#Aberama gold x reader

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon

(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk

Tommy🪖

🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.

🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.

🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night

🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.

🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror

🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.

🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”

🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went

🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body

🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress

🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.

🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.

🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.

🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.

🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.

🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.

🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”

🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”

🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.

🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.

🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.

🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.

🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.

🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.

🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.

🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.

🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”

🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”

🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.

Arthur🍺

🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.

🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.

🍺left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.

🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.

🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.

🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.

🍺then you spotted it; the sundress

🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.

🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.

🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.

🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.

🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.

🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.

🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.

🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.

🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.

🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.

🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.

🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.

🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.

John🥃

🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.

🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.

🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.

🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.

🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.

🥃a bit of normality.

🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.

🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.

🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.

🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.

🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.

🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.

🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.

🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs

🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”

🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door

🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John

🥊cannot keep his hands off of you

🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.

🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.

🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.

🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”

🥊”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.

🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.

🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.

🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.

🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.

🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.

🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.

🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”

🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.

🥊He was being extremely difficult

🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.

🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)

🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.

🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.

🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.

🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.

🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.

🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.

Isaiah♟️

♟️haha.

♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.

♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.

♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.

♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.

♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”

♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.

♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”

♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”

♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away

♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”

♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.

♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom

♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked

♟️and on the sofa

♟️and the kitchen table

♟️and then bedroom

♟️(you never took the dress off)

♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways

♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.

♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.

♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes

Michael🎱

🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there

🎱loved how it looks on you

🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.

🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.

🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.

🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.

🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.

🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.

🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.

🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.

🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.

🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.

🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.

🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.

🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.

🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered

🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.

🎱he was there soon thereafter.

🎱and he was fucking seething.

🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing

🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.

🎱how dare you wear that dress?

🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home

🎱but tonight was different

🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you

🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.

🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.

🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.

🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o’course Michael.” You say as you get out the car

🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.

🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.

🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.

🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.

🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.

🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”

🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?” He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.

🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.

🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.

🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.

🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.

🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.

🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says

🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”

Aberama🌞

🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke

🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion

🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.

🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.

🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.

🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.

🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.

🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.

🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:

🌞his gorgeous bride.

🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.

🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.

🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.

🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.

🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.

🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns

🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.

🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began

🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.

🌞make your skin fucking crawl.

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Peaky ⇢ *- Giving Them Head -* ⇠ Blinders ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) multiple characters x reader

⇾ Summary: Peaky blinders characters reaction to you giving them head.

⇾ Warnings: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving) rough (head shoving, hip thrusting) use of pet names, semi public, exhibition? Degrading words.

Aberama Gold:

⇾ Aberama felt the need to be sweet and gentle with your pretty young mouth.

⇾ He’d guide you along with soft words of encouragement, letting you know what you should do.

⇾ “There you go, my love…” or “your doing so good f’me.”

⇾ He’d be relaxed against the chair or bed he was sitting on, arms out behind him as he watched you through hooded eyes.

⇾ His eyes would never stray away from you face.

⇾ Aberama loved the way you looked giving him head, he liked watching as your eyes either watered after so long, or fluttered closed in order to not distract yourself.

⇾ Besides from speaking, I can’t imagine him being very vocal, other than letting out quiet grunts that would edge you along.

⇾ You would make it your mission to try and get a moan or at least a groan from him, but it was proven to be very difficult.

-

It wasnt often that you and Aberama got to have privacy, but when you did you made sure to enjoy the time and make it worth while.

As soon as you both got time alone, you immediately dropped to your knees after pushing him down into the chair in your shared caravan and before you knew it, your lips were wrapped around his length.

He watched lovingly as your head bobbed up and down on his cock, enjoying the way you took your time in order to draw out his orgasm.

Aberama would let his eyes shut briefly before opening them again once he realized so he could focus on on your face. He watched as your eyes squinted the more you took him into your mouth. “S’alright, love. Don’t have to go all the way.” He would breath out, brushing away a strand of hair that fell before your eyes, covering your expression from his watchful gaze.

“Feels so good.” He’d rest his hand on your cheek, caressing lightly as you continued.

Once he’d cum, he’d help you up to your feet, letting you sit down in the chair. “Take care of me so well, don’t ya?”

Ada Shelby:

⇾ At first she would be shy, biting her lip to contain her moans, nervous to have her legs spread for you, covering her face whenever she’d be embarrassed.

⇾ After the first couple of times of giving her head, she would begin to open up to you literally…

⇾ Ada would be more open to trying things with you until she learns how much she enjoys your head in her thighs with her hands in your hair.

⇾ She constantly would be tugging and pulling at your hair to guide you in the position she wants you in.

⇾ There is no such thing as teasing Ada Shelby.

⇾ Her sweet moans would fill the room, encouraging you to do more with your mouth and tongue.

⇾ You’d swirl your tongue around her little bud which would send a string of moans to exit her lips while she would grind against your mouth.

-

“Y/n!” Your tongue flicked her clit repetitively before returning to her hole. Slurping sounds could be heard from down below as you sucked on her pussy, encouraging her orgasm the more you continued.

Your hands found her stomach as she arched off the bed, holding her down. Once you were certain she wouldn’t lift her hips again, your hand would trail up her stomach to her chest, squeezing gently at her tits before pinching her nipples, causing higher pitched moans to fall out of her mouth.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her reactions making her tug roughly at your hair, this time earning a moan in response from you at the feeling of roughness from the girl beneath you.

“I’m…” she trailed off, eyes rolling back as she breathed heavily, “I’m close, love.” She would moan.

This time, you allowed for her to grind herself against your mouth, letting Ada use you to get herself off.

Her hips would stutter as an orgasm washed over you until she rode out her high and was breathless against the bed.

Arthur Shelby:

⇾ Arthur was notorious for being very rough in bed, and you’d expect nothing less when it came to giving him head.

⇾ Depending on how experienced you were, he’d be nice at first (not shoving your head, not thrusting his hips)

⇾ But once he was certain that you were used to sucking his cock, was when Arthur Shelby would truly come out.

⇾ Arthur would be relentless with the way he’d fuck himself with your mouth, practically using you as a warm hole to satisfy his needs.

⇾ Obsessed with making you gag.

⇾ He’d even enjoy the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his length.

⇾ Not afraid to make noises, especially when it came to grunting. He had nothing to be ashamed of, after all it wasn’t him that was being fucked.

⇾ If he wasn’t using his hips (if he was sitting down) he’d guide you by your head, holding you down and making you take everything.

⇾ If you weren’t swallowing his cum afterwards, than you were doing something wrong.

-

You were struggling to breathe through your nose as you were held all the way down until he was balls deep in your mouth.

Sounds of gagging could be heard as you were forced to choke around his cock. “Keep going love, fuck me.”

Once he finally loosened his hold, you would pull yourself of his dick, breathing heavily as you used your hand to get him off while you recovered.

He’d smile down at you, loving the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Arthur would groan.

You would sit on your knees, mouth wide opened as Arthur finished himself off, waiting expectantly.

And as his cum hits your tongue, you would immediately swallow it whole, knowing that if you didn’t then it would be a long day for everyone.

Bonnie Gold:

⇾ Bonnie is a mixture, he gives me very soft dom vibes. Like he could be rough, but in a gentle way.

⇾ He’s not shy about what he wants and after your comfortable in the relationship than he won’t be afraid to ask certain things from you, so long as their within your boundaries.

⇾ While Bonnie is (in my head) a giver more than a receiver, he does thoroughly enjoy the times you give him head.

⇾ He doesn’t expect you to take all of him, nor does he push your head down, but he will rest a hand in your hair, simply just holding it there for comfort.

⇾ He is a man that loves to have his balls fondled with, so if you give him head while you softly massage his balls then he might just burst within mere seconds of you touching him.

⇾ Ensures that your having a good time as well, 69….

⇾ Doesn’t expect you to swallow his cum… unless of course you want to.

⇾ Bonnie is definitely a vocal guy, not afraid to praise you and not afraid to be loud depending on who could potentially be around.

⇾ If his family’s around then he will try to be quiet for your sake, but if it’s other Peaky Blinders than he tends to be louder, for his sake in order to let everyone know what they’re missing out on.

-

You couldn’t help yourself after watching Bonnie once again win another boxing fight with ease, he was just too hot for you to handle.

As soon as he entered the changing rooms you had practically jumped in, smothering him in kisses before helping him clean up any wounds or blood before getting straight to business.

This time he didn’t bother trying to stop you like he normally would, as a matter of fact, he watched with excitement as you dropped to your knees and pulled out his length, immediately placing it in your mouth.

You hummed around his cock as he called out your name, feeling a sense of pride wash over from his reaction.

“You’re perfect…” he slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming pleasure.

He had his hands fisted by his sides before eventually they crept up to your head as he held your hair back and out of the way for you. “Love you.” He groaned, stuttering in the slightest as your hands met his balls.

His hips jerked unintentionally and a string of ‘sorrys’ could be heard from the moaning man. “I’m gonna cum, love.”

He wasn’t able to protest to you allowing for him to cum in your mouth as he was hit with his orgasm, body tensing at the feeling rushing through him.

Finn Shelby:

⇾ My shy boy.

⇾ He’d like to pretend he knows exactly what’s going to happen and that he’s tough like his brothers to not be seen as weak (for example moaning etc)

⇾ But the second your tongue touches his tip, Finn is a wreck.

⇾ Definitely cums in mere seconds the first time, but he’d learn eventually.

⇾ Doesn’t like being rough with you, despite his brothers encouraging him to be as rough as possible, he likes knowing your having a good time as well.

⇾ Will always give you head in return.

⇾ A bit ashamed of being very vocal, tries to keep it to minimal groans, not often moans and a lot of suppressed grunts.

⇾ Doesn’t say much other than your name and ‘fuck’ when he groans.

⇾ Likes to cum on your face rather than directly in your mouth.

-

Finn was on his last straws as he attempted to draw his orgasm out, he didn’t want to cum to quick like the last time.

His bottom lip was between his teeth, his back was pressed against the bed as he avoided watching you go to work on his cock, knowing he would burst as soon as he opened his eyes to look at you.

He hissed as he felt your nails dig into his thighs as you pushed yourself further down his length, the sounds of you choking around him being his final straw.

Finn sat up with haste, shoving your head off of him right as his cum started to trickle out.

He jerked himself off over your face, eyes locked on the way you opened up wide for him, tongue waiting patiently for his seed.

“Fuck…” he groaned, squeezing out the last drop.

He breathed heavily as he laid back down on the bed, chest rising up and down. “Your turn now.” He smirked, watching as you laid beside him.

And just like that, he was up and ready to go again.

Isaiah Jesus:

⇾ An absolute whore of a man, but I love him so it’s okay.

⇾ Has high expectations for what he wants and what you should do for him.

⇾ A man of teasing.

⇾ Will happily deny himself of pleasure if it mean my teasing you with his cock.

⇾ Likes to embarrass you and will make you beg to suck him off. “What do ya’ say, sweetheart?” Or “beg for it.”

⇾ Not a head pusher but a hip thruster on occasion, but most the time he likes to just leave you to do all the work.

⇾ Isaiah definitely brags about your skills to his mates, wants everyone to know what they’re missing out on.

⇾ Tells other women that offer themselves to him that they can’t suck his cock as well as his partner can.

⇾ Teases you about it in front of his friends and is definitely into having you suck him off in a relatively public area.

-

“Please, Isaiah,” you begged, lips pouting as you stared at his cock that he held in the grasp of his hand, shaking it and teasing it in front of your face. “I’ll be good,” you told him, reaching a hand up only for him to smack it away.

“Can’t hear ya’, love. Try again,” he smirked, watching you with amusement in his eyes as your pleading.

The whine that escaped your lips had him tapping the tip of his cock on your lips, tongue darting out to taste the tiny bit of precum that stayed on your bottom lips.

“Please, Isaiah,” you tried again, “I want your cock…” you trailed, mouth watering at the sight of his veiny dick being teased in front of your eyes.

“Alright, open up,” your mouth opened immediately, eyes closing as you awaited the warm pressure to hit your tongue, to which you immediately moaned at the feeling. “There ya’ go…” he hissed as your mouth closed around his dick.

