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#Michael gray x reader
warnersister · 2 months
Text
Peaky blinders headcannon ->
“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”
Find the request here
Tommy🪖
🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.
🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.
🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”
🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?
🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.
🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.
🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.
🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”
🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?
🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.
🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.
🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.
🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”
🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.
🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.
🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.
🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.
Arthur🍺
🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.
🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.
🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.
🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.
🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.
🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.
🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.
🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”
🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.
John🥃
🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.
🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.
🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”
🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.
🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.
🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.
🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.
🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.
🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.
🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.
🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”
🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.
🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.
🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.
🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.
Isaiah♟️
♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.
♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.
♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?
♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.
♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.
♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.
♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.
♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.
♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.
Michael🎱
🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.
🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.
🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.
🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.
🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.
🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”
Finn🎞️
🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.
🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.
🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.
🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.
🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.
🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.
🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.
🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.
🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”
🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.
🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.
🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.
🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.
🎞️“Nice.”
655 notes · View notes
coquettexnightz · 2 months
Text
| Innocent Enemy |
Finn Shelby X Oswald Mosleys daughter!Reader
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( WARNING: 18+ content, Raw sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink, enemies to lovers, innocent! Reader, mean! Finn, exhibition kink, cream-pie, getting caught, superiority complex, barely a hint of Michael Gray, etc. )
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Finn only hated the girl because he was told to. She was barely younger than him, only by a couple of months, but she was Oswald Mosleys daughter. So, she was not exactly an enemy in public. She was more of a foe, especially when she was catching on to Tommy Shelby’s plan.
But despite his hate for her, he grew jealous as he watched his cousin, Michael Gray, trap her in a corner with a smirk on his face. He curled a piece of her hair around his finger, blowing his cigarette smoke above her head.
She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, because Michael Gray was undeniably good looking. But there was two problems. One, he was married. And two? Well, Y/n hated to admit it…but she was sweet on Finn Shelby, the youngest Shelby brother. Her favorite. Even if he acted like he hated her.
But where did it all start? Well—
Finn had come into his brothers house late, drunk. Not noticing that Tommy was currently in a tense meeting with Sir Oswald Mosley.
Fortunately, he didn’t bother them at all. Only— Mosley’s teenage daughter. Who was sitting on the couch, one leg propped up on the couch, her knee pressed against her chest. Her heels long gone to wherever she had kicked them.
Finn stood in the doorway, leaning on it as he stared at her in silence. Her head was laid onto the head of the choice, making Finn want to walk up and wrap his hand around her thin throat.
Y/n was extremely tired, she had been waiting almost an hour for her dear father to end the meeting. She only came because she believed it would be quick, as all of his other meetings with the Shelby’s typically were.
Now, this particular occurrence was before the attempted assassination on Sir Mosley.
“Tired?” Finn spoke up with a smirk, sticking his hands in his pockets. Y/n slowly looked forward, taking her head off of the couch. She simply stared at him, her hair slightly falling into her tired, pouty face. “It ain’t safe to fall asleep here…y’never know what someone may do to someone like you.” Finn spoke mischievously.
Y/n sighed tiredly, rubbing her face gently. She dropped her leg back down onto the couch, her legs parting, “Someone like me? Is that supposed to be an insult, Mr. Shelby?” She mumbled, her eyes closed as she dropped her head back onto the couch. “I do believe I am quite the good girl. My Daddy says so many times per day.” She hummed with her eyes remaining closed.
This particular act had shown Finn that she was not afraid of him, which made him angry. He clenched his jaw and began making quick but quiet strides over to her. Why do his brothers get to have all of the fun? He thought.
Y/n had yet to notice him, only opening her eyes out of shock when he forced his knee in between her thighs. “Hey!—,” She began, almost catching the attention of her father who was just in the other room.
But Finn lunged forward, too drunk for his own good as he gently but firmly gripped her jaw and tilting her head upward to stare into his darkened eyes. “Yer cute…acting as if you aren��t afraid of me.” Finn laughed bitterly.
She pouted, “I’m not.” She replied with no hesitation.
Finn breathed outward deeply from his nose, “I could shoot you right now, I could do anything I see fit to you. You’re just a small, little…spoiled posh girl.”
Y/n brought her smaller hand up to hold softly onto Finns wrist, “So are you. We’re the same.” She whispered sweetly. “We are both children of God, are we not?” She spoke so innocently, making Finn bite his lip and loll his neck.
And that was their first impressions on each other.
Now, they were once again at Tommy’s house. Michael only being there for the meeting with Tommy, Arthur, and Oswald Mosley.
Oswald had picked Y/n up from her Catholic private school just fifteen minutes before their arrival. Her uniform had long dried by then but her hair was still damp and lying in her face.
Making her more attractive as she stared nervously up at Michael through her eyelashes. Michael glanced over his shoulder and sent Finn a smirk, causing the younger boy to come storming over.
Michael at least expected for his cousin to say something, but Finn only slid his hand through the small gap in between their bodies and grabbed Y/n’s wrist.
Y/n made no attempt to pull away from Finn, simply letting him drag her down the halls and up the stairs of Tommy’s manor. She didn’t even question him as he pulled her into a bedroom, but not just any bedroom. Tommy’s bedroom.
Finn didn’t bother to lock the door, dragging her toward the bed and giving her a gentle shove. She fell on her butt, onto the edge of the bed. She stared at up Finn blankly, her hands conveniently placed perfectly in her lap.
Meanwhile, Finn knew nothing of Personal space, standing so, very close to Y/n. So close that his crotch was almost in her face, but if the seemingly innocent girl had noticed, she sure hadn’t made any indication that she did.
“Yes, Finn?” Her voice came out so softly that Finn couldn’t resist the urge to pick her up and toss her higher onto the bed.
She yelped in surprise as he did just that, Finn crawling toward her. Subconsciously, she spread her legs for him, making him smirk. “Mm…Already so obedient, eh?” He teased, placing his hands on her knees.
Y/n remained silent, staring up at him with doe eyes as he slowly slid his hands down the soft skin of her legs until he reached her ankles.
Finn placed his legs on her own, keeping her pinned down onto the bed by her lower half. Finn took it upon himself to grab the hem of her dark, plaid school skirt and slide it up her legs. Revealing a short, ruffly under skirt, matching with white garters that had a bow on the back of each.
Finn groaned, “You wear this to school?” He wondered, leaning down and rubbing his nose softly against the sensitive skin of her neck.
Y/n shivered slightly, nodding with a pout, “Daddy bought a whole set of ‘em for me.” She mumbled, embarrassed.
“Course’ he did.” Finn chuckled in response. “I hate to say it but— it’s time to take them off for the day.” He spoke huskily, his fingers working to unbuckle the garters.
Once he had successfully done so, he ever so slowly rolled each sheer sock like tights down her legs. Throwing each across the room before moving his hands up to the hem of her skirt. He held in a laugh when he realized the zipper was on the back.
He gave her no warning, lifting his body weight off of her before speedily flipping her onto her stomach. He stood on his knees, quickly unzipping her skirt and pulling it down her butt, along with her cotton panties.
“Fuck, can already see how soaking you are, Love.” Finn licked his lips, placing one hand on the small of her back, slipping his hand into her light pinkish white blouse.
“Finny?” Y/n breathed out, resting her cheek on her crossed arms. Finn only hummed in response, moving to flip her over for the last time in order to unbutton her thin blouse. “I am a virgin.”
Finn looked into her eyes, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “I’ve known.” He informed her lowly as he unbuttoned each button leisurely. His free hand running through her now dry, soft hair.
Once the two teens were fully undressed, lying together as if they were a puzzle, Finn promised himself that he would make Y/n cry. If she had yet to be afraid of him, then he’d use his power in this situation to make her cry and beg. That way, he could imagine that she was practically terrified of him.
“So much for being Daddy’s good little girl, right? Now? You’re my little girl.” Finn whispered contently as he sucked and licked her neck. Y/n let out a moan as Finn grabbed his cock, rubbing his tip in between her sticky, virgin folds. “I’ve never ‘ad a virgin.” Finn mumbled against her swollen and bitten lips. “S’gonna hurt.”
But he gave her no time to process this, very slowly pushing in, inch by inch. A sly grin was plastered on his face as she began whimpering in pain, her eyes tearing up. “Finn, it hurts.” She began to cry, leaning up off of the mattress, sliding her arms around his neck.
“I told you it would, Silly girl.” He teased quietly, his eyes slightly rolling back as he bottomed out. “Fuck.” He tried his damndest to stay in place, but as Y/n wriggled below him, he wanted so badly to slam into her repeatedly.
Y/n gasped, “Move, move. Please, Finn.” She spoke desperately all of a sudden, catching Finn off guard.
Finn didn’t need to be told twice, slowly pulling out, looking down to be met with his blood coated cock. He gripped the fat of her hips as he thrusted into her tight, hot walls. “You’re so tight. But so dirty, letting Daddy fuck you in a gangsters bed.” Finn chuckled, Y/n crying out and trying her best to pull him closer to her.
“M’sorry— just…please? Please go faster?” She begged hopelessly, her hand moving up to his hair.
Finn did just that, his hips slamming into hers. If anyone were to stand outside of the room, they’d hear the mutual moans and cries from both parties, along with the wet squelching and slapping of skin.
It was so lewd. So nasty. So risky. How could she lose her cherished virginity to a Peaky Blinder Gypsy and let her maidenhead blood bleed out onto the white sheets of the boss’ bed.
Y/n knew it was a sin, but she couldn’t help it. It felt too good as Finn slammed into her. Finn let out a louder, deeper moan, still thrusting in but slightly slower now as his hands flew down to Y/n’s plush thighs. He gripped them, practically throwing her legs around his waist.
Due to the lack of stability, Y/n’s body was sliding up and down the bed.
“Feels s’good!” Y/n cried out, accompanied by Finns even louder and careless moans. Neither seemed to realize that everyone in the house could hear them from all the way upstairs.
“Yeah?” Finn softly spoke. “It’d feel even better if I came deep, deep into your little tummy. Filling you with Shelby babies? Gypsy babies. Would you like that?” Finn cooed, sliding his hand under her body. His hand splayed out on the middle of her back, pulling her upward so that they could be chest to chest as the two grew closer and closer.
“Yes, yes.” Y/n nodded blissfully, not even understanding what was going on. “Fill me, Finny.”
“Oh, I will. Then when you swell up with my baby, you’ll have to marry me. No matter what happens.” Finn grinned widely, cutting himself off with an unexpected groan as Y/n clenched on him. “She’s practically sucking me in, Love. Just asking to be fed.”
As they neared, so did Mosley and Tommy. Curious as to where the yells and cries were coming from.
Y/n wrapped her arms tightly around Finns neck as he slowed his pace. He slowly pushed in and out of her, one arm wrapped around her back, his other free hand cradling her head in order to keep in the crook of his neck.
“I can feel how close you are, just let it go. Then I will too, and you’ll be full to the brim with my babies.” Finn whispered, placing endless kisses to the side of her head, rubbing the back of her head with his thumb.
Y/n nodded, her jaw slack as she rested her almost limp head on Finn’s.
Finn sped up in his last few seconds worth of thrusts. And just as both teens felt their climax come flying forward, the bedroom door flew open. For Mosley had thought that someone was hurting his sweet little girl, judging by the cries that were heard from just outside the door.
But as him and Tommy stopped midway through the room, their eyes landed on Finn and Y/n. Bare naked, not even bothering to cover up with the sheets as they fucked.
The two noticed the older men immediately, and despite their embarrassment, Finn couldn’t seem to stop his hips from moving. Riding out their highs as tears flowed down Y/n’s cheeks. Finn focusing on pushing his cum deep into her womb.
“Well…it seems as if we may need to arrange a ceremony?” Mosley began with a smirk as the teens settled down. Tommy glared at Mosley for a short second, making the man shrug. “What? I can’t let people think my daughter’s innocence was taken before her wedding night.” Mosley snickered happily.
420 notes · View notes
pacifymebby · 10 months
Note
Bonjour daddy 😉 can I request the peaky boys with cuddling? Like who’s the big spoon, which positions who’s the most cuddly etc.. me has gotten her period so I’m feeling all 🙍🏼‍♀️
Hahaha a total side note, i made that same joke to b and he just smirked like, if thats what you'd like to believe I won't ruin ur moment haha
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Tommy
🌿 Is very big on the standing up cuddle, opening his arms up to you and holding you nice and snug against his body, wrapping his arms right around you, one hand stroking through your hair or cradling the back of your head.
🌿Will rest his chin on top of yours, kiss your parting and close his eyes, breathing in your scent
🌿Is a very doomed man and is always lowkey aware that every hug could be the last time he gets to hold his angel so every hug is savoured. He focuses on memorising exactly how he feels in the moment he's holding you, every detail filed away in his memory.
🌿He likes to be big spoon, but more than that he likes to lie on his back with your body on top of his.
🌿Drawing patterns down your back quietly, again trying to remember every detail. Obsessed with the sensation of your light restful breaths tickling his bare chest
🌿Loves the skin on skin feeling, always chasing purity in love and it makes him feel so connected to you, so intimate.
🌿 When you're on your period he recognises the change in your temper and is very careful with you, he will try not to snap at you or show any sign of irritation because he's aware how easily wounded you are... He makes sure to hug you and hold you even more than usual
🌿Modern! Tommy would make sure you had a hot waterbottle and all the blankets you needed, get you cosy in bed or on the sofa in front of the tv to watch your favourite movie. He'll humour whatever trash you want to watch and lie there behind you, kissing you and playing with your hair, more focussed on you than the tv.
Alfie
🐻 Big spoon always because he just wants to hold you, wants to be able to put his hands wherever he likes.
🐻 Likes to hold you in sexual places in a non-sexual way. What I mean by this is that if you're little spoon he'll hold one of your breasts in his hand, but just that, simply holding it just because he can... And not because he wants anything more than just to hold you
🐻 Also likes to tickle you on purpose with his beard, his stubble brushing your cheek or your neck, making you giggle and squirm rousing you from your sleep for just long enough he can ask for a kiss.
🐻 His favourite place to cuddle with you however is in a rocking chair by the fire, you bundled up in his lap under a blanket, him holding you safe and snug, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. You're the most precious thing in the world to him so he likes to have you bundled up in his arms at any opportunity.
🐻 You could be busy around the house talking to him about your day or mithering and worrying, or asking him about business and he will refuse to talk to you about any of it until you've gone and sat down in his lap. He'll pat his thigh and open his arms for you, "now now zieskiet, whatve I told you eh, if you're gonna come home talkin me poor old ears off about that nonsense you've at least got to let me hold my little girl whilst I listen eh... Take pity on your old man yeah poppet?"
🐻 Very possesive, can't keep his hands off you ever so when you're cuddling he's constantly rubbing his palms over your arms, or holding your thigh, always doing little things to let you know he's there, that youre all his and he's got you.
🐻 Gives big squeezy bear hugs holds onto you so tight, keeps your face burried into his chest, blocks out the rest of the world so that all you can feel his him all around you.
🐻 Alfie's too old to be immature about your period and if anything he feels a little sorry for you, he doesnt like that he can't do much to help you but he always makes sure he's very gentle with you. Even more doting than usual.
🐻 Gives the best belly rubs, like he ubderstands that you need to do more than just rub your hands lightly over your tummy. He'll rub his hands together to heat them up first and then gently massage you until you're feeling a little better.
🐻 Modern Alfie wouldn't be embarrassed about going to shops to get your pads but he also wouldn't be going... He'd be sending Ollie so that you and him could have a good laugh at Ollie expense.
Arthur
🍂 Doesn't realise until one day you climb into bed after him and make yourself big spoon, wrapping your body around his, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing down the bumps of his spine, kissing his shoulder too, but he loves being little spoon.
🍂 It makes him feel so safe and loved, makes him feel cherished which is a very new feeling for him, not one he's ever experienced in adult life.
🍂 He loves being able to close his eyes and feel your fingers scratching and massaging his head. You like stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw where his stubble is.
🍂 He doesnt admit that he loves this for a long time though, and you never ask about it because you know that if you do he'll get embarassed and deny it and then potentially never let you hold him again.
🍂Feels almost ashamed that he likes it because he's the man, so isn't he supposed to be the one making you feel loved and cherished and safe?
🍂 Blushes when you prop yourself up on your elbow looking down at him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
🍂Will fall asleepy like that so quickly because its the safest he's ever felt.
