your tantalizing lips, “I thought you’d be in here.”

"And you thought right." You replied with an enamored smile. Arthur was quite delighted by the boxing fight, so there was no need to impede his joy with your concerns. Moreover, he was surely the only thing that kept you anchored during this confusing and stressful period.

The gangster approached you with slow steps and his steel blue eyes shone brighter the more he closed the distance between you and him. “I knew it, always seeking quiet places before a party to doll you up and take a deep breath...” He concluded, visibly proud to display his infinite knowledge about his beloved wife, which made you melt. Then, he stopped right in front of you, "Got a lil' something for me angel." Arthur didn't leave you the time to wonder what it was all about for one of his large hands slipped from behind his back and pulled a white Azalea from it, “Look what I’ve found. Almost as beautiful as you, eh?” The way his face enlightened with the happiest and most genuine smile ever was something you never got bored of. Quite the contrary, it breathed life back into you each time. The ice of your eyes melted at such an endearing gift, turning your frozen traits into a child-like expression with your plump lips forming a silent ‘o’.

“For me? Really? Arthur, you shouldn't have!” You said with an excited but still quieter voice than his booming one. You couldn't believe he found the time to look for you in the middle of tonight's chaos.

"I wanted you to keep a little something with you in case you start panicking eh." He purred, low and gruff voice making his chest rumble. "Are you sure ya don't want me to stay with you?" You preyed the flower from his rough fingers delicately, actively trying not to break its fragile petals, and slipped it in your long silvery mane under your Arthur's tender gaze — he couldn’t help but smirk, enthralled by your beauty just like the first time he had met you, three years ago.

"We already talked about it. Go have fun alright? I'll stay with the women. Moreover, I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his." You lift yourself on your tip toes to press a kiss on Arthur's jaw. His eyes half-closed at the silky sensation of your lips against his face.

"A very clever move that is. D'ya like the flower? The florist helped me, bet she took pity on me 'cos I looked very lost but she just made me even more confused with all the info she was dumping ay."

A sincere chuckle escaped from your throat at the thought of the lanky and rude gangster standing in the middle of a flower shop with a confused look on his face. Yup, it definitely sounded like something Arthur would do. “So how did you choose the Azalea?” You pondered with innocent curiosity.

“Well, I don't know jackshit about that flower language stuff. I only know roses and you hate ‘em.” He admitted with a smile, cupping your face with his two hands to lay a peck on your nose. As trivial as this detail was he still remembered it and the mix of attention paired with the significance behind your loathing for roses made you swell with love for him. It came even more surprising considering that you only told him about your dislike for roses once during one of the nightly walks you took around the church days after your first encounter. "So I just picked the one that made me think about ya the most, love." He admitted, his hands leaving your face to grip you by the hips bluntly as he peppered you with kisses. Another chuckle fell from your mouth at the tickle of his mustache against your skin.

"No, no, you'll ruin my makeup!" You playfully exclaimed. Trying to flee from his mouth, you tilted your head to the side and gave his stubbled cheek a gentle bite.

“Hey! I bring ye a flower and you thank me with a bite? Ye feral little thing!”

You gave him a second one without waiting for him to finish his sentence, "You're the one to blame. You’re so cute I just want to nibble you.” You replied, completely obliterating the remote noise as well as all the concerns you have been mulling over these past few days. Instead of anxiety, you were now possessed by joy and cuteness aggression, “I swear you look stupidly handsome.” You added with a pout, the target of your small bites shifting from his cheek to his sharp jaw. Arthur hummed, his lips sewn shut in a peaceful smile — he didn't even bother to flee from your teeth, "Alright, go find Tommy before I tear your suit apart."

"Wouldn't mind that, little one." His voice became raspier with anticipation. It seemed like your suggestion had already planted the seed of desire in his mind, for he already started pawing at your body. Nevertheless, your hands caught his wrists to keep him from doing so.

"No, no, no. My makeup is perfect and my dress too expensive for you to ruin it now." You reminded him with a soft laugh.

"Fuck me." The gangster complained but still obliged, keeping his hands to himself. However, the light mood was soon eroded by the question he didn't dare to ask you earlier. Caught in the weight of his demand, his smile dropped a little, "Eeer... Before I leave" He paused, "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

"Hm?"

