Ride The Bull - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

Ride the Bull - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

A couple of drabble requests combined prompted this new piece of Alfie smut. Enjoy, my darlings! 

“Alright, Y/N, what you still doing here at this time?” Your boss asks, leaving his office to find you still behind your desk, writing in the ledger. Just the feel of him standing behind you, his imposing bulk right there, the scent of him, god. He makes your insides burn.  

“Just getting ahead, Mr Solomons.” You look up, your heart and stomach somersaulting as usual to behold your handsome boss. You might be a married woman, but you’ve always found him attractive.  

“How many times have I got to tell you, darlin? Just call me Alfie. Mr Solomons is my father.” His tone is brusque, but there’s amusement there in his voice, perhaps even a tinge of softness.  

Keep reading

Messing with the Peaky Fookin Blinders

Thomas Shelby x (Sister) reader, Arthur Shelby x (Sister) reader, John Shelby x (Sister) reader,

Plot: (Y/N) came home one day with tears in her eyes and some scratches on her. Her brothers go to protect family mood

Word Count: 1180

Warning: Teen reader, regular amount of Peaky Blinders violence, bad grammar (as always), Protective Arthur, John, and Tommy,

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform

It was late afternoon, almost evening when (Y/N) walked into the house. Usually, she would be home before this time, but she was supposed to meet up with a boy that she really fancied, but it didn’t turn out like she expected. Her eyes had been glossy the whole walk home. She closed the heavy door, signalling to the whole house that someone walked into the house.

“(Y/N) is that you?” John yells out from one of the rooms, but she doesn’t reply, she just wanted to go to her room. She hears some movement before hearing her brothers again.

“Oi, what happened to ye?” Arthur inquires, seeing his little sister with her head down, hiding behind her hair.

“Nothing. Just tired is all,” she replies, trying to move around her brothers. Tommy quickly grabbed her arm, stopping her. She whips around, the boys finally seeing the damage she arrived with. A couple of bruises littered her face. Scratches adorned her open skin. This shocked all three of them.

Arthur quickly picked her up and moved her to the kitchen. Tommy and John followed close behind. The light was turned on, giving them more light to see her condition. Arthur placed her on the counter and gently pulled her hair back like a curtain. She had a black eye and a bruise forming against her cheek. What scared them the most was the bruise forming around her neck. Her knees and elbows were scuffed up, blood slowly falling from the open cuts.

“Who did this,” Tommy asks cooly.

“You remember the boy I had talked about,” they give a quick nod, remembering that they didn't like the idea of her going out with the boy. “It was a joke... a bet. Once the bet was up, they beat me up,” she says. The looks on their faces were cold.

“Did they say anything else?” Arthur pushes.

“They said something about revenge, but I couldn’t really make out the words…” she trails off, trying to not let the tears fall. Tommy placed a gentle hand on her shoulders. Before anyone could get another word in, Polly walked into the kitchen and before she could get a word in she saw (Y/N). She gasped and pushed off the brothers to get a look at the young girl.

“What in the bloody hell happened?” she questioned, pushing back her hair to get a better look at the damage herself.

“Apparently some of Kimber’s young men thought it would be funny to mess with (Y/N),” Arthur says while getting some ice.

“How’d you know it’s Kimber?” Polly questions, grabbing the ice from the oldest Shelby and gently placing the ice on (Y/N) face.

“Are we at war with anyone else at the moment?” Tommy questions while lighting a cigarette.

“Fair point,” she stated. (Y/N) hisses at the coldness, but Polly ignores her whines. She hears liquid in a bottle swing and then footsteps.

“Hold out your arm,” John says, which she follows. A burning feeling runs up her arm as the cloth is placed on her cut.

“You got lucky that they didn’t try to break bones (N/N),” Arthur states, hating to watch his younger sister in pain. The silence in the room was broken by a sniffle. Their attention was all brought back to the youngest Shelby daughter.

“I thought someone finally took a fancy to me…” her voice breaks at the end. Everyone's heart breaks for her. Polly brings her into an embrace, trying to comfort her. The three men got up, grabbed their hats and coats and made their way out the door.

"Where are you lot going?" Polly yells out, already knowing the answer.

"Don't worry, it won't take long," John calls out before the door closes.

“Where are they going?” (Y/N) questioned, looking up at Polly. She gives the younger girl a small smile before answering.

“They are going to get revenge for their sister. Now, let us get you cleaned up and into bed,” (Y/N) nods before they make their way upstairs.

It was late into the night when the three returned to the Watery Lane house. (Y/N) was partially asleep, still dejected over what had happened hours before. She stirred awake again, but instead of a quiet house, she heard footsteps and soft voices throughout. She got up and slowly opened her door, trying not to alert the people who were making the noises. She slowly made her way out of her room and down the stairs, following the voices. She peaked her head into the office area, seeing her three older brothers sitting around. They were drinking and talking, probably about Kimber.