🍂 He will however insist upon being big spoon at certain times of the month or when youre feeling unwell. He won't know how to deal with your period at all, he'll only know that youre more argumentative and that he has to be careful not to start a fight with you...
🍂 Doesnt like seeing you cry and you cry at everything when youre on your period so he will spend a lot of time hugging you close to him so that no one can see your tears. Leaves those long held kisses in your hair and you feel protected by him for as long as his lips remain pressed to your head.
🍂 Modern Arthur definitely gets embarassed about having to go to the shops for period pads, like, he definitely panics doesnt know what to buy, goes red, feels like he has to say something at the till even though he really doesn't need to.
John
🌼 Favourite way to cuddle you is to start by tackling you to the ground, play fighting or tickling you. Its like he can't just ask for a hug he has to play a game or trick you into it first...
🌼 Because he loves holding you and cuddling you and he loves kissing you too but he doesn't really know how to persue non-sexual affection without laughing it off and being unserious? The boy just wants a cuddle with his flower but he doesn't know how to ask because cuddling is "soft"
🌼 Definitely big spoon. Similar to Alfie, likes to have possesion of you, when youre wrapped up in his arms youre completely at his mercy and he can do whatever he likes to/with you.
🌼 Loves to tickle you and feel how with nowhere else to go you scramble and squirm further into his hold. And if he makes you jump even better because they you flinch and reach for something to hold onto, so you end up gripping his shirt or throwing your arms around his neck and clinging onto him just the way he likes it.
🌼 Isn't very good at tummy rubs alas, but thats because he can't get his head around the idea that pressing on your tummy when its sore, will help make you feel better "won't that just hurt more?"
🌼 Gives you lots of kisses though, will try to tease and tickle you to make you laugh and smile to distract you from the pain. I guess his cuddle style is playful.
🌼 Loves a naked skin to skin cuddle the best, likes to hold your bare body in his arms and draw patterns all over your skin as you fall asleep.
🌼 Lets you bite him very gently on the shoulder mid hug (one for the girls if u know u know)
🌼 9 times out of 10 cuddles with John lead elsewhere... Like, cuddling definitely puts john in a certain kinda mood
🌼 Oh you just wanted a nice sleepy cuddle? It might start off that way but after a minute or two of having his body pressed up against yours his minds wandered to... Places
🌼 Definitely does stuff like "got ur nose" just as you're drifting off and relaxing.
🌼 Surprisingly serious about your period, perhaps he wouldn't have been once, as a younger lad he'd have teased you or told you off for even telling him about that.
🌼 But he's a man now and he firmly believes real men need to take care of their woman, so he'll make sure you have everything you need. Will pretend to be embarrassed about having to go to the shops to get your period pads or whatever but actually doesn't care at all. He's only teasing you, trying to make you laugh at him by pretending to get really flustered about it.
🌼 His favourite thing to do is pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and then throw you down on the bed to cuddle you.
Bonnie
🍀 The cuddliest sweetheart you can imagine, always finding an excuse to give you a hug, always coming up behind you and making you jump when you're concentrating on something else, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your neck, kiss your shoulder, just rest his chin on your shoulder or have his cheek pressed against yours.
🍀Loves having you sitting in his lap and will always choose a table at the Garrison with not enough seats for everyone so that he has an excuse to pull you into his lap. Really does just like to have a hold on you at all times. Even if you're not talking or interacting in any other way. He just likes to be physically near you.
🍀 Definitely similar to John, play fights, chases around the house/fields always just as an excuse to get his hands on you.
🍀Always pulls you in for a hug when you first see eachother/say hello. Will give you the tightest squeeze and lift you up off your feet.
🍀Loves carrying you, your legs around his waist, you holding onto him nice and tight, dependent on him.
🍀Dreams dreams dreams of the day you've lots of wee kids to cuddle with, the five of you getting huddled up and cosy in mammy and daddys bed for a bedtime story.
🍀When its you and him all cuddled up in bed for the night he likes to either be big spoon or have you asleep on his chest, his hand resting on your back. He often gets worried about the home being broken into or an attack in the middle of the night so he feels most comfortable when you're right there sleeping as close to him as possible. Means he can know you're safe as can be and he can be there to protect you.
🍀Loves naked cuddles, skin on skin, legs tangled, feels so close and warm and intimate and he's so in love with you, so devoted to you that he craves that closeness and only feels complete when he has you in his arms and he can feel your heartbeats sinking up.
🍀Will hold you/spoon you all night!!!! You will wake up wrapped in his arms and if you need to get out of bed for anything in the night sorry but Bonnie will not be letting you go without a fight. Loves to hold your head burried in his chest.
🍀 Probably not phased by your period and if he is he isn't going to show it at all. Doesn't like you being in pain at all and he's very good at giving you back massages and tummy rubs. He also knows that theres another way to help with period pain and he isn't scared of touching you when its your time of the month. (Bonnie and Aberama are the only two peaky men I think would finger you when you're on your period tbh, tommy might but I'm not entirely sure?)
🍀 Modern bonnie sends you a photo of the period aisle at rhe shops because he's confused but determined to get the exact right things for you.
🍀 He's always lowkey dissapointed when you get your period because that means no babies
Isaiah
🐀I think it probably takes him awhile to get particularly cuddly and affectionate. For all I imagine he's a tactile, flirtatious playboy type, I don't think he knows how to just hug it out or have soft sleepy cuddle you know?
🐀You probably initiate most of the cuddles, and he always tries to pull away before you're ready too, so you have to grip him extra tight and put up a fight...
🐀But then he gets a taste for that, feels good how you practically beg him for just a hug... You always ask him "Saiah can I have a hug please?" because unless you tell him you want to be hugged he won't think to do it... But he LOVES hearing you ask for that. "Saiah I wanna hug" when you're tired and whiny. He sometimes denies you just to make you ask again. "Say please love..." "God what am I to you? A fuckin hug dispenser?"
🐀He's always big spoon, because he's a fragile masculinity adolescent... He hasn't grown out of the complex of needing to be the man, so he's always the one cuddling you... He won't ever let anyone think he enjoys all that soft shit...
🐀But when no one is around he's actually very cute and sweet to you. Nose kisses all the time. A secret fan of the penguin kiss (where u rub noses idk?)
🐀I think he learns to be affectionate with you over time and is cuddly but mostly only in private. You have mastered the "hug me" eyes now and if you get them just right and you sit there looking at him like that for long enough he'll say "Right.. You've brought this on yourself y/n" as if you're in serious trouble, then he'll march over and sit himself in your lap squishing and crushing you until you can't breath for laughing. Only then will he give you a proper hug - but the cuddles are worth the torment you have to go through first.
🐀As bad, if not worse than john on the horny cuddler front. Is genuinely so confused about how he's supposed to tangle you up like that, bundled up against his chest so that every part of his body can feel every part of your body pushing against him, and not get turned on... A nice peaceful cuddle can become pretty heated pretty quickly. He'll feign innocence (sometimes he won't and he'll just slip his hand into your underwear and take you buy surprise) all his little caresses and kisses seemingly innocent at first but really, not at all...
🐀When it comes to your period Isaiah pretends he's man enough not to care, he'll screw his face up all "ew no way y/n fuck no..." then crack a grin and make out like he was only teasing you, but secretly he feels really awkward about it and doesn't know what to do. He'll panic at the shop, get annoyed when he buys the wrong thing and you send him back. But he's trying, he wants to be a good boyfriend so over time he'll do his best to learn.
Michael
☘️ Secret cuddler...
☘️ You have to work so hard to get him to trust you but once you secure his trust (once he knows you aren't going to laugh at him or tell his brothers what a sook he is) he will reveal his soft side to you and oh my god is he soft
☘️ He loves cuddling and being cuddled. Bug spoon, little spoon, sitting in an arm chair, picking you up and swirling you round, carrying you to bed for more cuddles, having you lie on his chest, him lying on your chest (secretly his favourite way to cuddle) any cuddling at all, he loves it
☘️ But his favourite is definitely lying with his head to your breast, your hand in his hair maybe giving him head scratches or playing with his hair, your legs closed around his body so that he's completely secure. He could fall asleep here so easily. He loves it. Especially after a hard day at the office or when his cousins are being particularly demanding.
☘️ He loves to cuddle you too, loves being big spoon when you're naked in bed, likes getting to hold you anyway he wants. Your legs tangled together, perhaps one of his hands holding your hands, kissing your shoulder, your neck, between your shoulder blades. He loves waking up in that position after a nap, the two of you nuzzled into one another.
☘️ Isn't awkward about you getting your period as such, he doesnt think its gross but he's very concious of social taboos so if you come right out complaining about period pain or saying that you've accidentally bled on your dress he'll turn such a bright shade of red. You always forget and it always makes you laugh.
☘️ Gets annoyed when you tease him about it
☘️ Is very worried that youre in pain. Worried too that you'll lose too much blood. It takes a lot to explain to him that you're not going to bleed out on your period...
☘️ Tries to dote on you but gets overwhelmed by all the demands and the things you need. Because he's so worried about getting things wrong or upsetting you.
☘️Won't give good tummy rubs or massages because he's too scared he'll hurt you. Will run you a hot bath and wash your hair for you.
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roguerogerss · 7 months
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Show You How Much I Love You
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Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader
W/C: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)
Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.
(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)
You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.
"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.
"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"
"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.
You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.
You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.
You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.
He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"
"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.
"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."
"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."
"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"
"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."
You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"
"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"
"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."
He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"
"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."
A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."
You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.
"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.
"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.
"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.
"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."
He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.
"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."
Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"
"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"
You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"
"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.
"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.
"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.
But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."
"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.
"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious!"
Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.
"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."
"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.
"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."
-
As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.
"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"
Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.
"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."
You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"
"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."
"I know. I know, I just-"
"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."
"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."
You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."
Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.
You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.
"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.
"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."
"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.
"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.
"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”
"I don't know, Michael-"
"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."
Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.
"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"
"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."
He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.
His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.
He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.
He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."
You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."
"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.
"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.
You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.
Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.
The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.
You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.
"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.
"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.
Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."
"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."
Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.
You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."
"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.
His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"
"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”
"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."
"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.
"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.
"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.
"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.
"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.
"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."
Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.
"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.
"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.
"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.
You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.
"Time to change the bandages."
489 notes · View notes
pherelesytsia · 1 year
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Who did this to you? - 8
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.
Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing 
Word Count: 2.3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9
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The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.
Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.
            "Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.
Faintly Y/N smiled.
            "I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.
Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.
            "I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.
Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.
            "We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.
Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.
            "Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.
Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue. 
            "I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.
With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.
            "Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.
The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.
            "May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.
Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.
            "It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.
Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.
            "Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.
Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.
            "We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.
Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.
Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.
Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.
Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.
            "No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.
            "That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.
Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.
            Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.
            "Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.
Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.
            "She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.
Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.
            "Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.
Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.
            “We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.
A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.
TagList:
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writeroutoftime · 15 days
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peaky blinders
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-tommy shelby-
Where You’re Supposed to Be - Tommy comes home late, yet again, but now you want to know where he was and why he’s in pain 
Home - During a late night at work, Tommy finds that he can’t focus, so he heads to the one person he wants to be near
Power Couple - When Michael and Gina try to push everyone out of Shelby Company Limited, you and Tommy remind them who the real power couple of the family business is 
Stronger Together - As an honorary member of the Shelby family, you’ve been with Tommy through thick and thin - even the war. Now with the war won, the two of you must battle a strong, internal enemy together
Patience Runs Out - While at a gala, Mosley has the audacity to make vulgar comments about you, but instead of Tommy, it’s you who deals with him 
Not Invincible -  When Tommy gets arrested, you go to visit your husband, only things don’t turn out the way you expect
Surprise -  based on the prompts “I’m not going to like this am I?”/“Probably not." 
Shit Day -  After a long day at work, Tommy comes home to find you dancing and singing in your kitchen, and you’re all that he needs to feel better
Calm in the Storm - When a storm strikes, you find yourself only wanting Tommy for comfort
-john shelby-
Old Habits - When John comes home from a day of work he finds you and also finds himself reminiscing of your old life
Birthday - It’s your birthday and when the love of your life and your family forget, you aren’t sure how to react 
-michael gray-
His Irish Girl - There to support your cousin at her wedding, you catch the eye of a certain Michael Gray and share a wonderful evening 
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-tommy shelby-
whumptober day 1 - poisoned
-arthur shelby- 
He Struggles with His Conscious 
-john shelby- 
Baby It’s Cold Outside
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-tommy shelby-
Late Night/Early Morning Cuddles with Tommy Would Include…
Arthur Teaching Tommy’s S/O to Throw a Punch Would Include…
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scorpiussage · 1 year
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Peaky Blinders characters with a SO they have to bail out of jail
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🌕Tommy
🌕 Is honestly pretty annoyed. He’s got enough on his plate and having to bail you out of jail is frustrating.
🌕 That is until he hears why you were arrested. Some asshole at the market had groped you and you’d knocked out his two front teeth. Cops are bastards, though, so you’d been arrested regardless of your story.
🌕 Tommy has to bite back chuckles while he writes a check and he only barely keeps his composure to the car. Once you’re both in the privacy of his car, he lets out a laugh and tells you “Good job.”
🌕 He will tell you that he expects this to never happen again, however. He still wants you to defend yourself but he would like you to have a bit of discretion doing it.
🌹Alfie
🌹 Alfie’s heart drops when he gets your call from the jail. He immediately drops everything to come get you and probably has Ishmael break several speeding laws to get to you as soon as he can.
🌹 He’d be looking for someone to maim in all honesty. What good’s these fucking pigs on his payroll if they go around arresting his love?
🌹 Would be shouting and swearing all the way to the car and would immediately use the privacy to check you over.
🌹 “You alright, treacle? Did any of them pigs hurt you? I’ll fucking kill them if they did.”
🌹 You might find it difficult to go out for a while after that. Alfie isn’t going to let you out of his site again.
⚡️Michael
⚡️ He jumps between moments of panic and fury the whole way to the jail house. Who exactly he’s angry at, he’s not entirely sure.
⚡️ On the one hand he’s terribly embarrassed that you’ve been arrested. He thinks it makes him look bad, like he can’t control you properly. But on the other, he’s horribly worried about what might have happened to you in that jail.
⚡️ Be prepared for the longest lecture of your life, for real he’s never gonna shut up about this.
⚡️ If you got arrested for a good reason, he might ease up a bit but he’s never going to let you live this down regardless.
⚡️ If he feels like you aren’t listening to him, he’ll rope his mother into lecturing you as well. And she’ll make a good show of it but as soon as he leaves the room she’ll roll her eyes with you and mutter, “Men.”
💥Arthur
💥 Laughs the whole way to the jail house and cracks jokes the whole time he’s paying.
💥 This moment will be the story he tells at every family gathering for the next six months at least.
💥 Definitely not upset or anything with you but if you got arrested defending yourself, you can expect your attacker to be face down in the cut by the following morning.
💥 If Tommy or Michael try to make some comment about you being a trouble maker, he’ll start throwing hands.
🌞John
🌞 John definitely got arrested with you let’s be honest with ourselves.
🌞 If he doesn’t have the cash on hand to bail the both of you out, he’ll ring Tommy first thing.
🌞 On the off chance that you got arrested on your own and he has to bail you out, he’ll do it quick as a bunny and not say anything about it.
🌞 He loves spinning ridiculous yarns after the fact about your time in the big house.
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greatlydelirious · 1 year
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞
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Peaky Blinders x F!Reader
What [blank] Dicks Look Like Masterlist
summary: “An extremely detailed description of different Peaky Blinders dicks.” Hex Color Codes, predictions of exact measurements, what sex would be like; basically, I went crazy with it once again.
warnings: pure debauchery, very much my own opinion
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Arthur Shelby:
Height - 5′ 9″ (1.75m)
Body Type - Lean, Taut Muscles 
Tip - #EEA091
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Shaft - #FACCB0
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Length - 6.4in (16.25cm)
Girth - 5.8in (14.73cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, hair is trimmed, one especially sensitive, one especially thick vein on the topside of his shaft near the base. Low balls.
Arthur has very well-rounded sex appeal. His cock is the perfect length, thickness, and a pretty color; he’s a nice height and his build is strong enough to carry you while also being a sight for soar eyes. This old dog has the stamina of a young man. Which in his case is a blessing and a curse because of all the trouble he gets himself into. 
When Arthur first saw you, it was like an angel came down from the heavens to grace him with its presence. He’s the type of man to think you can fix him and maybe you can. Not in all aspects but some. Arthur will always be boiling with violence and anger but the aura you give off when you’re around him calms his wild soul.