Arthur let out a long sigh and looked for something inside the pocket of his trousers all the while rambling, "That's a rare occasion tonight. I mean, a good boxing fight with the new Gold lad I coach and an upcoming party that might last all night long y'know. A really great program that is. Exhausting too." His fingers nervously fidgeted with something inside his pocket. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by tense shoulders and furrowed brows. Despite his efforts to appear composed, the strain was palpable, lingering in the air as he gathered all his courage. It was after a long hesitation that he finally took a tiny blue vial out and the simple view of it turned your joyful face into deadly ice again.

"Are you serious?" Your voice, a freezing breeze, cut through the air with a stern cadence, "Are you fucking serious, Arthur William Shelby Jr?" Your grip around the small lip gloss you were holding strengthened so much that the skin of your knuckles whitened.

"Hey, that's okay love." Arthur leaned in close. With gentle eyes that mirrored his sincerity, he spoke softly, trying to convey reassurance in each word as your anger simmered. "I didn't take any of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah. Told ya I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice." The gangster lowered his head just like a terrorizing but gentle mutt would do to show his submission, "I wanted to ask if ya allowed me to take some tonight? Ya told me I could if it remained occasional. Wasn't going to take it in your back, I swear." Wrapping yourself in threatening silence, you stood like a tempest in the quiet aftermath, your posture rigid with the echoes of anger. The storm in your eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a contemplative gaze that softened the hard expression of your seraphic face. As the storm clouds of your fury dispersed, a calm determination settled upon you instead. Arthur bit his lips, mustache twitching as he did so, for time seemed suspended as you collected your thoughts and tried to regain control over your fury. You breathed deep and slow while Arthur held his, awaiting your reply and wondering if your reaction would be born from the storm or from the calm eye at its center.

"Give." You said, your melodious and quiet voice breaking the silence, then you snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly looking to your left and then to your right to make sure no one could interrupt you, you first opened the lipgloss and proceeded to pour the white powder inside your makeup vial. Once this was done, you handed back the empty blue bottle to Arthur and mixed the cocaine with your lipgloss with the help of the small brush, "I have to admit that you're making a great deal of effort. Thank you for asking, I really... Appreciate it." The gangster stood silent and dumbstruck, wondering what the hell you could be doing. "And I did say you could take some snow occasionally." You brought the brush to your lips and carefully applied a great amount of the glistening liquid on your flesh. "So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God." You smooched your lips together and then smiled, a wicked and tantalizing smirk that sent a sudden wave of fever through his whole being. Arthur swallowed, his gaze fixed upon the enticing curve of your lips. In the stillness of the moment, desire stirred within him, a smoldering ember ignited by the mere sight of you mixed with the sinful words you just spoke. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the subtle movements of your mouth, each gesture a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

"I already do." He breathed with a low growl, his fervid passion turning his lean body into a shaky mess. With each passing second, the intensity of his longing grew, consuming him in a fiery embrace. His heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being yearned to bridge the distance between you, to taste the sweet and spice that lingered on your lips. With no more persuading needed, Arthur grabbed your face rough and let his mouth collide with yours, the kiss as brutal as a car crash. His scorching and rapid breath fanned over your skin as he licked your lips from the right corner to the left, the caress of his warm tongue making you moan against his wet flesh. Caught in the fire of desire — and definitely aroused by his carelessness— your trembling hands found rest upon his back, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jacket. An immediate wave of euphoria unfurled in his brain when the cocaine saturated his synapses. As needful moans raised in the corridor, Arthur couldn't tell if that was the drug or you that kickstarted his heart and dilated his pupils, but in any case, he was experiencing the most exquisite high he had ever had.

"Fuck." Arthur grunted with pleasure and gave several other licks until none of your gloss remained, then his tongue forced its way between your lips, not minding whether you had time to catch your breath or not because you were the real drug in the end. His deepest and most maddening addiction. "A fookin" Goddess you are hm."

"Arthur, Tommy's looking for—" Johnny Dog didn't finish his sentence, eyes wide open. " I just interrupted something right?" He finally blurted out, the initial shock of walking into such a steamy scene turning into the most annoying smile ever.

