I’m currently in the unique position of being able to read a lot, but I still need more 😂 I feel like there’s a lot more art and artist out there that I don’t know about, so help me out!
Recommend me some writing for Peaky Blinders. Especially the lesser known ones that I may have missed. Recommend your own work (do not be ashamed to do so!), recommend your friends work, recommend me your favourite fics. I like fluff, I like any genre really, doesn’t matter 😂 I’ll read old fics, I read new ones; I do not care. Message me, reblog this to help me spread it around, tag me idc how, I just would like to know what else is out there 😊
@theshelbyclan Here's my Peaky Blinders Masterlist and I'll also rec the incredible writers I know in the fandom. I know you've been here longer and might already know the majority of them, but perhaps you'll find a a few new blogs. (Apologies to anyone I forgot, I'm impressed I remembered this many 😆)
Please spread this around. Don't let ANYONE lie and say my community is anything but ASTONISHINGLY UNITED in rejection of ICE's behavior. This crosses generations, race lines, party lines, class lines. THAT is how bad ICE is. THAT is how bad we want them gone.
THAT is how loudly we are DEMANDING they leave!
Do you understand what a crowd like this means in a small city like Minneapolis??? In weather that hurts to breathe???
For readers outside the US: Negative twenty in American degrees is -29 Celsius.
I grew up in Canada, and when it was -25 C or below, they wouldn’t let us go outside for recess at school.
Like, everyone had boots and ski mittens and snowpants and winter coats, but still - indoor recess on those days. Cause the risk of frostbite was bad enough to justify everyone spending their lunch break supervising a classroom full of rowdy children.
That kind of cold is viscerally hostile to the human body. Your instincts will scream at you to GO INSIDE. It’s an environment that’s fundamentally physiologically unsafe, and you can feel that.
In the context of that weather, this turnout is even more compelling.
Who wants a distraction from their current WIP? I know I do! That's why I'm proposing a fun side project for anyone who'd like to participate.
The rules are simple and few:
❧Send an ask and I will assign you a fairytale, legend, etc. to interpret using your fave characters or OCs. Upon request, I'll also send an image for inspo.
❧If you have a suggestion for me, pls send that too! I'll be writing my own fic from one of the ideas I receive.
❧ Your story can be can be angsty, dark, fluffy, smutty.... Just be sure to include all appropriate warnings.
❧There's no word limit or time constraint. I only ask that you tag me or use #zablife fairytale challenge when it's posted so I can enjoy your work!
Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @cillmequick, @peakyswritings, @littlepeakydevil, @brummiereader, @call-sign-shark
Plot Summary : Billy Russo is tired of playing the dating game, so he decides to try and find his perfect match online with a very specific ad. When you respond, it quickly becomes clear that you're everything he wants, but is he what you need?
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut. There is an unspecified age gap between Billy and reader. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 4k
A/N : Soooo... I haven't decided if this is the last part or not. I know that sounds weird, and I did have more planned for this, but I like the ending here? (It's probably not the last part lbr... I'll let you all know in the next few days if I'm going to carry on with this...)
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
Chapter Five
Tears started falling long before Felix had a chance to open his mouth — somewhere between your hand slipping from Billy's and the step back you had taken. It was a natural and inescapable reaction to being so suddenly confronted with your past. All the happiness you'd managed to find in the last couple of weeks — not to mention in the last hours — fizzled to nothing, and all that remained was a heavy feeling of dread in your chest.
Billy's eyes caught yours as Felix spoke, and you knew that you were about to lose something special.
But, if you were going to lose him, you were going to be the one to walk out first. You weren't going to let him see you crumble. You didn't have a lot of dignity, but the little you had saw you to the elevator, and you didn't take your first gasped breath until after the doors had slid shut.
After that, there was no escaping the spiral, no keeping yourself from sinking into the endless darkness.
By the time you made it out onto the street, your eyes were bleary with tears and you felt a weight on your chest, keeping you from breathing.
You were easily swept up in the mid-afternoon crowd, lost in the noise and flow of people, just trying to hold yourself together. Every step taking you further from Anvil and further from Billy.
You didn't stop until you found a little park four blocks away, and your legs all but gave out as you reached a bench. Desperate to block out the world around you, you pulled your knees to your chest and hid your face in your folded arms, and let the panic take hold.