Say what you will, when Arthur falls in love with you, he falls IN LOVE with you. No more whores and still some but significantly less snow. Although he will need a good bit of convincing to stay home with you and not go out to the pub. The best tactic is to use your puppy eyes and pretty pout while wearing one of your thin nightgowns. Gets Arthur to his knees every time without fail.
He doesn’t necessarily have a daddy kink, but he has a thing for showering you with affection and whispering sweet words through his gruff voice.
“Come on sweetheart. Let good ol’ Arthur treat that pretty pussy of yours.”
Definitely loves eating you out the most. Arthur will always have a seat reserved for you on his face. His mustache tickles and his stubble gives a delicious bite that perfectly laces with the pleasure he is giving you with his skilled tongue. He moans into your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Arthur tells you that you taste better than any liquor he’s ever drowned himself in.
Arthur has an unspoken praise kink. The way he groans and his cock throbs when you tell him how wonderful he makes you feel is all the evidence you need. All he wants to be is a good man. You have no problems with telling him as much. Especially he groans from deep in his chest and buries his face in your neck to leave sloppy kisses whenever you call him a “good boy”.
Despite his violent tendencies and strong emotions, Arthur will lavish you with sweetness. He may need extra reassurance, but how could you deny him when his favorite thing to do is sit by the fire with his head buried in your lap? (His second favorite thing to do is fuck you bent over the couch by the fire with his balls slapping your clit from the intensity of his thrusts.)
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Tommy Shelby:
Height - 5′ 8″ (1.72m)
Body Type - Wide, Strong
Tip - #F5B2A8
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Shaft - #FAD1BB
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Length - 7.5in (19.05cm)
Girth - 5.2in (13.20cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, clean-shaven, thin veins that are a deep purple on his shaft. Tilts upward, balls sit high.
Tommy Shelby is a possessive, all-consuming force of a man. He doesn’t just simply date you but owns your body and soul. Property. His property. It’s not as crude as it sounds when you put into perspective what he means by that single word. You’re his to take care of, nurture, own, and cherish. You’re not easily replaceable or easy to let go. Not that he ever would. The thought of another man laying a finger on you makes his jaw clench and blood boil.
Sometimes you like to test his patience and resolve though. Tommy leaves you by your lonesome for so long that you begin to become bratty. You’ll talk back, give him the cold shoulder, or even flirt with someone in his office. Big mistake.
“Need I remind you of your place? I have no qualms fuckin’ the attitude right out of you, love.”
Tommy will bend you over his lap in his office to deal out punishment. He doesn’t care that there are people outside and the door is unlocked, you need to learn that testing his patience never ends nicely for anybody (if you acquiesce fervently enough, you’re usually the exception).
Cock-warming under his desk and on his lap are his guiltiest pleasures. On more than one occasion Tommy has gone through a meeting with his huge cock stuffed down your throat. He doesn’t falter on a single word; even when drool slides down his shaft as you struggle to swallow around his thickness. The second the person leaves his hands dive into your hair to fuck your mouth. Other times when you keep whining about not getting enough attention Tommy will sit in his chair with you impaled on his cock while he works. It doesn’t matter how much you mewl for him to move. You’ll cum get to cum when he says you can.
“Good girl… take all of it. Such a lovely tight cunt.”
Tommy is the KING of dirty talk. The things he whispers huskily in your ear are absolutely filthy. He wants to make sure you know how much he wants you. Words, touches, and gifts are never lacking when you’re with Tommy. Anything is never too much for his girl.
He secretly loves when you take charge in and out of the bedroom. There’s an authoritative side of you that comes out in serious situations. The night Tommy saw you beat a man bloody for coming onto a woman who kept telling pushing the man away, he had no doubt in his mind that he loved you. Heated arguments end with Tommy on his back with you riding him with your hands wrapped around his neck. Sometimes he liked giving the burdens of control to someone else for at least a night.
Being with Tommy is dangerous, but the pros far outweigh the cons. Thankfully because of his reputation every single person in Birmingham knows better than to mess with you. The bolder few will quickly face the end of Tommy’s gun.
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John Shelby:
Height - 5′ 11″ (1.80m)
Body Type - Muscular
Tip - #EFB0B0
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Shaft - #F3C8B1
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Length - 6.1in (15.49cm)
Girth - 5.0in (12.7cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, clean-shaven, very smooth, and even-toned. Tilts to the right.
He’s the youngest and the funniest of the Shelby brothers by a long shot. He’ll drink you under the table but he’ll also carry you home and help take care of your raging hangover the next day. John and your marriage is by far the healthiest and the happiest out of everyone. It’s like you both are stuck in the honeymoon phase.
“You like when I fill you with my cum, baby?” Each tease is whispered affectionately and through a gentle smirk. “My lovely wife is such a whore for her husband’s cock.”
You truly are though. Any chance you get your throwing yourself into John’s arms (the feeling is wholeheartedly mutual). The man will pin you onto any available wall and fuck the sense out of you. Anytime you’re drunk he can’t resist the pretty blush that spread across your cheeks and the way you practically melt into him. It doesn’t take long for you to lose all inhibitions when it comes to a quickie in the alleyway next to The Garrison.
John has a very vocal breeding kink. Every time he fills you with his cock, he groans about how he’s going to pump you full of his cum and make you his forever. Nothing turns him on more than stuffing any cum that leaks from your pussy back into you with his fingers. It’s primal and sloppy, yet strangle intimate at the same time.
It doesn’t take long for you to get pregnant but when you do, John finds you even more attractive. No matter how many kids you have together, your husband is insatiable for you. Tommy often jokes that the two of you, “fuck like rabbits”. A true statement when you always seem to be knocked up.
His favorite position is the mating press for obvious reasons. Not only does the position bottom out his sizeable cock in your pussy, but it leaves you at his mercy. John is so tall and muscular that it makes you feel tiny under him. Youngest does not mean weakest. Not by a long shot.
You’re the reason for John to get up and fight to strengthen the family name every day. Although it’s not always so serious. John has a charming sense of humor that has you giggling like you’re a young girl again. Want to settle down and have a family with a husband who adores you more than anything else? John Shelby is the man to be with.
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Michael Gray:
Height - 5′ 7″ (1.70m)
Body Type - Lean
Tip - #DF968B
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Shaft - #EBC1AA
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Length - 5.7in (14.47cm)
Girth - 4.6in (11.68cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, hair is trimmed, grower not a shower. Sits pretty straight when erect, if not slightly down.
Talk about being two completely different people. Michael is an entirely different man when it’s just the two of you. He’s sweetly seductive and it’s a toss-up for who truly had the power in the relationship. Although in the bedroom Michael is very dominant. You give him a sense of power he doesn’t have in the Peaky Blinders.
The man has a corruption kink he wasn’t even aware he had before meeting you. He was enamored by your innocence when he met you at another dull socialite party. When during your conversation he makes a salacious comment to you and you respond by saying you’ve never laid with a man before, his cock instantly grows uncomfortably hard in his nice trousers.
Despite his extreme attraction toward you he’ll “wine and dine” you first. Michael will take you to fancy dinners and shows and let you know the facets of his job. He woos you with gifts and tender nights in his bed. Whatever it takes to make you his, he will do it.
“Tell me, love. Do you enjoy having me wrapped around that pretty finger of yours?” Loves to say this while kissing each one of your knuckles and losing himself in your eyes.
It’s the truth. You’re the only person whose interests outweigh his own. He knows your nature. He sees the twin flame burning in your soul that calls out for you to be near him, to be claimed by him.
Michael loves to dress you up. Whenever you need to get ready for an event Michael will pick out your dress and accessories and help you put them on. His hands always linger while they trail across your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake. You’re the envy of every man and woman wherever he takes you with your arm draped in his.
He has a thing for fucking you while you only wear high heels, pantyhose, and expensive jewelry. To him you’re perfection. Michael loves watching a proper lady like yourself become a droopy-eyed mess on his cock. All because of him and no one else. You make Michael feel special like he’s a capable man.
Teasing is commonplace in the bedroom. Michael likes to push you to the edge of desire before pulling you back. He needs to hear you beg for it. More often than not you’ll find yourself bent over a hard surface with Michael pounding into you like a beast, grunting like one too.
Michael is eager to prove himself and his strength, but it’s all because he wants to give you the best life possible.
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Alfie Solomons:
Height - 5′ 9″ (1.75m)
Body Type - Muscular Dad Bod 
Tip - #D99792
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Shaft - #E7BAA8
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Length - 6.8in (17.27cm)
Girth - 6.3in (16.00cm)
Details - Circumcised (he’s Jewish), unkempt like his beard while being only slightly trimmed, thick raised veins on his shaft. Tilts to the upward, huge balls.
Alfie is an aggressive lover in all facets of your relationship. He’s aggressive in the sense that he often yells passionately in an argument about your safety which leads to rough sex on the closest surface he can get you.
“If anyone even slightly raises their voice to you, I’ll cut their cunty tongue out and feed it to their fuckin’ dog, yeah?”
The man has the mouth of a sailor, the rants of a madman, the aggression of a wild animal, the intellect of an ambitious businessman, and the cock of a God. Equal parts thick and long, Alfie stretches you full and leaves an aching reminder of his cock for a week.
He may not soften his words in the slightest, but he does say sweet sentiments to you very often. When you both are alone, whether that be on a walk with Cyril (who absolutely adores you), at home, or in his office, Alfie likes to gently hold your hand. Alfie will stroke your cheek with his thumb before moving down to take your hand in his, marveling at how small you are compared to him, how fragile. The thought makes his heart lurch and ache in a way no one was able to do in years.
“What on God’s green bloody earth did I do to get such a beautiful thing like you in my fuckin’ bed.”
What he did was charm your panties off. You met Alfie when he came into his office after seeing an advert in the newspaper by a bakery that needed a female baker. The real bakery that actually sold white and brown bread. He still remembers every detail of the pretty pink dress you were wearing and the way you smiled when you reached a gloved hand out to introduce yourself. Maybe you were the real charmer between the two of you. It’s safe to say Alfie was smitten with you the second his eyes landed on your innocent face.
A face that he loves so much that he only fucks you in positions where he can see it. Missionary and cowgirl are Alfie’s personal favorites. The way your tits bounce and face scrunches when his cock is buried in you makes the man an absolute wreck. Think he curses too much during the day? In the bedroom, he is unhinged, loud, and curses enough to even make a mobster blush.
Another pussy eating king. Alfie likes to hoist your legs over his broad shoulders and watch you from between your legs while he eats you out. His facial hair intensifies the fevered pace in which he sucks your pussy and his nose rubs against your clit to give you toe-curling friction.
At the end of the day, Alfie loves you more than anything and will never hesitate to protect you. No questions asked. One time he beat a man bloody with his cane just because he was standing to you a little too close while flirting with you. He respects your autonomy, but no one should even as much as look at his woman funny.
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Luca Changretta:
Height - 6′ 1″ (1.85m)
Body Type - Lanky, Taut Muscles
Tip - #FEBFAE
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Shaft - #FFD4B7
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Length - 7.8in (19.81cm)
Girth - 5.1in (12.95cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, hair is trimmed and slightly curly, has one thick vein that runs along the underside of his shaft and a couple blue hued thin ones. Hangs low.
I WANT THIS MAN SO BAD, HE IS SO-
Fate had you thrown into Luca Changretta’s world after he came to your shop to have a dress made for his mother. By the time you finish it, Luca gets not only a nice gift but a woman to call his. You’re the type of girl to take home to mom and to say his mother loves you is an understatement. He thinks your heaven-sent, the Beatrice to his Dante. Luca will not hesitate to travel through the depths of hell to get you.
Power and daddy kink to the MAX. Luca needs the power dynamic in your relationship. He needs to be the one to pay for your pretty outfits and nice apartment nestled in a secret corner of the city. He needs you to rely on him. That’s not to say he stops you from making dresses or having your own friends. One of his men will just be following you from a distance the whole time you’re out. Luca is just the type of man to give in to all your whims while only asking for your company and affection in return.
“My spoiled little principessa... show Daddy just how much you missed him.”
Luca isn’t the type of man to rush into things. That not only applies to his mentality in the mob but in his sex life. He loves a soft, slow blowjob. His hands thread through your hair not to dictate your moves but to message your scalp tenderly as you take his cock so beautifully. Each slow drag of your lips along his shaft makes a satisfied rumbling noise emanate from Luca’s chest. His eyes never leave you for a second. He’s hypnotized by the way your eyebrows slightly pinch when his long cock slips down your throat and the way your thighs clamp shut to soothe the ache of your own arousal from sucking him off.
He loves when you ride him on the couch but it often devolves into him fucking up into you from the bottom. Luca is always in control. Another position he loves is missionary with your legs folded so your shoulders are near your ears. The angle of your hips helps his impossibly long cock bottom out in your tight pussy. Luca wants you to be completely consumed by him, filled to a point where all you can do is moan his name like a prayer.
Intimacy is extremely important. Your lips are practically locked together while he is fucking you. The only time he pulls back is so he can look down at his soaked cock disappearing into your pussy. The man is obsessed with you. Every noise and expression you make, every touch you give, every word you say drives Luca mad.
He ALWAYS leaves a wet, reverent kiss on your pussy before fucking you. It’s his thing. Luca wants you to understand that he doesn’t just fuck you, but makes raw, unadulterated love to you.
Luca has men stationed outside your apartment at all times. Nothing is too much when it comes to your safety. He’s a family man through and through. Luca will make you his wife after going through the proper channels and will make it his mission to get you pregnant. He’ll pump you full of his cum until you’re a whining mess. Afterward, he likes to lay in bed with you wrapped in his arms and his cock buried in your pussy.
You’re his just as much as he’s yours. In simple terms, you’re what’s going to hurt him the most.
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Oswald Mosley:
Height - 5′ 11″ (1.80m)
Body Type - Defined Muscles
Tip - #DE847E
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Shaft - #E9BDA0
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Length - 6.5in (16.51cm)
Girth - 4.9in (12.44cm)
Details - Uncircumcised, clean-shaven, thick tip. Tilts to the left, hefty yet nicely rounded balls.
No description for obvious reasons.
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Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.
a/n: People LOVE to fight me on height, but I looked up each and every actor’s height for this so it is what it is! When you look at the brothers together it’s actually pretty obvious that John is taller than the other two.
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Partner Age-Difference Preferences (Peaky Blinders HCs)
Gn!Reader x Various (Tommy, Arthur, John, Michael)
A/N: suggestive language, toxic masculinity, toxic relationships, discussion of age-gap relationships, the reader is 18+ in all scenarios.
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Tommy:
Prefers same age, won’t refuse a younger partner. Tommy has tried being with older partners but found they wanted too much control. And by “control,” we mean an equal part in the relationship. Tommy wants to have two worlds to live in, his world in business and his world at home. Partners his own age/younger tend to tolerate that more. Either they understand what he needs, or they are too naive to see it.
There is a power dynamic that he’s attracted to as well. A same aged partner will debate with him, but not shove him the way an older partner might. Wordplay is a turn-on for him, it’s really foreplay. Even the exchange of barbed comments can get him going. You could be certain that you’re in an argument with him and slowly it melts into an intense bout of eye-fucking that ends up with you naked. A younger partner is perfect for him to put on a pedestal and protect. If you can stand up to him and keep up with his mind, that’s even better. But don’t expect him not to use your age against you if you actually try to have an argument with him.
With a younger partner, Tommy will accept at maximum a ten year age difference. Occasional lovers can be a bit younger, but not by much. By Series 5 or 6, however, Tommy could go to twenty years age difference.
Arthur:
Doesn’t want to admit it, but most women his age feel inaccessible to him. Really has no preference, but most of his partners are younger due to them not immediately identifying that he can’t be changed. And that’s the cruel thing about it all. An older partner has seen people like Arthur and know that they have to accept him as he is or leave. Other partners might not. Which leads Arthur to greater heartbreak.
Unlike Tommy, he will put his partner on a pedestal regardless of age. Whoever you are, he will deify you based only on your choice to love him. Nobody’s ever chosen him before. You must be special. Saintly. An angel. He’ll feel that way even after you leave him. This would likely be most distressing for a younger partner. Arthur is emotionally volatile and immature. He won’t fully understand that the way he clings to you is abusive. He won’t. Not unless you commit to educating him on that, or really, making an ultimatum with him. Threatening to leave him is the best way for him to change even slightly.