Isaiah groaned as he felt the vibrations through his cock from you moaning around him, enjoying the feeling and taste on your tongue. “Such a little whore for my cock, aren’t ya’?”

John Shelby:

⇾ Like Isaiah, he is very cocky and likes to hear you beg for his dick, gives him a little power trip every time.

⇾ Wont move at all, likes to make you do all the work so he can watch you desperately trying to get him off.

⇾ Sits back, hands behind his head and relaxes while you do all the work for him.

⇾ Expects you to suck him off whenever he’s horny, especially if you’re out in public.

⇾ Will pull you to a private area and expect you to get on your knees for him.

⇾ “Come on, on your knees.”

⇾ Will watch you with a smug smirk on his face.

⇾ Expects you to look at him when you suck him off.

-

Your knees pressed harshly on the stone cold floor of the Garrison bathroom, your hands were placed on John’s thighs as you took him down your throat, head bobbing back and forth.

“Look so pretty f’me. Cock shoved down your throat.” John cooed, smirking down at you as he teased you. “You can take a little more, can’t ya’?”

You nodded your head to the best of your ability, humming around his length as you pushed him further in. “There you go.”

You knew he wouldn’t move, he much preferred letting you do all the work while he laid back and relaxed, but you still couldn’t help placing your hands on his thighs in a way of holding him back.

You kept moving your head, taking his dick in your mouth, feeling the warmth of him weighing down on his tongue. He was getting closer, you knew he was based off the way he grew restless.

You paused as his release came, and it was then that he held your head down, keeping you as close as possible as he shot his load down your throat.

Michael Gray:

⇾ doesn’t often want a bj, most of the time he just wants to fuck and prefers to do so, nothing to do with your skills, just a personal preference of his.

⇾ But when he does, depending on what kind of work day it is, he makes sure your entirely comfortable, won’t push your head down, won’t move his hips.

⇾ But if it’s one of those stressful days where it seems everything’s against him, best believe he will take out his stress on you.

⇾ If you tease him or do something to annoy him, best believe he will give you attitude back, and if you ask him then he will call you names.

⇾ Is a people pleaser so he will do whatever you want him to do, even if it requires being a bit mean to you.

-

It started off slow and passionate, you had been taking his length in your mouth, enjoying yourself as you sucked him off, but you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit bored, as Michael had seemed distracted.

You did what you had to do, gave him a bit of lip before Michael was returning back the same attitude, using his ‘boss’ tone on you.

“Go on then, you want me to cum? Then fucking make me cum.” He growled, tapping the tip of his dick against your bottom lip as you whined. “S’all your good for.” He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t, but boy did it turn you on.

You placed him back into your mouth, this time feeling a lot more enthusiastic, moving at a quicker pace. “Much better, eh? Don’t have to listen to you speak now.”

Thomas Shelby:

⇾ not nice at all, never nice.

⇾ Will force his cock down your throat, and won’t feel bad about it.

⇾ Like Arthur, he is obsessed with hearing you gag around his size, doesn’t think it’s good unless he hears you.

⇾ Would sit at his desk doing work while you suck him off, or if he’s having a meeting with someone over the phone.

⇾ The only time he won’t forced your head down is if you’re sucking him off under the table with one of his business partners sat opposite him.

⇾ Likes to watch you squirm so he will speak of you in front of his family or just other people in general with absolutely no shame.

-

You moved slowly, bobbing your head at a rate where you wouldn’t be choking around his size. Tommy was having a meeting with some man about business, but even that couldn’t stop him from denying his needs.

He ordered you to his office and demanded you sat under his desk while he conducted business with the stranger.

You lifted your head up, prepared to give yourself a breather while you stroked him up, but all of a sudden, Tommy had shoved your head down, clearing his throat and making some noise in order to cover the sound of you gagging. “You can have 5% and I’ll give you a bottle of my whiskey.”

You could hardly hear the response of the man over the sound of your own gargling, but you knew he wouldn’t be happy with deal. Tommy let your head move, but ensured that your lips stayed wrapped around his cock. You paused your movement, using this time to breath through your nose whilst your hand fondled with his balls.

Suddenly you were let up for air, breathing heavily, when Tommy slid out from his desk. “Come on, out you get.” He moved out of your way. “When I come back, I want you bent over this desk.”

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I’m having a very hard time with anxiety at the moment I was wondering if you could do a peaky blinders characters (men) dealing with an anxious reader?

Hello lovely, I'm sorry to hear you're having a rough time at the moment and I hope these HCs can bring you a little comfort!! Anxiety is a rotter and when it gets bad it can feel v overwhelming I know that myself, so sending you lots of love and hugs and vibes <3

Slight nsfw in some places.

Tommy

🌿 When you first met eachother you both tried to hide your dark sides from one another. Tommy trying to hide his criminal activity, his brutal kill or be killed philosophy and his nihilistic world view which allows him to be so callous and cruel when he needs to be.

🌿 You were just trying to be the kind of woman that wouldn't irritate him. For as long as you could remember you'd been an anxious person, timid, easily scared, always caught up in your own spiralling thoughts, as skittish as a foal. You didn't want to get in Tommy's way, didn't want him to think you silly or hysterical...

🌿 So you tried so hard to pretend to be just like the other women in his life, women like Polly, Ada and Lizzy who you were sure feared nothing and nobody. Bold women who spoke their mind without fearing the consequences.

🌿And Tommy would try his best to play the gentle, gentleman. He'd do his best never to raise his voice around you, to always speak a little softer. Always being careful not to worry you, not to let you see his concern.

🌿 Though neither of you realised it for a little while, you were both hiding your true selves from one another because you could see right through one another's little acts.

🌿 Tommy could see the fear in your eyes every time you entered a room, he could see how you did the same as him - checked for every exit, every potential threat, every place to hide. Except he could tell you were seeing threats he wasn't. He knew you weren't like Ada or Lizzie or Polly from the moment he first laid eyes upon you and talking to you, getting close to you, seeing the way you struggled to force yourself to look him in the eye only to tear your gaze away seconds later, well that only confirmed his suspicions.

🌿 And you knew all about Thomas Shelby, infamous ganster, the war hero who threw his medals into the cut, a man quite opposite to you, never fearful, always feared. So his gentleness towards you confused you, made your head spin, left you so bewildered and perhaps slightly paranoid that you were falling victim to one of his tricks, that despite your best efforts you couldn't live up to the ferocity and strong willed reputation of those other women at Shelby Company Limited.

🌿 So despite his best efforts to be kind and careful Tommy Shelby still scares you and you find your anxiety so hard to control around him...

🌿 And though anxious women aren't usually his type he's so drawn to you, his need to rescue you is too strong to ignore. You remind him of a baby bird, a little twitchy and nervous, delicate and precious. All he wants is to pick you up off the ground and treasure you. Make you feel safe all the time.

🌿 He knows exactly how dangerous the world can be for women like you so he can't ignore his protective urge, can't ignore his desire to have you and take care of you...

🌿 Much to your torment then he refuses to let you alone, you can feel his eyes on you whenever you're in the room with him, he never strays far from you and you feel self-conscious worrying what he must think of you being so timid so often.

🌿 But all Tommy can think about when he sees you shying away from others is how he can protect you, how he can get you to feel safe around him... he wants to be the person you feel safe around, the one you look to in a busy room to keep you grounded and calm...

🌿 Deep down Tommy probably knows he should stay away from you, keep you away from his world where you will be in danger all the time, but in true Tommy fashion he thinks he's the only person on the planet that knows how you feel, the only person who could possibly take care of you and be everything you need.

🌿 Very quickly learns the things which seem to set you off, the daily household tasks which you struggle with most and has them taken care of for you... He doesn't say anything to you about this, just quietly deals with all the things he knows cause you dread... It won't necessarily help you get better but he doesn't care so much about forcing you to get better, not if he can keep you happy by taking the stresses away.

🌿 He uses words of reassurance when he can tell you're anxious, he will go over plans meticulously with you if he thinks it will help. However he can tell when that won't help, when you simply need to be told not to worry about a thing. "Don't you think about that now sweetheart, you let me do the thinking on this one eh, when have I ever let you down before eh? Everything's under control, there isn't one single thing you could think of I haven't already thought of so just you shut your eyes, take a nice deep breath, and relax eh? For me?"

🌿 Tommy's very good at talking you down from your anxiety, he'll pull you in close to him, his arms gentle around your waist, his lips right beside your ear as he murmurs reassurance and love to you.

🌿 He will always speak so gently and so carefully to you, holding your hands or your cheeks in his hands, lightly stroking his thumb over your skin to sooth you. He will play with your hair and tuck it behind your ear, stroking your cheek. All these soft affectionate little touches to keep your attention on him and the present moment.

🌿 "Look at me angel, you look at me when I'm talking to you so I know you're listening to me right?" you're so often too timid to look him in the eye when he speaks to you that he always makes sure to get close to you, tilts your chin up so you're looking up at him, and when you try to drag your gaze away he chuckles softly, "cmon y/n I know you're not afraid of me..."

🌿 He always feels guilty when he has to host busy parties because he knows they'll have your nerves in pieces so he always makes sure to come and rescue you, sneak you off for a breather... he'll cut into the conversation you're having, "My apologies, may I borrow y/n for a moment..." with no intention of bringing you back. It always makes you jump because he always seems to sneak in out of nowhere but when you turn around and see him your heart sings!

🌿 He will take you down to the stables, or off into the gardens. The stables is your favourite however, and his too. He thinks its amusing, to sneak down their in your finery, the two of you dressed to the nines stepping through the hay. He'll place you down on a hay bale and admire the view, how pretty you look with your dress and your jewellery, all silky and sweet... and shy. Then he'll sit down beside you and take your hands in his and he'll apologise for putting you through another party. "Y'know I hate these things too, I'd happily burn that bloody ballroom down right now..." he'll be trying to make you giggle, trying to relax you.

🌿 He'll make you dance with him in the stables, sometimes in silence sometimes humming to you... He'll have you resting against him, your feet balancing on top of his to save your little slippers from getting dirtied. And he'll turn you in slow circles, kissing you every now and then, talking to you quietly about how lovely it will be later when everyone else has "fucked off to their own homes eh..."

🌿 Deep down he knows he can't protect you from everything however it's what he tells you all the time, and he definitely believes that himself too, he's determined you'll never be anxious again... But obviously thats not how anxiety works and when he can see that your anxiety has been building and building with no outlet for too long he has other methods of alleviating your stress... Tommy knows that sometimes the only way to dispel that sickening physical anxiety you feel is to scream...

🌿 So when its all becoming too much for you he takes you out riding on his fastest, wildest horse (not so wild of course that he can't control it and keep you safe, simply wild enough that you have the impression of being in a little danger) hell have you sitting in front of him, his arms either side of you caging you in securely, and he'll take you racing across the moors so fast it snatches your breath from you, you'll be screaming, heart racing, adrenaline surging through your body but by the end of it you'll be laughing and rosy cheeked and you'll feel safe in the knowledge that Tommy is there to keep you safe always.

🌿 He'll help you down from the horse and place you down on the grass somewhere in the middle of nowhere, hold you lying back against his chest whilst the two of you get your breath back. And knowing Tommy he'll try to give you some wise little speech about managing your emotions, about how your mind has a way of working against you sometimes, that he doesn't know why it happens - probably because it thinks its helping you to survive- but that sometimes it does and its alright as long as you can reason with yourself, know when your mind is lying to you.

🌿 He takes you down to the stables to meet the new foal and teaches you how to talk to her without spooking her, you watch him in awe as he whispered to her gently and coaxes the timid creature to him, and he turns back to you, his knuckles still brushing the foals face, "see, you're not the only one y/n, she like her peace and quiet too..." he teased beckoning you over to meet her, "here we are girl, brought someone to say hello, there there now don't be shy, it's alright girl, it's alright... This is y/n, she's just like you eh... So she's gonna take good care of you, cause she knows exactly how you feel..."

🌿 Yes, Tommy thinks horses cure everything.