But, no matter how tightly you closed your eyes, you couldn't lose yourself entirely. You could still see Billy's face — the way he'd smiled at you in his office, the fondness in his eyes as he'd pulled you close. All you could think about was how you'd never see him again.
And it broke something inside you.
It had only been a few weeks, but it had been so long since anyone had looked at you the way Billy did, years since anyone had cared for you.
Now he was going to find out how much of a burden you were.
Cold and damp started to seep into your clothes and wet your hair — it was raining, but you couldn't bring yourself to lift your head, let alone move. You didn't even know how long you'd been there, minutes or hours. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered anymore.
So, when someone sat beside you, you didn't even try to pull yourself together enough to hide the fact you were falling apart.
"Sweetheart..."
You didn't expect an arm to wrap around you, or to be pulled against a familiar body. But, when you finally moved, it wasn't to protest or pull away, it was to press your face into the damp fabric of his coat and lose yourself in his scent. His hold tightened as sobs started to rack your body.
"It's okay," he murmured against the top of your head. "I'm here. I've got you."
"I — I — I'm s-sorry," you managed through awkward, heaving breaths.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he answered, holding you tighter still.
You shook your head but couldn't catch your breath enough to say any more.
It didn't make sense that he was there, that he had found you and was holding you, but you didn't want to question it. Regardless of hows and whys, you wanted it. You wanted Billy there with you. Part of you even dared to hope he was telling the truth, that he genuinely thought you had nothing to apologise for. (Did that mean he hadn't spoken to Felix at all after you left?)
"You're freezing," he muttered, starting to rub his hand up and down your back, trying to bring some of the heat back to your body.
You were vaguely aware that the rain was falling harder, but you couldn't move — you didn't want to lose the feeling of his arms around you, too scared that it would be the last time.
All that mattered was Billy holding you.
Your fingers clung to his coat as he eased you to your feet and, somehow, got you to start walking. He kept you held against him, shielding you from the world, and managed to get you to his car. Refusing to let go, you were pulled onto his lap.
As the car pulled away, you continued to tremble and sob on his lap, and he kept hold of you.
Billy flexed his fingers and felt the telltale ache across his knuckles. Seeing the state of you now had him wishing that he'd done more than just punch Sullivan. Finally, everything about you was starting to make an awful sort of sense to him and, for the first time since meeting you, Billy wished that he knew less.
It was no wonder you questioned every little act of kindness when you'd had a prick like that in your life for so long.
He found himself playing the conversation with Sullivan on repeat in his mind, looking for anything he might have missed, anything else he might need to know to help you.
Felix Sullivan had the audacity to look sympathetic, as if he'd just rescued Billy from something and not scared you away.
As the elevator door slid shut, spiriting you away from him, Billy was torn between trying to follow after and getting to the bottom of what had just happened. He knew there was no way of getting to you, at least not straight away, so —
"You," he said, taking a menacing step towards Sullivan," start talking."
"I'm sorry," Sullivan said, not seeing to grasp the precarious situation that he'd found himself in. "We used to date — back in high school, then she followed me to New York —" funny, you'd told Billy that you'd wanted to go to Yale but your boyfriend had convinced you to follow him to NYU. "We broke up in our second year and she got crazy."
Billy took a slow breath, trying to keep his temper, but he didn't like Sullivan calling you crazy.
"Crazy how?"
"She went full-on stalker, wouldn't leave me alone. She kept turning up," Sullivan said, still completely oblivious to the fact that he was the bad guy in the situation. "She broke into my apartment and I had to call the cops on her. I got a restraining order, but she shows up every few months. Look, I'm sorry. Whatever she said to get in here, it's not —"
Billy's eyes narrowed, his mind racing over what he knew about you, everything he'd witnessed. You weren't some crazed stalker — especially not for a prick like him.
"Why?" Billy asked. Sullivan shot him a confused look. "Why did she go crazy?"
Finally, Sullivan realised that Billy wasn't on his side and took a prudent step back.
"I don't know. We broke up, then her family died — I guess she had a hard time dealing with it, and she didn't exactly make herself a lot of friends when we came to New York," Sullivan shrugged. "But she was always a little fucked up, even when we were kids."
"Why did you break up?" Billy asked, though really what he wanted to know was why you'd been with a piece of shit like him to begin with.
