#peaky blinders finn shelby

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Finn ⇢ *- Taught To Please -* ⇠ Shelby ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) Finn Shelby x fem!reader

⇾ Summary: essentially a part two for ‘Better than any other man’ where the reader teaches Finn how to please a woman.

⇾ Warnings: NSFW, oral (Female receiving) fingering,

⇾ Part One

It was safe to say that when Finn Shelby saw his brothers the next day, they had a few things to say about the rather dark bruises on their younger brothers neck. While Arthur assumed it had something to do with the whore that had been hired for him, Thomas knew it was something else, something that his brother wasn’t ready to share with the rest of his family, so he decided not to crack on to the young boy about it.

Although over the course of the week, the rest of the family began to question what the youngest member of the Shelby family was doing when he’d disappear without a trace.

So, as Finn was leaving after a long day of work, Thomas pulled him aside and into his office. “What is it Tom?” The younger boy asked, sitting down in the chair at the desk as his brother pulled out a cigarette, passing one over.

“We’ve all noticed the hickeys. Aunt Pol says you don’t return back home most nights. If it’s whores then I hope you’re being careful.” Tommy said, getting straight to the point.

Finn gulped, putting the cigarette to his lips and inhaling the smoke. “It’s not.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s not whores.” He confirmed.

Thomas raised a brow, sitting across from Finn. “Then who is it?”

“My girlfriend.” Finn answered.

Thomas nodded his head. “Your girlfriend… and who is that.” He inquired, wanting to make sure that Finn wasn’t putting himself in a bad place.

“I don’t want her to be apart of our business, Tommy.” Finn said, sitting up straight, attempting to appear confident.

“Very well, but expect that we will find out eventually. I’ll let the others know that a whore will no longer be necessary.” Thomas dismissed Finn, letting him finally leave, although he wasn’t planning on returning home.

Like normal, Finn showed up at your house, looking to stay the night. “Tommy knows about us, we’ll not about you. But he knows I have a girlfriend. The others I think are suspicious about it too.” Finn said as sat down beside you in front of the fire, enjoying the heat that the flames gave off.

“I know you said you don’t want them to know about me for safety reasons, but I don’t mind if you do want to tell them about me. It’d be nice to actually go out with you instead of meeting up in secret.” You tell your boyfriend, hoping he was willing to give it some thought and allow the two of you to go on proper dates together.

You watched him as his facial expressions shifted, as if he was lost in thought. “I know you’d like to go out, but it’s not my family that I’m worried about. It’s the threats towards us. I’ve already lost a brother because of it, and I can’t risk losing you too.” It wasn’t the response that you were looking for, but it also wasn’t something you could be upset with, after all he was right. His job was dangerous, a constant threat to those he cared for, and you could understand his fear for allowing people to know there are others out there that he cares deeply for. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, placing a hand on your thigh and lightly caressing your exposed skin.

“S’alright, Finny. I understand.” You smiled up at him, resting your head on his shoulders. “Hopefully someday we’ll be able to show the whole world that we’re together.” You mumbled, staring into the fire.

“Hopefully.” He repeated.

His hand had subconsciously shifted up, unaware of the state it put you in as his caressing drew closer and closer to your lower region.

You hadn’t noticed at first, that was until you felt the tingling sensation going straight to your core.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You placed your hand on top of his, Finn thinking nothing of it until he felt you tug his hand further up your thigh. He glanced over at you, wondering what you were doing, when he noticed the hint of a smirk on your lips while you nudged him closer and closer. He didn’t say anything, opting for allowing you to do your thing while Finn silently observed.

When his hand disappeared beneath your skirt, and his fingers met your underwear, his breath hitched. “Y/n, what are you-”

He was cut off. “Remember when I said I would teach you about pleasuring me?” You asked, waiting for his nod of agreement. “Well… I was thinking we could do that today.” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

His eyes brows raised at your suggestion, head cocking to the side. “And what is it you want me to do?”

“You know what.” You replied, feeling a sudden warmth hit your face as you grew shy.

Finn, taking note of the change in demeanor, started to smirk. “No, actually. I’m not sure.” He teased, thumb softly rubbing as the skin of your thigh.

You let out a huff in defeat, “I want you to touch me,” you pouted. Finn said nothing more as he allowed for you to press his hand over your underwear, grinding into him, “please,” you begged, pulling your skirt up so he could see the positioning of his hand.

“Oh shit,” Finn cursed, watching as you pulled aside your underwear, “uhm- what do I do?” He asked, unsure of how to actually please a woman as that was never something that he brothers brought up.

“Just touch me,” you stated grabbing his hand, “right here,” his fingers came in contact with your clit sending a shockwave of electricity through your body, “and rub,” you added.

Slowly, he moved his finger around the small bud of your clit, watching the way that you physically reacted to the stimulation. “Faster!” You begged.

Finn picked up the pace.

His confidence grew alongside your moans, feeling encouraged by the sounds you made for him.

At one point, his fingers grew slippery from your wetness, causing his finger to accidentally slip into your hole, to which Finn pulled his hand away and apologized. “S’okay, Finny. Your meant to do that too…” once again you grabbed his hand, pushing all but one finger down and pushing it as your entrance.

His finger slipped into your wet hole with ease, feeling the warmth of your inside and wishing it was his dick instead.

He pumped his finger in and out, even as you grabbed his wrist and dug your nails into his skin. “Finn- I’m close!” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

You reached down to rub at your clit, letting your orgasm wash over you. Your legs shook as you attempted to keep them open, until your high ended and the sensitivity came, then you clamped your thighs around his arm, stopping him from moving any more.

“That seemed easy, I thought there was more to it,” Finn commented, pulling his hand away from your core, unsure what to do with the wetness on his fingers.

“There is more to it,” you replied, placing his finger into your mouth and sucking off the juices.

Finns eyes widened at your action, thinking of the very first time you gave him head, and then it hit him.

A smirk grew on his face as his eyes dropped down to your closed legs. His hands landed on your knees, shoving them apart to make room for himself.

You let out a squeak as he dragged you down the couch and closer towards him, this way you were laying down.

Finn got off the couch, kneeling down on the ground and hunching over so he could be eye level with your core, looking up at you to gather your reaction.

You ran a hand through his hair, nails softly dragging across his scalp, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, usually men don’t like doing it,” you told him, but Finn was adamant in returning the favor.

He lightly kissed your thigh, trailing them up until his nose was almost touching your pussy, when he used his fingers to spread you apart, taking notice of the cum that had dripped out.

Finn thought back to how you started off giving him head, how you licked from the base of his cock to the tip, and kept that in mind. His tongue darted out, touching your hole and tasting your cum, before flattening it and licking up to your clit, feeling the little pearl flutter beneath his touch.