“I think someone is dropping in on our conversation,” Arthur’s voice breaks their current conversation. The boy's eye’s met her (Y/E/C) through the partially opened door. Tommy gestured for her to enter, she quickly comes in and goes to sit beside Arthur. He brings her into his lap, with her head leaning against his chest.

“How are doing?” John asks.

“Better. Still, a little shaken,” she replies, snuggling in her brother's embrace, fidgeting with his callused hand.

“Hopefully you won’t have to deal with them anymore,” Tommy’s deep voice calls out. She moved so she could face him, confusion crosses her face. He gives her a gentle smile.

“We can explain in the morning. Now, I think you should go back to bed,” Tommy pushes but her grip on Arthur tightened. That action caught all of their attention right away. It gave away more than (Y/N) had wanted.

“Oh (N/N),” Arthur whispers, bringing her into his embrace. His chin rested on her head. More tears run down her face.

“They are in my dreams…turning them into nightmares,” she whimpers, trying to move closer to her brother.

The three look between each other. They had never seen (Y/N) this shaken up before and it broke their hearts. Arthur keeps her against him, John now sitting closer to the two, his hand resting on her leg. They continue their conversation but try to keep off the topic of Kimber. Eventually, she fell asleep, listening to Arthur’s heartbeat. The three relax a little, knowing that she is safe in their arms.

“So now what, they will probably go after her again,” John says, noticing the sleeping Shelby. Arthur doesn’t want to move, not wanting to wake her.

“She isn’t going to leave our side,” Tommy says while lighting a fresh cigarette. “And if she does?” Arthur questions.

“We send someone after her. She will always be in the presence of a Peaky Blinder,” he states, the smoke billowing out of his mouth. All of their eyes land on their sister, small smiles cross their faces. She was the only one that would ever see them this soft. A soft smile graces her sleeping form when they all place a small kiss on her head.

“We love ya and we won’t let anything 'appen to you again,” Tommy promises to the sleeping girl.

Sold (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader)

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold's daughter!Reader

Synopsis: The coin lands on tails

Warnings: Smut (implied age gap, dubcon/noncon, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, cursing, praise kink, sir kink, choking, overstimulation) Angst (anxiety, crying, manipulation, blood loss)

Author's note: I thought of this on a whim one day and went with it. Definitely a darker portrayal of Tommy.. read at your own discretion.

——————————————————————————

“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard Charlie.”

“You goin’ what?”

“If it’s heads, Abe here takes all this,” Tommy explained with an extended hand, “with my blessing.”

“Tommy!”

“And if it’s tails,” Tommy paused, flicking his eyes to Aberama's cocked brow. “I fuck your daughter Mr. Gold.”

His face fell stone cold at the proposition.

“What’ll it be?” Tommy asked with a smug expression, dragging a cigarette across his lips. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.” Abbie spat, straightening his posture to assert dominance.

Tommy’s expression remained unchanged as he twirled the coin between his fingers before tossing it in the air, catching it on top of his hand.

His pale blue eyes glinted as he uncovered the coin, facing tails up. In an effort to contain his amusement his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked up to Abe.

“A deal is a deal.” Abe coughed, adjusting the collar of his coat, clenching his jaw.

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement as his face cast aglow from the flame of his cigarette. Behind the orange glare you could faintly make out the edge of his lips tugging into a smirk.

——————————————————————————

Expensive shoes crunched lightly against the gravel of Thomas Shelby’s driveway as you exited your lift. Your breath hitched in nervousness as the car rolled away behind you, disappearing into the darkness.

With a few hesitant steps you made contact with the door, knocking lightly against the wood. After a few moments a maid named Frances let you in, granting your chilled limbs a satisfying warmth in the lit up foyer.

Her hands fell open out of habit, prepared for your coat. The fabric fell off your shoulders with the shrug of your arms, exposing your skin.

She smiled warmly as she received it, turning from you to place it on a rack. With her back to you, you were granted the privacy to unhide your expression. The heaviness of shame dragged the corners of your mouth into a frown.

She turned to you, attentive with her posture and eyes. “Are you here to see Charlie? A sitter perhaps?” Her brows raised in a sort of put on friendliness.

You blinked, thumbing the beads hanging off your dress. “N-no,” you replied shyly, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “I’m here to see Thomas Shelby.”

Her warm expression melted at the realization, the falling of her lips communicated an unspoken sympathy.

You took in a breath, shaky with anticipation. “Might you direct me to his room?”

“Right, of course.” She shook her head in embarrassment, forcing a smile and guiding you with an extended arm.

As you followed behind her and up the stairs, your eyes flicked over the many paintings on the walls. A blonde woman caught your eye. She was beautiful; framed in a circle of moonlight pouring through a nearby window. Your neck craned, following her eyes, as they did you grew nauseous.

“It’s just down the hall there dear,” The maid directed with a pointed finger, dissolving your trance.