"Yeah, yeah Tommy. Alright." He repeated as he tried to break from the haziness. Arthur grunted, his lips still a few inches away from yours and your erratic breath melting together. Giving him one last peck —far more delicate than what you were doing one minute ago— you mouthed a silent "go" and forced yourself to resist the attraction of the invisible magnet that was inevitably pulling you towards the lanky criminal. "Alright!" Arthur roared when he turned back to you, clasping his hands together and walking to Johnny Dog with a carnivorous grin and dilated pupils. The Lee man slapped the eldest Shelby brother's back and, right before he go, shot you a little wink.

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

"Gonna wait a bit longer before getting your dick wet, boy."

"Shut the fuck up you fookin' cunt ay and let's watch the fight. I'm feeling bloodthirsty eh."

Three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and disgusting scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

"Arthur!"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses drowned in a deafening symphony of tinnitus, a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him, "Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream. A haunting and otherworldly scream which pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The tall Italian man twitching on the ground, choking in his own blood, should have been proud of his successful attack on the eldest Shelby brother. And yet, all he could do was stare at you horrified, his eyes reflecting the terror of his soul.

"D— Diàvulu..." He mouthed, as death came like the most wonderful relief, bringing his sinner soul far away from you, for even in Hell he'd feel safer.

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @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

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x oc #Paul Anderson #Heaven Shelby #Peaky blinders oc #John Shelby #Polly Gray #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta x Reader #Arthur SHelby imagine

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fkmylif3 · 9 months

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Paul Anderson as Arthur Shelby

Peaky Blinders (2013 – 2022)

#peaky blinders #arthur shelby #paul anderson #tvedit #tv gifs #just some random arthur gifs i made a while ago #pbedit

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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 1

NSFW Alphabet - Arthur Shelby

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's sweet but a bit oblivious. He will hold you sometimes or talk if you'd rather, but if you want anything special, you are probably gonna have to either ask specifically or get it yourself. He does always tell you how special you are and how much he cares for you after. Especially if he was rougher or had a really shit day, he'll spend time telling you how you make his life better and that he wouldn't know what to do without you. If he's rougher, he'll also check to make sure he didn't go too far either physically or verbally. He's always a little worried he will get too carried away, and he wants you to know that he would never ever hurt you. He generally pretty much down for the count, though now that you've made each other feel good, and you are okay with that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your lips. How soft they are and how perfect they look, but his favorite thing is all that you do with them. They allow you to talk him off a ledge when he's barely clinging to his sanity. They laugh at his stupid jokes and smile at him first thing in the morning. They whisper both loving and filthy things to him. They do the most sinful things when you kiss him and when you suck his cock. Basically he could lose himself completely in your lips and be totally happy about it.