The way you gasped has Finn thinking he did something right with licking at your clit, so he kept at it.

He sucked and licked, listening and paying attention to your reaction with every little thing he did.

He could never grow tired of the noises you made.

Your legs were closed around his head, but Finn didn’t mind, nor did he try and open them, he just kept his focus on pleasuring you, and pleasuring you was what he was doing.

The hand you had in his hair was tugging softly, your hips gyrating against his mouth, “oh- Finn! Feels so good…” you moaned.

Due to your sensitivity from the previous orgasm, it wasn’t long before your orgasm happened once more.

You came on his tongue with no warning other than the rather high pitched moans and harder tugs to his curls. “Shit!” You cried, body shaking.

You were breathing heavily as Finn pulled away from your core, a daze expression on his face matched with a bright smile, happy to have made you cum twice without having to use his cock.

“Should have told me to do that sooner,” he joked, sitting up and leaning over you, placing a kiss against your lips, “you taste nice,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

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

Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*

Y/N: Thanks, dad

Everyone: *stops talking and stares*

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

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

Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’

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

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

John: Hey! Show your father some respect!

Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!

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

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

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

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

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

Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-

Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you

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

Y/N:

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

[justrainandcoffee]

Saw this on Instagram. If I'm not wrong is a deleted scene of PB.

Yep. These are the four Shelby brothers.

Finn, John, Tommy and Arthur in that order. Look at them.

😂.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[swanimagines]

Hey! Could you write headcanons for Being the Peaky Blinders’ nurse? Thanks so much!

When you first got one of the Shelby’s to your little clinic, you were surprised instead of being afraid. 

The Shelbys weren’t exactly good people, but they were kind to those who lived in the area, helping them in exchange for not snitching on them.

So you didn’t think twice when you ushered them to lay the man on your table and started examining him.

It was John - bruises covering his body, him groaning in pain as you twisted and pressed around him to find any broken bones.

He had a nasty gash on his side and bruises, but nothing more serious.

So you disinfected his gash and wrapped it up, before you called out to his brothers to come and pick him up.

“A week of rest and lots of water helps a lot,” you instructed them. “But if he gets a fever, bring him back immediately.”

And that was that, they thanked you and left.

You thought it was the last time you’d see them, at least for a while – but then they kept coming back.

You didn’t really understand why, your little clinic at the corner of two backstreets, on the verge of bankruptcy, when they could afford going to one of the fancier places near where the injury happened.

Not that you complained of course, they paid you handsomely.

But to your surprise, those payments weren’t enough as a large company bought the building complex where you had your clinic, and you were forced to close it.

You wandered around Birmingham for a week or two, trying to make up a way to feed yourself and pay the rent for your flat.

And then…

Tommy Shelby himself appeared at your door.

“I have a proposition,” he started, handing you an envelope. “We have a free room at the Garrison, you could practice your clinic there. In exchange, you would take care of our gang.”

You eyed him for a moment before you peeked into the envelope. Hundreds of pounds laid there, enough to pay off months of rent in advance. You frowned.

“Why me?”

He was quiet for a moment. “You help without questions, are good at what you do and are currently struggling.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, fiddling with the envelope, before you nodded. “Let me get my suitcase.”

The room at the Garrison was bigger than you expected—not as big as at your clinic, but plenty of room to do whatever you needed. And you remembered occasionally thinking that you could get by with a smaller room.

So, you began your work.

The gang was your priority, but you were allowed to take other customers for extra coin.

Not that there were many, but you were content treating the gang only too - they paid you well, you had money to live comfortably.

Sometimes, they invited you to have a drink or two with them.

In case you fell sick, Polly and Ada took care of you.

Hot tea, warm blankets, soup.

They fell like they were your mother and sister those times, by how caring they were.

Eventually, you moved to live closer to Garrison, Tommy pitching in to help you with costlier rent.

Finn growing up meant he spent time at your clinic a lot. He got into trouble almost daily and came back with bruised or bleeding knees, and you were constantly patching him up.

And Arthur needed your help after he returned from fighting rings, or when he had wandered around and got into trouble while drunk.

You grew to be an important part of the gang, something you didn’t expect.

And they, in turn, grew to be important to you too.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S)

[aprill-99]

Assistant: “This whole criminal empire thing takes a lot more paperwork than I thought.”

Boss: “It’s called organized crime for a damn reason Sheryl.”

[anonymooseforever007]

I Know Him

(Platonic Alfie Solomons x step daughter reader) (Background Finn Shelby x Reader)

Summery: Alfie Solomons is in for a surprise one morning when his soon to be step daughter greets him with a hug. Which wasn't unusual in itself, but he never expected it to happen at Tommy Shelby's house... or while she was wearing Finn Shelby's clothes....

A/N: Hi Y'all! I don't think there are any TW's for this! I just wanted to write a fluffy and funny idea about Alfie realising his sweetheart's daughter is dating a Shelby and she's just absolutely oblivious to their past. Also as with all of my Finn stories both him and the reader are over 18. Enjoy! ❤️

WC- 4.0k

Main Masterlist

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He was dreaming.

Yes, that had to be it. She couldn't really be here could she? It wasn't really her was it? Smiling to him at seven in the morning at his friendliest enemy's house? In..... is that the little one's shirt?

He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation to it.

At least that's what Alfie Solomons told himself once he saw his sweetheart's daughter waving at him when he walked in the front hall of Tommy Shelby's house that morning. Not only was she waving, but she was practically jumping up and down in excitement when she saw him, eager to see the man who would be her stepfather one day.... 

"ALFIE!! Is that you!!! Hi!!! What are you doing here?! My mum said you had a trip this week!"

Bouncy Excitement? Speaking at sonic speeds? Criminal amounts of energy for this early in the morning? Almost falling face first on the floor in her rush to hug him?..... Yep. This was his Y/N.