Your eyes scanned over the many doors, stopping at one furthest down the hall. An orange glow spread from under the door, illuminating a path on the embroidered carpet.

“Thank you.” You murmured, keeping your eyes down, and starting down the vacant hall.

She hummed as she departed, disappearing carefully down the stairs.

Hesitant steps carried you down the dark corridor. The shaking of your breath broke the stillness of the air as you grew closer to your fate. A throbbing commenced in your head as you stopped, hovering inches from the door.

Black shadows moved at your feet, indicating activity on the other side. Swallowing thickly, you raised your fist to hover against the wood. With a heavy breath you knocked lightly, 2 times. A stirring of bed sheets came through the door, making you freeze.

“Come in.” a masculine voice called out, increasing your heart rate.

With his instruction, you turned the knob, twisting it’s cool handle and pushing it open with a creak. Candlelight lit up his figure as you entered the room.

Your chest rose as your eyes flicked over his shirtless form, sprawled under white bed sheets with a drink in his outstretched arm. He was otherworldly. His taut chest was covered in ripples of muscle, decorated with a tattoo. His firm forearms twitched slightly as he thumbed the glass in his hand. Your posture stiffened as you closed the door behind you, not removing your eyes from him.

“So you’re Gold’s daughter eh?” He asked, although already knowing the answer. His eyes hungrily scanned your body as he awaited a response.

“Y-yes.” You subconsciously played with the hem of your dress as his piercing blue eyes drank you in.

“What’s your name?” The bed springs squeaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching to sit his drink on the nightstand.

Your breath hitched at the quiet thud against the wood. “Y/n, sir.”

He was quiet for a moment, suppressing a groan at your pet name. “That’s a lovely name.”

Your eyes wandered to his shifting hips as he neared you, growing taller with every step. The thin white fabric of his boxers scarcely hid the print of his length.

“Y/n.” He repeated to himself, admiring you with parted lips. Your attention moved to him as your name dripped off his tongue. In closeness you could smell his cologne, almost taste it.

I’m curiosity he extended a finger out to brush your cheek, tracing your soft, youthful skin.

The contact made your face burn, unfamiliar with the feeling of a man’s touch.

He pulled away in surprise, studying you with furrowed brows.

His gaze was dominant, powerful, making you feel small and submissive in his presence. His proximity was arousing, close enough to feel his body heat warming yours.

“Are you a virgin?” His voice was low and gravely, making your stomach sink.

You couldn’t help your eyes from watering, both in embarrassment and fear. “Y-yes sir.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, clenching his jaw.

You shifted your weight on each foot, unsure if he was aroused or regretful.

“I’ve never taken a man Mr. Shelby.” With wide, innocent eyes you studied his face. His captivating crystal eyes, his prominent cheek bones, then down to his pink, plump lips, glistening with saliva as he pulled his bottom lip into his teeth.

You mimicked him subconsciously, growing in desire as you studied his masculine features.

His eyes met yours making you gasp softly.

Without warning he closed the gap between you, capturing your mouth in his.

The impact pushed you back slightly, if not for his hand on your back you would have stumbled over.

His breath fanned your cheek as his lips hungrily caressed yours, sucking at your mouth with his.

Your heart pounded with adrenaline, both in arousal and fear.

Your neck craned as you clumsily kissed him back, steadying yourself with your fingers against his shifting jaw.

He groaned at your touch, pulling away from you with a pop. Your eyes fluttered open at his retreat, finding his lust blown pupils, glistening in the amber light.

His hand slid up your back in eagerness, though not rushed, reaching for the top zipper. The feeling of his hands on your body send chills down your skin.

Your dress loosened as he pulled down, nearly exposing your chest if not for your hand catching the falling fabric.

“Wait..” your voice trembled, blinking in fear. His fingers loosened from the zipper at your protest.

“It’s just,” you breathed in, chewing your lip as to not grow upset, “I’m afraid.”

In amusement his mouth curled into a half smile, exposing his teeth, intrigued by your innocence.

Don’t worry love,” he leaned into your ear, muttering lowly with a gravely tone, “I’ve got the best cock in England.”

There wasn’t sarcastic tone in his voice, rather a seriousness, a confidence that rolled off his tongue. The thought made your stomach twist.

“Let me see you.”

You obliged, knowing it was a command and not a suggestion. Slowly, your hand lifted from your chest, allowing the gown the fall down your body.

It hit the floor with a soft thud, exposing your youthful figure. A chill raised on your skin at your bareness, causing you to shiver slightly.

He pulled back from your ear, taking time to admire you. His mouth fell agape as he took you in. Your slender shoulders, narrow hips, and pink nipples, erect in the cool air.

“Christ.”

Instinctually you covered yourself, hiding your breasts and core with trembling hands.

Your couldn’t face him, instead finding your gaze on the floor, watching your feet shift against the velvety carpet.