Arthur doesn’t have a true preference for age, but he would not be with someone more than fifteen years younger than him. There’s something about feeling like he could be their father that just immediately turns him off. Fifteen feels safer, somehow.
John:
He’ll say he likes them younger because that’s the thing all men say, right? Really, he wants either a partner his own age or older. A partner that knows what they want and know what To Do when they’re alone in bed with him. Also, an older partner might just make him feel… safe. Ideal age difference with an older partner can go as high as ten years.
John does fairly well picking up younger partners for a night of fun, but he’s self-aware enough to know he can’t make a life with them. He has children, he has a drinking problem, he’s a boy in a suit with a gun. John knows this about himself and he wants to grow up. He wants to be stable. John can’t see that happening with a bouncy young thing he met at a pub.
John never wants to look like he’s not the boss in his relationship. Even if everyone can see that you’re the leader, he won’t admit it. The truth is, John is rather immature. Even a partner that’s his exact age is likely to feel older based on that. Unless you are also immature, you’ll find yourself having to be The Adult a lot of the time. Which embarrasses him, but he won’t change quickly. He’ll just put on his angry face and stomp his feet until you make it up to him.
Michael:
Has tried to be with partners younger than himself and found it just wasn’t what he wanted. Hates to say it out loud, but he actually prefers an older partner. Call it Mommy/Daddy issues, but he wants a partner that he can impress. He wants to prove his worth to you constantly while also having you on his arm as a sort of trophy.
In the case where his partner is older, his ideal age difference would be between 3-8 years give or take. Nothing extreme on paper. That’s not to say Michael wouldn’t be attracted to someone older than that, the 3-8 mark is just his go-to answer.
Like John, part of his attraction to an older partner comes from a want for stability. Michael is less interested in the traditional sense of stability, however. He lived a life in the countryside with two well-adjusted parents and a little brother. Michael knows what that life is like. His want for stability comes from wanting a partner with similar wants and goals who won’t easily change their mind. A younger partner or same-aged partner might change their values over time. An older partner knows precisely what they want, and will support Michael. Support him, be in awe of him, have all their attention on him. That’s what Michael wants.
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xoxoavenger · 4 months
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I Can't Imagine
pairing: Michael Gray x Fem!Reader
summary: Michael and Y/N have a fight, one that seems like the most important thing until the Shelbys are served a black hand.
word count: 4549
warnings: canon typical injuries, canon typical gang violence, major character death (cannon, not michael or reader)
12 Days of Christmas main masterlist
"3-5-5 Small Heath," Y/N said into the telephone, playing with the ring on her left hand. Michael had proposed not even a week ago, she had moved in not even a week ago, and yet he had only been home when she was going to sleep about two times. It made Y/N livid, and she wasn't going to stand for it. It was almost Christmas, for Christ's sake.
"Shelby Company Limited," Michael answered, and Y/N sighed.
"Mr. Gray," Y/N spoke, listening to Michael's quick intake of breath.
"Y/N," He greeted back, his voice static over the phone. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" He asked, obviously pulling out the pocket watch and looking at the time.
"Aren't you supposed to be home?" She shot back, leaning against the desk he had at home.
"I'll be there soon. I promise." His words made Y/N want to scream, because she knew she wouldn't see him until the morning.
"Why don't you tell Tommy Shelby that your wife wants you home." She spoke angrily, closing her eyes in annoyance.
"You aren't my wife." Michael shot back quickly, making Y/N take in a sharp breath. She thought about saying something snarky back, thought about going to the office in Japanese silk - and idea she had overheard Polly and Esme talking about.
Instead she angrily hung up the phone on Michael's quick apologies.
~
She hadn't fallen asleep but when she heard the door downstairs shut, she closed her eyes and pretended. She heard Michael come into the bedroom, heard his sigh as he took off his jacket and shoes, the clink of metal from his cuff links, the ruffle of cotton as he took off his shirt and then pants, leaving him only in his undershirt. He walked to the bed, gently laying down on his side before he put an arm around Y/N and pulling her close. She didn't snuggle closer like she would have normally, but instead stayed rigid and faced away from him.
"I know you're awake." Michael muttered into her shoulder, kissing the bare skin her night gown provided.
"Do you not understand why I would pretend?" She whispered, trying to ignore the flutter in her heart as he moved closer to her body, the hand that was around her waist feeling around to grab her hand.
"No," Michael's voice was soft and quiet, much different than it had been over the phone.
"Liar." She let go of his hand and rolled away slightly, onto her stomach, making it harder for him to cuddle her.
"Y/N," Michael said, leaning up in bed. Y/N closed her eyes, as if she could fool him now. "Y/N, please. I don't want to go to bed while we're fighting." He reached out for her again, and she pushed him off.
"We can stop fighting when you come home at a reasonable time." She told him, still not facing him.
"I'm doing important work." Michael said as he rolled onto his back.
"For Tommy Shelby? The man who put you on a noose?" She finally moved to her side to face him, barely able to see him in the dull light.
"He's the one who got me off the noose." Michael fired back, making her roll her eyes.
"You wouldn't have been on the noose if it weren't for Tommy!" She was yelling now, and Michael sat up. They had fought before, sure, but she never brought up the time he had almost died. It seemed she was saving it for a rainy day.
"We wouldn't have met if I didn't work for him." It was true; Y/N and Lizzie had worked together, so when Thomas had brought Michael around for some fun Y/N was the one who gave it to him. Michael quickly became a regular, and soon she was payed handsomely and told that she wouldn't need to see anyone else - it wasn't long before her and Michael were official and she learned the Shelby ways.
"Well, what would I know? I'm not your wife, after all." She turned over silently, closing her eyes for the final time that night.
~
She woke up when Michael had gotten out of bed, kissing her forehead as he stood up and then again when he left. She wasn't going back to sleep, so after she knew he was gone she got up and got ready herself. She did a couple chores around the house that the maid didn't do, like cleaning Michael's office and their room. It had been quite awhile when she collected the mail. She went through it, not opening much because it was for Michael. She did pause on the last one, which was sent from New York. America.
"What the hell?" Y/N muttered, putting the other mail down and going into Michael's office for the letter cutter. She opened a couple drawers before she found it, rummaging around and almost cutting her finger on it. She opened the envelope to a card, the content of which was a black hand.
What was that supposed to mean?
She shoved the card back into the envelope, heart racing. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
She grabbed the telephone, pressing the small button twice before she was connected.
"3-5-5 Small Heath," Y/N waited to be connected, leaning on the desk and looking at the envelope once more. She didn't fully recognize the name, even if it did seem familiar, but she had never been to America, so she didn't know where it was anyway.
"Hello," Well that was not Michael.
"Tommy Shelby," Y/N said with malice. She hated Tommy for what he did to Michael, to his own flesh and blood. He was a slimy man, and Y/N refused to put up with him.
"Y/N," Tommy greeted her back, and Y/N just sighed.
"Where's Michael?" She asked before he could say anything else. She didn't want to listen to the leader of the Shelby clan; in fact, she would rather never think of the man again.
"He's on his way to Polly's right now. Had to give him a couple pointers on how to get her back to being Poll." Y/N sighed - she knew that Michael's mum wasn't doing well; her time in prison and in the noose had effected her badly, and Y/N and Michael went to visit her at least once a week. She was surprised that Michael went without her this time, especially because he hadn't even told her.
"Did you tell him to go see her? Because you can't fix problems on your own?" She wondered, brows furrowed and her face hurting from it's frown.
"This problem is better suited for Michael." Tommy told her, causing her to roll her eyes.
"Well, it is a problem that you created, furthering my point." Y/N shot back, trying to keep herself from crinkling the envelope in her hand.
"Did you need something?" Tommy asked through a sigh. Y/N took a deep breath - they were practically family now, and Michael respected him. Although she would never respect Thomas Shelby, she would try to act civil.
"I just got a letter in the mail. From America." The line was silent, and she thought it was disconnected for a second until she heard Thomas breathing. "It's from an Italian name. The card was just a black hand." She told him. She hadn't even finished talking before Tommy was swearing.
"Pack a bag and bring some stuff for Michael. We all need to be in Small Heath." He told her, which made her even more pissed.
"We got this house so that we wouldn't have to live in Small Heath." She hoped Tommy could hear her annoyance, could hear her wanting to punch him multiple times.
"I know, but this is the Mafia. The Changretta's are coming after us." He told her quickly, and she heard rustling paper on the other line. Y/N's eyes widened. She didn't work for the Shelby Company Limited, but Michael practically told her everything that Polly, Lizzie and Esme didn't. She knew that Arthur had killed Mr. Changretta, the name she now recognized on the envelope, and she knew that the Mafia was bad news.
"Fuck," She whispered, staring at the envelope. The envelope that was addressed to their house. "They know where we live," She thought aloud, everything coming crashing down.
"Yes, which is why we need to get to Small Heath."
"Well then," Y/N sighed, setting the envelope down. "Guess we'll all be together for Christmas after all, Tommy."
~
"I'll be back soon, I promise. I have to go get John." Michael told her as they put their bags into one of the upstairs rooms.
"I'm coming with you," Y/N told him. By now it was early in the morning, the sun rising on Christmas. They hadn't slept, both of them worried about the anvil that seemed to loom over the Shelbys.
"No, Y/N, you aren't. If John was served a black hand they know where he lives too, and I don't want you to get hurt." Michael told her, taking his gun out of the holster, checking it, and putting it back in.
"Well, I don't want you getting hurt." Y/N fired back, raising her chin as they stared down at each other. Michael knew he didn't have time for this, so the best he could do was hope the mafia hadn't gotten to John's yet.
"Fine. But you stay next to me at all times and do exactly as I say alright?" He agreed, opening the door of the room for her before leading her down the stairs and out of the house, right to their car.
"Of course, Michael." She smiled as he helped her in, sliding all the way to the passenger side. "I know you can protect me." She put a hand on his thigh as he started the car and watched as his face heated with blush. He turned to kiss her quickly before pulling out onto the road.
"So," Michael started as he began driving out of the small town. Y/N turned to look at him. "I didn't mean what I said on the phone the other night." Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against her door, sighing. Part of her wanted to forget about their fight.
"I don't believe that." She said quietly, waiting for him to either shut up or lash out.
"I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't feel that way." He told her sincerely, turning out into the country roads. "I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't want you to be my wife."
"It still hurts! I was just asking for you to be home and you decided to use my feelings against me." She shot back, heart racing. She didn't like fighting with Michael, but she also didn't like when he treated her like that.
"Your feelings? I was speaking the truth." Michael told her, and she shook her head, looking out the window.
"You clearly do not understand, so let's talk about it later." She told him, effectively ending the fight. They were almost to John's house anyway. They were even on his road when a slow horse pulling hay practically stopped them.
"Come on!" Michael shouted, hitting the steering wheel. It was obvious he was stressed, and Y/N hoped she was hiding her own emotions. John had kids and a wife, he had a family. She hoped he was fine. "Move!" Michael shouted, causing her to jump slightly as he hit the horn. The man with the hay eventually did move, and Michael quickly swerved around the trailer, making his way all the way to John's.
Once they pulled in behind John's car, Y/N went to open her door. "Stay in the car." Michael told her, hopping out.
"No! I'm not leaving your side, remember," She was still pissed, so even if she had made an opposite promise she wouldn't have stayed in the car. She practically had to jog to keep up with Michael, resisting the urge to grab his arm as they walked through the driveway. The two walked around the side, going through the gate before they heard a shotgun reloading.
"Oh, fuck, it's you two." John said as he came out of his small hiding hole, putting down his gun. "Got nothing better to do on Christmas morning?" John asked, looking down at them. Michael grabbed Y/N's hand, holding it tightly. She let it happen, because she needed some strength to get back to Small Heath.
"Tommy wants everybody at Charlie's yard now. Come on," Michael dipped his head toward the cars, speaking quickly to show his urgency.
"Get in. Get in!" John yelled at the dogs, who walked back through the door right as John shut it. He jumped down from the ledge, leading Y/N and Michael to the front of the house. "Nice to see you, Y/N." John tipped his head to her as they walked, and Y/N just smiled. She hadn't seen the Shelby brothers since Thomas had sent them to the gallows, and she had to say that she regretted it. John had always been nice to her, even if they didn't talk much.
"Is Esme here?" Y/N asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Even if Esme hadn't been one of Y/N's closest friends, it was Christmas Day. Of course Esme was at home.
"Of course she is. It's fucking Christmas Day. What does Tommy want, a fucking family reunion?" John asked, turning onto the patio.
"Look, John, we don't have time for this." Michael said, clearly getting more and more stressed just by being there.
"Alright, come into the house," John spoke just as Michael was finishing, "Just come to the meeting."
"Come on, John," Y/N begged as they walked up to the door.
"Have some food." John continued to ignore them, opening the door. Just as he did, Esme came running out. Instead of going toward Y/N like they all thought she would, she walked straight up to Michael.
"Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves." She seethed, making Y/N sigh.
"Tommy says they could come for us today." Michael spoke, but Esme was taunting him before he had even finished.
"'Tommy says, Tommy says'. Are you his fucking parrot?" She yelled. Y/N grabbed her arm, turning her toward herself.
"It's the Mafia, Esme! The New York fucking Mafia!" She watched Esme just shake her head, and Y/N's heart sunk. She had to get through to them.
"And we're the Peaky fucking Blinders." John said, gun still slung over his shoulder.
"No, we're not, John. We're not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we're together." Michael told them, obviously losing his patience.
"You were together on the gallows, with one man missing." Esme turned back to Michael, getting into his face in rage.
"Esme, I know you're upset because trust me, I am too. But in the city we have more protection, more people. We can't risk death just because of a stupid man like Tommy." Y/N tried, but Esme wasn't listening. "Just come to the meeting, at least. Think about the kids." Y/N took her hand from Michael and put it on Esme's shoulder now, and everyone turned slightly at a slight noiseto see the hay horse that Michael had passed on the way passing by the house.
"If you want to leave after, that's fine. Just come with us." Michael begged, and Esme turned her head back.
"No. It's Christmas Day. We're the family now. We're staying at home." She got closer to Michael and Y/N pushed her back slightly, not wanting a fight to break out.
"Get in the fucking house!" John shouted as he loaded his gun. Y/N looked over to see men jumping out of the hay, guns firing. Esme began to run, grabbing Y/N and forcing her to follow into the house. She heard the deafening gunshots, and her heart began to pump faster.
"Michael!" She yelled, reaching out for him. He pushed her away, and Y/N stumbled as Esme dragged her. She couldn't catch herself in time, her knees hitting the concrete just before her her head smacked. She hit hard, jarring her. She could hear the guns and screaming and she knew Esme was now yelling at her, pulling her further toward the house by her under arms. She blinked quickly, trying to regain her senses. Her jaw, cheekbone and eye socket screamed in pain, and she groaned as Esme let her fall. She turned to sit up, head rolling as she took in the scene in front of her. Esme was screaming, holding John close to her. She felt her heart race as she realized there was blood staining John's white shirt. She looked over to see Michael, on the ground.
Y/N's heart plummeted.
"Michael," She groaned, pushing herself to stand. Esme's screams were piercing, and Y/N could barely focus. Everything was blurry, and she wasn't sure if it was because of her head or the fact that she was sobbing uncontrollably. She could barely see as she stumbled around, falling to her knees when she was close enough to Michael. The pain shot all the way up her legs and down to her toes, and she felt bile rise in her throat as a surge of pain when through her head.
"Call someone! John!" Esme screamed as Y/N reached for Michael. She used her might to pull him over, trying to figure out how much he was shot.
"Oh God," Y/N retched, turning her head to throw up. Blackness was consuming her, and her head become fuzzy as she fell right next to Michael, still trying to grab him. He shakily grabbed her hand as she dropped her head to his shoulder, feeling him move around in pain.
"Y/N," He groaned. She lifted her head, realizing her face was now wet from tears.
"Michael, oh my," Y/N's throat was tight, her breath was heaving in and out. More bile was rising to her throat from the pain and the horror of seeing the Shelbys being shot. She turned again, letting go of his hand and throwing up. It felt like her heart had just stopped beating, that her insides had knotted together and her throat was swelling. The right side of her face throbbed, and she just wanted to go home.
One of the kids must have heard Esme, because soon enough an ambulance was pulling into the front yard.
"Help!" Esme screamed, and Y/N turned her head to see four men get out of the ambulance. Two went to John, and two came to Michael.