Automatically, Alfie returned the hug, something he'd grown more than accustomed to doing with his fiancée's daughter. Especially when it had been a few weeks since he'd seen you. You were born when your parents were fifteen, and now twenty years later, you were in your second year at a university, halfway between London and Birmingham. Your father had tragically died during the war, and it had taken your mother almost a decade to start dating again. And if by a storybook miracle, she'd fallen helplessly for the single, "semi-retired", grumpiest neighbor in Margret, who often walked with a cane and whose only friend seemed to be his dog. Three years ago they'd met one day when Cryil had lost his collar and you had found him sitting pitifully under a tree....not even two gardens down from his home. But you hadn't know then, and believing the dog to have no family, took him back to your house. It wasn't hard either, as soon you held out your hand, Cyril was up, eagerly following his "new master" and it wasn't until the next day Alfie showed up, having heard the familiar barking. He'd been searching for Cyril all night, only to finally hear his yapping not even two doors down. Furious at the idea someone had kidnapped his best friend, Alfie had come over, knocking angrily on the door, with half a mind to take up his "old" profession. But when the door opened, instead of a grisly old bastard, Alfie was met with the closest thing to an angel he'd ever seen. It wasn't just her beauty, but her voice and the kind way she looked at him that captivated the man. And then when he looked inside the house he'd seen another young woman, laughing as Cyril attempted to sit on her lap in the small chair. And he wouldn't realise it until a few months later, but that would be a sight Alfie wanted to see every morning. A year later, he'd officially started going around with your mother, though the secret was well kept from any of his business associates. Alfie also saw the younger woman herself as his own child now too. He'd even taking to calling you "Shiny" after your sunny disposition. He wouldn't admit it, but Alfie definitely teared up, more than once, on the first day the couple dropped you off at your University. He also wouldn't admit how he'd never been more nervous than six months ago when he'd asked you for permission to propose. You had obviously said yes, but not before staring at him silently for six minutes with a gaze that could make any Shelby break into a sweat. Speaking of Shelbys ....

"Y/N why are you hugging Alfred Solomons?"

Alfie looked up at the stairs and saw not one, but at least four (and a half) different Shelby watching him from the stairs. Now he could have chosen to make fun of the mess that was Arthur's hair, but instead he focused on someone else. Because Arthur's hair may have look like a drunken bird's nest, but it was Finn Shelby who'd spoken.... And it was Finn Shelby wearing the matching pants to your shirt. So it was Finn Shelby who was currently in a lot more danger than he was five minutes ago. Truthfully, Alfie had only talked to the young man twice and hadn't been bothered by the quiet Shelby too much. In fact, he might even go as far to say the he favoured Finn the most because he'd talked to him the least. And the more the Shelbys talked to Alfie, the less he began to like them. But the sight before Alfie was enough to send Finn Shelby right to the top of the "excruciatingly painful death" hit list he promised your mother he'd "lost" long ago.

"FINN! Look! It's Alfie! I've told you about him haven't I?"

Finn himself was still half asleep, but he'd heard your surprised shout from the bedroom when you went to the bathroom and wanted to make sure you were alright. Only he thought he was still dreaming when he saw you embracing the man who had caused his family so much trouble before. Evidently, your excitement had been brought to more than one Shelby's attention and now he was standing with Arthur, Linda, Lizzie (holding Ruby), and John at the top of the stairs. All half awake and just as confused. Most of them were wondering if this was going to be another Grace situation.... But you hadn't noticed any of that yet. Hurrying up the stairs, you'd grabbed Finn's hand and brought the still tried younger man down to "meet" Alfie. Once the two men were situated in front of each other, you spoke the words that shocked both of them wide awake.

"Finn meet Alfie, my step dad. And Alfie meet Finn, my Boyfriend."

"STEP DAD?"

"BOYFRIEND!!!"

"Ahhh yes!! Isn't it great!! You two get to meet for the first time!! Ohh you'll love each other so much!!"

Oblivious to the shock of your companions, you bounced on the balls of your feet, eager for your favourite two men to finally meet. From the top of the stairs, John had rushed off to wake up Esme and Ada, while Linda was coaching Arthur through breathing again. Lizzie just sipped her tea silently as baby Ruby clapped at the drama. Finn stared at the floor, trying to process what he'd just heard. In the end, it was Alfie whose shock was broken first.

"No."

The bouncing stopped and it was your turn to look at Alfie confused.

"What do you mean no?"

"You're not dating him Shiny."

"Yes, I am." 

"No, you're not."

"Yes, Alfie I am." You said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"You're dating him?"

"Yes!"

"Did they kidnap you? Are they forcing you to say this?"

"No?"

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure I'm not kidnapped?"

"He asked you out and you agreed?"

"He took me for dinner and a movie!"

"You agreed to be with him?"

"Eagerly!"

"You and him?"

"Him and I!"

"Him?"

"Yes! Isn't he brilliant!"

Eagerly, you looked towards your boyfriend who looked offend by the fact Alfie didn't seem to believe you could ever have any interest in him. Sure, Finn occasionally questioned it himself multiple times a day, but still. Though you payed no attention to his annoyance and wrapped your arms around your love, happily hugging him to yourself. Then you turned around facing your soon to be step father again, with Finn's arms still wrapped comfortably around your waist as they had been when you'd woken up that morning.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why Ally? He's brilliant! He's nice and strong and respectful. He takes me on fun dates and he listens to me. He lets me hug and kiss him whenever I want and he's not afraid to tell me how he feels, though it did take a bit to get to that part! He lets me hold his hand and steal his shirts and he doesn't mind it when I ramble a lot. And there's a whole bunch more too but that's just the tip. I ran into him at a race with my friends one day and we just clicked. Isn't it great! He treats me exactly how you treat my mom and I think that's brilliant! Finn's brilliant!"

Alfie froze for a second thinking about his options. On one hand you obviously knew nothing about what the Shelby really did for work and must not have realised what you were getting yourself into. On the other hand, you were one of the smartest people Alfie knew, and if Finn really did treat you like Alfie treated your mother, you'd know about his past by the second date... And you'd chosen to accept that. Alfie didn't know which idea scared him more. But right now he could see something else. You were happy....Very happy. Genuinely happy, in the fact you looked at Finn the same way your mother looked at Alfie... Shit you were in love with him. You loved Finn Shelby. And despite the sleep deprived confusion over the boy's face, Alfie had noticed the little spark in Finn's eye that lit up then he'd seen you. Alfie had seen the way Finn had pulled you slightly closer when you'd spun in his arms. You loved Finn Shelby and it seemed he loved you too. Shit. So despite his general distaste for Shelbys, Alfie did the last thing he wanted to do....But he did it for you. Because just like did your mother he'd do anything to see you smile.

"Well then gingersnap. If you treat my girl that nicely... then I guess it's alright to meet you isn't it?"

Somewhat begrudgingly, Alfie stuck his arm out toward the younger man. Finn stared at the arm, hesitantly, as if the moment he touched it, Alfie would pull him on to a knife. And truth be told, if he'd known it wouldn't make you mad, Alfie may have done that. But seeing your beaming grin, made shaking hands worth it. The hidden wince on Finn's face as Alfie increased his grip also seemed to get the unspoken message threat across. One tear from you and every peace deal between the families would be off. And all types of retribution would be fair game.... if your mother didn't get rid of Finn first that was.