"Like I said, she's always been fucked up, but we came from a small town," Sullivan shrugged again and dared a smile, trying to win Billy over. "When you're from a place like that, if you want to get your dick wet, you've got to be prepared to fuck crazy. But New York? New York has more choice, more —"
He didn't get to finish the thought before Billy's fist collided with his nose. Sullivan's head snapped back and he reeled into the wall. It was a good hit, just the right spot to cause a satisfying crunch and a gush of blood. The second punch was just for good measure, just because he could.
Sullivan stared at Billy, the wall at his back the only thing keeping him on his feet. It took him a second to even really register what had happened. Before he could speak or even think about trying to staunch the blood flowing from his nose, Billy said his piece.
"If I ever hear you've been anywhere near her again, I'll kill you," Billy said, his voice low. "If I hear you've even mentioned her name in conversation, or called her crazy again, I'll kill you."
He gripped Sullivan by the collar and dragged him towards the elevator. The doors opened and he shoved the other man inside, and followed after.
"Tell your boss to send someone else if he wants a contract with Anvil," Billy continued. "If you try to complain or tell anyone I broke your nose, I'll see to it that you never work in New York again. Do I make myself clear?"
Of course, Sullivan agreed — men like him always did. Fucking coward.
After that, Billy had checked the tracking app he'd put on your phone and quickly found where you'd ended up. It almost destroyed him to see the state you'd ended up in, hiding from the world while you cried. He'd failed you, and knew that he needed to fix it. He wanted to make sure you never felt lost or alone again.
On the ride back to your apartment, you slowly settled in his arms. You were still trembling, still taking those shuddering breaths, but the sobs had subsided. When he finally managed to get you to lift your face from his chest, he hated how familiar the exhausted look on your face was.
How many times had he seen you looking so tired? And how many times had he believed you when you told him you just hadn't slept enough?
He allowed himself a couple of minutes to wallow in his failures before doing what he did best; started formulating a plan to fix everything.
The first step was getting you upstairs and into your apartment.
Garfield gave a bemused meow at the sight of you, not used to seeing you home so early. The ginger cat followed as Billy led you to your bedroom and quickly got you out of your wet clothes and into bed. He stripped and climbed in behind you. Sensing your distress, Garfield jumped onto the bed and snuggled against your chest, while Billy pressed himself against your back.
Your cold skin quickly started to warm and, after some of the longest minutes of Billy's life, the tension slipped from your body and you fell asleep.
Hours passed before you stirred again, pressing yourself back against him and letting out a sleepy sigh.
Then you tensed, remembering where you were and what had happened. Before you could pull away, Billy pressed a kiss to your shoulder, letting his lips linger against your skin.
"It's okay," he told you. "Everything is okay."
You were silent for a beat, then; "is it?"
He hated that you had to ask, that the situation had left you so shaken that you were questioning him.
"Yes," Billy answered without hesitation. "Whatever happened between you and him is in the past. It doesn't matter to me."
Taking a shuddering breath, you turned to face him, your eyes betraying your lingering exhaustion as they searched his for any sign he was lying.
"You're mine," he said in an effort to settle any remaining doubts. Then he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to and Sullivan... he won't cause you issues ever again."
"W-what happened? What did he tell you?"
Billy considered lying, but that didn't seem fair. He had been given a peek at your deeper layers, it was only fair you got the same. "I punched him — he called you crazy, and I'm not going to let anyone talk about you like that."
Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull away. "You... hit him?"
"I did. I lost my temper, but I'm not sorry. He deserved it."
You were silent for almost a minute, just staring into his eyes, but he didn't push you to speak, didn't try to demand you understood or forgave what he'd done. He gave you time and all the patience he had, because he knew it was something you'd been sorely lacking.
"I... I wasn't stalking him," you said softly, your eyes drifting away from Billy. "He was just... all I had left after.. after..."
"After your family died?" Billy offered.
You nodded. "He wanted to come to New York, and he always wanted me around, so I never had the chance to meet people or make new friends..."
"What changed?"
"I didn't want to go out all the time... it was exhausting trying to manage my classes and all the parties. I — I started to struggle. I almost had to drop out, and that just made everything worse," there was a tremor in your voice, and Billy promised himself that if he ever saw Sullivan again, he'd do more than just punch him. "I told him it was too much, I asked him to help and stop pushing me and he... he said I was a burden..."