"Please move so we can help him, miss." A man said, gently pushing her back. When she looked up at him, his eyes widened. Y/N wasn't sure why he was looking at her like that, so she moved back to Michael's side. He was breathing still, but it was pained and his eyes were closed.
"He's gone," Another man said as he came up to Y/N and Michael. Esme's screams were louder, and Y/N felt her heart sink; John was dead.
"We need to get these two to a hospital." The first man said, nodding toward the car. The two men who had been looking at John first left, and Y/N turned to see them going to the car to grab out a stretcher.
"Is he gonna be alright?" Y/N asked, tears in her eyes. She didn't want to lose Michael. She didn't want to be left alone.
Oh God, and they had just fought, too.
"We'll try our best." The man nodded. Y/N tried to calm her breathing, because it was hurting her face, but she couldn't.
The men came out with a stretcher, helping Michael onto it. He groaned out, and Y/N winced they picked him up and took him into the car.
"Why don't you come with us, miss? We need to check out your head." A man held his arm out to her. Y/N looked over to see the other man talking to Esme, who was still screaming and crying.
"My head?" She asked as she grabbed the man's arm. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion - she could only see flashes, like one second she was on the patio and the next she was in the front of the ambulance. The man was asking questions, but Y/N wasn't answering. She could barely hear his words. When she went to lay against the door, her head so fuzzy her eyes were closing, she was instantly brought back to the present. Pain surged all the way across her face, practically rattling her teeth. She jarred awake, blinking quickly.
"Are you alright?" The man driving asked, and Y/N sat up, looking around. They were at the hospital in Small Heath, and she jumped out when they stopped. She stumbled, however, falling to the ground and scraping her hands, her knees crying out. She let out a gasp in pain, about to get up when someone grabbed her and helped her up.
Thomas Shelby.
"You," Y/N seethed, seeing red as he looked at her.
"Y/N, what happened?" Tommy asked. This was one of the only times Y/N had ever seen Tommy afraid, and it made her even more mad.
"What happened?" She repeated, grabbing his biceps as he pulled her up. "What happened was you, Thomas Shelby! What happened was you can never inflate your own ego enough!" She screamed, tears falling out of her eyes as she hit him. She clawed at his face, smacking his chest with open hands and fists. She was angry and upset and tired and hurt and she was taking it all out on him.
"Y/N, please," He begged, grabbing her arms. They were locked like that when the men pulled Michael out, who was groaning in pain, eyes squeezed shut.
"Michael," Y/N muttered going to her fiancé. Tommy grabbed her however, which caused her to hit his arm in an attempt to make him let go. His grip was unwavering, and when he pulled her into him she realized she was screaming, face pressed against his suit. When she finally stopped screaming, her head pressed against Tommy's chest as he cradled her head, she heard Esme's horrified cries.
"No," Tommy said, his grip tightening on Y/N as he realized why Esme was screaming. "No, please," He was begging, and all Y/N could do was cry and lash out.
"He's dead!" She cried as she pushed Tommy away, her head spinning as he let go of her, numb. "And now Michael," Her voice was breathy and she was stumbling, not able to hold herself up.
"They're going to take care of Michael," Tommy promised, shooting a hand out to steady her as she began to fall to the ground. "Are you alright?" He asked, but then she began to lose her balance even more, bringing him down on the muddy ground with her.
"I need to see Michael." She said her breathing getting more labored. Tommy helped her lean against him so her head didn't hit the mud, using the opportunity to examine her bruise.
"He's going to be okay. We need to get you in, your face," He trailed off, not sure how to describe it. Her jaw and cheekbone were swollen, and although she probably hadn't noticed her eye was also almost swollen shut.
"Michael," She breathed, and Tommy's thoughts jumped to the fact that if he were to marry again, this would be the kind of girl he didn't want; one who didn't even care that half her face was smashed in because he was shot.
"Y/N, come on," Tommy tried to pull her up, but she was practically dead weight.
"Fuck you, Tommy." She muttered out, grabbing his jacket. She was shaking, and Tommy was worried about her. "Fuck you." Her eyes were closing, her grip loosening.
"I need help!" Tommy yelled, watching a couple men come out of the building.
"I hate you, Thomas!" Her voice croaked. It wasn't louder than her breathing, and her voice was cracking.
"How did you hit your head?" He asked, moving her hair out of her face and using the hand on the back of her neck to move her head and see the extent of her bruise.
"Get the fuck off me!" She hit him, but it was more of a tap. "Let go of me," She rolled over and onto the mud, coughing as if she were going to throw up. It took Tommy a couple seconds too long to realize she really was dry heaving. The two men had come over to her, grabbing her arms and picking her up to take her into the hospital.
"Make sure she gets the bed next to Michael Gray." Tommy said as he got up, pretending like he hadn't noticed the mud caked into his pants.
"Thomas Shelby is a coward!" Y/N yelled weakly as she was carried in. "He's a coward and he will do anything for his own gain. Even kill his own family!" And he hated to admit to himself that it was true.
~
"Why aren't you laying with me?" Y/N woke up to Michael's voice behind her. She had been laying towards the wall, because she didn't like sleeping on her back and she couldn't put pressure on the right side of her face. She sat up to turn, and she knew when Michael as realized the bruise. She realized belatedly that she couldn't open her eye all the way, and that her head was throbbing in pain.
"You were shot," She muttered, sitting up all the way and pushing off her bed. Her dressing gown fell short,  much before her knees, her feet completely bare. Her cheeks heated as she realized someone would have had to undress her, and she hoped it was Ada or - more likely - Polly.
"Yes," His voice was gravelly, but he seemed awake, and she wondered how long he had been awake. "My mum came by, she said to tell you she was the one who undressed you. That she fought with physicians to get them away from you." Michael was reaching for her now, and she moved to grab his hand, letting him pull her close and arrange her so that they could lay together.
"When I saw you on the ground - oh God, Michael." Her breaths were short, and although his eyes were closed he was rubbing her back. "I was so afraid you were dead. Before we even got married." He let out a small breath of laughter, still not opening his eyes.
"I can't imagine how Esme feels." He muttered, making Y/N's heart drop.
"I'm sure Tommy is getting a good picture." She said, thinking back to when she had gone crazy as Michael was taken into the hospital.
"He told me about your episode." Michael said softly, and she just closed her eyes. It was embarrassing to think about the way she had screamed at him the way she had thrown a fit outside the hospital and completely collapsed.
"I thought you were dead." She whispered, eyes closed for fear of what he would say.
"If I were you, I probably would have given Tommy a new scar." Michael rubbed her back a couple more times before they settled into bed to sleep.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler
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warnersister · 4 months
Text
“Tea in the Cotswolds” Michael Gray x Reader
Michael Gray x Reader
When Thomas has business with Archibald Wentworth, a prestigious delegate in the Cotswolds, Michael is tasked with occupying the man’s adult daughter - getting more acquainted than expected.
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The Blinders had expanded their business - all the way to the Cotswolds, Tommy had taken John and Michael for the ride; leaving Arthur back in Birmingham as he didn’t find this the right environment for any sort of negative articulation to be breaking out; especially at Wentworth Family Manor.
The houses became progressively larger as the carriage rolled down the cobbled street, some with drives too large to be able to see the house it belonged to at all. But eventually, the vehicle came to a stop at the looming house; substantially larger than all others. In his head, the only similar build Michael had seen to this was Buckingham Palace - large and awe-inspiring enough to be the encasings to a proud museum, contents sacred and protected.
But potentially Michael’s imagination wasn’t too far from reality.
“Right,” Tommy began, eyes flicking between the two men whom had accompanied him. “Today is a very important meeting. And i need to leave a good impression on the Wentworth’s. So we leave our egos and our guns in the car.” John’s brows creased in confusion. “Leave our guns?” “They’re not dangerous. This is legal business; real estate - dabbling a bit in the illegal side of things but not enough go start a fight. Mr Wentworth is an extremely prestigious man, as is his wife and daughter.” He told them calmly. “I’ll talk with Mr Wentworth, John you’ll talk with his missus and explain what we do: nicely. Michael - I’ll leave you to get acquainted with his daughter, yn.” “You’re leaving me with the child?” He asked, confused. “Yn is twenty.”
They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
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d3lta-2005 · 9 months
Note
Can you make a redhead male reader with the Peaky Blinders brothers?
Shelby brothers + Michael with a s/o who is a red head
TW: cannon typical violence
MALE GENDER SPECIFIED
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*Thomas Shelby*
You caught his eye, most likely at the garrison, he would probably give you a cupple of complements,
After your start dating you get alot more complements, he likes playing with your hair either to de-stress himself or as a way of showing affection, he thinks you are very unique and handsome
*Arthur Shelby*
He was probably serving you at the bar, he definitely had a dubble take of your appearance,
After you start dating he looks at your hair alot more and like Tommy he plays with your hair to de stress himself, most likely before a fight
*John Shelby*
He definitely asked you a bunch of questions about your hair, he was shocked someone could have that hair colour,
After you start dating he definitely shows you off to everyone, he says he has the most unique Boyfriend in the hole world and no one can convince him otherwise
*Michael Grey*
He was a bit confused at first and had to do a dubble take, he thinks your hair adds to your character,
After you start dating he is like John and shows you off, he gives you alot of complements you alot
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pacifymebby · 10 months
Note
Hi! i love your blog sm! i was wondering if i could request a peaky blinders preference for how they would react if they were at a party and an enemy had their s/o’s drink spiked as a way to distract them so they could attack the peaky boys? i hope this makes sense haha Tysm !
Hi lovely thank u so much for the request, i am so sorry that youve waited so long for me to finish this!!! I loved the idea and u gave me so much to work with!! I hope its everything u wanted it to be hehe.
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Warnings: spiking of drinks, violence tv level) also describe the feeling of being spiked during Bonnies which could be upsetting for some.
Tommy
🌿 He'd been on edge all evening, he didn't really want to show his face tonight anyway, one of those fancy parties he knew he had to host every now and then to remain a prominent, influencial member of high society...
🌿 But these evenings are always ruined by the other guests... If he had to put a figure on it he'd say he despises about 90% of the rooms population and if it wasn't for you dancing with him and acompanying him all evening he's not sure he wouldn't have shouted that to the whole fucking room...
🌿All in all he wasn't in the mood for a party, let alone the trouble that he could sense brewing, this darkness bubbling away under the surface... He could tell something wasn't quite right, he had that warning bell ringing in his head and everyone who entered the grand ballroom, Tommy counted them, assessed them, studied them for any tells...
🌿Tommy saw exactly what they did, saw your drink get spiked... But this is Tommy Shelby we're talking about, the man never misses a trick
🌿And when he saw that young lad slip something into your drink he knew exactly what it was for... He knew that they were only trying to distract him from the bigger picture
🌿And what better way to navigate the trouble than to let them believe that they had...
🌿So he swaps your drink, accidentally knocking the spiked drink over, along with several others, smiling and laughing it off, apologising, keeps the mood light all hands in the air like "never mind eh just a few spilt drinks"
🌿Then when he rejoins you and gives you your drink he wraps his arms around you and hugs you close, rocking you side to side gently, slow dancing with you. Giving you instructions.
🌿"Need you do somet for me angel," he says, "Don't worry it won't be difficult... Need you to pass out for me yeah, just go limp in my arms as if someones put somet in your drink and its hit you all at once... Not right now yeah, just... Sip your drink - its safe I promise - just sip your drink and dance with me now eh and then, when I go over there and start talking with John, you go talk to Pol or me sister and you tell em you don't feel so good, let them take you out for some air and then you do it alright? But make sure you're somewhere safe away from all this for me... "
🌿You're a little worried, "but why Tommy whats going on?" "Never you mind about any of that eh, you just do this one thing for me eh sweetheart, I'll take care of everything else..."
🌿So you do as he tells you and you go outside with Ada and Polly doing your best to act a little faint a little frail. And to you delight you convince them so that when you pass out in Pollys arms a woman nearby screams and Ada goes running inside to tell Tommy...
🌿And as the chaos errupts and the party falls into dissaray, the fighting breaking out between the Peakys and the rival gang Tommy is safe in the knowledge that youre alright, that youre outside away from it all, safe and sound. So he can concentrate on wiping out the bastards who tried to hurt his angel, tried to use you as a cog in their nasty plan.
🌿He's so proud of you! When the fights over and he's sure there are no more threats he comes to find you, Ada has laid you down on the bench in the garden and covered you with her jacket and when Tommy sees you he smirks, chuckling softly.
🌿He gives you a little applause, "Bravo love, bravo," he says sitting down and helping you up, his proud grin painting a bright smile on your lips.
🌿Ada and Polly being confused until the penny drops and they realise that they've been dragged into one of Tommys plans. Theyre furious that he tricked them like that but Tommy isnt paying any attention to the lecture Polly is giving him. He's just looking at you.
🌿"You should be on the stage angel, when I saw you for a second there you had me worried..." "Don't be daft," you smile shyly, leaning into him as he puts his arms around you and hugs you, kissing your temple, looking out at the garden with serious eyes.
🌿"Sorry I had to drag you into all that love, won't happen again..." but you both know it probably will and he knows now that he can rely on you to be quite the little actress whenever he needs you.
🌿"Glad I've got such a clever girl eh angel..."
Alfie
🐻 Fuckin hates parties, doesnt see why it cant just be you and him having a drink ans a dance cosy at home but then again, he's old, maybe you youngens still like a party... Mind you, he remembers being young (he ain't that old!) he wasn't much for parties then either...
🐻 But he can't insult Tommy Shelby by refusing his invitation and he takes a little joy from knowing that his old pal Tommy hates parties just as much, that at least at this party he'll get to do is two favourite things: dancing with his zieskiet and seeing Tommy Shelby pissed off.
🐻 So the two of you go to the party and he tries to keep his grumbling to a minimum, charming you with all his usual tricks, dancing with you and enjoying the jealous looks from all the other men in the room. He's certain that you must be the most beautiful woman any of these men have ever set eyes on and he loves knowing that you're all his. Loves being able to show you off subtly.
🐻 He dances with you and brings you drinks, he holds your hand at every opportunity, being extra possesive over you, he doesnt leave your side all even...
🐻 So when it happens he's shocked... Because how could it have happened? How could anyone have put anything in your drink without him noticing?
🐻 He's so shocked but this is Alfie and he knows he needs to keep it together, remain calm, remain unsettlingly calm. So he turns slowly with you still in his arms and he searches the room for Tommy Shelby.
🐻 Because this is Tommys fuckin party so its Tommys fuckin fault and Alfie isn't daft, he knows that this... Whats happened to you, your limp, seemingly lifeless body, is probably only the first step in someone elses plan.
🐻The thought flickers across his mind, perhaps this is part of Tommys plans, perhaps its Tommy himself who has done this to you, betraying Alfie - it wouldn't be the first time the old friends have betrayed eachother... But no, that would be too obvious and besides... Tommy has a little class, for a "gypsy" anyway...
🐻 So instead of threatening everyone in the room instead of firing his gun, putting a bullet through someones - anyones - head you know, just to relieve his frustration, just to calm his panic... instead of losing his mind he remains calm, walks purposefully up to Tommy and starts talking over the younger man completely ignoring Tommys company.
🐻 This is tommys fuckin party so its tommys fuckin problem and Alfie has already decided that whatever happens next he won't be sticking around to help his old friend.
🐻 "Alright Tommy my old pal alright have a nice night yeah cause me and my girl are goin now... I know I know we've not exactly stayed very long but you know how I feel about these fancy do's dont you... Fuckin can't abide em yeah... And anyway as you can see... As you can see right my girls taken a turn hasn't she, had a funny turn, passed out cold in my arms just now yeah like she'd just gone and fuckin died or somet..." he's getting theatrical now, those who were with Tommy are watching Alfie fearfully, they've heard about him, they know he can turn at any second and he sure as hell looks like he might be about to snap now.
🐻 "We were just dancing together just now, over there yeah by that big fuckin ugly tree someone seems to have just fuckin dragged in out the garden? What is that anyway a fuckin big ugly tree? You wanna fire whoever put that ugly thing there..."
🐻 Tommy is looking at Alfie and looking at you, putting the pieces together, trying to think quicker than Alfie is talking but its always difficult to stay one step ahead of Solomons when he starts on these rants.