 And finally it seemed Finn had processed your earlier words. He had also noticed your eager face and wanted to proceed with caution, careful of crushing your spirits. Obviously you'd mistaken Alfie for your real stepdad? The man you told Finn about so much couldn't possibly be the one who'd thrown his oldest brother in jail and betrayed Tommy every other weekend? Ada and Esme had joined the "observation deck"(second floor balcony) now, and John had gotten his gun incase things went south. Tommy was still no where to be seen.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah Finny?"

"You said this is your step dad?"

"Yes.... well technically not for a few more months, but the wedding is soon and he's basically already it!" 

"Right...but Y/N? You said your step dad was a nice older man who lived by the sea? He's a bit grumpy, but really sweet and likes to make model boats?"

"Yeah he does! This is him! You'll get along great!"

It was Alfie's turn to look slightly offended now. He wasn't that old, and it also occurred to him that while he told your mother about his "past" job, Alfie had never actually explained it to you. You genuinely thought Alfie was a retired baker. Sure, every now and then he'd tell you he was heading to London to consult another friend who was still in business, but that was it. And since you weren't raised in the big city, you really had no knowledge about Alfie's old job. Suddenly, he was dreading the imminent conversation more than ever before. 

"This is him? Are you sure?"

"Yep! I think I know what the guy banging my mum looks like Finny. Not that I ever see it...ew... but you know, Cyril doesn't get locked out of the master bedroom for anything!"

It was a good thing Alfie still had his beard because it helped hide the slight reddening of his cheeks and ears then. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about repeatedly making love to such a magnificent women, it was one of his proudest achievements actually...... but there was something about the fact her daughter knew that made him want to hide... just a little bit. Finn's face also turned red at the mention of Alfie's physical love life.

"Alright love, I believe ya. Just no more about his bedside manner alright? I don't wanna picture that."

"And I don't think I want you picturing it witchy."

"Finally!!," you cheered, clapping your hands quietly, happy both men finally seemed to understand what was going on. But then it brought you to your next question.

"Alfie?.... Why are you here though?.... oh please don't tell me my mum sent you to pick me up?"

"What no, your mum wouldn't do that...wait she knows you're here? What's she got to say about the lanky carrot top here? And how long has this been going on?" Alfie used his fingers to point between your shirt and Finn's pants, indicating what specifically the last sentence meant. Slightly tired of all the questioning you sighed. 

"I called her last night to tell her. It was too late to go back to my apartment and Finn said I could stay here. His brothers were fine with it too....ohh have you met them? I think you'd like Arthur! He likes boxing too, ya know!....but she knows. Also don't call him the lanky carrot top, that's mean. And it's been going on for almost a year now. Not the sleepovers, but the dating bit. We met right before summer break and you know....kept meeting up."

"A fucking year! Hell Shiny, when were you gonna tell us?" Alfie was shocked once again. You'd been dating Finn a whole year and hadn't mentioned it? A small part of him was hurt too, that you hadn't told him yet. He vividly remembered only a couple years ago, when you'd barge into his house looking for Cyril and just start telling him all about your day. Finn stood by just watching the observation, rubbing his red hair self consciously. It wasn't even that red, was it?

"ALMOST a year, and to be fair we hadn't make it official until a few months ago. I just didn't mention it because I wasn't sure if he was really into me or not....But he was, which is great! And I actually told my mom last month and she said I could bring Finn over next weekend maybe to meet him. She was suppose to tell you.... OHH WAIT! I have an idea!"

You were bouncing again, pleased with your new plan. Your mum said you could invite Finn to the house next week, and even though from your calls she seemed to like him, you knew she wasn't just gonna let him slide right into your bed....figuratively speaking. You were her only child and knew she wanted to make sure you were being treated right, so you figured she'd be a bit hard on him at first. When speaking on the phone last week, you'd also overheard her asking Alfie if he'd mind coming over early that day. You knew she wanted him around for a bit more intimidation. The big, dark, grisly figure standing in the shadows, while she interrogated Finn about his intentions. But maybe this unexpected meeting could work in your favour.

"This is great!! Since you and Finn have just met, and you seem to get along great, you can help me show him off to my mum next week! You can vouch that's he's as good as he looks!"

Alfie just stared at you.

There wasn't a single world in which he wanted to positively vouch for any Shelby. Especially one who apparently thought it was acceptable to get within ten feet of you..... without a shirt too. But then again, you had this slightly infuriating way of looking at Alfie. One smile and he was suddenly letting you paint fucking flowers on his fence to brighten the front yard or blowing up who knows what in his backyard. He really did give you too much power sometimes...

"You want me to vouch for him!"

"Yes, I mean you don't have anything against him do you?"

"Fucking actually..."

"What the hell is going on?"

Finally, Tommy showed up, his boots slightly dirty from the barn outside. He'd woken up early to check on the pregnant mare. Only he came back inside to find almost his entire family staying in the front hall, in their pyjamas, along with Y/N and Alfie. The latter of whom he didn't realise was up. If he'd known Alfie was awake, Tommy would have skipped the horse today. If only to insure Alfie didn't go rummaging around. On top of that, Alfie was shooting Finn a glare, hard enough to make Tommy shiver, not that he showed it. What his youngest brother had done to deserve that baffled him, but Tommy had some idea it had to do with the young woman grinning ear to ear.

"Well?"

"Oh! Morning Tommy! Have you met Alfie? He's my stepdad!"

Tommy's nose wrinkled slightly and his lips drew into a thin line. But his eyes went wide and his brows furrowed in confusion. That was probably the last thing he'd expected to hear that morning.

"What?"

This time it was John who spoke up from the top of the stairs, eager to see more drama.

"Yep Tom! This one here is the spawn of Alfie's soon to be missus! Isn't that something?"

Tommy looked at you, and then Alfie, and then you again, then Finn, and finally back to you. Not because he didn't like you, but because he remembered the past, Tommy glared at you lightly.

"Are you a fucking spy? Because I won't have you going around with Finn if you're going to be sharing everything to Alfie here. And you better tell the fucking truth."

Surprised and slightly scared by his change in tone, you took a step back. Despite his reputation, Tommy had always been nice to you, if not a bit reserved like he was with most people. So hearing his "boss" voice was a bit jarring. Annoyed by his tone towards you, Finn and Alfie both stepped forward, glaring at the man who had spoken. You stared in confusion at Tommy for a second, before shrugging and laughing like he'd told a joke.

"Spy? I'm not a spy. What are you talking about Tommy? That's a funny joke though. Y/N the spy.... na I'm a terrible liar. Can't keep a straight face for the life of me. But why would I spy on you for Alfie? He's got nothing to do with the races or any shipping company like you run. It wouldn't make sense for me to share all your plans with him."

