Imagines For Me & You

Revolver: Isaiah Jesus - Peaky Blinders

A/N: TW - racism and the n-word. Sorry.
Anyway, I don't feel like there are enough POC imagines for the Peaky Blinders in general. So here's one.

You sipped on your drink, a whiskey on the rocks, at some pub in Small Heath, Birmingham. It was, quaint. You couldn't even remember the name of the place. There weren't a lot of people around. Most of the alcoholics were likely in the Garrison Tavern on the other side of Small Heath.

You scowled as a man walked over. "A pretty little lady like you shouldn't be wearing a suit like that," he said.

Paying him no mind you sipped on your drink. Tight-nit dark brown curls had been bunched up into an elegant ponytail. Your dark red tie contrasted with the light tan blazer, vest, and trousers. It wasn't an ugly contrast but it was still a contrast. A simple off-white formal shirt complimented both. A navy blue handkerchief with red polka dots poked from your blazer's pocket. Another contrast.

The man quickly moved on when he realized that he wouldn't be getting anything out of you.

Someone else, a man much drunker than the previous, walked behind you at the bar.

"Fucking nigger," he muttered.

You gripped your glass and kept from smashing it against his head. You were keenly aware of the six-piece in your blazer.

The man leaned over you and said, "Fucking nigger."

You swivelled around. "Your breath stinks," you said.

"You fucking nigger whore," he said. His voice rose slightly. The man was most certainly drunk as he slurred and stumbled.

Another man, one much younger and darker than the white one in front of you, winced. He was sitting at a table behind you. Throughout the night, he had kept looking at you every once and a while. You could feel his eyes on you.

Standing, you pulled out your gun and pressed it to the man's head. "Yeah, a fucking nigger whore with a gun and an itchy trigger finger."

The white man backed away, eyes wide with fear. The black man snickered at the scene that unfolded before him.

"You should probably leave the young lady alone, she looks serious," he said.

The white man took a big gulp of air before stumbling off, almost falling into the door on his way out.

You proudly smirked, uncocking the gun and placing it back in your blazer. The man that had chirped up made his way over to you with his drink. You turned back to the bar and took another sip of your drink. He sat beside you.

"You sound like you're not from around here, miss."

You looked over at him. He had lighter skin and soulful brown eyes.

"I'm not."

"I'm Isaiah."

"Y/N."

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How good you are in bed."