Billy tenderly brushed your hair away from your face and shook his head. "He should've taken better care of you."
"After... I found out that my family... I went to him... I just wanted to see him. I needed someone to talk to, someone who knew them. He told me he was busy, that we could go for coffee sometime..." you fell silent as a tear rolled down your cheek. "I went to his apartment one night — I didn't mean to break in but it was snowing, and I was so cold. He always used to hide a key under the mat, so I let myself in..."
"He found you there?"
"Him... and his new girlfriend..." you said. "When she asked who I was, he lied and told her we'd broken up months before when we hadn’t, and she made him call the police. And then —"
Billy didn't need to hear any more. He pulled you closer and held you tight. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I don't want you to think I'm too much," you murmured against his neck. "I don't want to lose you too."
"You won't. I promise you won't," he told you.
You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other for another couple of hours. Exhaustion claimed you again while Billy remained awake, listening to every gentle breath you took. He tried to ignore his anger, to silence the part of him that wanted Sullivan dead for how he had treated you — if he did anything, he would need to be careful about it and make sure none of it put suspicion on you.
The sun had already started to set when you stirred again and, as much as Billy wanted to let you sleep, you needed to eat. And so did he.
More importantly, so did Garfield.
The cat had disappeared for a few hours while you slept, but returned the moment he heard movement. A displeased meow heralded his arrival in the bedroom and had you getting out of bed to feed him.
Billy followed after, pulling on his boxers as you wrapped yourself in a robe. In the kitchen he stood behind you, winding an arm around your waist as you measured Garfield's kibble.
"Do you have a carrier for Garfield?" He asked, resting his head on your shoulder.
"Of course. Why?"
"Because once you've fed Garfield, you're going to go into your bedroom and start packing."
"Packing for what?"
"You and Garfield are moving in with me."
His arm stayed around you as you turned to face him, something between shock and confusion on your face.
"You want us to move in with you? Tonight?"
"We'll start tonight," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Then tomorrow I'll arrange for a moving company to come and get the rest of your things."
"But..." you started and stopped.
"What?" He gently prompted, wanting to know if you had a genuine objection.
"We've only known each other a few weeks, are you sure you want..."
"Am I sure I want you in my bed every night and every morning?" He asked. Without warning, he lifted you onto the kitchen counter, and placed himself between your legs. "Am I sure I want to be able to wake you up with my tongue every single morning?"
His hands pulled at the tie of your robe and you let it slip from your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. Fingers ghosted down your body, over your breasts and stomach to the apex of your thighs. A soft gasp tore from you the second his fingertips grazed your clit.
"Why wouldn't I want you to live with me?" He asked as his fingers started to trace slow, teasing circles over the little bundle of nerves. "Why wouldn't I want you at my beck and call every time I want to touch you or fuck you?"
Your hands gripped his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin.
"You're mine, of course I want you to live with me," he continued.
His words and his touch had heat burning through your body, and he soon had you exactly where he wanted you; wet and needy for him.
It started with a shift of your hips, a desperate and uncontrollable movement; your body trying to press closer, wanting more from him. Billy let his fingers dip lower, between your folds to your entrance, teasing you. A keening sound spilled from your lips as he toyed with you, almost slipping his fingers in but pulling them back at the last moment and returning them to your clit.
Your hips jolted again, and Billy just smiled fondly at you. Maybe he hadn't known you long, but it had been long enough for him to figure you out. He knew how to tease you just as well as he knew how to please you — now he was going to make sure you knew it too.
The longer it went on, the louder the sounds escaping you became, starting with little whimpers and turning into desperate moans. After five minutes, you were a trembling mess on the counter, your grip on his shoulders almost tight enough to cause him pain.
"Please," you finally gasped, unable to take the torment any longer.
Billy almost didn't want to stop — at any other time, he probably wouldn't have — but it had been a long day, and this wasn't about submission or proving a point. No, this was about showing you that he was in control and he knew exactly what he wanted.
"Please what, sweetheart?" He asked, his fingers continuing to tease. "Do you want me to make you come? Do you want me to show you how good I can make you feel?"
"Yes," you answered instantly. "Please."