🐻 "Anyway I digress I digress, fuckin ugly plant or not, it would appear that somehow, in your fine home... Yeah and that words important right cause as the man of my own house myself yeah, I like to keep my home nice and safe eh, a fortress if you will... Anyway, me and my girl we were just fuckin dancin right, she was just fuckin dancing, having a nice fuckin evenin and then, poof..." he lets his voice soften, making a little gesture with his fingers like hes snuffing out a candle, "its like she's fuckin died or something aint it... Look at her yeah, don't you agree... Fuckin lifeless mate thats what she is..."
🐻 "Alfie whatevers happened I promise you we'll..."
🐻 "Fuckin fix it? That what you're gonna do yeah?" Alfie cutting him off, trying not to lose his temper, nows not the time to start a fight, nows the time to get you home safe and sound.
🐻 "Well, you can enjoy the rest of your evening eh, gather all your gypsy boys up yeah, put your little thinkin caps on eh and fuckin fix whatever shit you've gotten yourself caught up in this time... But me an my girl yeah, we're going home now alright mate, cause I reckon when she wakes up yeah shes gonna have a pretty nasty headache, and the last thing I'd want for her now is for her to have to come round to the sight of your fuckin crooked mug... Mate."
🐻 Alfie would be suspicious of everyone, even Tommy who he has mostly ruled out.
🐻 As he's carrying you out to the car, calling for Ollie to bring the motor round, its Alfie who starts the fight, firing his gun once into the crowd, wounding one of tommys men with a bullet in the foot. He chuckles as he hears the cry of pain, hears the victim fall to the floor just as heavily as you had fallen.
🐻 His real priority however is you, now that he's let tommy shelby know theres bad blood between them, now that hes started a fight and left the party tumbling into chaos, all out warfare, all Alfie cares about is getting you home.
🐻 He sits in the back of the car with you cradled to his chest, bundled up in his arms like a baby. He'd be talking to you soothingly, stroking your hair, not sure whether you can hear him or not. Wanting to make sure that whatevers happening to you you know your alfies with you, you know not to be scared.
🐻Grumbling and snapping at poor Ollie because hes driving too slowly and then because hes driving too dangerously and you're getting jostled about in the back.
🐻 He doesnt trust hospitals and doctors but he begrudgingly takes you into one and sits with you all night, getting snappy and snippy with the doctors who he doesnt think are doing enough.
🐻 He is so relieved when you finally come round the next morning, he's not slept, not eaten, hes just sat holding you, even when his sciatica was playing up and he was in pain from sitting holding you like that for too long.
🐻 He is nothing but soft and tender with you all day, runs you a bath to help sooth your aching muscles, fussing over you and grumbling at anyone who dares disturb the two of you. Poor Ollie gets an earful when he tries to inform Alfie that Tommy Shelby phoned.
🐻 He feels so guilty that this happened to you on his watch, he doesnt say it to you outright, that he blames himself, but he does make you promises over and over again that when he finds out what happened, who did that to you, he'll be paying them a visit...
🐻 He was really scared for you, really scared that he was going to lose you, really scared that you might not wake up, that he might not get to dance with you or kiss you or see your pretty eyes awake and alive ever again and so for that reason he stays close to you for some time after that night, always holding you, always touching you. He kisses you every chance he gets. Even wants you to come into his office with him so that he can keep you close, sitting in his lap whilst he works.
🐻 "Next time Tommy Shelby invites us to one of his fancy little parties zieskiet, next time he sends us one of those fuckin little invites... Lets not bother yeah, lets stay home just me and you, can do all the dancin we like right here yeah poppet, can have all the fun we like right fuckin here yeah..."
Arthur
🍂 You and Arthur always go too far at these parties his brother hosts. Tommys out there trying to make contacts, trying to lobby and charm politicians and the nations elite, meanwhile you and Arthur are racing one another to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey you've nicked from the kitchens, getting silly and letting your hair down...
🍂 And you're already drunk, both of you are really really drunk!
🍂 So when you start acting like you've overstepped that hard to predict line into "one too many" territory, Arthur assumes that thats all it is. You've had one too many, surpassed your limit and now you're struggling to stand up or walk, leaning on him for balance.
🍂 When you tell him you feel a little sick he chuckles and teases you all, "Aye my love I'm not fuckin surprised eh, when you gonna learn eh sweetheart, you can't keep up with us big boys..."
🍂 But when you collapse in his arms he freezes. The smile wiped clean off his face because suddenly he understands whats happened. You aren't just a little drunk. Something far more sinister has happened.
🍂 And of course he's terrified, pretty much convinced that youre already dead... Your body is so limp, lifeless, your head fallen back, youe eyes closed. You look so fragile, so delicate, like a feather and yet suddenly he can feel the weight of your whole body and you feel so, so real, so heavy...
🍂 He's fucking terrified.
🍂But Arthur Shelby doesn't do "terrified" he has one emotional switch and thats rage. If hes heartbroken he gets angry, if he's bitter he gets angry, if hes scared, well, he gets fucking angry and thats what happens next.
🍂 He fires his gun up at the cieling, the bullet shattering the glass in the chandelier above you so that shards rain down on the now petrified crowd. The party disintergratea, the atmosphere shattered as the band stops playing and, beyond the crying of a terrified bystander, the scuffle of panicked men, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.
🍂 He's livid, his mind already hazing with rage so that he can barely think, he's breathing heavily, shallow ragged breaths.
🍂 "Right!" he shouts into the crowd, "One of yous has fuckin hurt my fuckin wife and no one leaves this fuckin room until I find out which fucker done it... By order of the peaky fuckin blinders!"
🍂 And of course, no one argues with him.
🍂 Tommy pushes his way through the crowd to his brother, tries to reason with him, one hand on Arthurs shoulder as he tells him whats happening, explains the situation...
🍂 "You need to let her go brother, give her to Polly eh, go on brother, let Polly take her now..." Tommys trying to reason with him but Arthur doesnt want to let you go. The only reason he gives in in the end is because Tommy tells him he knows whos responsible for whats happened.
🍂 When Tommy points out the men who have spiked your drink Arthur doesnt question him, doesn't ask how he knows, instead he loses the last of his control, instead he startes trembling with the adrenaline rush, the rage, the hatred burning in his veins, his mind white and blank, tunnel visioning towards destruction.
🍂 He goes feral, launching himself at the men who are responsible, horror movie scenes ensuing as Tommy and the Peakys all go to battle, cutting men left right and center. Arthur is the most blood thirsty however, driven by the image of your lifeless body, driven by the terror he feels in his tight chest every time he pictures your lifeless expression.
🍂 He can't be stopped and he beats and cuts those men until they're unrecognisable. He has to be dragged back from the smashes in head of one of them, covered in their blood and his.
🍂 He can't calm down, he's practically rabid with his own violence, his eyes dark and changed by his anger.
🍂 But when you come round hours later, when you enter the ballroom where Arthur is still smashing things, still throwing furniture and breaking glasses, doing himself damage, when you call out to him he hears you and he turns to look at you. All the energy draining from him, all the adrenaline leaving him panting and exhausted, just gazing at you in disbelief.
🍂 And then hes just a shameful guilty stream of apologies, hes sorry he let it happen to you, hes sorry you have to see him like that, hes sorry he's too bloody and disgusting to hold you, he's sorry hes ruined your beautiful dress, he's sorry he went too far again, hes sorry he wasn't there when you woke up, he's sorry he couldn't be more help...
🍂 The only way you can cut him off is with your hand over his mouth, looking deep into his eyes, combing your fingers through his hair and his beard and pressing your lips to his cheeks, to his forehead and nose and jaw and anywhere else you possibly can.
🍂 "S'alright Arthur m'love im alright I'm here and its all alright and you fuckin got em didn't you, fuckin saved me didnt you, love you so much Arthur, don't apologise for anything please love, I'm so grateful I'm your girl..." you whispering all these sweet things to him until he's sure he's going to cry, your eyes and his eyes watering.
🍂 You cleaning him up afterwards and then climbing into the bath with him. Probably fucking in the water nice and slow and gentle to use up the last of his adrenaline and sooth him the best way you know how...
John
🌼 Similar to Arthur, John just thinks you can't hold your drink. You're so much smaller than him but you always forget that when you're drinking, you've been on the gin with Pol and Ada and you haven't exactly been taking your time....
🌼 He thinks you're so funny when you're drunk, thinks youre so cute too, the way you lose yourself half way through a sentence trailing off sleepily. The way you have to lean on him, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes as if you're about to fall asleep against him.
🌼 And when you do fall asleep against him he just chuckles, "whatre y'like eh flower," he says shaking his head and kissing your cheek as he lifts you up and carries you to the edge of the dancefloor, making a bed for you out of dinner chairs, lining them up in a row and laying you down on them with the little ones who have already gone to sleep on similar makeshift beds.
🌼 He shrugs his jacket off and uses it as a cover for you draping it over your shoulders carefully, crouching down and kissing your cheek, taking a moment to admire your peaceful features. You're so pretty, he's so lucky... All the while never noticing that somethings wrong. Never noticing anything at all until its too late.
🌼 The men who spiked your drink had been expecting some kind of reaction, a ruckus of sorts, a ripple of panic which would start with you and spread through the party like a wave...
🌼 But nothing happens and they're left confused and growing ever more tense waiting to pull their move, knowing that their window of opportunity is running out fast
🌼 And in the end they have to abandon their plan because all is calm and everyone js still having a good night. John is laughing with his brothers and you, well, you appear to be sleeping peacefully with the children...
🌼 So they have to start a new commotion, one of the men taking out a knife and threatening some random politicians wife so that one by one the peaky men are dragged into a fight.
🌼 John doesn't make any connections between the commotion and whats happened to you, as far as he's concerned youre still sleeping... That is until he grabs one of these trouble makers by the collar of his shirt and the cheeky fucker licks his teeth in a grin.
🌼 "Wheres your girlfriend Shelby? Hope shes alright, would be a shame if something were to..." and just like that the penny drops and although john had only intended to wound the stupid bastard, when he realises what the man is alluding to he shoves him up against the wall and pulls his gun on him, shooting the nasty git right between the eyes.
🌼 He's feeling murderous then, no longer enjoying the fight as a bit of friendly sport. But before he can take revenge he rushes to find Pol and instructs her to take care of you, to get you to a doctor as quickly as she can.
🌼 He's worried about you, obviously, but he's also really beating himself up for being so stupid as to not realise that there was anything wrong with you. He takes that frustration out in the fight however, channeling all his anger and fear and upset into beating the living daylights out of his enemies.
🌼 He's anxious to get to you however and the moment he scans the room and sees that his brothers and the lads have everything under control he leaves to find Polly, to find you.
🌼 He irritates the hell out of Ada and Polly who are trying to attend to you whilst they wait for the doctor, because Johns not the most delicate or precise at the best of times and when hes all worked up and in a bit of a state hes even worse. He just keeps gettinf in the way, he wants to help but somehow everything he does actually makes it worse.
🌼 "For christ sakes John sit down!" Polly losing her temper with him when the doctor does finally arrive and he carries on getting in the way.
🌼 But John will not be reassured and he will not listen to the doctor or believe them when they try to tell him that you're going to be okay.
🌼 He gets annoyed when the doctor tries to leave. "Where the bloody hell dya think youre going shes still out cold!" "Mr Shelby please, she's only sleeping, she's going to be completely fine... Theres nothing more I can do for either of you but you have my assurances that..."
🌼 "I don't want your assurances doc, I want you to fuckin do something!"
🌼 Ada having to intervene and drag him away, telling him that if he really wants to help he should stay with you, maybe talk to you or something so that you know hes there with you... Shes despairing with him if shes being honest...
🌼 But John finally lets the doctor leave and he sits down with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair out your face and talking to you, trying his best to calm down and talk calmly and reassuringly to you.
🌼 Worlds wobbliest restless knees award goes to...
🌼 He's a worrier at heart, even if he usually seems so laid back and when you do come round he doesnt stop fussing or being anxious, in fact Ada tells you she actually believes he's gotten worse... If thats at all possible.
🌼 He absolutely dotes on you. He doesnt want to leave your side but he doesnt want you to go without and he doesnt trust anyone else to get your drinks or to bring you food so hes constantly torn between going to get you food or staying by your side.
🌼 Isn't affraid to admit how scared of losing you he was, tells you multiple times. Keeps taking your hand in his and just holding onto you clasping your fingers tightly. He doesnt want to let you out of his sight.
🌼 Overly doting actually to a point where you think you might go insane. "John love, sweetheart please calm down, I'm fine I'm fine I promise... I can hold my cup myself see, I'm alright really love... Are you sure you're alright you're exhausting yourself..."
🌼 But he won't let you worry about him and he forces himself to tone his anxiety down because he doesn't want you to worry about him.
🌼 Again, can't get over how fucking stupid he feels, he can't believe he thought you were just drunk. He can't believe he just left you in the corner with the kids. He has such a huge crisis of confidence about his abilities as a husband/father. You needed him and he didn't even fucking notice.
🌼 He's petrified it could happen again and he does a lot of growing up. You tease him that hes growing too serious in his old age and although sometimes he laughs and jokes along, sometimes he gets this dark guilty look in his eyes and he reminds you of what happened, what could have happened. Tells you again that he isn't gonna let you down like that again...
🌼 Obviously wont listen to you when you try to tell him he didn't and could never let you down.
Bonnie
🍀 If he was being honest, for all that he'd told Tommy Shelby he wanted fame and fortune, didn't want to be a traveller anymore with fucking nothing to his name, seeing how Tommy lived whenever he visited the Shelby manor, made him question whether he really wanted all those things afterall. There was something about that manor that made Bonnie uncomfortable, perhaps it was simply that wherever the Shelbys were involved there was trouble.
🍀 And that was why he had had mixed feelings about bringing you to this party...
🍀Thered been so many reasons he'd wajted to... Naturally... He'd been excited to show off his girl, to have all the other Peaky Boys see you in all your beauty, for them to see that the shy and somewhat reserved Bonnie Gold, could do just as well as them when it came to women...
🍀And he'd wanted to show off to you too, show you how different the Shelby family seemed to live. The wealth that Bonnie was being introduced to. He wanted to show you it all so he could show you all the things he was going to work to win for you with his boxing.
🍀And he wanted to treat you. In comparison to the other Peaky lads like Isaiah and Michael and Finn, Bonnie led a far more simple life. The other boys were always taking their girls out to fancy parties, clubs and restaurants but you and Bonnie didn't live that kind of life...
🍀So when Tommy told him to bring a girl if he liked, Bonnie knew he would be taking you...
🍀Even if he was a little apprehensive to let you so close to the darker half of his life which so often put him in danger and could put you in harms way too if he wasn't careful..
🍀But it was worth his nerves to see you smiling the way that you were now, dancing with him, drinking and laughing with Isaiahs girlfriend and Michaels too. You looked so happy, so beautiful under the twinkling candle glow which lit the ballroom. And he was happy that you were happy. He was proud that everyone could see how you shone like a little star in that room. How you fitted in perfectly...
🍀But neither of you saw that stranger slip something into your drink. A drink that had been intended for Ada Shelby who had been talking to you by the bar, your glasses side by side on the polished marble top.
🍀 At first you just felt a little odd, a little dizzy as though you'd done ten shots of gin without realising it and they were all hitting you at once and when you found Bonnie and told him you felt strange he smiled at you and teased you telling you you'd had one too many trying to keep up with "us big lads"
🍀 He tucks you under his arm and leads you out to the terrace for some air, kisses your cheek and scrapes your long hair back from your face and neck so that the cool night air might dust you and ease your dizziness.
🍀You make the mistake of asking for some water and Bonnie makes the mistake of leaving you alone outside to go and get you some.
🍀And by the time either of you realised whats really happening its too late. Your little world is blurring and spinning and you feel suddenly so unbelievably sick.
🍀So you stand up quickly, too quickly, desperate to get back to Bonnie because you have that worrisome feeling in your stomach, that instinct telling you that something is really wrong.
🍀And you bump into a stranger who holds onto your arm for a moment too long, making you feel even more like you might be in serious trouble.
🍀You call out for Bonnie, your voice much quieter, your words more slurred than you expect them to be. And of course when Bonnie hears you he recognises that something isn't right because you sound so distance. Suddenly he feels very far away from you...
🍀When he turns and sees you he drops the glass of water, not even noticing it shatter on the floor causing a stir. He rushes to you concern lacing his brows together, his young face grey with worry when he recognises all the tell tale signs of something he'd hoped would never happen to you...