🌿 If you get bad anxiety at night which stops you from sleeping he doesn't mind you joining him in his study. He hardly sleeps anyway and he knows it comforts you to be in his presence. So he keeps a blanket in his study and a rocking chair with cushions for you to curl up. He'll make you something warm to drink or offer you a nightcap and he'll let you sit up with him whilst he works quietly, the two of you in a comfortable silence until you drift off. He always makes sure to carry you to bed when you do eventually fall asleep and often your drifting off is what reminds him he needs sleep too. So you always wake up snuggled up beside him in the morning.

🌿 He'll read to you when you're worn out, or on the days when your anxiety has paralysed you and you can't muster the energy or the stillness of mind to leave your bed. He'll pull the covers back and rest your head in lap, get you wrapped up in the duvet and then sit reading to you, one hand in your hair fingers tangling with your locks as he strokes your hair.

🌿 "it's funny ain't it y/n, when people talk about Thomas Shelby they don't tend to talk about a gentle man...but this is what you've made of me ain't it... This is what you've done to me..."

🌿 Tommy will talk you up in a very measured but determined way, when you're anxious about yourself he will remind you of all your strengths and he'll reassure you that your perceived weaknesses are not weaknesses at all. "Everybody has weaknesses sweetheart, it's all about knowing how to light them up just right..." He's always reassuring you that the things you perceive as weaknesses, such as your anxious nature, are strengths when looked at from a certain angle.

🌿 And he'll never let you put yourself down, whenever you do start letting your demons get the better of you, he'll let you get it all off your chest but he'll never entertain your concerns, he'll be short and sweet about it, "It's funny you know hearing you say all of that with all of that conviction love, cause none of it's true is it?"

🌿 He never fails to let you know how proud of you he is. He's very fatherly in the way he guides you through challenges, always there to give you that little nod of encouragement, the hand on your pack to push you a pace forward when you hesitate. The warm smile, the quiet "atta girl" when you impress not only him but yourself too.

Alfie

🐻 You were Camden born and raised and your family were close with Mr Solomons. He'd known you since you were young and he'd watched a once somewhat precocious child grow to be timid, withdrawn and terribly reserved.

🐻 When you come to work for him as a secretary (a favour to your father who fears sending his timid daughter to work for strangers) Alfie is somewhat relieved to know he'll be able to keep an eye on you. Because he's always been fond of you... Your anxious nature has always brought out his tender side and despite everything, Alfie likes having someone to be soft with...

🐻 And he is so soft with you... It's almost embarrassing the way he treats you in comparison to everyone else and you're certain there's some resentment among the bakers because Alfie never raises his voice at you, never speaks sharply or cruelly to you. You get away with every mistake you make - and that's many because your anxiety has you so deeply in your own thoughts that often your fear of fucking up is what makes you fuck up.

🐻 But Alfie never seems to lose patience with you, he's always there to pick you up, guide you gently, fix your mistakes. "Never mind ziskeit, ain't no point crying over spilt milk... Although this here bread is a little more expensive than milk ain't it... Never you mind though yeah cause thats my problem ain't it, ain't your problem... You come with me yeah, into my office for minute, I'll get you a glass of somethin nice for those nerves of yours and we'll see you're feeling right as rain in no time at all my darlin..." he says putting his arm around your shoulder and guiding you away out of sight from any onlookers.

🐻 he can't help the affectionate way he feels towards you when he can feel you shaking like a little bird and the way he chuckles and says, "look at you, shakin like a little leaf caught in a very bad storm" makes you blush something chronic.

🐻 "Ain't no good at all that is it, nah ziskeit that won't do at all... We'll have to sort this out right away won't we, ain't no time to lose if you ask me..." he'd be tutting and studying your features, pinching your cheek until you smile, looking up at him shyly from under your lashes.

🐻 you've never been scared of Alfie Solomons, you've always known he was a friend to you, but that's not to say he didn't once intimidate you... When you first started working for him you used to jump out of your skin every time he spoke to you, and when he shouted at the bakers or when you could hear him ripping into someone in his office when a meeting had gone south well, he terrified you...Once... Not anymore...

🐻 Because whenever he saw you flinch at his raised voice he would apologise to you quietly, whenever he realised you'd probably overheard the goings on in his office, he'd have you brought to him and he'd spin you some yarn about the bad men he'd sent running for the hills. And he'd always take your cheek in his hand and stroke his thumb over your lips so gently when he spoke to you, told you that there was nothing for you to be worried about, that you'd find yourself held hypnotised by him. It would be impossible not to believe him and so you learned to look to him as your protector pretty quickly. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

🐻 He thinks you're like a baby bird and he tells you all the time, especially when he wants to tease you or see you blush. When he really wants to tease you he'll remind you what a precious young lady you used to be, he'll bring up all the times you gave the younger him a piece of your mind... "And some mind it is ziskeit, fuckin only God knows how scared of you I am..." he's only joking with you but the way he shudders makes you believe him. The wistful look he gets when he talks about the girl you used to be isn't lost on you though and you know he often wonders what happened to see you shrink into yourself the way that you have...

🐻 You're always anxious about getting in the way or frustrating him and so you almost always start your sentences with "sorry" and if you don't start your sentence with sorry it's because your sentence ends with "sorry" sometimes you start and finish a sentence with the word sorry... It drives Alfie up the wall and he makes a rule about "all this saying sorry unnecessarily when there ain't nothin to be sorry for..."

🐻 Whenever you apologise to him he gives you a little warning look, light-hearted enough but enough of a look that it stops you in your tracks. "Now now ziskeit, just what was it we agreed about that word?" "Uh.. if, if I say it I have to explain it?" "Right yeah, yeah that does sound familiar don't it... Yeah I'd say that is what we agreed... So... y/n ain't you gonna tell me then what you are saying sorry for today?" "Uh..." you always trail off because you never really know, saying sorry is just an anxious tick, one of those words which just slips out because you never really feel like you're doing the right thing...

🐻 "Right... Yeah, now thats exactly what I thought you might do y/n... That little trail off you just did there yeah, that's because you don't really know what you're saying sorry for right... And you know the reason you don't really know what you're saying sorry for yeah, is that there ain't no reason for you to be sorry at all..."

🐻 Naturally you open your mouth to say sorry, freezing with your lips parted halfway through the word when you realise what you're about to say... Alfie doesn't need to say anything, he'll just use his thumb to close your lips and give you a gentle pat on the cheek... "There..." he'll say softly, "that's better right, no more saying sorry... You ain't gotta be sorry to me for nothin ziskeit..."

🐻 Theatrical reassurance at the very least, this man will give you speech after speech after speech about how you should never be worried he's not going to want to see you, or talk to you, or be too busy for you, or be angry with you or anything... "Because you see ziskeit, and this is the thing right, this should have been inscribed by the finger of God on Moses' stones yeah... You are the light of my fuckin life right, and there ain't a single thing on this forsaken earth, not a single thing that could ever taint you in my eyes right... I am yours and you are mine and so that shall forever be..."

🐻 He likes to make you repeat that last bit for him everyday, just to make sure it really sinks in.

🐻 Alfie only teases you because he wants to try and build your confidence, he wants to coax that cheeky nature he knows you have out of hiding. So he gets a little playful with you sometimes, tricking you into letting your guard down, showing you it's alright to be yourself when you're with him.

🐻 Alfie praises you so much, he wants to make sure you know exactly how wonderful, how clever, how important to him you are... And the praise always makes you blush and shy away which is an added bonus for him because he thinks you're very pretty when you blush. He's always telling you how brave you are too, reminding you that you're ten times as brave as he is because you get through so many things that scare you, and you face every day even when every day things make you feel like hiding away for ever.

🐻 "As long as you ain't hiding from me my little ziskeit"

🐻 When you're feeling horribly anxious and sick Alfie will wrap you up tight in his arms, squeezing you in a big bear hug so that your body is pressed close to his snug and secure and he won't let go even when you try to pull away. He'll hold onto you and stroke your hair, lift you up off your feet. You can bury your face in his shirt or the crook of his neck and close your eyes or cry or just breathe in the smell of him to your heart's content.

🐻 He understands that you tire quickly, "I don't know my ziskeit look at you, gone an worn yourself out again... Come over here and rest awhile yeah, come curl up by the fire with your old man..."

🐻 He likes to have you curled up in his lap, the two of you sitting in his armchair by the fire in the lowlight of the evening or late at night when you can't sleep. The two of you will be listening to the crackle of the fire with Cyril curled up at your feet.

🐻 Alfie always pretends to be grumpy when Cyril, sensing your anxiety, abandons Alfie in favour of you. The sooky lump will plop his head down in your lap and nuzzle you until he gets your attention, draws you out of your negative thoughts to pet him instead... And Alfie will grumble and say things like "oh I might have known you'd abandon me - your devoted and loyal master for her you rotten old sook" but really he'll be glad to see Cyril offering you comfort, glad to see the smile warm your features when you begin defending Cyril, telling him not to listen to that grumpy old man who doesn't know anything.

🐻 "Oh is that what you think of me now ziskeit? Two betrayals in one evening, my godforsaken heart is in pieces, torn to shreds, you cruel cruel girl..."

🐻 At night he sleeps on his side with you nuzzled in beside him, his arm wrapped around you tight, the weight of his body leant gently against yours relaxing you as you fall asleep.

🐻 If ever any of the bakers do step out of line and snap at you, or if ever he hears them complaining that "that fuckin number girls always getting special treatment.." then Alfie likes to make a display of them, humiliating them in front of the rest of the men so that no one else will ever step out of line. "You wanna come up here and say that again?" He asks tapping on a barrel with his cane, making them get up on top to "present your thoughts to the room yeah? Cause not everyone heard you the first time and well, I'm sure it was important wasn't it... So I'm sure you'd like everyone to know exactly what you said just now about our y/n..."

🐻 And of course no man's ever stupid enough to get up there and repeat themselves. They only ever get as far as climbing up onto the barrel, hands trembling cause they're sure whatever comes next is going to hurt...

🐻 "Right... Yeah... Fuckin silence... Yeah I thought that might happen I did... You see your problem yeah mate, is that in this world right you've gotta pick one of two things right, you can either be fuckin stupid, or a fuckin coward... Now you can't be both right, you can't be both..."

🐻 Safe to say that what does follow makes sure they never say a word again.

🐻 When you do put yourself down, or he finds you getting yourself all worked up about a mistake you made or worrying that you're not good enough he will coax you over to him, get you as close to him as he can whether that's sitting you in his lap or towering above you, your body trapped between him and the wall, his knuckles beneath your chin..

🐻 "Now now my little ziskeit, what exactly have I told you about saying all these nasty, cruel things about yourself yeah? Now I wouldn't let anyone else get away with saying those sorts of 'orrible things about you would I? So how am I supposed to sit back and listen to all that without doing something about it? Will you tell me that ziskeit?"

🐻 Alfie can talk the hind legs off a donkey any day but when it comes to saying positive things about his lass he could talk for days, and he doesn't stop, all these meandering sentences laced with your praises, laced with teasing little threats too to warn you off ever saying those cruel things about yourself again... "Next time I catch you saying 'orrible things about yourself my girl I'll have to make sure you remember the rules right?"

Arthur

🍂 At a glance and certainly judging from his reputation you might assume that Arthur Shelby hasn't got an anxious bone in his body. That he's never experienced anything close to the full body panic which grips you at the slightest sense of uncertainty...

🍂 Especially because Arthur is well aware of the reputation he has as a blazé trigger happy thug and just how important it is that he keeps that reputation up... Arthur makes a show of being reckless, of brushing off everyone else's concerns with a shrug of his shoulders...

🍂 No matter what it is you're worrying about, no matter what it is that has your head spinning and foggy so that you can't think straight for all the fuzz, Arthur always says the same thing...

🍂 "Now don't you worry about a thing my love, nowt bads gonna happen to you my darlin, you're with the peaky blinders, everything's gonna go your way"

🍂 And sometimes it's enough to see someone else so confident, so self assured, sometimes his high energy levels, his apparent through the roof self esteem is enough to lift you out of your anxious pit... Enough to settle your nerves... Because if there's one person you know is always going to win a fight, always going to protect you... It's your Arthur...

🍂 But sometimes it's not enough and seeing him shrug off your worries just upsets you, makes you all the more scared... Makes you worry about other things you hadn't been worrying about before... Like what if you're too meak for him what if he's going to get sick of having a lass who's so "cowardly" and "pathetic"....