He shook his head, stepping towards you, bumping into your arms with his abdomen.

Your head tilted at the new angle, finding him looking down at you past his nose. “Don’t hide from me love.”

Your skin warmed as his large hands grasped your wrists, making your heart pound as he easily pulled them from your body.

“I need to fuck that little cunt.” He breathed to himself, exploring his hands up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their place.

Anticipating his cock inside of you made your stomach twist in knots.

His hands stopped at your shoulders, making you stumble backwards as he maneuvered you to the bed. The wood frame met your heels as you met the edge.

“Lay back love,” the force of his hands gently pushed you backwards, lowering you onto the mattress.

You sucked in a breath as the soft comforter swallowed your small frame, leaving you sprawled open. His eyes flicked over you with a predatory gaze, clenching his jaw in arousal as he scanned your body, ready to receive him. Your hair spread underneath you, rippling in soft waves across his sheets.

He worked his boxers down with his thumb, causing your chest to rise as he shuffled the fabric down his thighs.

A patch of dark hair exposed itself at the movement, before finally revealing his half hard cock, bobbing towards his toned abdomen.

Your lips parted in intrigue as he fisted himself a few times, growing hard as his thick fingers stimulated his reddened head.

He let out a withheld breath, dipping the mattress with his weight as he crawled on top of you, trapping you in with his outstretched arms.

Your heart was pounding at a dizzying pace as he closed the space between you. His body heat evaporated his scent, cool with lingering cigarette smoke and whiskey. You breathed him in, foreign to the musk of a man.

“I’ll take good care of you love,” he reassured, pulling your attention to him with a hand in your hair. “don’t worry..” he spoke against your lips, pulling you in for a long kiss.

Your eyes fell closed at the contact. His breath fanned your cheek as he tasted you, groaning lowly as he worked his soft lips against yours.

Imagining his skill made your thighs clench, knowing the amount of women he has been with.

Your squirming under him caught his attention, causing him to break the kiss, hovering inches from your face.

“Are you ready?” He asked, scanning over your face with an eagerness in his turquoise blue eyes.

“I have to be.” You mumbled in an uncertain tone, chewing the inside of your cheek.

He let out a heavy breath as he diverted his eyes from you, reaching for his length. You watched him attentively as he grasped himself, lining up with your open legs.

His other hand pinned down your thighs, making you stuck in a breath as he spread your soft flesh with his firm fingers.

With knit brows he pushed himself into your entrance, making you both gasp.

You fisted the sheets at the unfamiliar pressure, growing in intensity.

“Fuck…” He groaned as he worked into you, stretching out your tight walls with his thick cock.

You whimpered in pain as he buried himself inside of you, not stopping until his thighs touched yours.

He pulled out slightly, making your breath hitch as your insides burned.

The sheets wrestled as he changed positions, resting on his elbows to close the gap between you. His length bumped further into you, making you clench around him.

“Mr. Shelby.. I- I can’t..” you whimpered, writhing under him, looking to ease the feeling of fullness.

“Shh..” he soothed, hovering against your ear “It’ll feel good love, I promise.” His lips met your cheek softly, making you let out a breath.

With a concentration in his brow he pulled out slowly, making you gasp, empty and clenching around nothing.

His thick traps impeded your view, only giving you access to his shifting jaw and taut chest pressing into yours.

He plunged into you again with the bucking of hips, quicker this time, forcing himself inside of you.

You squeaked at the movement, feeling a pressure in your walls as he claimed you.

He began a steady rhythm, chasing pleasure with shaky breaths as he rocked in and out of you at a quick pace.

Your eyes squint shut as he stimulated you, sheathing you with his cock. The hair of his thighs tickled yours as he pounded in and out of you, rocking the bed.

He groaned lowly as you squeezed him, and began to pick up his intensity, harshly colliding with your body.

“Oh fuck..” he groaned with knit brows, fucking you hard. “Good girl, squeeze me like that.”

His praise withdrew a whimper from your throat, encouraging you to slide your hands over his back. Your fingers explored the muscles of his shoulders, shifting with his movements.

The continuous intrusion of his length nudged a spot inside of you, making your toes curl.

“Mr. Shelby..” you whined, holding onto his shifting shoulders for leverage. His body was warm and tough with muscle.

Your sounds encouraged him, and he rutted into you harder, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you, sending bursts of pleasure down your legs.

Your nails dug into his flesh subconsciously, kneading his skin damp with sweat. He groaned, aroused by the pain of your nails in his flesh.

His breathing labored as he fucked you, fanning your face as his forehead fell against yours. You were spilling in arousal, squelching with his every movement.

Rapid breaths escaped your parted lips. Chasing the feeling, you arched your back, bumping into his chest. His sweat covered skin rubbed against yours as he fucked you.

“Are you close?”

Numb with pleasure your head nodded, unable to form words.

