#peaky

[warnersister]

Put your shoes on, love

Finn Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smut (choking, name calling)

Summary: Finn’s got flowers, you have needs, his brothers don’t help.

Request here

“Where you going with them Finn?” Arthur asked his brother, eyeing the comically large bouquet of flowers that the former was now attempting to hide behind his slender frame. “No where” he quickly blurts “with what?” “Yeah yeah sure” Arthur narrows his eyes with a smirk as the boy scurries off, nearly falling over his own feet.

Finn checks over his shoulders few times before throwing little pebbles at the top window of a terrace house. *tap* *tap* *tap* “OW” “shit sorry darling” you rubbed your forehead as you peeked outside your window. “I am sorry my love” he said, hand holding the bouquet with one hand and the other scratching the back of his neck guiltily. “You’re lucky you’re attractive Shelby or I’d be lobbing something at your head.” You said with a faux angry look on your face as he grins up at you.

“They better be for me” you say, nodding at the flowers behind his back “maybe. Guess you better come and see” he hums, pivoting from heel to toe as you shake your head with a grin. “Give me a minute” you say, shutting your window and padding your way down the stairs.

You open the door and jump into his arms as he drops the flowers to catch you, spinning you around and holding you in the air, hovering just above the cobbles as he looks at you lovingly. “You haven’t got shoes on” he says, matter of factly. And you squeak “can you carry me back in” “ah that’s gonna cost you” he says with a straight face and you get closer and whisper “Finn I have no money” he grins “lucky I don’t accept money, ain’t it?” He rests his forehead against yours “only kisses” and kisses your lips sweetly.

He takes wide steps into the doorway of your house as you comment “hope you don’t take kisses off anyone else” “course not sweetheart.” “Get my flowers.” “Yes, love” he steps back and grabs the bouquet, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t slam my bloody door” “sorry, love”

“Should I get my shoes?” You ask after decanting and repotting the, now slightly squished, flowers. “I have something I’d rather do” he said, walking you backward as you raise your brow with a giggle “what’s that, Shelby?” “You” he exclaims, throwing you over his shoulder as a squeal emits from your mouth.

Finn’s suspenders are slackened and his trousers are at his ankles; your skirt hitched above your waist as he grips at the pooling material to keep it out of his way “do you..” you take a gulping breath to keep up with his pace “want me..” “to get on top?” You ask and he smirks at you, shaking his head smugly “nah you just lay there and look pretty.. let me do all the work darlin” he tells you “actually, hold this for me” he passes the bunched up dress from his hands to yours to free his up, his hands going to your hips to angle them further upwards, prompting a groan from deep in your chest. He passed a hand around your throat to feel the vibrations of your sounds but his fingers tightening around the skin forced a deep, guttural moan out of your lips; an immeasurable pleasure stimulating at your core “Jesus you do like to be fucked like a slut.” He hisses “thought you were supposed to be all innocent, my innocent good girl” his words and deep thrusts overstimulated your mind and body, your chest arch upwards into him and off the bed “that’s it, cmon show me how much you want me-” *knock, knock, knock* his movements faltered and you whined “don’t stop for fucks sake-” *knock, knock, knock* “I think there’s someone at the door” Finn said “no shit” you reply with an angered snarl. “Get off me” you huff, pushing him off of you as he rolls onto the bed and you stand on wobbly legs. He grins victoriously and folds his fingers together and slots them behind his head to rest on as you stomp down the stairs.

“What?” You open the door angrily to see John and Arthur Shelby stood shoulder to shoulder in the frame. They raise their eyebrows in surprise at your angered and messed appearance and sharp tone, a hint of a smile on John’s lips. “Just wanted to let Finn know we’re all heading to the Garrison, love” Arthur said “and?” “Can you tell him, flower?” John asked nicely, “no, fuck off” you say as you try to shut the door but John places a foot in the way. “What’s got you so worked up, darling?” “We were a bit busy. I’ll send him later-” “send me where?” You all heard as he sauntered down the stairs “pub” you say in a sulk. They looked Finn up and down as his eyes widened at who the visitors at the door were. They shared a look as they took in his and your’s appearances. Your messed up hair and crinkled clothes that only seemed to iron out at the waist, Finn’s bare chest, suspenders around his waist, button done on his trousers but the zip down, a tent evident in his trousers - even missing a sock. “Oh!” Arthur said “our apologies” he said, but couldn’t form it completely due to his and John’s eruption of laughter. “You’re busy Finn, clearly.” John nodded, still chuckling. “So those flowers were for someone” Arthur suggested, on his tiptoes as he peered nosily into the house. “Look I was doing something-” Finn said, but you interrupted. “He was doing someone. Fuck off” you slammed the door “ruined my fucking orgasm” you cursed, grabbing the elastic of his loose suspender and dragging him back up the stairs as if on a leash.

“You’re gonna make me cum then you can go out. Do exactly what you were doing” you instruct, flopping dramatically onto the messed up bead spread with a bothered huff. He crossed his arms and leant against the door frame “and what exactly was I doing, Mrs?” He hums “choking me and calling me a slut.” He licks his lips at your bluntness, rushing over and climbing back on top of you. You look up at him with angry, wide, doe eyes as he teases you with the tip and ghostly his hand around your neck, tracing your jaw line as if the essence of a sketch “Fuck me Finn”.

About fifteen minutes later, Finn opened the door to see his brothers leant against the wall, smoking, clearly waiting for him. They looked at him, neck purple with kiss-infused bruises and licking his palm to flatten his hair, tucking his shirt into his trousers. “Want to tie your shoelace?” Arthur asked and Finn rolled his eyes and squatted to do so, as John peered into the house to see you, much calmer, at the foot of the stairs. “You coming love?” Arthur asked “am I invited?” You asked, slightly surprised.