🍂 And because you're upset but also worrying about these other things you'll try not to show it. Try to keep it all bottled up, you get quieter, you start avoiding him (which is difficult because Arthur doesn't like to go a day without seeing you!) Trying your best to stay out of his way... Sometimes when you watch him, the way his confidence, his outrageous personality take over a room, the way he snatches up everyone's attention so easily, so proudly, makes you feel a little unworthy of him...

🍂 You love to see him so buzzed and lit up but it makes you a little sad because you know you can never be the same, you think you could never have that kind of spark, that ballsy charisma... That in comparison to him you're nothing but a timid little mouse that most people wouldn't even notice...

🍂 But the thing is Arthur knows more than anyone just what you feel like, how torn up and terrified you feel on the inside, because more often than not Arthur feels it too! He's always so so scared of letting everyone down, scared that he's too much, too volatile, too unpredictable, that he's going to put the family at risk by being stupid, by making the wrong move or by letting his fear and PTSD "get the better of him"

🍂 He's spent years trying to bottle all those emotions up just like Tommy always told him, have a drink and push the feelings down... Grit his teeth through the pain... But he can't. And so he knows just how you feel and he wishes he could find a good way to tell you but he isn't any good with words, so instead he tries his best to help you when he can through his actions.

🍂 Arthur wishes he could hug and kiss your troubles away, wishes that one lingering forehead kiss could cure your nerves, soothe those shivers... But he knows it can't... still that doesn't stop him from trying. He's a little clumsy sure, sometimes he makes you jump when he puts his arms around you and squeezes you tight sure, but nothing can make you feel better like one of Arthur's "everything will be alright" hugs. His mustache tickling your cheek as he kisses you and tries to reassure you, tries to soften his gruff tone for you talking as quietly as he can in your ear.

🍂 Arthur hates seeing you cry, hates seeing you look so scared but you so often do and it hurts his soul to see you in pain, he will do anything he can to try and make you feel better and so he is always bringing you little gifts, always trying to tell bad jokes to make you laugh, always trying to offer you reassurance... Although he doesn't like to focus on the things that make you anxious, he'd rather brush them off so that perhaps you won't give the thoughts so much gravity.

🍂 When you do look up at him with teary eyes though and he realises his assurances aren't working the way that he wants them to he'll take your cheeks in his rough palms and hold your face as carefully as he can, he brushes your tears away with his thumbs and presses a long kiss to your forehead. "Come on now my darlin don't you cry, no tears eh you're with me ain't you, so everythings alright... I know I ain't the friendliest man but you know I'll always look after you eh, you're my girl ain't you, so I'll always look after you..."

🍂 The first time you have a panic attack in front of him you're terrified he's going to think you're insane, scared that he'll think you're hysterical and slap you the way men often do to hysterical women, but when he sees you shaking, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you drop to the floor he recognises the emotional agony in you as something he's been through himself many times before...

🍂 And so he knows exactly what you need, how you need someone to be careful and gentle with you, how you need to be held, your head cradled to him as he gets down on the floor with you, slips his legs beneath yours and bundles you carefully into his lap. He keeps you close to him, reassuring you, telling you to breathe with him, telling you it will pass soon enough and that he's with...

🍂 "Salright my darlin I've got you ain't I, I'm here and I ain't goin nowhere, you're gonna be alright eh, I'm here... Me an you eh, we'll get through this together won't we..."

🍂 He lets you cling to him like your life depends on him, and in that moment it really feels like it does, like he's the only thing grounding you, like without him this horrible feeling would swallow you whole and trap you in a nightmare forever. But Arthur won't ever let that happen to you.

🍂 He'd kiss your hair and rock you, hold onto you for as long as you needed, he'd shush your crying but he'd let you get it all out of your system because he knows how awful it feels to be told to swallow it down.

🍂 And when you were ready he'd ask you what happened, what sent you spiralling and if you wanted to speak he'd listen, concentrating hard so that he can remember every detail, so that he can try and stop it from happening in the future.

🍂 But if you didn't want to talk about it that would be alright too, he'd make a little joke "shit at talkin anyway are I..." he'd wink, hoping to draw a smile on your tear stained cheeks. He'd be so gentle with you, wiping your tears away and then laughing at the dirt he's accidentally smeared across your cheeks.

🍂 He is unfortunately the king of unhealthy coping mechanisms and he would absolutely think he was doing a good thing pouring you a whisky for your nerves... He'll pour the both of you a glass and sit down beside you on the floor, he'll clink them together and help steady your hand as you take a tentative sip.

🍂 When you try to apologise for being dramatic he'll get annoyed, he'll try not to snap at you but it'll certainly come out as a grumble when he tells you not to talk "any of that shite..." It's only because he doesn't want you to put yourself down, only because he hates the people who would let you believe that you were being hysterical or dramatic.

🍂 And then he'll confess that he knows how you feel, knows what that feels like when you feel like the whole worlds ending, that he wouldn't wish that feeling on his worst enemy... That he's only sorry he couldn't do more to help you through it... That you're to tell him if that ever happens to you again because he never wants you to go through it on your own...

🍂 You're really quite shocked to know that your Arthur does in fact have his fair share of fears and doubts but him being honest with you helps build the trust between you so that it runs all the deeper and you become accustomed to depending on him, turning to him whenever you feel even the slightest hint of anxiety.

🍂 He's always there to reassure you that you're perfect the way you are, that you aren't getting in his way, that of course he loves you just the way you are, that you're not letting anyone down... And having someone look up to him the way that you do, does wonders to his own self esteem, knowing he's got someone who depends on him, who trusts him, thinks the world of him, thinks he's the bravest person they know, makes him feel fucking brave and dependable and strong.

🍂 At parties and late nights down the Garrison he'll order your drinks for you, he'll keep you tucked up under his arm all night and he'll introduce you to more of those unhealthy coping mechanisms (staying up all night, drinking, smoking, dancing.... having rough risky sex in other people's bathrooms whilst dazzlingly drunk)

🍂 Will not however let you touch the snow because "see that stuff right it's fuckin amazin but it's fuckin horrible stuff an all, devils stuff, tricks you right, makes you feel on top of the fucking world and then it drops you down in bloody hell and abandons you there and I don't ever wanna see you endin up there my darlin..."

🍂 And if anyone ever says anything about how quiet you are, or how youre always hiding away, how you ain't much of a peaky blinder, Arthur will shoot them that warning look, silencing them in seconds. His eyes growing dark, threatening, looking to the culprit with unforgiving malice in his eyes.

🍂 So people quickly learn that if they haven't got anything nice to say about you they'd better not say anything at all. And the more time you spend with Arthur the more his wild side rubs off on you... Your anxiety never disappears, but some things do get easier with your Arthur by your side because you know he'll never abandon you or let you fall back into that darkness again.

🍂 And Arthur finds that his own anxieties are quelled too, that through loving you he learns that he can be soft, gentle, kind, nurturing, all the things he thought he was incapable of... He learns that he isn't the monster he has grown to believe himself to be... That he has a heart just like any other man, that he is loving.

John

🌼 Now John really doesn't have an anxious bone in his body. If he wants something he goes after it never stopping to question whether he's got ideas above his station, never stopping to question whether or not people will still like him if he prioritises his own needs...

🌼 That's the polar opposite of you and you know people must wonder why you're together, what he sees in you... Why he hasn't left you for someone more suitable, someone a little more fierce...

🌼 Because it is obvious, to everyone, how different you two are and even though John lives in his little world of optimism, despite his own lackadaisical nature, even he's noticed the way your shoulders are always tense, the way you hold onto things too tightly. The way you never stop counting the little ones, even when it's just the family at home.

🌼 At first he thought you were just an attentive mammy, but he's seen the fear in your eyes when you miscount because you're tired, or when one of the kids is hiding under the kitchen table and you lose sight of them for a moment. He's seen how quickly you pale and think the worst, how the tears rush to your eyes...

🌼 And he's felt the way you jump sometimes when you're tired and he's crossed the kitchen to your side a little quieter than usual, when you weren't expecting his arm to snake around your waist to pull you away from the dirty dishes and into him.

🌼 The way sometimes your eyes get this distant fear in them and you stop hearing the things people say to you because youve been sucked into another hole of anxious thoughts spiralling out of control in your mind...

🌼 He'd been drawn to you because you seemed so quiet and sweet, because you blushed every time he spoke to you, because you always looked so lost for words whenever he asked you a question or tried to tease you... You'd been unlike any other woman he'd ever been romantically interested in and that had felt like a challenge... A fun little game to play...

🌼 But the more he'd gotten to know you and understand the kind of lass you really were, the more the urge to protect you, sweep you up off your feet and soothe your worries, grew. The more he wanted to be the one you depended on. The one who could get you to relax a little, the one you felt safe around. He just wanted to give you a warm, loving home where you would feel safe...

🌼 He's so cheeky and always teasing you and his jovial nature makes it hard not to trust that everything will be alright, he believes that so firmly himself afterall... Sometimes his laidback nature is too much and you get stressed he doesn't seem to be planning or taking things seriously enough, however when you do snap or cry he can reassure you completely. Hugs, forehead kisses, an easy laugh as he pats your cheek and tells you everything's under control.

🌼 He will always step up to be the life of a conversation or party so that you don't have to, he'll include you in the conversation by slinging his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into his side, occasionally looking down at you to lock eyes when he makes a teasing comment or a joke made only for you... Has a way of making you involved even when youre shying away from the conversation.

🌼 He's really proud of you, his "beautiful, beautiful flower!" And will shower you with praise all the time, he'll never let you or anyone else forget how important you are and he's always singing your praises, telling everyone what a brilliant mammy you are and how much the kids (and him) adore you, he won't let you or anyone else doubt you for a second!

🌼 He's a very chaotic man, very spirited, and boyish... He often takes a joke to far or gets a little too boisterous, and sometimes when you're feeling easily overwhelmed, senses working overtime, it can all get a little too much and John has to calm down so that he can calm you...

🌼 Sometimes John swears he can see your pulse racing in your throat as your eyes flicker around the room. You're constantly counting the little ones to make sure they're all there... He'll joke with you, come up behind you, hands on your shoulders giving you a little massage all "Relax would you sweetheart, this is a party... You don't need to worry about the kids we're all family here, they're perfectly safe..."

🌼 But when he bows his head to steal a quick kiss from your neck he really does feel how your pulse is racing and your body is shaking and when you turn to him with tears in your eyes he's really taken back.

🌼 "What is it love what's the matter?" Of course the moment he realises how frightened you are he stops his teasing, his brows knitting to a frown, his hand leaving you and reaching into the back of his pants for the gun he keeps tucked away just in case... "Is something wrong?" He asks in that tone which you know is reserved for only the most serious of situations and you feel so ashamed and embarrassed because this isn't a dangerous situation at all, you know it's not...

🌼 So you shake your head quickly and push away from him apologies tumbling out of your mouth quietly but dramatically, much more dramatically than you'd like... "Sorry... S.. sorry John this is just... Too much it's too much..." and just like that you're fleeing, out of the crowded kitchen and into the garden where the rain has sent the mud flowing over the stone path.

🌼 When these sorts of things happen and you run away from him in a panic, John sobers up to the situation pretty quickly, following after you, losing that boisterous streak, softening for you because he knows you need his softer side...

🌼 He'll find you outside in the rain and try to shield you from the weather with his body as best you can, gathering you towards the shade of a tree or the awnings of the roof. Somewhere out the rain, somewhere it can be just the two of you.

🌼 He'll wipe your tears with his sleeves and hold your face in his hands gently guiding your gaze up to meet his, "Why'd you runaway from me flower?" He asks even though he knows the answer now, realises that you had one of those moments where everything just became too much for you, the busy room, the noise of the party, the chatter, bodies having to squeeze by one another and around the furniture... It had all been too much and for a moment you'd lost yourself... And he hadn't noticed your panic until it was too late so he'd not been able to help...

🌼 "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't see it..." he'd sigh brushing your tears with his knuckles, pushing your hair from your face and kissing your forehead before giving you a warm gentle hug, completely surrounded your body with his as he holds you close. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, nuzzling into his shirt as he holds you steady and still. You feel better just for having his arms around you outside in the rain.