“Good girl..” he praised breathlessly, “good girl..” He rocked into you forcefully, moving your body back and forth on the mattress.

“I’m gonna-“ you paused, stunned by a wave of pleasure from his calculated thrusts, “Mr. Shelby..” your whimpered, helpless as your muscles tensed underneath him.

“Come for me sweetheart,” he panted, burying his head in your neck, “come for me.” His deep gravely voice pulled you over the edge.

“Oh fuck!” You yelped, convulsing as waves of pleasure wrecked through your body.

Your eyes squeezed shut in euphoria, mouthing incoherent words as he fucked you through your high, murmuring against your skin.

He moaned deeply as your spasming walls squeezed his length, making his pace waver for a moment.

“Fuck..” you moaned, wrestling the sheets with your squirming.

He didn’t stop, relentlessly fucking your overstimulated entrance with his thick length.

“Mr. Shelby.. it’s too much..” your nails dug into his back in pain.

“I’m almost there love,” he panted, red in the face as he neared his high.

His length continued to pry into you, deeper and harder as his desperation grew.

You squirmed instinctively, pulling yourself away from his cock.

He intercepted your resistance with a firm hand sliding up your throat. His grasp caught the breath in your lungs, making your eyes water.

“Fuck.. stay put love..” he groaned lowly, nudging his nose against your neck as he rutted in and out of you.

Your eyelids drooped at the pressure, lazily following the shifting muscles in his back.

“Ahhh..” he groaned deeply, flexing his core against yours. “Oh fuck…”

He came undone at last, emptying himself into you with a loud groan. “Christ..” he cursed with an open mouth, bucking his hips against yours as his warm seed filled you up.

His grasp tightened slightly as he tensed, unleashing a tear down your cheek and onto his hand.

His pace slowed to shallow rocking, as he came down from his high. Once satisfied, he pulled out with a slick wet noise, making your thighs shake.

His hand released from your throat as he caught his breath, lifting his head from yours to hover above you. His forehand fell against yours in exhaustion, leaving a bead of sweat on your face.

Without saying a word he leaned in, kissing your damp skin, removing the wetness with his lips.

You clenched your jaw, trying best to keep your emotions as bay as you turned your head from him, softly sniffling.

He pulled away from you, rolling to his back with a satisfied sigh as he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand.

While he was occupied you sat up slightly, pulling the covers over your exposed limbs.

As you did so your eyes caught a glimpse of red on the sheets. They wandered to your open thighs, widening at the sight of smeared blood.

You held a hand to you face, blinking in shock and turning to Tommy, “There’s blood!”

Your hand on his forearm turned his attention to you. “It’s okay love,” he took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a fair amount of smoke, “It’s normal.” His free hand reached for yours, smoothing over your knuckles with his thumb as he let out a puff of smoke through pursed lips.

His touch unleashed a flood of tears from your eyes, which you quickly covered with your hand as they trickled down your face.

You sucked in short breaths, crying against your hand as your body shook.

“Eh, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, reaching for you.

You shook your head, refusing to speak the truth, instead letting it out in the form of tears, forming dark circles on his sheets.

“Talk to me love,” His voice held a tone of sincerity as he kept his eyes to your frame. “Please.”

You took in a shaky breath, swiping your face before letting down your hand. “I’m just a body to you.”

Your gaze was emotionless, frozen on the yellow wallpaper in front of you, dancing over each flower design.

With enough courage you turned your head to face him, pulling your watery eyes to his. “I don’t want to just be a body Thomas.”

The sound of his name on your lips made him freeze. It was vulnerable. Desperate. His cold expression fell, replacing with one of sympathy and warmth in the flicking of his eyes.

“You’re not.” He shook his head, putting his cigarette down and smoothing his other hand over your arm. You leaned into his touch, sucking in a shaky breath through your mouth and rolling onto his chest.

“You’re not just a body to me love.” He spoke against your hair, smoothing over your back with firm strokes.

You nestled against his chest, focusing on the sounds of his shallow breathing against your ear, slowing your tears.

“I’ll make you more than that.”

In The Bleak Midwinter

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,  Part 12 & Part 13

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mentions of death

Gif Credit: @peakymurphy​ & @peakyblinders1919​ Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!

Tag: If you want to be tagged let me know.

My Intent: Alright, I’m attempting to purge this from my soul. So this is sort of a hybrid. It’s first person, because I love how that makes it feel, but you are also a character, with a name and backstory. So hopefully you don’t hate it.

Also, it should be noted I love Grace and Tommy. So Grace will be held in high regard in this story. This story takes place in season 3, I think. And this is my first Peaky Blinders story, so go easy on me. I’m full newb.

My other stories are not forgotten, but this idea gave me no peace.

As the car takes the long drive up to the manor, you can hardly believe your eyes. 

It’s far bigger than anything you’ve seen in a long time, but you expect nothing less for Mr. Thomas Shelby.