You love his hands, even though and maybe even partly because he doesn't like them. He has told you that he feels like the devil controls his hands sometimes and that he has done such terrible things with them. You see hands that have worked hard to fight for and protect his country, his family, and everything else he has. You see hands that hold you tight whenever you are feeling low. You see hands that are gifted at drawing and hands that love to play with and hold Ada and John's kids. His long fingers that are so good at touching you exactly how you want and need. Where he sees the negatives of them, you see the positives.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His two favorite places to cum are in your mouth and in your cunt. He will cum on your face, tits, or pussy if you prefer but he honestly feels like its a bit of a waste. His cum is supposed to be inside you. If your sucking him off he wants to watch you swallow. There's an intimacy about watching you swallow his load, and while it's still not as good as cumming in your cunt, knowing that you love him enough to swallow his cum makes him love you more. If he had to pick one spot, he wants every drop of his cum in your pussy. He loves to sit back on his heels and watch it start to leak out of you afterward. If his breeding kink is keyed up he will definitely push any that has leaked out back into you. Telling you he's gonna keep that pretty little cunt stuffed full until he gives you a baby.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly, he's a big subby boy, but only for you. The first time you see this side of him is after a particularly frustrating day. He pretty much threw himself on the bed, trying not to give in to the demons in his mind telling him he just needed a little bump to make it better. He fought the craving, though, coming right home to you instead of finding some cocaine. You told him how proud you were of him, and he practically started purring. To test the waters, you then called him your good boy. Watching how his eyes clouded with lust at your praise. It led to you riding him as he was whimpering, saying he wanted to be a good boy just for you, only for you. Afterward, you ask him if maybe in the future, when he feels this way again, if he would want you to take care of him again. As he's falling asleep, he nods and whispers a sweet 'yes, please'. His old addictive habits will now get replaced by a new, much less destructive one.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Arthur is definitely experienced, but much of that experience was centered mostly on his own pleasure. That's not to say he didn't know how to please a woman, he just wasn't gonna swing for the fences if he was just with a whore. With you it's different. He wants to make your eyes roll back in your head every single time he touches you. It takes some fine tuning, but luckily you are happy to help guide him and tell him what feels good. He doesn't care how long it takes, he isn't going to stop until he makes you cum even if he already has.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If he's feeling more rough, Arthur likes to fuck you from behind. His hands on your hips or your shoulders, with you on all fours. Occasionally gripping and pulling your hair as he pounds into you. If he's feeling subby he wants you riding him. That way you are in control. You decide how hard or soft, how fast or slow you fuck him. If he's a really good boy you let him finish by grabbing you tightly to his chest, planting his feet on the bed, and wildly thrusting up into you. If he's feeling more romantic or loving he wants to fuck you in some variation of missionary. He wants to be able to kiss you and look in your eyes as his cock fills you. He wants to feel your legs wrapped tight around him as you're close to cumming. He wants to whisper against your lips 'that's it love. Cum for me. Eh.'

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If he's just the right amount of drunk, he can get goofy. Specifically, he will get really giggly, think school girl giggles, and it is downright adorable. He almost looks at you, lovesick, like he just can't believe his lucky stars that you are in bed with him. When he's sober, he can still be silly at times. Tickling you with his mustache to make you laugh or telling you little jokes. When he's really drunk, he's always deadly serious. That's usually also when he's roughest during sex. Lots of slurred dirty talk and asks to tell him who you belong to.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It's usually a bit wild down there. When he's struggling mentally, all that kind of stuff goes untended to. Then, when he starts feeling better, he will usually trim and clean up a bit extra for you. As long as he's feeling normal, he'll keep himself put together and more trimmed. He partly likes it because he thinks it makes his dick look a little bit bigger, and it's a little ego boost. He prefers you to be trimmed, but frankly, as long as you're willing to have sex with him, he isn't gonna complain.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with Arthur is actually rather intimate, even when he's rough and more animalistic. He is just more intense. All his emotions tend to run high, both the good ones and the bad ones. So even if he's not feeling romantic per-say, it is intimate. He will tell you how much he wants and needs you every time you have sex. Sometimes, he feels like he can't really breathe properly when you aren't around. How you make him a better man. When he's feeling romantic, all of his praise is only amplified. He will tell you he loves you over and over. His forehead will be pressed to yours, and afterwards, he will hang onto you like his life depends on it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to jerk off much more oftem than he does now. He used it as a form of stress relief when he got upset or overwhelmed. It was a healthier way of dealing with his emotions than by drinking, snorting coke, or fighting. Now if he jerks off its mainly because he can't stop thinking about you and you aren't around for him to fuck. Occasionally you will touch yourselves together mainly as a form of foreplay or sometimes as your 2nd round. Telling each other what you fantasize about. It started after you walked in on him in the tub one day. Instead of leaving, you came to sit next to the tub and told Arthur to keep going. He nearly came on the spot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Definitely has a praise kink. Both giving and receiving praise. He loves telling you exactly how much he loves you, how sexy you are, and how good you are for him. He also adores when you tell him how much you love him and even more when you tell him he's your good boy. He basically melts when you tell him all sorts of sweet things and shower affection on him.

He also has a bit of a breeding kink and a housewife kink. He sees you interact with John's kids, how good you are with them and how much they love you, and he can hardly wait to get you home to try and give you a little one of your own. He would spend all night filling you up over and over if you ask. He knows you would look absolutely incredible pregnant, and he would dote on your every need. His dream paradise would be a little house with you waiting for him to get home, looking perfect making dinner, with a whole slew of kids running around. It would be so normal, and that's what he ultimately wants. He's just not sure he's deserving of it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Arthur has a few favorite locations, but ultimately, if he wants you, he will find somewhere to have you. Wherever you are. The first place he loves to have sex with you is in your own shared bed. You are both relaxed and have all the time in the world to make each other feel good. Arthur really lets his guard down here, and it is truly one of your favorite things in the world.