Behind you, both Alfie and Finn were drawing lines across their necks with a hand. The universal symbol for "don't say a fucking thing, change the subject", but it may have already been too late. You had glanced behind yourself to see if Finn had liked your joke and noticed the cutting motions of the two men. Suddenly your eyes widened, and you started looking between Alfie and Tommy, and then Alfie and the rest of the Shelbys. It was like a light flipped in your head and internally, Alfie winced at what might occur. But once again you surprised all of them.

"Wait! Are y'all working together!!.... Oh y'all do know each other! Alfie why didn't you just stay that in the first place? I wouldn't have made you shake Finn's hand again. That's why you're here isn't it? Y'all have business together? Are ya partners?"

Alfie cleared his throat and prepared to tell you the inevitable. Sure, he knew he should tell you he was a semi retired gangster, but he was slightly worried when you learned, you wouldn't look at him the same way anymore. He was afraid you'd be a bit scared of him, and for all intents and purposes, Alfie didn't want his kid to be scared of him.

"Well, Shiny... yes we are working together. You see..."

"OHH I KNEW IT! Are you gonna start selling bread at the races? I think that would be a great idea!! Like alcohol is great, but it would be so nice to have a muffin or something too.... OH OH OH ... I know! Alfie you should sell your sugar rolls! Finn you have to try them they're so good....Alfie has this special apron he wears when making them."

Alfie groaned at the mention of the pink apron your mother had gotten him last holiday. You really were just revealing all his secrets weren't you? And he couldn't even wack you over the head like he'd do with anyone else.... Finn process your words and then stared grinning as big as you were. He loved it when you started to go off on a tangent. After all it was a brilliant idea too. Finn always got hungry during the races. He was always hungry in general, but the anticipation of what horse would win made him hungrier than usual.

"That is a good idea! I get hungry at those and they never have any snacks. Why don't we do that Tom?"

Tommy just furrowed his brows again, completely lost to what was going on. That was one thing he realised when he first met you. See Finn, when given the chance to speak, could jump from topic to topic within minutes and never seemed to go on a straight path. You did the exact same thing....but much much more. And while it was amusing to watch at times, it could get dizzying when you and your boyfriend went round and round in circles. And if they didn't stop it quick, this would be one of those times.... It was too early in the morning for that. So Tommy interrupted. 

"Yes! That's exactly what we're doing. That's why he's here. To make plans to sell bread at the races."

It was a lie of course, but even Tommy could respect Alfie's wish to tell you on his own time. Besides, it wasn't actually a bad idea. Alfie nodded his head in agreement like they hadn't planned on robbing a train last night. 

"Yep Shiny, you got us. I remembered you mentioning it once, and thought why not see if I could pitch the idea. Didn't know you'd be here though. Kinda ruins the surprise so just promise to act like you didn't know. Be as sightful as my half blind eye yeah?"

Laughing, your rolled your eyes at your stepfather's joke, before yawning into Finn's chest. The early morning hour was starting to get to you again. You really had only come to use the bathroom before noticing Alfie. Now you just wanted to get back in the warm bed for a bit longer.

"Deal, alright. I can keep my lips shut. But only if you also add the knot shaped chocolate pastries to the menu too! Those are my favourite."

Finn's stomach interrupted the conversation causing the both of you to laugh. Even the mention of food was enough to bring his appetite back. Turning to your boyfriend you hugged him again, revelling in the warmth you loved to burrow into. Standing on your toes, you reached up to whisper in his ear and he smiled softly before nodding back. You turned to the rest of the room and addressed Tommy.

"Welp this was nice, but can we go raid your pantry please? It's been at least seven hours since this one's eaten, so soon he'll start to shrivel up."

Good-naturedly, Tommy rolled his eyes, he knew it was Finn sneaking around the kitchen only three hours ago. He was the only one who closed up the bags of food he stole from by placing another bag over the messily folded edges when he couldn't get a knot tied in the dark again. Finn was also the only one who made peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, leaving the dirty knife and plate in the sink for the next morning.

"That's fine, you two can go off, Alfie and I here have to finish a few details for the deal."

Giving Alfie another quick hug, you and Finn headed off leaving the rest of the company in the main hall. His arm was around your shoulder and they could see you laughing at something Finn whispered in your ear. Alfie watched for a moment. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. At least you hadn't stated dating Sabini's nephew.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the top of the stairs Arthur leaned over to John.

"Does this mean we can't slash his tires anymore?"

".....Eh probably."

"Fuck, was looking forward to that."

[rysko]

This, but as Peaky Blinders

did this instead of going to sleep, bon apetit

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Peaky ⇢ *- Giving Them Head -* ⇠ Blinders ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) multiple characters x reader

⇾ Summary: Peaky blinders characters reaction to you giving them head.

⇾ Warnings: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving) rough (head shoving, hip thrusting) use of pet names, semi public, exhibition? Degrading words.

Aberama Gold:

⇾ Aberama felt the need to be sweet and gentle with your pretty young mouth.

⇾ He’d guide you along with soft words of encouragement, letting you know what you should do.

⇾ “There you go, my love…” or “your doing so good f’me.”

⇾ He’d be relaxed against the chair or bed he was sitting on, arms out behind him as he watched you through hooded eyes.

⇾ His eyes would never stray away from you face.

⇾ Aberama loved the way you looked giving him head, he liked watching as your eyes either watered after so long, or fluttered closed in order to not distract yourself.

⇾ Besides from speaking, I can’t imagine him being very vocal, other than letting out quiet grunts that would edge you along.

⇾ You would make it your mission to try and get a moan or at least a groan from him, but it was proven to be very difficult.

-

It wasnt often that you and Aberama got to have privacy, but when you did you made sure to enjoy the time and make it worth while.

As soon as you both got time alone, you immediately dropped to your knees after pushing him down into the chair in your shared caravan and before you knew it, your lips were wrapped around his length.

He watched lovingly as your head bobbed up and down on his cock, enjoying the way you took your time in order to draw out his orgasm.

Aberama would let his eyes shut briefly before opening them again once he realized so he could focus on on your face. He watched as your eyes squinted the more you took him into your mouth. “S’alright, love. Don’t have to go all the way.” He would breath out, brushing away a strand of hair that fell before your eyes, covering your expression from his watchful gaze.

“Feels so good.” He’d rest his hand on your cheek, caressing lightly as you continued.

Once he’d cum, he’d help you up to your feet, letting you sit down in the chair. “Take care of me so well, don’t ya?”

Ada Shelby:

⇾ At first she would be shy, biting her lip to contain her moans, nervous to have her legs spread for you, covering her face whenever she’d be embarrassed.

⇾ After the first couple of times of giving her head, she would begin to open up to you literally…

⇾ Ada would be more open to trying things with you until she learns how much she enjoys your head in her thighs with her hands in your hair.