The manor is a rich red color that reminds you of the clay that sticks to your boots after a heavy rain has washed away the top soil. 

The windows stare back you like blinking eyes - tall and plentiful, like gatekeepers for the secrets inside. 

With a grand stone archway entrance that announces you’ve arrived.  

It’s more than you ever hoped to offer Finn, compared to that tiny shoebox room you were squeezed in before in Small Heath. 

It’s quiet out here in the country too. No drunken men hollering in the streets, fornicating and fighting before your son’s eyes at every turn. 

The idea of working for Thomas Shelby is an intimidating one, as it should be, but it’s a chance for Finn. A chance for something more, so you had to take it.

Finn gawks in wonder as the car pulls up the drive. 

His jaw slack, eyes wide, and you have to tell him more than once to return to his seat while the car is still moving, as he fidgets about the vehicle in amazement at what’s before him. 

You catch the smile that edges at Polly’s face as she watches your son. And you get the sense you or Finn remind her of someone, someone she lost or maybe a former version of herself, and that’s why she’s extended this offer so graciously to you.

“Who’s this? Tommy said no more visitors.” A young woman asks as Polly leads you and Finn in through the entrance, ceiling so tall you have to crane your neck back to see the top.

With dark curly hair swaying around her shoulders, deep features, and fire in her eyes, surely, she’s a Shelby. 

And judging by the way she looks only a few years older than you, you guess she’s Thomas’s sister, Ada. 

You’ve heard of her too, you’ve heard of them all, but who hasn’t in these parts.

“I brought her here to help with Charlie, Ada. Tommy is going to need a hand.” Polly says with ease, as if she’s got it all already figured out. 

A beautiful woman for her age. With dark curly locks and skin pale like the full moon. There’s something bewitching about Polly’s eyes and the curl of her mouth that makes you think she knows everything, capable of anything, and probably both.

But the weary look Ada sends her way makes you feel less confident about the whole arrangement. Like maybe things aren’t as settled as Polly made them seem.

Turning your way, Ada looks you over. 

“And the boy?” She inquires with a tilt of her head, glancing at your son who stands nervously at your side, trying to look taller than his tender years.

“Her son.” Polly answers before you can.

That answer seems to soften Ada a bit. Her eyes easing off their edge as a small almost indiscernible smile curls at the corner of her mouth.

“A widow, good.” She says, mostly to herself. 

And the way she eyes you, as you stand silently hoping to be approved, you can see the idea of your loss eases something inside her.

“Very well, Tommy’s in the parlor.” You hear her say, as you turn back to Finn with the feel of his tug on the length of your coat.

Your eyes meet your boy’s baby blues as he gazes up at you as if he’s torn between sheer excitement and intimation being surrounded by all this.

“What’s a widow, mum?” His young voice asks you as he stays close around your legs.

Finn’s never seen a place like this and certainly never stepped foot inside one. 

You want things for your boy, good things, better than you have, but you’ve only ever been able to scrape by. 

But this is your chance to change all that, your chance to give him what you never could before.

“Your mum apparently.” You say with a small laugh, smiling down at him with reassurance as you pinch playfully at the apple of his cheek.

“This way,” You hear Polly say as you glance back up with the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floors. 

Taking Finn’s hand as your lead through the house. Deep mahogany walls greet you at every turn, ornately carved and shining. 

Beautiful things fill every space your eyes can reach. Things you’ve only seen in the pictures and could never imagine lying before you in full color.

Finn’s hand reaches out in curiosity before you quickly slap it away.

“Touch nothing.” You scold him gently as fear speeds up your heart. This place like one giant bomb, set anything off and this opportunity could blow up around you.

Entering the parlor, you take in the sight of the walls filled with books as you follow Polly near his desk. 

Mr. Shelby’s seated behind it, only glancing up as you approach. 

He eyes you, your eyes catching as you feel Finn dart behind your coat. You don’t look away, don’t blink, you’re not even sure you breathe, it feels like a test and you’ll be damned if you fail it.

Polly starts in, pulling his attention as you suck in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

He’s not as tall as you expected, Mr. Shelby. The myth larger than the man, but he has an energy about him. Bigger than life. Like a vortex, pulling all the energy from the room and pointing it squarely upon him. 

It’s in that moment you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Comin’ into the home of a man who’s just lost his wife, offerin’ to help with his now motherless child, the situation couldn’t be more bleak.

You try and smooth down Finn’s hair, drawing him out from behind you as Polly tries to seal the deal. Their words filling your ears as you turn back.

“Fuckin hell Pol, he has one. Just cause she’s- doesn’t mean-“ Mr. Shelby stumbles over his own words and you can see he’s growing agitated.

“I know, Tommy, I know, but you need help. Children require a lot of time. You have the business to think about and she needs a job. It solves both your problems.” Polly says diplomatically, and you get the sense she probably knows how to talk to him better than anyone.