“Get your shoes on, love”

[theshelbyclan]

Hello my friend :) how are you doing? There aren’t many writers left on here but maybe that will change once we have a movie. I was wondering if you’d be willing to share with us something about pre-war Tom. Whatever you’d like :)

Hi love 😊 I’m always up for writing a short Drabble with pre-war Tommy! Thanks for asking! This is set around 1910, so Tommy is probably 19 or 20 years old in this one. Reader is about the same age. It has been a while since I last wrote anything and this was just a quick little thing, so yeah, treat me kindly 😂 Hope you enjoy 😘

———

Adolescence

Slushing through the mud and filth of Small Heath, you made your way back home. After a long shift at the BSA, you always felt an enormous sense of relief once it was over, but then there was still the walk home, which somehow felt like miles and miles to your exhausted feet. With a sigh, you pressed on.

It wasn’t just you: there were rows of women now leaving the factories after their shift was done, and each and every one of you disappeared into anonymity.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours from the shadows and pulled you into an alleyway. A small scream escaped your lips before you could help it. But he quickly pressed his lips against yours to muffle the noise.

“Tommy!” you breathed, half excited, half shocked, “Someone will see!”

He grinned widely at you, while checking over your shoulder to see if anyone had indeed noticed, “They’re all too exhausted to care! I’ve missed you…” and he went in for another kiss.

“I’ve missed you too,” and you kissed him back because what the hell. He was right. Everyone was walking around like a ghost anyways and no one really cared. Except maybe your father. But his shift wasn’t over for at least another few hours.

Everyone in Birmingham always seemed tired, living from shift to shift, surviving just another day. But not Tommy Shelby. He prowled around the city and defied the rules with a cocky grin and skipped down the streets if it would impress you. Everything about him felt so… light. And even though he didn’t talk much, and even though you could always see the plans forming in that clever mind of his, and even though not much of what the Shelby’s did was technically legal, there was still the mischievous Tommy-boy in there as well. And you could bring him out, without even trying.

“How about I take you out, eh?” Tommy whispered between hungry breaths.

“Take me out where?”

“To the pictures? I know a man who can let us in ‘round the back.”

You scoffed, “Oh, you know a man, do you?”

“Yes, I know a man, yes,” he laughed, as he tried to sneak a hand up your skirt, which you quickly slapped away. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” He begged.

And how you longed to go with him. All the tiredness fell from you when you were with him. Tommy Shelby always made you feel so alive.

But instead you said, “I can’t today, I have to help mum with the windows.”

Tommy dropped his hands and groaned. “How about I do the windows? And then I’ll do you afterwards, yeah?”

“That’ll be the day!” you laughed. “Tomorrow, alright?”

And before he could protest again, you’d ducked around the corner and joined the crowd again. But once at home, you had a hard time concentrating on the chores your mother had set for you.

The days were long and hard in Small Heath and as soon as you hit the bed, you felt your body being weighted down by the responsibilities of the day. Every day was the same: work, work and more work. Each and every one of you just tried to stay alive in the middle of this cesspool of a city. But alive, for what? It wasn’t really living at all. It was just surviving. Closing your eyes, you tried to let go of it all. Tried to sleep.

A small tick sounded against your window. Your eyes shot open again and your heart fluttered. And there is was again, that feeling: alive.

With newfound energy, you jumped up and looked out the window. And there he was: sparkling blue eyes looking up through long lashes. Tommy Shelby.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You hissed.

He laughed at you, like he wasn’t defying anyone af all, “I came to see you!”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad about you, yeah,” and grinning pearly white teeth, he set to the drainpipe and started hoisting his way up. You didn’t even have time to respond.

“Well, hello,” he simply announced himself as soon as he was level with you.

“Lower your voice,” you hissed, but also, “Hello, mr. Shelby.”

“Hello, princess,” and he took your hands in his and stroked your fingers.

You looked down at your hands and sighed. Your nails were dirty and one of them had cracked due to the hard factory work. These were certainly not the hands of a princess.

It was like he could read your mind: “Don’t worry about that, princess, soon you won’t have to work there again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he took your hands and put one on his shoulder and held onto the other. “Come on, dance with me.” And he even started humming a little song.

You couldn’t help but smile. He was always so happy, so playful, so optimistic about the future. You were often filled with worries, but it was like Tommy Shelby had the gift of looking beyond all of that. Like he was in Small Heath, but somehow floated above it all. Like he wasn’t defined by it. And when he held you, you floated with him.

“Remember what I told you, eh?” he whispered as he stroked your hair, “It’ll get better soon. I’ll make sure of it. And soon the whole world will change and kids won’t have to grow up like we did anymore. I know it will!”

You knew he had all kinds of political ideas, radical ideas according to your father, about the future. Ideas that would help the working man to rise above his station. And dreams about a world without oppression or struggle, without poverty or strife. You weren’t so sure about these fanciful ideas: “How do you know?”

He smiled his signature cocky grin, “I just know. Can’t you feel it? The whole world is about to change. The shift is already happening. You can feel the growing unrest in the streets. I don’t know what it is yet, but it won’t be long now. And then it’s not just the place that will change, but it’s all of us. None of us will be the same anymore.”

And somehow you believed him. How could anyone not believe that beautiful boy with endless trust in people and faith in a better life?

“You promise?” you whispered.

He nodded slowly, “I promise.”

And he was right of course.

The whole world did change, and no one was ever the same again.

[garlicbreadmafia]

[xbalanque-br]

The King of Birmingham, rendered in the dark.

[sowhatifiliveinfukuoka]

[devilmence]

im ngl i never liked grace’s lyin triflin ass man and why are we 5 seasons in still hearin abt her

[angloirishnolanist]