⇾ She constantly would be tugging and pulling at your hair to guide you in the position she wants you in.

⇾ There is no such thing as teasing Ada Shelby.

⇾ Her sweet moans would fill the room, encouraging you to do more with your mouth and tongue.

⇾ You’d swirl your tongue around her little bud which would send a string of moans to exit her lips while she would grind against your mouth.

-

“Y/n!” Your tongue flicked her clit repetitively before returning to her hole. Slurping sounds could be heard from down below as you sucked on her pussy, encouraging her orgasm the more you continued.

Your hands found her stomach as she arched off the bed, holding her down. Once you were certain she wouldn’t lift her hips again, your hand would trail up her stomach to her chest, squeezing gently at her tits before pinching her nipples, causing higher pitched moans to fall out of her mouth.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her reactions making her tug roughly at your hair, this time earning a moan in response from you at the feeling of roughness from the girl beneath you.

“I’m…” she trailed off, eyes rolling back as she breathed heavily, “I’m close, love.” She would moan.

This time, you allowed for her to grind herself against your mouth, letting Ada use you to get herself off.

Her hips would stutter as an orgasm washed over you until she rode out her high and was breathless against the bed.

Arthur Shelby:

⇾ Arthur was notorious for being very rough in bed, and you’d expect nothing less when it came to giving him head.

⇾ Depending on how experienced you were, he’d be nice at first (not shoving your head, not thrusting his hips)

⇾ But once he was certain that you were used to sucking his cock, was when Arthur Shelby would truly come out.

⇾ Arthur would be relentless with the way he’d fuck himself with your mouth, practically using you as a warm hole to satisfy his needs.

⇾ Obsessed with making you gag.

⇾ He’d even enjoy the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his length.

⇾ Not afraid to make noises, especially when it came to grunting. He had nothing to be ashamed of, after all it wasn’t him that was being fucked.

⇾ If he wasn’t using his hips (if he was sitting down) he’d guide you by your head, holding you down and making you take everything.

⇾ If you weren’t swallowing his cum afterwards, than you were doing something wrong.

-

You were struggling to breathe through your nose as you were held all the way down until he was balls deep in your mouth.

Sounds of gagging could be heard as you were forced to choke around his cock. “Keep going love, fuck me.”

Once he finally loosened his hold, you would pull yourself of his dick, breathing heavily as you used your hand to get him off while you recovered.

He’d smile down at you, loving the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Arthur would groan.

You would sit on your knees, mouth wide opened as Arthur finished himself off, waiting expectantly.

And as his cum hits your tongue, you would immediately swallow it whole, knowing that if you didn’t then it would be a long day for everyone.

Bonnie Gold:

⇾ Bonnie is a mixture, he gives me very soft dom vibes. Like he could be rough, but in a gentle way.

⇾ He’s not shy about what he wants and after your comfortable in the relationship than he won’t be afraid to ask certain things from you, so long as their within your boundaries.

⇾ While Bonnie is (in my head) a giver more than a receiver, he does thoroughly enjoy the times you give him head.

⇾ He doesn’t expect you to take all of him, nor does he push your head down, but he will rest a hand in your hair, simply just holding it there for comfort.

⇾ He is a man that loves to have his balls fondled with, so if you give him head while you softly massage his balls then he might just burst within mere seconds of you touching him.

⇾ Ensures that your having a good time as well, 69….

⇾ Doesn’t expect you to swallow his cum… unless of course you want to.

⇾ Bonnie is definitely a vocal guy, not afraid to praise you and not afraid to be loud depending on who could potentially be around.

⇾ If his family’s around then he will try to be quiet for your sake, but if it’s other Peaky Blinders than he tends to be louder, for his sake in order to let everyone know what they’re missing out on.

-

You couldn’t help yourself after watching Bonnie once again win another boxing fight with ease, he was just too hot for you to handle.

As soon as he entered the changing rooms you had practically jumped in, smothering him in kisses before helping him clean up any wounds or blood before getting straight to business.

This time he didn’t bother trying to stop you like he normally would, as a matter of fact, he watched with excitement as you dropped to your knees and pulled out his length, immediately placing it in your mouth.

You hummed around his cock as he called out your name, feeling a sense of pride wash over from his reaction.

“You’re perfect…” he slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming pleasure.

He had his hands fisted by his sides before eventually they crept up to your head as he held your hair back and out of the way for you. “Love you.” He groaned, stuttering in the slightest as your hands met his balls.

His hips jerked unintentionally and a string of ‘sorrys’ could be heard from the moaning man. “I’m gonna cum, love.”

He wasn’t able to protest to you allowing for him to cum in your mouth as he was hit with his orgasm, body tensing at the feeling rushing through him.

Finn Shelby:

⇾ My shy boy.

⇾ He’d like to pretend he knows exactly what’s going to happen and that he’s tough like his brothers to not be seen as weak (for example moaning etc)

⇾ But the second your tongue touches his tip, Finn is a wreck.

⇾ Definitely cums in mere seconds the first time, but he’d learn eventually.

⇾ Doesn’t like being rough with you, despite his brothers encouraging him to be as rough as possible, he likes knowing your having a good time as well.

⇾ Will always give you head in return.

⇾ A bit ashamed of being very vocal, tries to keep it to minimal groans, not often moans and a lot of suppressed grunts.

⇾ Doesn’t say much other than your name and ‘fuck’ when he groans.

⇾ Likes to cum on your face rather than directly in your mouth.

-

Finn was on his last straws as he attempted to draw his orgasm out, he didn’t want to cum to quick like the last time.

His bottom lip was between his teeth, his back was pressed against the bed as he avoided watching you go to work on his cock, knowing he would burst as soon as he opened his eyes to look at you.

He hissed as he felt your nails dig into his thighs as you pushed yourself further down his length, the sounds of you choking around him being his final straw.

Finn sat up with haste, shoving your head off of him right as his cum started to trickle out.

He jerked himself off over your face, eyes locked on the way you opened up wide for him, tongue waiting patiently for his seed.

“Fuck…” he groaned, squeezing out the last drop.

He breathed heavily as he laid back down on the bed, chest rising up and down. “Your turn now.” He smirked, watching as you laid beside him.

And just like that, he was up and ready to go again.

Isaiah Jesus:

⇾ An absolute whore of a man, but I love him so it’s okay.

⇾ Has high expectations for what he wants and what you should do for him.

⇾ A man of teasing.

⇾ Will happily deny himself of pleasure if it mean my teasing you with his cock.

⇾ Likes to embarrass you and will make you beg to suck him off. “What do ya’ say, sweetheart?” Or “beg for it.”