“She looks weak, Pol. Skin and bone the best you can find.” He insults, his eyes surveying you briefly like an item he’s considering for purchase, but never meets your eyes.

It’s true, you could use a few pounds, but you’ve barely eaten. What little you have mostly goes to Finn. 

You take just enough to get by, keep going. You don’t have the luxuries of more, but circumstance hasn’t dampened your spirit. 

If anything, it’s made you more strong willed, you have no doubts what you’re fighting for.

“That may be, but I’m strong and good with children.” You speak up suddenly before Polly gets a chance and all eyes turn on you instantly. 

Polly looks surprised, but Mr. Shelby, his gaze is to vacant to warrant anything worth counting.

“We’ll see about that.” He answers before rising from his chair and calling for the help.

“Mary!” An old woman appears in the doorway behind you before Mr. Shelby summons her to retrieve his son. 

When she returns with the boy, Mr. Shelby is quick to take him. Holding him close as he walks over to you, his gaze cautious as he stands before you.

The boy is precious to say the least. With big round cheeks, sky blue eyes, and straight rust colored hair. 

He looks like his father, but the color reminds you of Finn’s when he was just a baby.

“Hi Charlie, I’m miss Fiona.” You tell him softly, smiling over at him as your fingertips dance along his hair, the apples of his cheeks, settling on his plump little hand as he wraps it around your finger.

You catch the little boy’s eyes on Finn with curiosity.

“This my son, Finn. He’s just a little older than you.” You tell him, explaining matters most would think are too advanced for a child of his age, but you always felt children understood far more than we gave them credit for.

Charlie glances back up at you and you greet him with a smile as you reach for him, praying he’ll trust you enough to let you hold him.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief when Charlie reaches for you in return and lets you pick him up. 

Placing him on your hip, you give him a gentle hug.

“Hello sweet boy.” You whisper into his hair as your hand runs down along it.

Charlie reaches for Finn and a smile breaks out wide on your face as Finn takes his hand, the boys enamored with each other.

Your face shoots back up to Mr. Shelby as he clears his throat. 

His eyes are hollow deep pits filled with raw madness that’s barely contained. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. 

Perhaps he hasn’t. You wouldn’t know, you don’t know this man, but you need this job, so you stare back into his eyes as if the sight of them didn’t break your heart.

“Alright then,” He says simply on a low gritty breath, giving his approval as he sparks a cigarette.

“But don’ touch anything in the house. Not a fuckin’ thing.” He practically spits out at you, his words shivering down your spine as you take it, because he isn’t the first man to send a blow your way.

“Mary prepare a room for Miss Fiona and her boy.” Mr. Shelby orders. And just like that, you’ve changed your son’s world.

 Mr. Shelby is cold and distant, and you expect nothing less of a man who’s lost his heart. So you keep your distance and attend to the little one. 

Charlie is easy to care for, easy to love. He’s sweet and joyful, and the boys have taken to each other easily. 

The only hardship is the way he breaks your heart every time he calls for his mum. You wish you knew her. Knew how to bring her to life for him.

The house is bigger than any you’ve ever stayed in, but still Mr. Shelby and his moods manage to find you even inside these many rooms. 

You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Not after the way you heard his family talking about his current state earlier in the morning. 

But still, the way he comes at you, almost as if on attack, as if he needs to bite at something to lick his own wounds, and you’re the nearest one in sight, takes even you by surprise.

You’re preparing a picnic for the children since the sun has decided to come out from its hiding place, when Mr. Shelby thinks it’s time to a have a word.

“I asked around about yeah…” He starts as he appears suddenly, standing across from you in the white tiled kitchen. 

You’re unsure if his interlude is supposed to stir a response, but you pay it no mind, barely glancing over his way as you await him to continue.

“Thought I hired a good catholic widow.” He says, his words low and full of innuendo as he pulls at a cigarette on his lips.

Your hands settle from the basket you’re tending to and offer him the undivided attention he seems insistent on having.

“I am a good catholic.” You tell him, looking him square in the eye, unflinching, because you’ve heard worse, from worse and you decided long ago others weren’t going to define you.

“Aye, a good fucking catholic girl who got herself pregnant outside of marriage.” He says, with that unflinching stare you can sense has a way of riling people up.

And it’s good, he’s good at pushing all the right buttons, because the indignant way he speaks to you easily serves its purpose and instantly you’re defensive of his claim.

“He loved me.” You defiantly tell him and anyone else who will listen. 

How dare he take the moral high ground. He may have friends, and those with loose lips who are quick to pass judgement upon you, but you’re no fool to Mr. Shelby’s doings either. 

You know about the Peak Blinders, everyone in these parts does. How dare he think he has a leg to stand on talking to you about morality.

“That why he ran off to the war stead of makin’ an honest woman of you?” He carries on, undiminished by the fire on your tongue. 