🌼 The garden is so peaceful, the pitter patter of the rain off the cobbles, and as John holds you close you feel yourself begin to calm down, your shoulders relax and your head stops spinning. You don't feel so sick anymore and you rest your body against his.

🌼 He doesn't like it when you try to say sorry after your "moments" as he calls them, doesn't like to see you looking guilty when he blames himself for you getting overwhelmed. He'll always tell you, "wasn't your fault sweetheart, don't say sorry for things that ain't your fault..." and then he'll make you promise that next time you'll find him before it gets too much so that he can rescue you in time.

🌼 John is very sensual, and whilst he might be a little boisterous and laddish his healing/love language is definitely physical touch... The signs of your anxiety which he notices first are always physical and his first instinct is always to try to soothe these physical signs...

🌼 He'll run you a hot bath for the two of you to share when the kids are all asleep (he'll have made up some silly story to keep them all in bed and quiet too) and he'll have you lie down between his legs, your head resting in the crook of his shoulder.

🌼 He'll run his hands over your shoulders and down your arms, massaging you in all the places you feel tender and sore, all the places he can feel tension...

🌼He'll bathe you, washing you gently, washing your hair and brushing it for you, wrapping you up in towels afterwards, carrying you to bed, smothering you in kisses, tickling and teasing you, physically relaxing you completely... Hovering above you in bed, scattering kisses along your shoulders up your neck to your lips...

🌼 John definitely knows exactly how to fuck the tension out of you and he's very talented when it comes to replacing that anxious head spinning fuzz with a blissed out kind of cloudiness instead.

🌼 If your adrenaline is all fired up and you've been restless and anxious all day he will have you lie across his lap, or have you sit between his legs so that he can let his fingers tease and then fuck that anxious adrenaline out of you...

🌼 He knows exactly how to take care of you when he's physically tired you out, scooping you up in his arms, letting you sleep with your head on his chest, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your back until you fall asleep. .

🌼 He's always taking on that patriarchal roll, reminding you that he's your man, that that means it's his job to take care of you and look after you... So you can trust him to do just that...

🌼 "I'm your man eh, so trust me..." He'll say holding your cheeks in his palms, close enough to you that his nose is brushing yours as he looks at you not quite serious and not quite joking either. He'll pat your cheek and flash you a winning smile and when he's feeling particularly cheeky and he can tell he hasn't quite won you over he will bring the kids into it too...

🌼 "Katie love come 'ere for a second sweetheart, come say hello to your mammy..." he'll say scooping her up in his arms so that she's resting on his hip between the two of you. "Katie love, dya trust your daddy?" He'll flash you a cheeky smile when she giggles because you both knew she was going to say "Yeah!" Before he'd even asked the questio. "See flower... Katie trusts daddy, so you can trust him too eh"

🌼 John will absolutely make the most inappropriate dad jokes to try and lighten your mood and even when you feel sick with anxiety you can't help but smirk at some of them. They're terrible.

🌼 Whenever you put yourself down John never seems to take it too seriously, not because he doesn't care that you don't think very much of yourself but instead because he can't imagine a world in which any of the things you say are true... He'll laugh your negative self talk off light-heartedly, shake his head, hold your face in his hands as he gives you a kiss and says "sweetheart if you believe all that you're crazier than I thought..."

Bonnie

🍀Is such an observant lad that he tuned into your anxious ways within moments of resting eyes upon you. The way you would sit fidgeting, never able to look at anyone around you for fear they'd meet your gaze, the way he often saw you tugging on your sleeves or chewing your cheek, biting at the tip of your thumb or your cardigan hem.

🍀He saw how you would shy away from others, how you tended to keep to yourself and that if you ever did cross paths with someone else you only ever seemed to manage the word "sorry" as if you were apologising just for being near them..

🍀 He recognises the fear in your eyes when people start gossiping about the peaky blinders, notices how whenever you meet his gaze accidentally you try to hide yourself away... You seem so timid to him, so delicate... All he wants is to take your hand and show you you don't have to be so frightened all the time.

🍀 He's careful, watching you the way he'd watch a foal before trying to approach it, learning your anxieties by watching how you interact with others so that he knows how to go about befriending you without scaring you off.

🍀Watches over you from afar like the guardian angel you don't even know you have... If he hears someone ask you to go into the forest to collect some herbs, or into the city to buy bread, he will come to your rescue either by insisting he take you himself or simply by sneaking off to complete the errand before you even had the chance to start it.

🍀 He gifts you something like a rabbits foot or a four leaf clover to give you good luck and protection, tells you you're his lucky charm too. Something small and sweet that wouldn't mean alot to anyone else but makes you feel that little bit braver when you're trying to face the world.

🍀 Brings you lavender which he makes into an essential oil for you. He knows a lot about different herbs and plants that can be good for relaxing/soothing you. His dad taught him to brew chamomile tea too, whenever he can tell you're having a bad day he'll make this for you without even needing to ask, he'll just bring it to you and force you to stop whatever it is you're trying to do/ fretting over to take a break with him instead.

🍀 He's seen the way your anxiety makes you irritable, seen you muttering to yourself I'm frustration when your day is going from bad to worse and he can't help but think you're adorable... Still, when he sees you snap his heart breaks for you and nothing can stop him coming to your rescue.

🍀It happens one day, you're only trying to fold the clean laundry, taking it down from the line and shaking it out, but the wind is making your task harder than you can handle, blowing your hair in your face, blowing the sheet into you blinding you so that you can't see where you're treading. And when you trip and fall and land clean white sheet down in the dirt you find you've reached the end of your tether and just like that you burst into tears.

🍀You're not crying because the sheets dirty, you're crying because finally all that anxiety and tension you've been trying to bottle up for days now has bubbled over, the shock of your fall and the frustration of the wind blowing you about was enough to send the rest of your emotions cascading down on you like a tonne of bricks. So you just sit there in a heap, crying in the dirt...

🍀Until Bonnie sits himself down beside you, a cheeky but careful smile on his lips as he reaches for your hand.

🍀"What're we doing down here then eh?" He asks, looking at you with gentle teasing eyes, showing you he understands without a word. You just look back at him despairingly, feeling so hopeless and frustrated, your eyes spilling over with tears. You raise the dirty sheet up in explanation and he chuckles. "Well I reckon this'll need washed again won't it, I certainly ain't sleepin on that..." he says taking your fingers and unlocking them from where you'd been clutching at the sheet.

🍀"Never you mind that though little dove," he says shuffling up to sit closer to you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly, "you ain't in any sort of state to be washin sheets are ye?" He'll tease you a little about your sorry state but only ever gently, and he'll never let you feel useless or like you're letting him down. He'll always make sure you understand that actually it's the complete opposite.

🍀 Pulls you up into his lap right there in the grass, holding your face in his hands so that he can look at you and dry your tears. Kisses your nose and then your lips. "S'alright little dove, don't worry about the washin eh, worry about spending the rest of your afternoon with me..." He'll help you with your chores, which probably would have made them take ten times longer, had you been in any state to do them at all.

🍀 Then when you're finished (or when he's finished, having done most of the work for you) he'll take your hand and lead you away from the camp, somewhere you can be alone for awhile. Somewhere no one can burden you with anything else.

🍀 He knows that one of the best things for your anxiety is to tire you out, physically rather than emotionally. So he takes you down to the river to go swimming, splashing you and playing with you in the stream until you're laughing and giggling. He'll sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around you, kissing your shoulders and pulling you back to float with him in the water. Holding you with your legs wrapped around his waste as he carries you back to the bank, lying with you in the grass as you dry off, peaceful and quiet...

🍀He'll have you to sit so quietly with him listening to the different sounds of the woods. He'll teach you the different bird calls and then get you to tell him in future when you're anxious, he'll ask you what bird it is he can hear and it will force you to be grounded for a moment. Lights up with praise when you get it right.

🍀 You'll be lying with him in the grass, the sunlight through the trees warming you both as you dry, his hands wandering your body beneath the shirt he's lent you. His touch is so grounding and the way he holds you close to him makes you feel so safe and secure. He'll make up stories for you as you dry off, telling you tales about the forest, some of them silly to make you laugh, others romantic, about secret lovers stealing away between the trees. These stories are usually whispered in your ear between soft little kisses along your neck, sweet little distractions to take you as far from your anxieties as he can.

🍀 If you ever get the kind of anxiety which freezes you and makes it impossible for you to look after yourself properly Bonnie will excell at playing the patriarchal provider. He can cook and clean pretty well and he loves to look after you and spoil you anyway, so when he can see you're struggling he'll swoop in and save you without you having to ask. He makes you soup and serves it in your favourite mug then sit with you outside whilst you drink it together. He'll do things like wash and brush your hair when you're struggling and the feeling of him combing his fingers through your locks is so soothing for you both.

🍀 One of Bonnie's love languages is definitely physical touch and this is one of the only ways he knows how to sooth your anxieties. He is always showing you physical affection to let you know that he's there for you..

🍀Forehead kisses, hand holding, drawing circles round your palm, playing with your fingers to distract you. He likes to slip one arm around your waist or shoulders whenever you're standing together, holding your body against his so that you can feel him behind you. It's a protective thing, it doesn't just soothe your anxieties but also his. Makes him feel good to be looking after his girl.

🍀 When you're feeling anxious you have a habit of sucking your thumb or fingers, a lot of the time you don't notice yourself doing it but Bonnie knows that you don't like to be seen doing it by anyone else. That it embarrasses you because you think it makes you look childish. So as much as he thinks its kind of cute when you're sucking your thumb, if there's other people about he'll hold your hands and play with your fingers so that you don't suck your thumb.

🍀 Alone at night however, when he can tell you're struggling to calm yourself he will slip his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on him instead.

🍀When you go to sleep at night Bonnie has you sleep with your body on top of his so that your chest is against his and your heartbeat syncs up with his. He likes to be able to wrap his arms around you and hold you down against him, you using his body as your pillow, him able to kiss your hair as you drift asleep. It's the best place for you because it means you can feel him close to you and he knows he's right there if you need him.

🍀 He gives you soft but firm praise whenever you're alone together and you're anxious about your relationship or showing him affection. For as much as he finds your apparent shyness adorable, he wants you to feel safe enough to ask and tell him whatever you want. And he needs you to know how perfect you are to him, needs you to know that he's there for you always. So he's constantly offering you the reassurance you need and always there to tell you how proud of you he is or how good you've been.

🍀 "That's my girl, what did I tell you eh? Perfect little dove, that's what you are..." "Tell me what you need sweetheart, c'mon look at me darlin, talk to me... How can I help? There we go see, wasn't so hard was it dove? Good girl...."

Isaiah

🐀 Isaiah is not wonderful when it comes to recognising anxiety in other people. He just thinks you're a bit timid is all. A bit jumpy. He presumed it's because you know he's a blinder and that that makes your nervous. It takes a long time for him to realise that its anything more than that due to the simple reason that he's doesn't notice it himself and you are far too anxious to tell him about your troubles.

🐀 He affectionately nicknames you his "little mouse" and is always making teasing little remarks about how cute and mousy you are. It gets under your skin at first because you can't tell if he's taking the piss or if he means it when he says you're adorable... But Isaiah never stops, he's actually spurred on by the blush you get, the way your brow furrows into a little frown because you don't know what to say to him.

🐀 For all his teasing though he likes to try and keep an eye on you, make sure you're always at least still smiling. He's not shy about showing you he's there for you and you only either, he'll be next to you in every conversation, he'll answer for you when you hesitate or don't say anything at all. If ever you're talking and other people stop listening to you he's always there making eye contact and nodding, picking you up if others let you fall.

🐀 You spend a really long time hoping that your anxiety will just go away, that one day you'll wake up and you won't have that fuzzy sick feeling in your stomach which has a habit of paralysing you in social situations. But of course that's not how anxiety works and the longer you ignore it the worse it gets.

🐀 Until Isaiah does begin to notice that something is wrong. Because you're growing quieter, more mousy by the day and sometimes when you're out in public he swears he sees you searching for the quickest means of escape.

🐀 At first he doesn't know what to do about it, he can tell that you're troubled but he doesn't know how to get you to open up to him or admit that something is wrong. If you were anyone else, any other graft he would probably just leave you to it, wouldn't pry too much, wouldn't really be that interested in hearing your troubles... But you're not anyone else, you're you, and he has a strong patriarchal urge to protect you, take care of you.