His other favorite place is in his office. With you on his desk, either bent over it with him behind you or sitting on his desk with your legs around his waist, or with you riding him in his chair. You have definitely broken at least one chair this way, and Arthur was proud as punch about it. Laughing like an idiot when Tommy and John busted in the door after hearing the loud crash from his office, worried something had happened. Their guns immediately lower when they find you both on the floor, you on top of and straddling Arthur. Your face buried in Arthur's chest in embarrassment. John was practically on the floor himself with how hard he was laughing. Even Tommy gave himself a side stitch giggling.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His primary motivation is you. Especially when you are doing normal everyday things, like helping with the books or even just hanging out with his family. It's like you don't know how stunning you are and just how many guys you effortlessly make fall all over themselves. Even Tommy was taken by you at first until Arthur practically threw a tantrum, saying that he saw you first. The fact that you seemed to only have eyes for him just put him even more over the moon in love. Seeing you just going about your normal day when you start doing something like innocently biting your finger or swaying your hips side to side immediately makes him want to take you to bed.

He also uses sex with you to help escape all the bad parts of his life and his mind. He knows when he's in bed with you, behind the safety of the locked door, that he's safe and loved. He can seek his solace in your body, knowing it can cure all that ails him. Knowing that you will take care of him exactly as he needs you to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

First of all, there is not a chance in hell this man would ever even consider sharing you with anyone else. If another man so much as smiles at you for too long, Arthur will have steam coming from his ears. The thought of another man ever kissing or fucking you makes him pretty much homicidal.

Second is really letting himself explore any hard-core BDSM fantasies he has. The idea of some impact play interests him, but he doesn't dare go beyond a few hard spanks on your ass. He accidentally beat a boy to death, and he is secretly afraid that if he let himself start to really let go, he could lose control again. That's a risk he will never take with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

At the beginning of your relationship, he definitely prefers receiving to giving. He will never get tired of seeing you on your knees and telling you you're such a good girl for sucking his cock like a whore. His perfect little whore. However after he really falls for you he discovers he really loves going down on you too. Especially after you tell him how good his mustache feels teasing your cunt. Eventually one of his favorite things to do is have you ride his face. He's gotten addicted to your taste and adores how you shamelessly grind down against his mouth. Using his face to bring yourself pleasure. After a while he finds that it's actually a really good way for him to calm down when he's feeling overwhelmed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's usually faster and rough. Patience is not his strong suit, and he just gets so excited to be with you that he can't slow himself down. This is obviously beneficial during quickies, but when he actually gets the opportunity to take his time with you in bed, he does try to slow down. To take his time and give you the absolute most pleasure he can. He wants to show you how much he loves you and really make slow, sensual, passionate love to you. Once he makes you cum he feels better about letting himself go faster and frankly sex with Arthur wouldn't be the same if he didn't end up pounding you silly at least for a few minutes each session.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. Always, yes. Quickies are very much his thing. Especially at his desk in his office. Especially if he's having a rough day. It's a sure-fire way to put him in a better mood. Occasionally, the others in the betting shop will beg for you to go into his office and "distract him" if he's been on a real tear. Although John and Tommy both have a bad habit of walking in on the two of you. You're pretty sure they do it on purpose now. It still has never discouraged Arthur from even a single quickie on his desk, or I'm his chair.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's risky about some things but not others. He will fuck you basically anywhere he wants with no thought to who might walk in or overhear you. Any position you want and he's generally pretty willing to try new stuff if you ask, even though he himself is a pretty simple man. What he won't take risks with is your safety. If there's a chance you could get hurt it isn't happening. Whether that means making you stay home from a party when business might go wrong, or not indulging in some of his darker fantasies because he would never forgive himself if he actually hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Normally, he's good for one full round. Maybe two if he's feeling really good, but he's not a spring chicken. He's not gonna be going all night, but he will make sure to get you there. He will make you cum in one way or another. His preference being he gets you to cum at least once before or at the same time he does. He will also make sure to try and give you some extra attention if he knows he isn't feeling top of his game. Making you ride his face before he fucks you. He knows how hard that makes you cum and takes the pressure off of him if he doesn't last longer later.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Obviously, toys weren't a big thing then. In fact vibrators were only just being invented, and that was as a treatment for hysteria. If toys had been around, though, I do feel like Arthur is the kind of guy who wouldn't be into using them or a fan of them at all, really. He is a big ball of insecurity, and I think he would see a sex toy more as a threat than as an ally. He would feel like it was trying to replace him. If you had one, he would not want you to bring it into your bedroom time together and would probably resent it even being used for your solo time. Perhaps you could talk him into using it on you at some point, but it will not be a regular occurrence, and it would take a lot of begging. He may also "accidentally" break it at least a couple of times if he finds it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man barely has any self-restraint on a good day. He may want to tease you. To be all playful and get you all hot and bothered and needy for him, but he usually just ends up getting himself riled up in the process. You know better than to try to tease him either. Not unless you want to have him on top of you in less than five minutes, and your clothes may not make it out in one piece. You now carry several safety pins in your purse just in case he gets too carried away during an office quickie if you even wear a top with a lower neckline. Knowing so much as bending over his shoulder is sometimes enough to distract him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans and growls a lot. In general, the dirty talk starts during foreplay and by the end, he's just making incoherent noises. His dirty talk helps get both of you going, and he'll often start before he even gets you home. It will start with just telling you how pretty you are or how good you are to him. By the time you're walking home, he's whispering how he's getting hard already and how he's gonna have you naked before you even get to the bed. Once you are through the door, the real filth starts. Things like 'gonna fuck that pretty little cunt so good' and at the slightest moan he'll start verbally teasing you. "Oh yeah, love. You like the sound of that, eh? Want my cock nice and deep in you, don't ya?' By the time you are fucking his sentences are significantly shorter, 'fuckin' hell sweetheart. So fuckin' tight.'

