Peaky Blinders One Shots and Imagines (Reader Insert)

Hard to Handle (Shelby Brothers x Sibling Reader)

The reader is confronted by her brothers after sneaking into the house after a night on the town.

Word count: 1178

Warnings: Foul-mouthed manipulative reader, and swearing brothers.

A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

Honestly, life was pretty good as the youngest sister of the Shelby brothers. Born just a couple of years after the turn of the century, you were just the right age to take advantage of all the perks that came with their status as the leaders of the Peaky Blinders. Everyone in Small Heath and its surrounds knew better than to mess with any single member of the Shelby clan, and it was this unspoken rule that gave you a certain cockiness and confidence, leaving you rather hard to handle.

Even your brothers and Aunt Pol struggled to keep you in line because you knew when push came to shove they would always have your back, no matter the amount of trouble you got yourself into. And so, you really did take full advantage. You all but demanded special treatment. Your wardrobe was full of the latest fashions, your hair was always styled to perfection, the soles of your shoes barely showed any signs of wear and the numerous evenings spent out were always flowing with drinks from the very top shelf. All of it coming without a single penny ever leaving the designer tote hanging from your arm.


But all that didn't mean you were an absolute monster, you did possess a number of redeeming qualities. Yes, you were wild and stubborn and well known for your rebellious and sometimes even rude nature. But you could also be kind and thoughtful when people least expected it, and a great number of families around Small Heath benefitted from this lesser-known side of you. It was not unusual for you to have someone slip an envelope of cash under a young mother's front door, to find upon returning home after burying their husband. Or to anonymously arrange a job for a father who was struggling to earn a wage to feed his growing family, or secretly pay the hospital fees of a sick child whose family was unable to meet the costs. And maybe it was this side of you that made it difficult for your family to ever really come down hard on you. Besides, they knew too, that as much as they would always come to your defence, you would also not hesitate coming to theirs, if ever the need arose.


Really, you wondered how they still had the patience to even try and keep you under control anymore. You thought they would have given up by now, but here you were again, standing at the bottom of the stairs, your ears copping an audible beating from Tommy, as Arthur and John shook their heads in disapproval at you.


Even in your inebriated state, you managed to sneak through the front door with stealth, probably because you had done it a million times before, but it made no difference. Quietly fuming, Tommy waited on the other side, cigarette in hand, ready to fire his usual lecture at you, "Y/N, It's fucking 3 am in the morning, this has got to stop. You can't be out to all hours unchaperoned. It's not safe. And people are starting to talk."

Walking to the base of the stairs, you grabbed the bannister to steady your swaying form, defiance rolling off your tongue, your words surprisingly coherent considering your drunken state, "When have I ever cared what people think about me... and who in hell is ever going to lay a finger on me when you three would come knocking on there door... They'd have to be fucking dumb pricks."


Tommy sighed in exasperation, "The world is full of fucking dumb pricks, Y/N. And you only have to come across one of them." Standing up, he stepped towards you, "I saw you tonight, you know. Drunk and all over Isaiah... you looked like a whore, I had to stop Arthur from marching in there and beating up the poor boy."


Looking at your eldest brother, you could see how tense he was, and you felt just a tinge of regret. You were pigheaded and rebellious but you hated the thought of triggering one of Arthur's uncontrollable rages, nor did you want someone being beaten within an inch of their life because of your carnal urges. But stubbornly, you refused to show it, "Why should I care about my reputation when you're only going to marry me off to some fucking gang leader... to seal some bloody deal for your own benefit." Your voice was getting loud now, taking a step towards him, "I'm not fucking deaf Tommy, I've heard the rumours... Why should I enter some loveless bloody marriage without having a bit of fun first?" Taking a stagger back, your voice twisted with sarcasm, "Maybe with a bit of luck they'll hear about my whorish ways and decline your offer."


All three brothers stood silent in surprise. Arthur and John, because neither of them had heard a thing about any such arrangement. And Tommy, well, he was taken aback because he had not breathed a word of it to anyone, not even Aunt Pol, leaving him confused and rather riled as to how you found out.


John turned to his brother, his face bewildered, "Who to, Tommy...? You can't marry her off... Why wouldn't you tell us?"


Before he could answer, Arthur had a few choice words of his own to offer, "Is this fucking true, Tommy?"


Truth be known, you actually didn't care. You found out some time ago about Tommy's little arrangement, and honestly, you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little pleased about it. In fact, you had always had a bit of a crush on the man. And although you knew your husband to be, was hardly a law-abiding citizen, you knew Tommy would never marry you off to a monster, at least not a monster that would cause you any harm.


But you weren't about to let that little cat out of the bag, because right now you had the upper hand, creating the perfect opportunity to deflect the whole confrontation away from yourself. And maybe if you played your cards right you could keep using this little nugget of information to your advantage. An excuse to rebel and live your life however the hell you wanted, until the day you walked through the church doors all dressed up in pure white.


Stepping back towards the stairs, you watched as a heated debate began unfolding before you, your last-minute ploy to turn the tables, executed perfectly. And just to throw a little more fire Tommy's way; one, because he could handle it, and two, because he deserved it, you added, "God Tommy, you think you can just run all of our lives, don't you... Well, don't think I'm going to let you run mine anymore."


Completely defeated, Tommy knew the lecture was over before it again. Shaking his head, he watched you escape up the stairs, leaving him to deal with the little drama you so expertly created with his brothers, and said, "Y/N... When have you ever let me run your life?"