🐀 So he has to be persistent. He tries to tease it out of you, tries to make relentless little jokes to force the issue, doing things which will leave you floundering in the hopes that you'll reach some kind of breaking point and have to explain yourself...

🐀 But it doesn't get that far because he can't stand the guilt he feels when he sees you start to get stressed out, when he sees your expression waver, your eyes growing watery, your hands beginning to tremble. So one day instead of making a dig at the way your hands are shaking when he's talking to you, he takes your hand in his instead. Holds it between both of his and let's out a little sigh.

🐀 "What's the matter love?" He honestly feels a little useless for having to ask, feels like really he ought to know without you telling him. After all you're his girl and he shouldn't be so clueless about your feelings. At least not as clueless as he is now. And of course you try to shrug your shoulders and pretend like everything's fine, you don't want to make him feel bad by admitting the truth.

🐀 But he isn't going to let you kid on and shrug him off so he shakes his head, his frown showing you he's being serious for once. "Don't give me that love, you're my girl ain't you, you tell me the truth..."

🐀 When you do try to tell him you struggle to get the words out, struggle to say it in a way that you think will make sense to him. But for all that Isaiah is often confident and cocky, he understands more than you realise. He knows how it feels to worry before he walks into a room, understands that edgy feeling of uncertainty.

🐀 And even if he can't exactly empathise, even if he knows he's never felt the fear you feel about entering social situations, never been frightened the way you are of busy rooms or men who raise their voices... That doesn't stop him from caring that you do feel that way, doesn't stop him wanting to help you...

🐀 He won't know exactly how he can help but he also won't be afraid to ask you what you need. "Let me help you darlin, tell me what you need..." He'll want you to tell him exactly what he can do to help and then he'll make sure he does every single thing. He surprisingly matter of fact about the whole thing.

🐀 He's kind of accepted that he doesn't get it therefore rather than question you when your anxiety starts playing up, or when you get anxious about something he thinks is actually pretty trivial, he just accepts that you feel the way you do and comes back with "well how can we make this easier?"

🐀 Please I know this is rogue but I really think if anyone was going to CBT you it could be Isaiah? I feel like he'd be really good at setting it all out like, he'll be the most "What is it you're worried will happen? Okay well, here is this other scenario which is pretty mundane but much more likely than all that you've just thought up... Cause if life was how you keep worrying it's gonna be, then I'd be pretty fuckin anxious all the time too Mouse..." I just think he'd be like, matter of fact, but light-hearted and jokey enough to actually really be able to help you rationalise and unlearn negative thought patterns... Which I understand sounds crazy because he's such a hothead in the show...

🐀 To add to that I think a modern day Isaiah would definitely take your anxiety seriously enough that he'd just straight up be like "well how can we get you the help you need?" And have 0 shame about taking you to a therapist or something, he'd be very clean cut about helping you feel better as quickly as possible.

🐀 I think he'd be an "any excuse to get his hands on you" type and would use "oh you're anxious in this social situation" as a reason to have you sitting on his lap, or have his arm around you. He'd never fail to pull the "oh you're so tense, come here..." Line and massage your shoulders just so he can get close to you.

🐀 Again, I think he'd definitely use sex as a de-stress technique too, I feel like he'd be very good at soothingly flirting with you until he manages to get you into his lap or into his bed, kissing your neck, gentle caresses over your body until your eyes flutter shut and you start to come out of your head and into the present moment where it's just you and him... He'd find a way to make you come undone and forget all your troubles.

🐀 It definitely boosts his ego having you always looking to him, dependent on him to look after you in situations which make your anxiety flare up. He loves being the one you come to at the end of a long day, loves the way it's him that makes you smile, your eyes light up, the little sigh of relief when you're finally returned to his arms. He's really proud of the fact that it's him that you turn to when you need help, and that it's him that you turn to for guidance.

🐀 When everything does get overwhelming and you just need to have a huge cry Isaiah will hold you so close, he'll stroke your hair and cradle your head to his chest, and he'll shush you and soothe you but he won't make you feel stupid for crying. In fact when you try to apologise for it he just makes light of it all, "sweetheart I'd be crying too if I had to deal with it, don't say sorry, reckon you're tougher than me..."

🐀 He's always the right amount of gentle and the right amount of joking about things... Most of the time. Sometimes he'll get the vibe wrong, not realise quite how wound up you are, make a joke at the wrong time which earns him a snapping at, or which tips you over the edge and makes you cry. He thinks it's funny when you get feisty because you're tense, but when you cry he feels so guilty and immediately drops any kind of joke so that he can give you a hug and try to make you feel better.

🐀 I feel like he'd be terrible at looking after you when you get "frozen" by your anxiety and you can't do normal household tasks like cooking a meal. Isaiah will certainly try his best to do all the things you usually do, but dinner is going to be a mess, and the kitchen is going to be a mess, but he's still going to do his best to look after you both as best he can.

Michael

☘️ If there's one man who really understands emotional turmoil it's Michael, his experiences in childhood mean he's familiar with anxiety/depression and that means he recognises all the symptoms in you pretty quickly.

☘️ Only thing is he's not much of a talker... He learnt at a pretty early age to repress all his negative, difficult feelings, to ignore emotional problems and just "be a man" but that's not what he wants for you. So it breaks his heart to recognise you struggling but not know how to talk to you about it or try to help.

☘️ So he uses his money and social power to make your life as easy as possible. He'll use his status with the peaky blinders to intimidate others into being nice to you, your boss at work, coworkers, family members, shopkeepers etc... anyone he thinks might not treat you as delicately as he believes you should be treated. If he ever hears of someone raising their voice at you he makes sure they pay.

☘️ He'll make excuses to be as much a part of your life as he possibly can be, that way he can assess the different ways he thinks you might be struggling so that he can throw more money at the problems... Paying for extra housekeepers, for food, for new clothes, your rent so that you don't have to work as many hours and you'll have time to rest... He'll probably accidentally overwhelm you and you'll start to grow anxious about why he's treating you so differently.

☘️ And of course in the end, money can alleviate some of the stressors which aggravate your anxiety but it can't cure you, and every now and then when Michael is forced to accept that fact, he gets really upset with himself for not being able to do more.

☘️ Might sometimes grow frustrated with your anxiety, not because he finds you frustrating but because he's frustrated with himself for not knowing how to help. He really beats himself up about the fact that he isn't doing enough and yet in your eyes he's doing more than he needs to.

☘️ Especially because for as much as you appreciate all the money he spends trying to "fix your problems" all you really want, all you really need is someone to talk to, someone who will understand what you're going through and be there to hold your hand or give you a hug when you need it.

☘️ You won't exactly argue about it but one day when you find yourself on the verge of tears in conversation with him, your fingers trembling, that horrible sick feeling in your stomach, your head all fuzzy with stress, he's asking you what he can do to help and you get desperate... "Please Michael stop it, stop it... You've already done so much fo me I can't stand it... I just... I just need a hug and... I don't know? Someone to listen to me..." You feel terrible and ungrateful for having burst out with it like that when he was only trying to help, but when he hears you he cringes and realises his mistake.

☘️ He'll do a little nervous laugh, pinch the bridge of his nose or rub his face with his hands and sigh. "Fuck," he chuckles, "of course, I've been a perfect fool haven't I?" He'll wrap his arms around you and hold you gently to his chest, lay a lingering kiss in your hair and shut his eyes. For a moment he'll just hold you, cherish you.

☘️ He'll stay up late at night talking to you, listening to you when you're worried about something, trying to reassure you with potential solutions to problems, or simply reassuring you that people dont hate you, or that you haven't upset anyone.

☘️ I think he probably gets anxious too, worries that he's still not doing enough, that he can't provide for you the way you need someone too. Michael will have to face a lot of his own fears, learn to talk about feelings and share his thoughts and emotions with you so that you can both depend on one another and feel confident depending on one another.

☘️ When you get anxious about his love for you he can't help but laugh your concerns off, when you worry that you're too much for him, that he'll get bored of you because you think you're a handful, he always has a witty line to fire back with before he gets deadly serious. Because if there's one thing you're not it's Too Much.

☘️ If you voice these doubts late at night when you're lying side by side in the dark Michael will sit up, turn the lamp on and make you sit up so that he can look you in the eyes and tell you how much he loves you. "I don't ever want you to doubt that my love, my heart will always belong to you..."

☘️ He'll kiss you and say it again between kisses, holding your hands and guiding you closer to him, only satisfied when he's got your body pressed tightly against his and his lips are free to scatter you in kisses whilst he whispers his love for you whilst you drift to sleep.

☘️ Because of your anxiety and the fact that you have a tendency to dwell on your worries and fears Michael will try to keep you as far away from his family and the family business as he possibly can. He'll be pretty successful too, keeping you almost completely naive to his criminal side. As far as you're concerned Michael is the perfect New York gentleman. He's always working behind the scenes pulling his strings to keep you safe, but you don't notice a thing.

☘️ His family think you're sweet but terribly shy and Michael doesn't want to give them the opportunity to get to know you any better than that. He'd father they think his wife plain and timid than have you get to know them and realise the darker side of his life. He likes being your gentleman, and his family would be a threat to the peaceful sanctuary he's been trying to build for you at home.

☘️ Michael really likes to be in control of things, in fact not being in control is something which makes his own anxiety flare up, and so being in a relationship with Michael means you never have to worry about anything... No tricky decisions, no fretting over organising events or running the household. Michael has tabs on everything and everything runs smoothly and logically.

☘️ At times when your anxiety is so bad you feel like you can't function or do anything Michael will help you with every detail of life from helping you pick the perfect dress for the evening, choosing what you eat at the restaurant, speaking for you at social events, deciding how you spend your day, which chores you can do etc... he can and will organise every minute of your day for you so that you can get some semblance of order back in your life when you feel everything slipping...

☘️ At the same time however his favourite form of escapism is to literally just up and leave. When your anxiety is particularly bad and truly exhausting you he knows the perfect way to help you is to take you somewhere out of the city, a beach resort, a romantic European city... As long as it's warm and as long as its world's away from New York. He'll take you to a spa, spoil you rotten with gifts, organise the perfect week away for you. Let you live in a romantic dream world for as long as you need to to feel happy and peaceful again.

☘️ Deep down he knows that facing your fears will help to ease your anxiety, but he'd be a hypocrite to tell you that when he has so many of his own issues that he leaves unaddressed. And then there's the fact that he knows how much pain and stress you have to go through when facing those fears in order to get over them... He never wants to see you struggle, ever, not even if it's be good for you in the end... He'd rather construct a dream world for you to drift around in safely for the rest of your days.

Aberama

🐇 Being a fair bit older than you he's got far more life experience and though he was never particularly anxious in his youth he's certainly mellowed out with age. He's a very peaceful, calming presence and that's one of the things you love about him. The fact that just being around him is enough to settle your nerves a little.

🐇There's something do gentle about it, but so quietly self-assured that you know you'll always be safe when you're with him. He doesn't have to tell you -but believe me he does- for you to know he'd do anything for you.

🐇Just as you are drawn to him because his self-confidence and peacefulness soothe your anxieties, he is drawn to you because he can see how much you need someone like him. He's so endeared to you from the moment you first say hello. You're so shy and you look around the room the way rabbits look when they're twitching shivering and fearful.

🐇 He's so nurturing and he has that world weary wisdom too, any problem you present to him he can either come up with a simple solution or he can shrug his shoulders and say with such certainty that it'll all be fine, or that it isn't worth worrying about, that you have no choice but to believe him and put your faith in him. At times like these he will often ask "do you trust me y/n?" And your answer is of course always yes. There's no one on earth you'd feel safer putting your trust in.

🐇Honestly he Daddys you to pieces. It's been awhile since he really had someone to take care of and he's missed it so much. Taking care of you let's him feel useful again, makes him feel like for all the bad deeds and sins he's committed in life, he's got the chance to do some good in taking care of someone as precious as you.

🐇 He's really talented at curating physical comfort and he understands how much a calming, safe environment can contribute to calming anxiety. He builds the perfect sanctuary of a home for the two of you, lots of blankets, low lighting, candles, incense etc.