⇾ Not a head pusher but a hip thruster on occasion, but most the time he likes to just leave you to do all the work.

⇾ Isaiah definitely brags about your skills to his mates, wants everyone to know what they’re missing out on.

⇾ Tells other women that offer themselves to him that they can’t suck his cock as well as his partner can.

⇾ Teases you about it in front of his friends and is definitely into having you suck him off in a relatively public area.

-

“Please, Isaiah,” you begged, lips pouting as you stared at his cock that he held in the grasp of his hand, shaking it and teasing it in front of your face. “I’ll be good,” you told him, reaching a hand up only for him to smack it away.

“Can’t hear ya’, love. Try again,” he smirked, watching you with amusement in his eyes as your pleading.

The whine that escaped your lips had him tapping the tip of his cock on your lips, tongue darting out to taste the tiny bit of precum that stayed on your bottom lips.

“Please, Isaiah,” you tried again, “I want your cock…” you trailed, mouth watering at the sight of his veiny dick being teased in front of your eyes.

“Alright, open up,” your mouth opened immediately, eyes closing as you awaited the warm pressure to hit your tongue, to which you immediately moaned at the feeling. “There ya’ go…” he hissed as your mouth closed around his dick.

Isaiah groaned as he felt the vibrations through his cock from you moaning around him, enjoying the feeling and taste on your tongue. “Such a little whore for my cock, aren’t ya’?”

John Shelby:

⇾ Like Isaiah, he is very cocky and likes to hear you beg for his dick, gives him a little power trip every time.

⇾ Wont move at all, likes to make you do all the work so he can watch you desperately trying to get him off.

⇾ Sits back, hands behind his head and relaxes while you do all the work for him.

⇾ Expects you to suck him off whenever he’s horny, especially if you’re out in public.

⇾ Will pull you to a private area and expect you to get on your knees for him.

⇾ “Come on, on your knees.”

⇾ Will watch you with a smug smirk on his face.

⇾ Expects you to look at him when you suck him off.

-

Your knees pressed harshly on the stone cold floor of the Garrison bathroom, your hands were placed on John’s thighs as you took him down your throat, head bobbing back and forth.

“Look so pretty f’me. Cock shoved down your throat.” John cooed, smirking down at you as he teased you. “You can take a little more, can’t ya’?”

You nodded your head to the best of your ability, humming around his length as you pushed him further in. “There you go.”

You knew he wouldn’t move, he much preferred letting you do all the work while he laid back and relaxed, but you still couldn’t help placing your hands on his thighs in a way of holding him back.

You kept moving your head, taking his dick in your mouth, feeling the warmth of him weighing down on his tongue. He was getting closer, you knew he was based off the way he grew restless.

You paused as his release came, and it was then that he held your head down, keeping you as close as possible as he shot his load down your throat.

Michael Gray:

⇾ doesn’t often want a bj, most of the time he just wants to fuck and prefers to do so, nothing to do with your skills, just a personal preference of his.

⇾ But when he does, depending on what kind of work day it is, he makes sure your entirely comfortable, won’t push your head down, won’t move his hips.

⇾ But if it’s one of those stressful days where it seems everything’s against him, best believe he will take out his stress on you.

⇾ If you tease him or do something to annoy him, best believe he will give you attitude back, and if you ask him then he will call you names.

⇾ Is a people pleaser so he will do whatever you want him to do, even if it requires being a bit mean to you.

-

It started off slow and passionate, you had been taking his length in your mouth, enjoying yourself as you sucked him off, but you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit bored, as Michael had seemed distracted.

You did what you had to do, gave him a bit of lip before Michael was returning back the same attitude, using his ‘boss’ tone on you.

“Go on then, you want me to cum? Then fucking make me cum.” He growled, tapping the tip of his dick against your bottom lip as you whined. “S’all your good for.” He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t, but boy did it turn you on.

You placed him back into your mouth, this time feeling a lot more enthusiastic, moving at a quicker pace. “Much better, eh? Don’t have to listen to you speak now.”

Thomas Shelby:

⇾ not nice at all, never nice.

⇾ Will force his cock down your throat, and won’t feel bad about it.

⇾ Like Arthur, he is obsessed with hearing you gag around his size, doesn’t think it’s good unless he hears you.

⇾ Would sit at his desk doing work while you suck him off, or if he’s having a meeting with someone over the phone.

⇾ The only time he won’t forced your head down is if you’re sucking him off under the table with one of his business partners sat opposite him.

⇾ Likes to watch you squirm so he will speak of you in front of his family or just other people in general with absolutely no shame.

-

You moved slowly, bobbing your head at a rate where you wouldn’t be choking around his size. Tommy was having a meeting with some man about business, but even that couldn’t stop him from denying his needs.

He ordered you to his office and demanded you sat under his desk while he conducted business with the stranger.

You lifted your head up, prepared to give yourself a breather while you stroked him up, but all of a sudden, Tommy had shoved your head down, clearing his throat and making some noise in order to cover the sound of you gagging. “You can have 5% and I’ll give you a bottle of my whiskey.”

You could hardly hear the response of the man over the sound of your own gargling, but you knew he wouldn’t be happy with deal. Tommy let your head move, but ensured that your lips stayed wrapped around his cock. You paused your movement, using this time to breath through your nose whilst your hand fondled with his balls.

Suddenly you were let up for air, breathing heavily, when Tommy slid out from his desk. “Come on, out you get.” He moved out of your way. “When I come back, I want you bent over this desk.”

[kaivenom]

How the Peaky Blinders' boys dance with you

Masterlist

(All of the dances mentioned are real popular dances from the 20's, there are videos from youtube with original records if you want to check how they are)

Tommy Shelby

He doesn't ussually dance, he prefers to see you dancing and be on the corner of the room, just observing totally stunned.

The only time when he dances with you is when he needs to move around the place without raising suspicions or when you insist on it and later make him feel bad about leaving you on the dance floor.

His favourite thing to dance with you and probably the only thing is Fox-trot.

He always demands the band to change to jazz so you both could dance to the smooth and graceful rythm.

He dances slow and always looking everyone, checking that nobody does anything stupid while he is enjoying time with his partner, so everytime you need to remind him to look at you.

You can almost confirm he likes the music by the way his body swings next to yours, his fingers conecting with yours while his other hand travel firmly to your back.

John Shelby

He is a natural party person, he likes to be around and drink with everyone, but mostly he likes to dance.

And what better partner to dance that his partner itself, he always drags you to the dance floor for hours.

With all that energy and craziness his perfect dance for you both is Charleston, obviously.

The movements he does are the perfect definition of the dance, exuberant and wild.

You sometimes have trouble keeping his pace but it's always fun... and exhausting.