🍀 You open your mouth to call out to him but as you do you falter, stumbling forward. You're lucky your boy is a boxer, agile and quick on his feet, because he manages to catch you just before your vision fails and your body falls limp everything feeling heavier and heavier until finally you find yourself completely lost under a thick hazy quilt.
🍀 You can feel that sensation of impending doom grip you then, the fear building inside you, your heart racing as you struggle against the lethargy and confusion which is dragging you down into the dark. You want to cry, want to cry out for your Bonnie to help you but you can't even move let alone speak.
🍀Bonnie is shaking, looking down at you where you lie limp in his arms, your body slumped against his. You look so pale, so washed out. You feel cold too. Its as if you're dead but he knows youre not. He knows exactly whats happened to you because he's heard stories from Isaiah about some of the shit that goes on in the city these days. Girls getting attacked by sleazy gits. Ones who can't charm women (or perhaps dont even want to) so they use drugs to make them vulnerable, to make them easy targets.
🍀He's livid. Pale with anger. His heart beating fast because he knows how dangerous these kinds of poisons can be. How much damage they can do. He's scared for you but he's fucking livid too. Who the fucks Tommy Shelby inviting into his home these days... How the fucks a gang leader as infamous as Tommy Shelby cutting about letting young girls get spiked under his watch.
🍀He kisses your forehead, whispering to you that you'll be alright, saying a little prayer, a hail mary for you, hoping you can hear him. Hoping that it'll bring you comfort wherever you are just then.
🍀And then he surprises not only himself but everyone else in the room, all the other young peaky lads watching him astounded.
🍀Because he walks straight back into the ballroom, still holding you in his arms, bundled up against his chest, the most precious cargo hes ever had to carry. He kisses you on the forehead again and he says another little prayer for you, and then he carries you right up to Tommy Shelby himself, Bonnies eyes full of a cold determination, his anger apparent in the grinding of his jaw, the complete disgust with which he looks at Tommy.
🍀 It must be the adrenaline shooting through him, it must be the funny way emotions like fear and heartbreak show themselves when youre young and impulsive, but god knows where the confidence to do what he does next comes from...
🍀"You need to sort your fuckin men out Thomas Shelby, I dont know what the fuck kind of lowlife bastards you associate with..." 🍀his dad tries to cut in and apologise to Tommy on Bonnies behalf but when he sees you he frowns too and steps back wincing when his son carries on.
🍀 "You need to be a bit more fuckin careful about who you call your fuckin friends Tommy, cause when I find the sick cunt who's spiked my lass am gonna slit his fuckin throat from ear to fuckin ear..."
🍀 "And you say we're the fuckin savages..." he spits on the ground at Tommys feet but he doesn't wait to hear the older mans response.
🍀Instead he leaves with you immediately, doesnt stay to realise the true extent of the drama which kicks off after he leaves and even when he hears about what went down in the end he doesnt care. All that matters to him is you. When he's leaving with you all he's thinking about is how he's going ti get you home safe, how he's going to take care of you...
🍀All in all the attackers are going ro regret their mistake because had they hit Ada there might have been a bigger fight kicked off, her brothers picking any poor sod in the crowd of guests to fight with. But because they hit you its all over much quicker. Bonnie doesnt let you become a distraction, he really does just carry you all the way home where he can keep you safe, watch you through your unconsciousness and make sure youre alright.
🍀He spends all night sitting up with you, talking to you quietly, kissing your hair, cradling you to his chest, worrying about you. Saying those little prayers for you hoping that you can hear him or at least feel his presence. Hoping that you can feel his love for you, hoping you know that hes got you, that youre safe.
🍀 "S'alright little dove s'alright my girl ive got you you're safe sweetpea, won't let anything happen to you lovely..."
🍀When tou come round you wake in his lap, his hand in your hair, one hand on your wrist as he counts your pulse. He's so worried about you, the longer you've been out for the more stressed hes become. His dad came home not long after he did, Aberama had had to stick around and help when the fight had broken out, he'd also had to try and save face on behalf of his son and his short temper...
🍀 "My my bonnie that was quite the performance..." "I'm not gonna apologise so don't even try it..." Bonnies still absolutely seething and will be for some time, he's angry that Tommy would let those kinds of men into his house and he can't be reasoned with. He's definitely going to hold a grudge.
🍀But when you come round properly he drops his temper and shows you only gentleness ans care, ever so sweet as he dotes on you. Doesn't try to hide his relief, doesn't try to play it cool. Tells you how worried he was, how scared he was he might lose you...
🍀He asks you how you're feeling, tells you not to lie to him or play it down. "What do you need little dove, anythin at all yeah you tell me, gonna look after you i promise..." but you don't really need him to promise you that because you know it already.
🍀In the end you have to try and talk sense to him about the whole Tommy issue, you remind him what hes working towards, "Don't throw all that away over some stupid accident Bon, you're gonna be a star remember, gonna be my champion..."
🍀"Come in Bon, forgive and forget, what is it they say... Bury the hatchet..." "Aye I'll bury it alright... In the back of his fuckin head!" "Bonnie i mean it! Please!" and eventually he has to give in and take you seriously but not without that boyish smile, not without joking about his grudge from time to time and not without making it very clear that he isn't going to apologise for what he said that night, or for leaving before he could help thwm fight. "Alright, alright sweetpea, no bad blood i promise alright if thats what you want I'll forgive him... But am not apologisin to him... I did exactly what any good lad would do eh, got to look after my girl, gotta protect her first, shes the most important thing in the whole wide world..."
🍀He does feel like he should have done more, he regrets not realising sooner, regrets even taking you to the stupid party in th3 first place. From then on he's far more protective over you, hyper alert whenever hes out with you, doesn't ever let your drinks out of his sight, doesnt ever let anyone else buy you a drink. Doesnt ever leave you on your own, not even to get you a water when you really have had one too many. Certain he wont let anything like that happen to you ever again.
Isaiah
🐀 Similiar to John, Isaiah doesn't realise somethings wrong until its really really wrong and the fights already kicked off.
🐀The two of you would have been trying to outdrink one another all night. This was one of Tommys parties, one for all his legal business contacts and endeavors and Isaiah wasnt exactly expecting to be pulling his gun on anyone or getting into any serious scraps.
🐀However when a fight does break out, when some uninvited guests turn on Arthur and pull a knife, Isaiah's first thought is of vulnerable drunk you somewhere on your own in the party, perhaps off with Ada in the bathroom or with Lizzie at the bar.
🐀He only realises the depths of the danger you're in when he shoves a half concious thug to the floor and out of his way, pausing amid the choas to look for you, to see whether you've returned from the bathroom. But instead he sees Ada, sees her with tears in her eyes, her face white as a sheet. She looks terrified and although there could be any number of reasons the Shelby sister looks so scared Isaiah knows in his gut that shes crying because of you. Somethings happened to you.
🐀"Ada what is it whats wring where the fucks y/n..." and when Ada shakes her head and bursts into tears he fears the worst. Thinks something fucking awful has happened to you.
🐀He has this moment of hesitation, torn because the fights still raging and he knows the peakys need him to stay and fight. But he's terrified, so scared that you might be lying on the floor somewhere wounded or worse, dying, without him...
🐀"Ada tell me what the fucks happened," he snaps because hes panicking. Later he'll feel guilty for scaring the young lass but just then shes the least of his worries. He can think only of you. Total tunnel vision panic. When Ada manages to tell him whats happened she starts crying harder and Isaiah feels his blood run cold. He wants to run to you but he knows there's nothing he can do fir you, knows the only way he can keep you safe now is if he makes sure not a single one of these intruders gets out alive.... So he tells Ada to go find Polly, tells her to make sure she geta you help tells her to keep the both of you safe.
🐀He's in a blind panic, his adrenaline rushing him making it hard ti focus, hard to think and all he can do is launch himself at an attacker and take all his anger and fear out on them.
🐀Knowing that one of these men has hurt you motivates him and unlocks something plain sadistic inside him, he doesnt stop fighting until hes sure theyre all dead and even then with some of them he goes overboard, cutting people who are already dead/as good as dead. Kicking at their limp bodies until their blood stains his shoes and the walls, until its splattered over his body and the other bodies which now little the floor.
🐀John has to drag him away from the body of a man who's barely recognisable anymore reminding him of you, reminding him that you need him, "Come on Saiah, enough... She'll be coming round soon and when she does she's gonna need her man eh? You gotta be there for her mate, you've got to calm the fuck down, clean yourself up... Last thing she wants see is you covered in all this blood..."
🐀Then all the fight leaves him, hes stressed, can't control his ragged breathing, can't control his shaking. Suddenly he doesnt know what to do with all that fear and upset and for a minute he's scared he's going to cry in front of everyone. Isaiah definitely puts a lot of pressure on himself to be as tough as Tommy and the older Peaky men and the fact that his response when his girl is unconcious is to cry rather than rush to protect her makes him feel sick and a little disgusted with himself. Which obviously translates to more anger...
🐀So his temper flares and he can't calm down and even when Pol tells him to breath, to relax because youre going to be fine, Isaiah cant and doesn't accept that. He just gets pissed off that anything bads happened to you at all. And when he snaps at Polly all "Don't tell me to fucking calm down woman! Thats my fuckin girl there, fuckin out cold don't tell me to be fuckin cold!" he gets a hard slap off the woman in question. "Watch who you're callin woman peaky boy or it'll be you on the fuckin floor alright..."
🐀Only then does he come to his senses, suddenly apologetic and a little more meek. A little humbled by that stark slap to the face. It was what he needed in the end to calm him, to remind him who needed him and who he needed to be in that moment.
🐀And then Lizzie and Ada start wishing they could give him a slap too because he's fussing around you and getting in the way and he isn't helping at all...
🐀"Sit down for fuck sake Isaiah, fussin like that ain't gonna help her..." Ada trying to shoo him away, Isaiah straight up ignoring her and hovering around you anyway.
🐀Will be there when you wake up, will say sorry a million times, will not be able to handle the guilt. Makes a lot of very murderous promises. But youre actually kind of fine, just tired and achey, all you really want is for him to lie diwn with you and hold you whilst you rest.
🐀"saiah please," you yawn making grabby hands at him, lethargic and sleepy with little tears in your eyes, "just want a cuddle, come here calm down be alright just want... Cuddle..." him chuckling at you, a smile painted on his lips by your sweetness despite the stress he still feels.
🐀When he climbs into bed with you and holds you in his arks you hold onto him too, you can feel the adrenaline still pumping through his body, can feel his fast heartbeat and the way hes trembling. Youre not so naive as to point it out or ask him about it, instead you kiss his chest and nuzzle into his hold and you thank him for saving you and for being there when you woke up.
🐀Youre a sweet sight to behold and Isaiah is overcome with relief, a rush of emotion hitting him as he realises just how seriously he feels for you, how much you really mean to you. He loves you so dearly and as you're lying there held close to his chest he really realises for the first time that if anything were to happen to you he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
🐀So he makes a silent vow to you and himself that from then on hes going to be your protector, hes going to be there whenever you need him. That hes never going to let you get hurt again, never going to put you in harms way. He stops messing around so much, stops getting as drunk as he used to, really grows up and starts viewing everything to do with the peakys as serious, as a potential threat to you.
🐀Later you ask him to tell you exactly what he did to the bastards that gave you such a sore head and he lights up telling you about it, very satisfied to remember that he made sure they got what they deserved. And you're kind of delighted to hear it too, the kind of story that just make your stomach turn, your body cringe in empathy when he describes the injuries those gits suffered... Instead it makes you feel safe and secure knowing that you have a man who would do literally anything to protect you.
Michael
☘️ He's always enjoyed these parties, theyre so wildly different from anything he ever knew when he was living in the countryside... They make him feel like a real man, like an adult... They're so far from anything he ever expected for himself growing up
☘️And its even better now he has you to spend the evening with, to have on his arm looking beautiful, the most desirable woman in the room. He loves the feeling of entering a room and feeling jealous eyes on him, or shocked eyes. Women who look at him and see his girl and know they don't stand a chance. Me who instinctively drop the hand of their girlfriend when they see you. Michael loves to see it, the attention the two of your draw, the power you have over a room without even having to try.
☘️But that night he finally sees the flipside, the dark threat which looms like a shadow, which follows the shelby men and their partners wherever they go. The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, no matter who you're with, no matter what who is there to protect you, there always a chance that someone out there, someone nearby wants to harm you.
☘️ And tonight it so happens that that is the case. That someone in that crowd of giddy tipsy party goers, has their eyes on you, has foul plans for you...
☘️When it happens, when the 'poison' hits you don't really know whats happening but Michael does. He recognises the signs imediately, the way your eyes cloud with fear and confusion, the way your lips tremble and slope downwards as if you were suffering some kind of turn. He realises that somethings wrong but he doesn't know what to do and when you fall limp into his side, your body heavy against his, the poor lad panics. He freezes.
☘️And this panic is something he will never be able to forgive himself for. Something he'll curse himself for everyday for the rest of his life.
☘️But thats what he does. He panics. He freezes just clutching your lifeless body to himself, staggering back a pace or two, feeling like he might be about to collapse too.
☘️Honestly he thinks you're dead or dying, he thinks he's already lost you, that theres nothing to be done and when he drops to his knees holding onto your body like his life depends on it, he doesnt realise he's shouting for his mother until she rushes to him in a panic herself.
☘️ "Mum!" its that shout that stops the party, but its his next words, words which fall on a hushed and confused low murmuring crowd, "I think shes fuckin dead mum i think shes fuckin..." which cause the evenings downfall.
☘️In that sudden silence a scream is heard somewhere else in the house. It shatters the concerned murmur hum of whispers from onlookers and suddenly sobering perty guests, the scream ricochetting around the ballroom. Honestly Michael hardly hears it over the thrum of his petrofied heart beating in his ears.
☘️Tommy and the other peaky men all rush to find the source of the scream and when Michael doesnt move tommy stops and yells for him...
☘️ "Leave her Michael come on get up, fuckin get up!" he shouts to his younger cousin, no heart for you the girl passed out in Michaels lap, no consideration for Michaels world which is shattering around him in pieces on the ballroom floor. "Fuck sake Michael fuckin move!" he yells his voice carrying across the room, other guests watching in fear when still Michael doesnt move, still clutching onto you, still mumbling to his mum in a blind panic that he thinks youre fuckin dead...
☘️He's so torn because he knows he can't stand up to Tommy, he can't shout at him or put up a fight - even though all he wants to do is tell his older cousin to get fucked - but he also can't stand the thought of leaving you. Can't bare to hand you over to his mother when he really believes that if he does he'll never get to hold you again.
☘️He's so scared and he just sits there on the floor, on his knees, still holding you, your head hanging lip, your eyes shut, your body so unbearably still. He just sits there distraught looking between you and Tommy until tommys temper flares. "fuckin move michael..."
☘️ "Go on love go with your cousin," Pol tells him, "you go and you fuckin kill em for this eh, fuckin kill em... Ive got her, she'll be alright i promise you Michael, you fuckin kill em alright?"
☘️So he pulls himself together, stands up shaking, fighting back tears, a looming sense of dread and devotion, a doomed feeling taking hold of him from the inside as he follows Tommy through the house to the fight which has broken out, which is raging on.
☘️ But he's distracted fighting because you're all he can think about. He's so worried about you and it means he misses a couple of tricks, taking more of a beating than he should have done. Getting cut by a blade, getting a kicking that leaves him feeling weak and full if self loathing. He feels humiliated, even after the fight when he's had his fair share of little victories. Even when hes headbutted another lad out cold and sent his unconcious body staggering back and falling with a thud to the dining room floor. Even when hes plunged a kitchen knife into the back of another.
☘️By the time the fights over he's bruised and bloody and he looks worse than you. Hes in a foul mood, his temper thin and stretched tight because he feels that shame looming over him.
☘️He's genuinely humilated by everything, the fact that he let that happen to you, the fact that he was so scared, the fact that he didnt put up a good fight, that he's ended up battered and looking like a man who can't defend himself or his woman. A man who is only really half a man. He feels pathetic.
☘️ And that gives him a foul temper which he almost takes out on you. Earns himself a slap from his mother who tells him not to be so fucking childish, "Wipe that fuckin sullen look of your face Michael you stupid stupid boy... Y/N fuckin needs you so stop your sulking and step up for her!" "She needs you Michael, more than your fuckin ego needs you now get in there and promise you'll never let anything like that happen to her again..."