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to role-play that you are a new barmaid hired to work at The Garrison or a dancer at the Eden Club, and you have to ingratiate yourself to him, you new boss, however he decides. This usually leads to you performing some sort of strip tease for him before he has you get on your knees. Sometimes, he wants to watch you touch yourself for him while thinking about him. If you can make yourself cum in the allotted amount of time then maybe you can keep your job. It always ends with him fucking you and saying that if you want to stay on good terms as his employee you have to let him use you however and whenever he wants. It's a role-play that you both quite enjoy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's fairly average. His length is a little bit over average, but his girth is normal. He feels so good that, frankly, you wouldn't have him any other way. He knows how to use what he has well, and it suits the rest of his body perfectly. He's got a few freckles on his shaft that match the ones peppered across his cheeks and shoulders. His tip flushes a dark pink when he's hard with a nice prominent ridge. He's uncircumcised. He has one nice thick vein that runs along the underside of his cock. You love to trace it with your tongue when you blow him and when he's close you can actually feel it throb.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As mentioned above, he's not exactly a spring chicken anymore, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you all the time. If it were up to him, he would have you in some way at least once every day. Even when he's trying to behave himself, you just do all these things that get his blood pumping and his heart racing. You make him feel like a teenager again. He constantly wants his hands on you in some way, shape, or form. Or he's pulling you into his lap and nuzzling into your shoulder. By default, most of the time, the family doesn't even bother giving you an actual chair to sit in unless it's at dinner. They know Arthur will just pull you out of it anyway to seat you in his lap. What he feels is your perfect place to be.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's generally pretty relaxed after sex and can drift off much more easily than a normal night. He's still a bit of a restless sleeper, though. You chalk that up to nightmares and memories of the war. He also occasionally talks in his sleep. According to Aunt Polly, Tommy used to talk in his sleep, too. Usually, it's mumbled, somewhat incoherent things, but you have had a couple of good long laughs at some of the things he's said. He has repeatedly asked you if you 'wanna fuck?' several times in his sleep. Including once when he followed it up with 'but I've been good today'. You teased him the next several days about whether he was gonna be good today and earn his fuck. He fucking loved it.

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