🐇 He makes a mean Chamomile tea and teaches you the family recipe... even then, he's always the one who makes it for you and will get you all cosy wrapped up in blankets in the vardo, bring you your chamomile tea and then sit with you in his arms quietly listening to the rain on the roof or the sounds of the forest/ fields/ river outside.

🐇 You love listening to him tell you stories. His voice is so soft and lilting that no matter what stories he's telling you you always feel so cosy, safe and relaxed by the end. You often drift to sleep whilst he's recounting an old folktale to you and stroking his thumb through your hair.

🐇 He will do his best to show you that you'll always be safe with him, that he'll never let anyone hurt you, that no matter what the problem is he'll always be there to work it out with you. He gets the balance right between "wanting to wrap you in cotton wool so you never feel anxious" and "wanting to help you learn how to cope/overcome your anxieties" and his way of striking this balance is to do everything with you, he never lets you go through anything alone and when you're having days where you don't feel capable of anything he will acompany you on every errand, help you with every chore - even the most simple things like bathing yourself, cooking/ eating, going to the shops...

🐇 He will draw a bath for the two of you and you'll wash together, he will wash your hair and wrap you in a towel afterwards, but he'll encourage you to help yourself too. The same when cooking, he'll sit and peel/prep the food with you, sharing each task between you to lighten the load, but keeping you busy so that you get the selfesteem boost from finishing a task.

🐇 When you need to escape he'll take you on the road just you and him, off into the wilderness where you can be immersed in nature and reconnect to the earth. The city, Birmingham being as grimy and busy as it is, is one thing that rages your anxiety and so Aberama is careful to make sure you get plenty of time away, out in the countryside. He'll take you foraging as a way of unwinding you, its the perfect combination of "slow, peaceful activity" and "task that requires a little concentration" he teaches you to recognise different plants, berries, mushrooms and will be so proud of you when you begin to learn and forage things for yourself.

🐇 He really believes that napping with your love beneath the shade of a tree on a summers day can solve all your problems and honestly, when he has you held in his arms, soothing you to sleep with some meandering story about the very tree you're sitting beneath, you can believe that he's right.

🐇 If theres something really really getting to you, a worry you just don't seem to be able to shake, Aberama will take you to a faerie tree to tie your wish to it

🐇 Lights a fire and wraps you up in a blanket, the two of you warming yourself by it as the night ages. He'll sing you to sleep with dreamy folksongs, the two of you watching the embers smoulder before you finally drift off and he carries you to bed.

🐇 He is so soft and reassuring whenever he speaks to you, you often get anxious about your relationship, you fear abandonment or that you are too much for anyone to ever really be able to love, and knowing you feel these things hurts Aberama's heart. So he does his best to gently reassure you of his love for you night and day. He makes sure its the first thing he tells you every morning and the last thing he says to you as he kisses you goodnight.

Taglist

@inalovesrabbits-blog @liliac-dreamer @cocoaflowers @impossibleheartflower @call-sign-shark @mollybegger-blog @itsghostgirlyo @marwwfairy @toddlerbodybag @everysage @kas3yhatesyou @kxnnxy @starrykitn @only-malala @galactict3a @vanhelsingsbigtoe @darkcastle167 @feyresqueen @hp-hogwartsexpress @niktwazny303 @user469908764 @shylobster2020 @zablife

[call-sign-shark]

The Month of Sin Masterpost

A masterpost for all the works that are related to the requests sent for event “Peaky Blinders Kinktober”.

If you want me to add you in the taglist so that you don’t miss the kinky and steamy stories, please comment or reblog this post. It’s even more important considering how Tumblr tends to mess with us lately.

Thank you again for your participation, you’re the best community ever and I hope I’ll do Justice to your fantasies.

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd @dreamy-caramel @lanadelreylover010 @anime-lover-forever-1127 @2pacl0ve

Day 1: BREATHE - Breathe With Me (Tommy x Reader)

Day 2: CUT - Cut Your Wings (Alfie x Reader)

Day 3: MARKED - Engraved in The Flesh (Finn x Reader)

Day 4: AFTER CARE with Finn

• with May

Day 5: ROPE BUNNY with Arthur

Day 6: DRUNK with Tommy

Day 7: BLINDFOLD with John

• with Aberama

Day 8: CREAMPIE with John

Day 9: PRAISE with Bonnie

Day 10: SIZE with Alfie

• with Luca

Day 11: POWER with Michael

Day 12: ORAL with Bonnie

Day 13: BREEDING with Alfie

Day 14: BLOOD with Tommy

Day 15: TAMED with Arthur

Day 16: DENIAL with Tommy

Day 17: DADDY with Michael

• with Aberama

• with Alfie

• with Arthur

Day 18: PUBLIC with John

Day 19: THREESOME with Tommy and ??

Day 20: LEASH with Arthur

Day 21: KNIFE with Isaiah

Day 22: STRIP with John

Day 23: OVERSTIMULATION with Tommy

Day 24: CAR with Tommy

Day 25: PUNISHMENT with John

Day 26: WORSHIP with Luca

Day 27: BEGGING with Tommy

Day 28: CORRUPTION with Arthur

Day 29: BLASPHEMY with Arthur

Day 30: AGE GAP - Tangled Desires

[rysko]

Rysko's guide to the galaxy - Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Hiya! Welcome to my Peaky Blinders blog, i've been in the fandom for a few months now (late to the party, i know xD), but i've only started writing in late december. I'm finally doing a masterlist so i have an easier way of accessing shit (and maybe ya'll will as well). It'll be updated after every published work.

Want me to write something? My requests are open, rules are posted here.

Ongoing Series:

Kings of Spades - Luca Changretta x OC

Other fics (sorted by character):

Tommy Shelby -

(Coming Soon)

Luca Changretta -

Too old for this - Luca Changretta x f!reader

Arthur Shelby -

(Coming Soon)

Alfie Solomons -

(Coming Soon)

Aberama Gold -

(Coming Soon)

- MORE CHARACTERS TO COME -

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

~

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

[runnning-outof-time]

K’s Reading List — JUNE

Hey there! Thanks for stumbling upon this reading list! I figured that as a way to support the lovely writers within this fandom that I’d compile a reading list of all of the stories I read over each month.

June was a wonderful month filled with incredible stories. Below is the list of stories that I read. I hope you will find some that you like as well!

As always, please make sure you heed to the warnings on each fic!!

@fallatyourfeet

No Negotiations - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@darklydeliciousdesires

Improper - Young!Luca Changretta x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Storm - Tommy Shelby x Reader Drabble — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Arthur Shelby Drabble — contains slight 🔞 NSFW themes!

Untitled - Tommy Shelby x Reader

John Shelby Blurb

@zablife

Nothing Gold Can Stay - Tommy Shelby x Reader, Aberama Gold x Reader

Stolen Kiss - Tommy Shelby x Reader Drabble — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

John’s Return - John Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

A Night At Delux - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@shelbywhiterose

Mio Amore - Tommy Shelby & Reader , Luca Changretta & Reader

@brummiereader

Uptown Girl - Tommy Shelby x Reader (on-going series) — some future chapters may contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

@holacia3

Tommy Shelby x Magic-Time Traveler Reader - moodboad and blurb

@little-diable

The Devil’s Son - Cowboy!Tommy Shelby x Reader AU — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB's Recommendation List: March

Welcome to March’s recommendation. Down below is the link to February’s part 2 featuring Peaky Blinders, Bucky Barnes, and more. March is a very busy month for me, I’m traveling all over to see specialists, so there may be more stories than usual, or there could be fewer. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, or your stories, or even just your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you are enjoying the new theme on the blog for March, as St. Patrick’s day holds a special day in my heart. My folks got married on that day in an intimate ceremony and again in July in a bigger ceremony many years ago, before many of your parents got together.

🌹 Feb. '23 Pt. 2

March '23 Pt. 2 🍀

Masterlist

A Handsome Stranger >> John Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Me and The Devil >> Alfie Solomons x Reader (Moodboard)

In Death's Realm >> Fortunate Souls Playlist, "Death has feelings, death weeps, death feels anger, death has hopes and dreams, and death has a heart."

Have It All by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Keep Us Safe by @zablfie >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Make A Good Thing Bad >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella (Moodboard)

My Darling Tommy (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x Reader "I do not think such a smile or happiness will be known till we are in each other's arms once more."

Lighthouse Vacation (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

Happy Birthday Buck (Moodboard + Drabble) >> Bucky Barnes x OFC!Sparrow Lake

How About Now by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Polly Gray x Aberama Gold (Moodboard) "Across the vast quantity of multiverses, Polly Gray always fell in with Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold himself fell madly deeply in love with Mrs. Gray."

The Blackbird and The Lionheart (Playlist) >> Polly Gray x Aberama Gold

HEADCANON'S:

Being Finn's Twin Sister by @mindful-of-ideas >> I loved seeing more Finn Shelby on my dashboard.

ONE-SHOTS:

Fireflies by @acewritesfics >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Extended version of her Moodboard and Blurb. | Did I cry? Yes. Would I read it again? Yes, times a million. It's such a beautiful story, yet so sad.

A Handsome Stranger by @zablife >> Vampire!John Shelby x Reader - Summary: You meet a handsome man one night in a club who makes you feel a powerful desire for him. The events of the evening grow increasingly strange and difficult to comprehend. | I did not see that end coming at all, but then again, with all of Lee's writing, she always takes me by surprise with her endings! I hope to see more vampire!Shelby family.

BLURBS:

Pizza and Champagne. by @peakyscillian >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: A peek into your and Tommy's life. | So good, and I would love to have a night like this with Modern!Tommy.

Three's A Party by @peakyscillian >> Tommy Shelby x Reader x Ginger!Lady - Summary: You and Tommy have a threesome with a frequent female patron from The Garrison. Tommy thinks he just might be in Heaven. | This is so very hot. Please enjoy it.

MINI-SERIES:

Keep Us Safe by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Family history repeats itself when your daughter is taken by parish authorities. This time Tommy won't let them get away with it. | This story will make your eyes water and your heartache, but you will see a father's true desperation to do whatever it takes to make his family whole. Lee, you did such an outstanding job with this story.

What About Now by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy has been hard at work with your children Charlie and Ruby, planning something extra special for you. | This is very beautiful, and I absolutely adore it. Tommy puts so much effort into doing something for his significant and evolving his children. Be still my heart.

DRABBLES:

Request: Ties and Baton by @dameronscopilot >> Steven Grant x f!reader - Summary/Request: Okay, but now that you’ve mentioned it, Steven using his tie and batons on the reader. | I read the warnings, I promise I did, but I still did not expect it to be as hot as it was.

ONE-SHOT:

Favorite Kind of Trouble by @amhrosina >> Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock - Summary: Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room. | Be prepared to read something that has just the right amount of spiciness to it.

Present by @crazyunsexycool >> Alpha!Stucky x Reader - Summary: Reader has never presented as a beta, alpha, or omega, but she still managed to find the loves of her life. If she isn't presented, then why is she in the middle of a mission, cramping and hunched over, craving her two loves so badly? | If you are looking for some spicy Stucky x Reader, look no further. This will have you covered.

SERIES:

Push & Pull by @milkymoon2483 >> Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OC Hannah Friedman - Summary: You’re going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama, but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM, your dad’s long-time friend and probably the most attractive man you have ever met. When Frank finally sees you and realizes that you’re all grown up, he struggles with accepting his budding feelings for you. | Please do yourself a favor and go and read this, especially if you are on a Frank Castle kick or if you are a sad bunny like me. This story is just perfect. The emotions that are portrayed through the writing are just beautiful.

ONE-SHOTS:

Can You See His Silhouette? by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: You get your period and without anything to help you with it, you're mortified. Luckily Joel is there to help. | This is really sweet, leaving me wishing for Joel to take care of me.

Compass by @frenchiereading >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: You receive an unexpected visit that threatens to tip over the fragile balance you’ve been trying to maintain for the sake of your love, your family, and your marriage. Set about a year after the events of the movie. | Grab some tissues for this one, folk, because let me just say, you'll need them.

Crossroads of His Heart by @jake-g-lockley >> Frankie Morales x reader - Summary/Prompt: “would you acknowledge my feelings for you if i kissed you right now? you can’t seem to take a damn hint, [name]”, Glancing at you but immediately looking away when you catch them, Almost kissing, but someone walks in. | Can you tell I'm on a Triple Frontier kick, and I'm getting my fix? This was so adorable, especially the cotton candy scene.