And you know you should shut up, leave it be. This man has given you a job, given you and your child room and board, food in your bellies, living in a place far more grand than any you ever could have imagined. But even now, all these years later, you can’t rest when others presume to know how your son came to be a bastard, as they are so quick to call him to your face and behind your back.

“He didn’t know about the baby and when I sent word, he gave me his. Even from the pits of hell over there he promised we’d marry once he came home, but he never made it back. Swallowed up like the rest of ‘em to slaughter.” Tears biting at your eyes as you push them down and tighten your jaw.

“So you Mr. Shelby, you and all the others, you know nothing of it. Not a thing.” You unleash upon him. 

You know the sins you committed. Know the price you and your son will pay for the rest of your lives, but you weren’t some foolish girl who got taken for a ride. And you’re tired of the world pretending as if you were.

Mr. Shelby’s goes silent with your confession, his face expressionless, but his eyes hold upon you, steady with you. 

You get the sense you’ve taken him by surprise. Maybe he wasn’t expecting such a fervent response, maybe he didn’t think you had fire in your belly, or maybe what Polly had told you was true, he knows a little something about the prices of war. 

Whatever the reason, Mr. Shelby doesn’t speak again and as your burners cool, you begin to feel the need to backtrack before you ruin a good thing for your son.

“I apologize Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” You say formally, cordially, albeit forced, before you scoop up the biscuits and jam, placing them into the open basket resting on the butcher block before you.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking the children for a picnic while the weather still permits.” You say softly before making a hasty escape.

You’re nearly free, basket in hand, eyes staying steady down around your hands as you try to slip past him, but his arm drops down, blocking your passage, and you’re forced to look up at him, awaiting his word.

In your short time there you’ve learned Mr. Shelby has a way of taking up space, filling even the largest of rooms when he stands in them. 

You find Mr. Shelby’s gaze waiting for you, and you brace yourself for the repercussion of your quick temper, but they never come.

“I didn’t…” He starts, his words stalling as he pulls at the cigarette on his lips.

You can feel he’s struggling, fighting with an apology of some sort. So you set him free.

“No need. You’re entitled to your opinions, Mr. Shelby. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my son. Given me a job in all.” You say, the blue of his eyes holding you captive. 

The depth of them like a pit that could swallow you up if you stand too close to its edge.

“Charlie likes you.” He notes on a long breath, his words easing the tension thick between you.

“And I adore him.” You say simply.

Your answer pleases him and seems to diffuse the moment as he offers you a quick nod and lets you pass.

Blind Date Masterlist

Modern Thomas Shelby

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98

The Lockdown Sessions - Masterlist

Back to main masterlist

Summary

This is a window into the life of Cillian Murphy, actor, husband, and divorced father of two, currently cooped up at home due to the global pandemic. Join me as we explore the exploits of he and his wife (Y/N insert) as they navigate the ups and downs of life through lockdown. Expect tooth-rotting fluff, occasional angst and a fair smattering of downright filth.

FYI, this story doesn’t follow a set timeline, we’ll jump around the pandemic and our couple’s background depending on the scene. Chapters don’t generally flow from one to the other unless clearly marked (such as Parts 3 & 4) but where appropriate I’ll reference things from earlier chapters so it makes sense to read these in order.

Stories marked 🔞 contain smut and/or adult themes. Stories with 💯 were inspired by my 100 followers celebration.

A note about feedback

Story

Part 1: Caramel

Part 2: Paddling Pool 🔞

Part 3: Enough - Pt. 1

Part 4: Enough - Pt. 2 🔞

Part 5: Zombies

Part 6: Silk 🔞

Part 7: Day One 🔞 (for pandemic themes)

Part 8: Clippers 🔞

Part 9: Silent Treatment 🔞

Part 10: Game Night 💯

Part 11: Crash

Part 12: Beach 🔞

Part 13: Three Chance Encounters - Summer 1997, Pt. 1

Part 14: Three Chance Encounters - Summer 1997, Pt. 2

Part 15: Three Chance Encounters - Summer 1997, Pt. 3 🔞

Part 16: Three Chance Encounters - Summer 2006, Pt. 1

Part 17: Three Chance Encounters- Summer 2006, Pt. 2

Part 18: Sleep Story 🔞

Part 19: Three Chance Encounters - February 2014, Pt. 1 🔞

Shorts

These are oneshots or blurbs involving the same pairing as Lockdown, but not strictly part of the series.

Strangers 🔞

Movie Night 🔞

Blanket 💯

Unexpected

Breakfast 💯

Emergency Tacos 💯

Distraction 💯🔞

Breakfast With Tiffany’s

Fireworks 🔞

A Misunderstanding 💯

Petals 🔞

Premier 🔞

Moodboards and other bits

Cillian’s camera roll

Snowy dog walk

Three Chance Encounters - Summer 1997

Three Chance Encounters - Summer 2006

💋 Kiss and Tell - lockdown twist 🔞