☘️And that's exactly what he does. When he returns to you he sees the little tears in your eyes and when you try to apologise to him all, "Michael I'm so sorry, I should have been paying more attention, I should have been more careful... Oh god look at you you poor thing I can't believe it this is all my fault.." he holds his finger to your lips and hushes you. "Stop that eh love, be quiet none of this is your fault... None of this alright... Don't you dare say sorry again sweetheart..."
☘️ He holds your face in both his hands and puts his forehead against yours, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. Sheds a tear that trickles down his cheek. You're alive and thats all that matters, you're alive and he's so relieved. He hasn't lost you, you're still here. That means he has a chance to make this right. That means he can do things right from now on, be the man you need him to be.
☘️ Thought I was gonna fuckin lose you angel, thought you were gonna fuckin die... But here you are, you're alright now and I'm never gonna let anything happen to you ever again, gonna keep you safe now and always yeah?"
☘️When you ask if he's crying he denies it, then he makes you swear on his life you'll never tell a soul, and that you'll never ask if he's crying ever again. You kiss his cheek where the tear is and smile whispering that you promise. That you love him. That its going to take more than a little drink to drag you away from him.
☘️ He's far more wary around you, who you talk to, where you go, far more protective. And he starts working out more, starts going to the boxing ring with Isaiah and Finn, and when he fights he tries to tap into that panic he felt, pictures your lifeless body and channels all his emotions into every punch, the adrenaline making him ten times a better fighter.
☘️ Loves to hear you tell him how strong he's getting, loves when you run your hands over his arms to feel his muscles and say things like "How could I ever feel in danger when I've got you protecting me?"
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mydear-corinthian · 24 days
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MASTERLIST : PEAKY BLINDERS
Main Masterlist here.
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Notice: This will be updated once every new post is posted. Last Update: 4/9/2024
THOMAS "TOMMY" SHELBY ★ Attention - smut ↳ You're a jazz singer and you were invited to Tommy's brother's wedding and you caught his attention. ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint. ★ Protection - angst & fluff ↳ You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home.
JOHN SHELBY ★ Defense - angst & fluff ↳ Defending John during the ambush of Changretta's men in your home.  ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint.
ARTHUR SHELBY ★ A Peaky Blinder - fluff ↳ You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. ★ Fainting - angst & fluff ↳ How they react when you faint.
MICHAEL GRAY ★ Dirty Little Thoughts - smut ↳ You and Michael can't control thinking about all the dirtiest thoughts you can think of each other.
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pherelesytsia · 2 years
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Who did this to you...? 1
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.
Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, Fluff,
Word Count: 2.2k
a/n: Requested by anonymous.
Part 2
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A deep silence descended upon the land. The ocean was calling, singing, and chanting. Oblong clouds obscured the waxing moon. Creatures cried out and escaped the shelter of the rising shadows. The door was shut and a low prayer escaped her quivering lips.
The wounds pained terribly, crimson oozed, a narrow river and the stabbing pain in her side made it impossible to form a clear thought. Helplessly, Y/N banged on the door. Peggy must be in the house, Y/N thought to herself, saw a faint light flickering in the living room and, listening closely, she thought she could hear the sounds of a sewing machine.
Footsteps echoed again, and the flame of hope awakened. The light was blinding and Y/N squinted her eyes, stumbled back, and cursed like a sailor.
Peggy whispered Y/N´s name. Her eyes were wide, threatening to fall out. Hands clawed into the holey material of the filthy coat, pulling Y/N into the depths of the house. Peggy gulped, and closed the door, locked it, had looked earlier to see if anyone had followed her best friend. Her lips parted, could not speak, dared not to ask questions, feared the worst, the answer. The young woman swallowed and stared at her hands. A liquid clung to her trembling fingers, and cursing, Peggy realised it was crimson. Y/N's blood. It was warm and dripping down onto the carpet. A cry escaped her, pacing, wondering what to do, had never seen so much blood. It was too much blood, Peggy thought to herself, knew it.
Guiding Y/N towards to living room, Peggy tried in vain to get information from the beaten woman, but Y/N stayed in silence, unable to answer, to speak, to pray nor to curse. Carefully, fearing to hurt her even more, Peggy guided Y/N to the sofa and pushed her down, ignoring the fact the reddish liquid would soak into the pale material of the sofa opposite of the table with the sewing machine.
            "What happened? Y/N talk to me! Who did this to you?" Peggy asked hysterically.
Mud, dried, and fresh, stuck to shoes and coat. The red lipstick was smeared and a horrible blueness spread over the flesh, like ice, shining faint but Peggy saw the wounds clearly in the dim light. She prayed again. Warily, she placed her trembling fingers on Y/N´s and repeated the question she had asked hundreds of times.
            "Why are you here? The Shelby's can help you more with this. I am not a nurse! I am a seamstress, Y/N/N.", "No." was all Y/N found strength to say.
Promptly Peggy understood, remembered the stories shrouded in shadows. No questions escaped Peggy and helped her good friend out of the ruined garment, once a beautiful coat. Peggy turned hesitant, freed Y/N´s arms and narrowed her eyes. Shocked, she noticed Y/N was not crying, but staring into the void, not reacting in any way when she accidentally brushed against the gaping wounds.
Eyes grew. Marks pale as the moon, hoary footprints spread across the torn blue dress, and Peggy could not believe her eyes, thought for a moment it was a terrible dream from which she would awake, but then as the sticky crimson dried on her skin, she realised it wasn’t a dream. Urgently Y/N looked up, didn’t look at her fingers, feeling the awakening pain in her chest yet she felt empty, couldn’t scream, having screamed too much, pleading for mercy.
            "I won't call anyone, I understand, you can stay with me, they won't look for you here, no one will find you. No one followed you, I looked. I'll take care of you; you don't have to worry." Peggy breathed, trying to speak as calmly as possible.
The torn fabric fell to the ground. Peggy knelt down and played with the laces of the shoes, freeing Y/N's feet from the clutches of the uncomfortable looking shoes.
Suddenly eyes shot up.
            “...did they?" Peggy couldn't finish the sentence.
            "No.", "I told you from the beginning that this family would bring you nothing but pain. I would kill your parents; they should be ashamed of themselves and if I were them, I wouldn't even leave the house. They sold you out. Shame on them! Bloody pigs." Peggy yelled indignantly.
Swiftly she rose but Y/N did not answer, glancing after her as she disappeared with hasty steps through the open door into another room and after a few moments in which the only sound filling the room was her heavy breathing she returned cursing with a first aid kit in her possession.
            "Talk to me.", "Tell me what happened." Peggy urged in an almost imperious yet loving tone.
Peggy needed to hear what happened, but again Y/N shook her head, wishing to stay in silence, fearing the words resting on the tip of her tongue, trying to ban the memories from heart and mind. Y/N clawed her fingers into the ragged dress, felt the fibres threatening to cave in, the fibres tearing. The memories rolled in waves, overtaking her like an army, but Y/N knew she had to be strong, that she didn't have a strong shoulder to lean on.
Firmly, she pressed her lips into a line. Sickening sensations spread through her mouth. The nasty taste of copper spilled into her mouth, but Y/N suppressed the urge to spit, to puke.
            "They were waiting for me. They know who I belong to. I couldn’t do anything. They didn't want to kill me, but I think I'm about to die. I won't make it through the night. Today was my last day at work, they waited across the street, followed me and then chased me down like an animal, a deer." Y/N whispered.
Y/N felt like a fool and took a deep breath. White dots danced. The reek was sickening, but no complaint crossed her lips as Peggy wiped the crimson with the damp cloth away. She breathed a low excuse and continued to clean Y/N´s arms and legs.
            "I have seen them once or twice, in a bar with Thomas. I know them.” she continued.
            “What happened after?” Peggy asked hesitantly.
She knew the answer, saw it clearly, the cuts and deep traces.
            “They dragged me into an alley. There were five of them. I didn't stand a chance; they were too fast, too strong, I tried to fight, I really tried, but they." Y/N mumbled.
She closed her eyes, saw the men lunge at her like ravenous barbarians, laughing as tears escaped, hands clenched into fists, cursing and shouting, and when the man noticed more and more blood oozed, they stopped and fled as quickly as they had come.
Peggy glanced up. Flashes of flame blazed, seeing the memories Y/N's eyes reflected, but she continued with her work, disinfecting the deep wounds with the cloth, applied ointments and bandages, hoping it would be enough.
            "Why hasn't anyone picked you up. I would. Why did nobody pick you up? You are a woman, you need protection. I hope you know how I mean it. Yes, you are strong but not strong enough to fight with your fists. I rarely leave the house alone and I am not associated with the Shelby’s. What will you tell your husband? Won't he be looking for you?" Peggy asked.
Y/N laughed dryly. Her head fell back. She bit hard on her lower lip as Peggy apologised for the pain she was causing.
            "Thomas Shelby may be my husband but he doesn't love me. His heart is hard as a rock. He married me because I'm a good catch. His family, every one of them hates me, even the women but the children are nice. They like me, I think or they feel sorry for me." Y/N gasped as the ointment burned into her skin.
Laughing, it sounded bitter, full of pain, Y/N looked down at the ring Thomas had given her, a sign of loyalty, endless love and trust, but Y/N knew as well as Peggy that this was not the case.
            "But what can I do. If it was up to him, he would throw me out of the house. He doesn't need me. My father is a good lawyer, he doesn't care about me and I won't talk about my mother." Y/N breathed, so softly, unsure if Peggy had heard the answer.
She closed her eyes, felt tears travelling down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away, let them flow in narrow streams.
            "That's why I came to see you. What am I supposed to do there?" Y/N laughed bitterly.
Y/N imagined the situation when she would enter the house, she couldn’t call home.
            "I might also be told that it's my fault. I shouldn't have been on the streets. Maybe they will say I need to dress differently. Can I stay at your place tonight? I don't feel like walking to the Shelby's nor my parents, they probably wouldn't even open the door for me." Y/N said.
She did not doubt her words for a moment.
            "Of course, you can stay here Y/N, you can stay as long as you want, you can move in for all I care. Don't you want me to call him? Won't he be surprised if you don't arrive tonight?" Peggy said.
Carefully, she placed her hand on Y/N's knee and slowly lifted the hem of the dress to inspect the blueness more closely. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, knew the answer, knew it well, but the words didn't escape but she was sickened by her own thoughts, by the truth.
            "I don't care, you don't have to call the Shelby's, it's not necessary, but I won't stop you, I want to protect you, don't be surprised if no one cares, but maybe the kids will come to see me. There are days when he doesn't even come home. Maybe he visits local houses. I don’t know, but I suspect it.” Y/N answered.
            “Y/N/N, if you want you can stay for the rest of the week, my parents won't mind and if you don't want to be alone, you can help me with my work tomorrow, you can help me with the dresses." added Peggy, almost joyfully.
Weakly, Y/N nodded, already looking forward to spending time in the presence of a friendly person. She had almost forgotten the pain, but whenever she thought it had faded into nothingness, an unpleasant twinge spread through her chest, bearing hundreds of arrows.
            "Would you like to come to my room? My bed is big enough for both of us, and I'll have a better conscience than leaving you down here alone." Peggy asked, looking up and immediately noticing the tiredness spreading across Y/N´s features.
            "No, I'm staying here and I don't think I'll be able to make it upstairs. Don't worry about me and as you said, no one followed me and I know no one will look for me. At the end of the day, who am I? They don't need me, if I disappear my father will continue to work for them, he never liked me, I'm not his blood after all, I'm just a replacement and my mother, I don't even know when we talked together in peace. And even if I were lying there in the alley, it would be more likely that a dog would find me and lie by my side than one of them fearing for my safety." Y/N spoke.
Satisfied with her work, Peggy placed the ointment and the plasters on the table and rose from her place on the cold wooden floor. Her hair was curled in rolls and a long bathrobe in shades of dark green covered her long frilly nightdress. Peggy took a few steps, picked up the blanket folded on the dark armchair, and lowered it onto Y/N, covering her legs and upper body and placed a soft pillow at her side. Y/N breathed words of thanks and smiled weakly.
            "It will be best if I drive you home tomorrow. It will be better. When do you want me to take you home? Probably not until the afternoon. I'll cook us something delicious for dinner and I'll make you a new dress. I have a very lovely fabric, the colour will suit you well.", “I don't have a home. Thank you, Peggy, I don't know how to thank you, I'm very grateful for what you do for me. Go to sleep, I'll rest too." Y/N whispered brokenly.
Stillness descended and Peggy wanted to embrace Y/N, hold her tenderly as she witnessed the pain blazing in her broken eyes and it was at that moment Peggy realised the woman, a few steps away from her, was only a shadow of her dear friend.
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noforkingclue · 1 year
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Dark!Thomas Shelby x reader request
Where Micheal has a crush on the reader and flirts with her and everyone else in the family has noticed it so they warn Micheal because they know how possessive Tommy is but he doesn’t stop until one day Tommy either sees Micheal flirting with the reader or the reader confides in Tommy because Micheal is starting to make her feel uncomfortable because he can’t take no for an answer so Tommy takes matters into his own hands x
Note: requests are currently closed
I went with Michael and the reader both like each other but dark!Tommy isn't going to allow it. you are Tommy's are he isn't going to let you go anytime soon.
Title: Never Letting Go
Warnings: dark fic
Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshititsfenharel, @lenaskyler02, @elenavampire21, @swordofawriter, @zablife
Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine
Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee
You were Tommy’s.
Everyone knew that.
Well, almost everyone.
It was silent in Tommy’s office. Practically everyone had gone home for the evening apart from the young man sitting in front of him. Michael took a sip of his drink and held Tommy’s gaze. Tommy lit and cigarette and leant back in his chair waiting for Michael to speak.
He wasn’t going to break first.
“Why are you doing this?”
He wasn’t weak.
“What did you ever do that makes you think that you deserve her.”
He didn’t deserve you.
“She doesn’t deserve the way you’ve been treating her.”
He didn’t deserve you. That was the sad, bitter truth.
“And what way is that?”
Finally Tommy spoke. Michael paused, seemingly surprised that Tommy had actually risen to his challenge, although there wasn’t much of one. Michael put his glass down, a little harder than Tommy thought was necessary, and said,
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“You fucking know what.”
“I’m afraid you’re not being very clear.”
Bored, Tommy turned his attention to the paperwork on his desk. Michael inhaled and exhaled deeply. He was not going to let Tommy get under his skin, not this time. You were too important to him to allow Tommy to get away with this.
“Y/n-“
“Is an adult,” Tommy interrupted, still not looking up, “She is old enough to make her own decisions.”
“Not when you keep threatening her.”
“And when have I threatened her?”
“Having people follow her home.”
“She’s an important part of this company. I’m making sure she gets home safely.”
“Warning off her friends.”
“Those people weren’t her friends, they were too unreliable. We need to make sure those around us are loyal. They weren’t.”
“Threatening off any potential… suitor.”
Michael became slightly quiet at the end and Tommy finally looked up. He grinned at Michael, although there was no warmth behind it.
“Thought you wouldn’t mind about that.” He said
“Y/n has a right to choose-”
“And what makes you think that she’ll pick you.”
Tommy leant back in his chair and lit a cigarette as he smirked at Michael.
“Over you?”
“Who else. What can you offer her that I haven’t already given her?”
“She’s frightened of you.”
“Not enough to leave.”
“You won’t let her.”
“Nothing’s stopping her. Or is this another threat I’m meant to have made? Like you said, she has a right to choose.”
Michael stood up and ran a hand over his face. He glared at Tommy who returned it was a bored look. Tommy downed his drink and pointed to the door with his cigarette.
“Your mum is waiting for you,” he said, “Best not to keep her waiting any longer.”
Just before Michael left the office Tommy called,
“Y/n is mine. Everyone else knows that. It’s time you remembered that as well.”
Michael slammed the door to Tommy’s office and stormed out of the building. Tommy was right, Polly was waiting for him. Michael ignored her as he marched down the road. He was aware that Polly was following him but she didn’t say anything until they were away from the building.
“It didn’t work,” she said at last, “I told you but you didn’t listen. When Tommy set his mind to something he won’t change it.”
“I had to try,” Michael slowed down allowing Polly to catch up, “I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Y/n-“
Michael cut himself off and ran a hand over his face.
“I love her,” he said quietly, “And Tommy’s destroying her life.”
“I know.”
“And you won’t do anything?”
Polly’s glare told Michael everything. He quickly looked down at the ground and said,
“I know she loves me too.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Then what do you suggest we do? I’m going to help y/n if it’s the last thing I do.”
“That very well might be.”
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