Peaky Blinders Imagines.

•Shelby Brothers•

AN: So this one was requested by @AnnieK400 I hope this is how you wanted it! xx

It's a late autumn afternoon when your train begins to pull into Birmingham station. Rustic countryside full of deep blood orange and muddy brown hues soon turns into churning greys and sooty buildings. You watch the gradual change with hope and anticipation.

You've been sent far away from your home in Belfast. Sent far away from the rolling green hills and winding streams of your beloved Ireland. Except, it's not how you remember it anymore. It's not close-knit communities and happy people as it was as a child; it's warring factions of a religion not worth the poor souls who believe in it. Streets are trenches for the IRA, civilians worthless canon fodder in a war that will never be won. Such a waste of precious life.

It's due to the spiralling inferno back home that your mother took the decision to send you to your uncle Harry. You'll be staying with him for as long as it takes for Ireland to become safe again, maybe you'll never return. Although it breaks your heart in a way, you know that you have to try and make a new life for yourself here- one your mother would be proud of.

•

You step off the train and look around for your uncle, however, the platform is busy and you struggle to see beyond the people in front of you.

"Y/N!" A voice calls from somewhere in the bustling crowds of people, you instinctively begin to head in the direction of the voice, shoving your way through the endless mass of people until a familiar face comes into view. You're enveloped in a hug by Harry, "Oh my! You've grown so much since I last saw you!" He chuckles as you roll your eyes at him, "it's nice to see you too Harry, I think it'd be a little weird if I hadn't grown since I was 8" you joke with him.

•

You walk into the pub you'd rarely seen as a child, remembering how often you were told that it was no place for a child to be hanging around in. You also remember all the times you'd sneak down anyways. You breath in the deeply ingrained scent of alcohol and cigarettes that seems to cling to every fibre of the place. Somehow it smells of home.

"This place really hasn't changed at all" you mutter to yourself, Harry chuckles at this, "well, if it ain't broken, you don't fix it".  You smile at the typical reply from your uncle, shifting towards the door at the back of the pub. "I better go get myself unpacked then hadn't I? It won't be long before you're opening up" you state, Harry smiles and nods, letting you go upstairs to unpack.

•

You come down into the pub, now bustling with life as punters flood through the doors after a long day of hard work. You take a place behind the bar, beginning to serve a couple of the men waiting patiently. "What are you doing?" Harry asks as he approaches from the other side of the bar, you raise an eyebrow at him, thinking the answer is rather obvious. "Serving people, you didn't think I'd come here and do nothing did you?" You question sassily, he thinks for a moment, knowing from his sister's letters that you'd become a tough young woman, perfectly capable of handling yourself. "Well, if you think you can handle this rowdy bunch, then go ahead" he shrugs his shoulders, knowing that it's not worth the argument you'd inevitably come back with.

You smile at him, satisfied that you've got your own way. Turning back to serve the next group of men, you can't help but hear the hushed conversations bubbling around about some gang called the Peaky Blinders. Your curiosity grows with every snippet of information that you manage to catch, wondering if you'll ever stumble across this mysteriously endearing group.

You've just taken the money from one of the customers when the doors to the pub open, and as if on cue, the whole atmosphere of the place changes. Everyone becomes quieter, their eyes failing to meet those of whoever has entered.

You turn to see what, or more who, has caused such a change. Your eyes fall upon a group of men, their menacing manner making your curiosity peak. These men must be some of the 'Peaky Blinders' you'd heard about. As you subtly let your eyes scan over the four men that had entered, you can't help but think they are incredibly attractive. The air of danger that lingers around them like some kind of spell that pulls you towards them.

"A bottle of whiskey and a pint of stout" the gruff voice of the man with piercing sapphire eyes slices through the hush in the pub, his words clearly aimed at Harry, as you remain out of the sight of these men. Without another word they begin to move towards the side room in the pub, but you can't help but speak up at the rudeness of the command. "Would it hurt you to say please?" Your sassy purr stops the four men in their tracks, they turn to look at you as you step into their view, a hand resting sassily on your hip as you raise an eyebrow. Harry is frozen, wishing you'd just kept quiet, not knowing how they're going to react to such disrespect.

"Pardon?" The blue eyed man grunts, seemingly the ringleader of the group, you step forward, "I said I'll serve you your drinks when you learn to use your manners" you snap back, not caring how attractive any of them are, or about the clear power they have. It's an agonisingly intense moment for everyone in the pub as you stare down this group of men, refusing to back off. "Please" the ringleader finally relents, making a satisfied smile break out on your lips, the sight only makes the group find you more attractive than they did upon first seeing you.

You turn back to the bar, getting their drinks ready as they finally slip away into the side room. "That was a foolish move Y/N, have you not heard the men in here talk about them?" Harry speaks through gritted teeth as you gather the drinks on a tray, you look sidelong at him, unimpressed by his reprimand. "Do you not think I've seen worse? Known worse? The IRA men I've come into contact with make them look like a bunch of kittens, so don't lecture me" you reply shortly, the strain in your voice making your uncle back down.

You strut around to the other side of the bar, the tray of drinks balancing on one hand. You open the door to the room, slipping in to find the group staring at you already. With a smile on your face you begin to place the drink on the centre table. "Ey boys, service with a smile! And what a smile that is, manners really do get yah places!" the oldest of the men cheers making you laugh a little, "I almost didn't think that you motley lot even knew what manners were" you reply jokingly, mesmerising the group with your stunning looks and sharp personality.

Before you had entered, you were the topic of conversation, making the boys bicker about who would win over the angelic lady with a fiery temper. Bets had been placed, now all they had to do was get to know you.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in this grubby old joint?" One of them speaks, his soft smirk  making your cheeks flush slightly, "this pretty little thing is the niece of the owner, and as for why, there a some tales better off not told" you dodge the question with ease, making the piercing blue eyes of the man you'd originally come into contact with you raise an eyebrow- but he says nothing. "There is no way you are related to Harry! You're damn fineee" the youngest of the group, and seemingly the most tame remarks, making you giggle.

"What's your name?" The ringleader asks as he takes a drag off his cigarette, you look at him, feeling his assessing gaze burning into your soul. "The name's Y/N, what are yours?" You aim the question at the entire group, "pretty name for a pretty girl. I'm Tommy, that's Arthur, John and Micheal" the man you now know as Tommy speaks, pointing to each of them. "Well it's nice to meet you boys, not so scary after all are yah?" You smile, turning to leave.

"Why don't you stay for a drink?" Micheal chirps up, the hope in his eyes melting your heart, you smile as the redness in your cheeks deepens, this young man making you feel all kinds of ways. "I guess I'm due a break..." you sit down beside Micheal, Arthur quick to pour you a drink. "I hope you can handle the whiskey" his gravelly voice challenges, you smirk at the group, knowing that you've entered a whole new world of trouble.

"Oh you bet"