When he sense you are starting to feel tired, he goes to get a drink or accompanies you to take some air.

But don't be fooled, he probably drags you to the dance floor again later, at least he tries to dance things more slow.

You probably need another day without the kids to recover from the dance night.

Arthur Shelby

He is not good at dancing, he doesn't have sense of rythm so you both can't dance anything classified.

So, you go to simple dances like the Shimmy, with that you reassure him that he won't fool himself in front of other, which means a lot to him.

So, the Shimmy became your safe choice and make him want to go with you to dance.

When he tries new dance moves, everyone thinks that he is making new charleston move or that he is is drunk, usually the second one.

But at the end maybe it's not all dancing but it's surely very funny.

Michael Gray

He likes to make a show, he likes to show you off to everyone who has eyes.

Making it sensual and provocative is his passion so Tango is a must everytime you go out.

His body pressing against yours, his hands traveling to places very innapropiate to the society.

He always tells you to show your attributes to the him, which means the room, and that means to do move your legs and entangle it around him.

He also uses the dancing to assert dominance towards you and some times make you desire him.

Finn Shelby

He isn't very good at dancing but obviously not as bad as his older brother.

When the charleston stopped being trendy, he discovered the Black Bottom, just a little before everyone does.

So, when he starts dancing it in the pubs you were amazed, it was the perfect dance to hide his disorganized moves, but you were incredible stunned by it and rapidly asked him to show you.

In a couple of night out you both were the star couple of dancing but the dance was still new and nobody else did it.

A couple of months later and the Black Bottom was a trend, not thanks to both of you but now you don't need to ask for the music ... cause it's already playing whan you enter the pub.

It's funny and stimulating, probably because of both of you being really clumsy while moving.

[warnersister]

Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder - Finn Shelby x Reader

Finn Shelby x Reader

Finn’s seen his brother’s wives comfort them when they have PTSD, can’t he tell a little white lie and get the same treatment?

Finn stood in the doorway to your bedroom, pondering his current decisions. He’d seen his brothers do this with their wives and partners, perhaps he could try with you. They’d go to their other halves, trembling and drenched in sweat; crying as they plead for comfort as night terrors of the war had haunted them iteratively.

You were all currently staying in Shelby Manor, the home playing homage for a hotel while a close family friend’s wedding took place the day prior. Since working at the Garrison you’d become a close friend of the Peaky Blinder’s and quite the eye-catcher of a particularly young Shelby. So Tommy didn’t think twice before inviting you and Harry along - after all, you’d be family once Finn grew some balls and actually asked you out.

“Finn?” Shit, too late to back out now. He took a deep breath before putting his acting skills to the test. “Are you okay, it’s-” he saw your shadowed figure move to look at your small wrist watch on the bedside table “two in the morning.” You spoke, groggily. Just do it. He sniffed, thinking of his mother to try to build tears in his eyes.

You noticed his ‘upset’ and sat up quickly, the confused look in your eyes softening to concern. Finn wiped the wetness under his eyes with shaky hands. “Finn, what’s wrong?” You ask, voice laced with worry. He opened his mouth, bottom lip quivering. “I-it’s stupid.” He whispered between forced breaths. “It’s not stupid if it’s upsetting you, please tell me what happened” you encourage.

He steps away from the doorway and into the room slightly, comforting himself by rubbing his right arm with his left. “Well,” he stuttered “well I had this dream, right?” You nodded “and usually it doesn’t bother me, all the violence and nightmares” he looked to his feet “but; but you were shot and I couldn’t help you. And I can still hear them firing.” He breathed out, forcing floods of tears from his eye ducts - an applause worthy performance.

Your body language relaxed as a sympathetic expression appeared on your face. “Oh Finn,” you untucked yourself and stepped out of bed, Finn’s cheeks hot seeing you in a simple night gown. You walk over to him and take his face in your hands, looking him over.

Come on. Say it. Say it. Say it. He begged internally.

“Come on, come get in with me” you say, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Really?” He asks, trying not to sound as hopeful as he is. You nod confidently in response, shutting the door and leading him towards the bed. YES. You both lay in silence for a moment, before he sniffs loudly: still not fully happy with the response. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for waking you up with something so ridiculous. You were just laying there-” you hushed him and sat up, pulling him to lay on your chest.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay” you comfort, running your hands through his hair gently. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not hurt.” Finn looks up at you, to which you wipe his tears away with a soft thumb. “I just care so much about you, I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t protect you.” He admitted, mentally hoping you’d do what the others do to their husbands. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy.” You coo, a small smile on your face, leaning down to kiss his forehead tenderly before going back to play with his hair.

“Tell you what, you stay here with me tonight. Then I know you’re okay and you know I’m safe. How’s that sound?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. He grins between drying tears. “Thank you, you’re angel.” He whispers, moving up to touch your cheek to check you were real, that this wasn’t his dream. You lean into his touch and close your eyes for a moment.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, pushing the boundary as far as he could stretch it. You nod, tired. He pulls himself up and holds you like you were leaving him, like someone would take you away from him, you leaned up to kiss his jaw before settling down for the rest of the night. Maybe he should go into acting.

The next morning, Finn was eating breakfast, looking out the window and into the vast countryside. His brother Arthur walked over with a cup of coffee, but it smelled like he’d added a hint of whiskey. He clapped his brother on the back. “Alright, Finn?” The boy hummed in response. “No PTSD I hope.” The boy side eyed the older man. “Oh the bombs, oh the guns” he fawned and Finn elbowed him; mannerisms changing when you walked into the room to ask how he was feeling this morning.

Certainly not guilty, that’s for sure.

[agentidiot]

peaky blinders characters as cursed cakes

tommy

arthur

john

ada

finn

part 2 part 3 part 4

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Sleepless Nights

Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings:

soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.

Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.

The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.

As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.

Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.

“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.

She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”

Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.

“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”

Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.

She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”

Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”

He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”

Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."

He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."

He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."

She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.

“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.

His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.

Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.

His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.

Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.

A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.

She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.

He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"

She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."

Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."

He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."

She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."

They both stood there looking at each other.

"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."

He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."

She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."

Author’s Notes:

Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune

[tragicsiblings]

PEAKY BLINDERS | Shelby brothers + suits (?

[book-place]

Peaky Blinder Song

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

Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader

*not my gif*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From your first cigarette

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To your last dyin' day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you're a Jet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're a family man

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya think so?”

“I know so!”

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

You're never alone

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed, “I get them all the time.”

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

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

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

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

You're never disconnected

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're home with your own

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you two doing?”

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

“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.

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

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

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

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

When company's expected, you’re well protected

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

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

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

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

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

Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you are set with a capital J

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what makes ya say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777