He rewarded you just as quickly, sliding two fingers into the heat of your body. You cried out his name and it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to make you moan and cry and scream with pleasure. He wanted to make you feel so good that you forgot all about anything bad that had ever happened to you.
The teasing pace was replaced by purposeful strokes of his fingers, easily sinking down to the knuckle.
"You got so wet for me, didn't you?" He muttered.
"Uh-huh..."
His lips crashed into yours, igniting a hungry kiss that was more than enough to push you over the edge. Your body shook and trembled as Billy swallowed your moans. You were so lost to the sensations that you barely noticed Billy's fingers slipping from your body, until you felt him replace them with his cock.
"Fuck," he groaned, filling you to the hilt as you came. "You feel so fucking good, so fucking perfect."
Your fingernails broke skin, but Billy didn't flinch, didn't falter. He started to fuck you, hands gripping your hips, holding you in place so that he could set the pace, so he could be in complete control.
"Billy," you moaned. "Billy... Billy..."
Over and over, like his name was a prayer. He was desperate to answer that prayer, to give you anything and everything that you wanted. Billy didn't care if things were happening too quickly, too soon — he'd never wanted anyone the way he wanted you.
He kissed you again to keep himself from saying any of it, from telling you about the feeling deep inside of him that already wanted to keep you forever, the part that would fight for you, kill for you. And, when his lungs started to straight, his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses down to your bare breasts.
Your back arched, offering yourself to him as lips and tongue teased your nipples.
It didn't take much before you were coming again, and Billy quickly followed suit, unable to keep himself from falling apart when he felt your hands slip from his shoulders and your nails racked down his chest.
You inhaled sharply at the sensation, just like you did every time he spilled inside you. He grinned as he lifted his head, and felt you wrapping your legs around his waist, wanting to keep him close. His arms went around you, and he held you just as tight, both of you slowly coming down from your highs.
"Yes," you murmured softly, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Hmm?"
"I want to move in with you."
"Good, we'll —"
A loud, impatient meow cut him off, and both of you looked down to see Garfield standing at Billy's feet.
You looked at Billy, then you both started to laugh. With a shake of his head, Billy pulled away from you and helped you down from the counter. You redid your robe, gave Billy one last little smile, then turned to finish getting Garfield's food. Once the dish was on the floor, the cat completely forgot that the pair of you existed.
You took hold of Billy's hand and led him back into the bedroom with the intention of grabbing Garfield's carrier and starting to pack a bag. Instead, you ended up fucking again. And, when you were done, you laid at an awkward angle across the bed, your head resting on Billy's chest.
"Do you think he's finished eating yet?" Billy asked, glancing towards the door.
"Yeah... but he might need another half hour before we put him in the carrier..."
"Are you suggesting that we fuck again?"
"Maaaybe," you answered, barely holding back a laugh.
"You're insatiable..."
It took another two hours before you were ready to leave; you carried Garfield in his carrier while Billy carried a suitcase filled with all the things you'd need in the next couple of days.
Billy knew it was crazy, that he was being reckless and irresponsible, but he didn't care. You needed him, and he was starting to realise that he needed you just as much. What he felt when he was with you was like nothing he'd had before, and it wasn't something he could ever imagine giving up. Making you happy, making you feel safe, it made him feel like his life was worth something, and he was going to keep hold of you for as long as he could.
By the time you made it to his penthouse and you'd spent an hour making sure Garfield was happy, you looked exhausted again.
Despite the late hour, Billy ordered a pizza and the pair of you ate before settling in front of the TV. Billy pulled your hand onto his lap and idly ran his thumb across your knuckles, while you rested your head on his shoulder.
"Thank you," Billy said softly. "For agreeing to this..."
"Which part?"
"All of it."
A/N : I'm finally getting back to my normal writing schedule, but with the new dog things are still a little shaky (he's settling in, but he was a stray before he ended up at the rescue, so there's a lot of training to do with him). Like I said, I'm still deciding if this is finished or not. I have scenes that I have half-finished but I liked the ending of this chapter? So, I don't know... let me know in the comments, I guess? If I do finish this, I might try to get through the last of my smutober requests and repost the poll for my next full length fic? ANYWAY, I hope you're all happy that Billy broke Felix's nose and is considering murdering him.
As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!
If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.
Tag list : @oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18