Lush by @javierpinme >> Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!Reader - Summary: You buy a sex toy and accidentally send a request to your hot neighbor to join in. | Is this really hot? Yes. Did I need to splash cold water on myself after reading? Very much so.

Stay by @dameronscopilot >> Kacey Dutton x Reader - Summary: When a downtrodden Kayce arrives on your doorstep at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and shares unexpected news, reigning in the feelings you’ve harbored for him for years becomes exceedingly difficult. | I'm a big fan of Yellowstone, and Kacey is my favorite character, so I freaked out when I saw this. It's something I didn't know I needed and I want more of in my life. Please go read if you are a fan of Lukas Grimes or Yellowstone!

Worth the Risk by @melodygatesauthor >> Santiago "Pope" Garcia X f!Reader - Summary: You're visiting your hometown on college break, and you are staying overnight at your best friend's house. You never realized how attractive her dad was until that night. You wonder if he feels the same. | An Oscar Isaac character *chefs kiss* and some spiciness, just what everyone needs.

The Wow Factor by @movievillainess721 >> Frankie Morales x Plus Size!Female!Reader - Summary: You now owe Santi a favor. | Can something be adorable and hot at the same time? Well, this was.

MINI-SERIES:

*Grays Part 1 & Part 2 by @fuckyeahdindjarin >> Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader - Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head. | I only give you the summary of part 1, but trust me, you will want to read both parts. Part two is spicy, but part one is the teasing, and I just love this so much.

MOODBOARDS:

Arthur + Wedding by @acewritesfics >> Arthur Shelby x Reader | Arthur and Reader sneaking off just warms my heart. I need more Arthur in my life now.

Men (Modern AU) by @dreamlandcreations >> Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons - Blurb | TOMMY'S WHAT?!? Alex does a wonderful job making your jaw drop. Beautiful moodboard.

Your Eyes by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby - Poem | Such a beautiful poem and moodboard, Selene.

@acewritesfics - Ace was one of the very first Peaky Blinder writers I followed on Tumblr when I returned, and I'm so glad I did. I don't just follow her peaky content. I follow because Ace is so kind in her feedback on other people's content and just encouraging. She is definitely someone you want on your dashboard.

[red-riding-wood]

Hello! If you didn't come here from my masterlist, here is where you can read my other works!

I'm open to writing pretty much everything -- angst, smut, fluff, etc. I specialise in dark!fics and nothing is too wild here (though I reserve the right to decline requests if I don't feel comfortable writing it) but will try my best with all requests and welcome a variety.

(But I'll love you more if you send me the most twisted, filthiest shit.)

I will add or remove characters to those I write for as I feel up to it, and will cross out those who I am not currently open to receiving requests for. **(Currently only feeling inspired for writing Cill characters.)**

If you send on anon and do not hear back from me about your request in a day or two, this means I have accepted your request.

Currently only accepting MxF requests, will likely do x reader, 2nd person POV if not specified, but I can happily write from third or first person POV as well! If you'd like it specifically from one character's perspective, or whatnot, please let me know that, too.

CILLIAN MURPHY

Tommy Shelby

Jonathan Crane

Jackson Rippner

Robert Capa

Neil Lewis

Raymond Leon

Tom Buckley

Emmett (A Quiet Place)

Jim (28 Days)

Jonathan Breech

Robert Fischer

Jim (The Delinquent Season)

Lenny Miller

Will add more as I watch and rewatch more of his films! If you have a character to request who's not on this list, send it in anyway and I'll watch what I need to for it.

PEAKY BLINDERS

Tommy Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Luca Changretta

Aberama Gold

Alfie Solomons

John Shelby

GAME OF THRONES

currently closed

EDITS/GIFS

If you'd like to request a GIF set, I'm also open to requests but know that I don't do these very often! Here is my masterlist for edits.

Cill characters

Peaky Blinders

Game of Thrones

← MAIN MASTERLIST

[a-libra-writes]

The Peaky Blinders Meeting Your Family

In This Preference, You’ll Be Bringing Along: Thomas Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Ada Shelby, Polly Gray, Michael Gray, Alfie Solomons, Lizzie Stark, Isaiah Jesus, Luca Changretta, Aberama Gold

eyyyy just in time for the holidays

Tommy Shelby

While he keeps his impassive face, the way he impatiently makes the dinner plans, dresses nice, smokes too much and tries to go for a second drink gives you a feeling that Tommy is on edge. He’d like to meet your family at a nice dinner at his mansion, to show them he’s deserving of their approval, even if you’ve told him they don’t want to make a big deal of it. He's nervous as hell about meeting any parents and siblings you love because disapproval means you might have to pick between them and him, and not only does he not want to put that stress on you — he’s terrified you’d choose them.

Once the day arrives, you watch him get less and less nervous as the night goes on, which is a relief. While your family would have suspicions about his business and wealth, they’re obviously glad you’ll have a comfortable life. After they leave, he brings you to his lap and sighs deeply. Now that it’s over, all that anxiety leaves him exhausted and wanting comfort.

Arthur Shelby

Arthur is petrified, which you expected, but he also wants to do his best. Your family is important to you, so he’s met a few people here and there, but this feels like a big deal. He wants to be on his best behavior, to look and act his best. Arthur ends up bouncing from extreme anxiety to cautious optimism, and the evening before, could hardly sleep. By the time they show up, he looks like a kicked dog. It actually works in his favor — he’s clearly trying so hard to impress them and make them comfortable that they can’t help but accept him… and it’s obvious how much he adores you, so that’s points in his favor.

Naturally they know nothing about the true business of the Shelby family or Arthur’s role in that. They don’t need to. Even when the visit goes well, Arthur’s so drained, he just wants to curl up in your arms and relax. Screw cleaning up, leave it for tomorrow. He just wants to hear you say he did a good job.

John Shelby

John pretends to be confident, or at least indifferent. He thinks it’ll go well. Why wouldn’t it? He may have met a few family members here or there, and surely you’ve talked about him. You’re happy with him, so really, this dinner is just a formality. Nothing to worry about. … Well, by the time the evening arrives, he’s clearly battling nerves. They only know the legitimate side of the Shelby business (because why would you say what they really get up to) so he feels like he has to put on an act. Maybe they expect a rich, put together man. Or maybe he should be more outgoing and make them laugh. You have to reassure him several times over before they even get there.

While he’s clearly tense through the evening, he probably ends up finding something in common with an uncle or cousin, and anyone who fought in the war. You didn’t want him drinking too much, but it does help John loosen up and talk more easily. The visit goes well, as you hoped, though he’s not so sure he’d go out of his way to see any of them besides holidays. He’s too worried about slipping up and telling them something he shouldn’t.

Ada Shelby

The nerves don’t kick in until she sees all the cars rolling up to your shared home and everyone coming out to greet you. You wouldn’t have guessed she was nervous, though — Ada easily puts on a smile and brings them all inside for the dinner you both made. Most family members think she’s just some single mother you took in as a roommate, while others have suspicions … but for the most part, it’s an easy and tiring evening. You and Ada make a formidable hosting team, and it’s easy for her to talk about the Shelby company in a positive light. It’s what she does most of her day, anyway.

When everyone’s gone home and you’re both cleaning up, Ada is surprised by how many of them she got along with. They were so normal, so happy… it was a little surreal. She wouldn’t mind going along with you to visit them during holidays. It’s a shame you can’t be 100% truthful about your relationship, but that keeps your family from meeting her’s. And in her book, that’s a relief.

Polly Gray

She wasn't too worried about meeting your immediate family, but she was happy you wanted to introduce her. Though Polly said you didn't have to, secretly your insistence makes her happy. It means she's important to you, even if they don't know the true romantic nature of your relationship. She wants to create the perfect illusion of your rich, sophisticated boss who is so appreciative of you that she invited your family to a ritzy company party. Polly makes sure the boys have zero chance to crash it, and probably recruits Lizzie and Ada to help you both host it. And, a busy party means they aren't watching you two carefully. So if you need to step away to settle your nerves, Polly can go comfort you.

After the party, you're both drunk and exhausted, but giggling with delight at your victory. Polly hides how relieved she is that it went off without a hitch, but she won't hide how pleased she is that your family liked her. Hopefully now they won't bother you about leaving the big scary city.

Michael Gray

Michael scoffs at the idea of having some big family gathering. He’s pretty stubborn about it, asking if he can’t just meet a sibling for lunch or something. While his attitude annoys you, you begin to realize he’s nervous and trying to hide it. Michael would rather avoid them entirely than run the risk of your family’s disapproval — especially if you’re close to them and value their opinions. He worries they’d see through the confident facade he tries so hard to project… Of course, you tell Michael it’s only natural they’d want to meet the man you’re dating, and not to fret so much.

You have to reel him in from going overboard on the luxuries, and you both settle for a fine dinner. He’s clearly uncomfortable, though trying his best to converse with your genuinely kind family. When the evening is over, his nerves are soothed just a little. You have a feeling it’ll take several more meetings before he’s fully comfortable with them.

Alfie Solomons

Alfie figured this would happen eventually. You two had been getting pretty serious, even if he hadn’t exactly planned it, he was happy being with you and your family was important to you. You had no doubts about how well Alfie could pull it off — indeed, he went along with your planning (a nice, casual lunch) and made a point to his men to absolutely do not contact him unless the goddamn bakery was on fire. He’s perfectly charming and amiable in spite of his rough appearance, making a point to be gentlemanly to your mother and discuss business with your father. If you have younger siblings, he’s great with them, too.

While Alfie would never make a habit of these visits — he’s too busy, and he can’t risk them finding out what he does — he signs his name on alongside your’s for holiday cards and says hello when you’re on the phone with a relative. Sometimes you feel guilty with the ruse about his “busy job”, but ultimately, it’s for your family’s safety.

Lizzie Stark

While initially calm, Lizzie becomes increasingly nervous as you both plan the dinner with your family. She puts on a smile, but when she thinks you're not looking, worry instantly crosses her face. When you talk to her about it, she keeps wondering, "What if they don't like me?" Even if your family knows nothing of your real relationship and of Lizzie's past (or anything about the Shelby company for that matter), she still finds herself fretting about their approval. You'd never guess her fears on the evening of the event, though.

Lizzie dresses impeccably and easily converses with your family on different topics. They're pleased you have such a clever "roommate" and feel better about you living in the city alone. Once the night is over, she's exhausted and more than happy to curl up in your arms. Lizzie just melts when you tell her how brilliant she was. She’s not so sure she’d make a habit of this, but it could be pleasant now and again.

Isaiah Jesus

He’s a mixture of excited and nervous when you tell him about your plans. This is a good thing, right? It means you’re getting serious about this relationship, right? He may have met a sibling or two, but this is the real deal. Isaiah’s only real family is his father. Sure he’s had boys in the Shelby gang he grew up with, but he always felt a little apart from them. While he considered pulling out all the stops with his Shelby connections to impress them, ultimately you two decide on a more casual outing.

Which, in hindsight, he appreciates. It’s easier for Isaiah to be himself, and after a drink or two, he’s finally relaxed and easily talking with them. He’s naturally sweet and funny, so your family is endeared to him. Afterward, he heaves a big sigh and flops over on you. Meeting with your siblings and cousins isn’t so bad, but your parents kind of intimidate him.

Luca Changretta

He anticipated this meeting; it was only proper, and lord knows his parents were eager to meet your's. It's a painfully traditional affair: An expensive yet classy restaurant, formal clothes, the right amount of wine and a beautiful view of the New York skyline. Luca is always gentlemanly with you and his mother, but tonight he amps it up and extends it to your mother as well. Small talk and conversations come easy. Naturally, the true nature of his family business is obfuscated, not that it's difficult. They have plenty of legitimate fronts.

While Luca is fairly relaxed through the evening, he's genuinely moved when your parents thank him for looking after you. Afterward Luca soaks up all your praise about how well he did, taking it in like a pleased cat. Truthfully, he'd feel terrible if something went south and your family disapproved of him.

Aberama Gold

His eyes light up when you suggest the idea of meeting your family. To him, it’s another step in the relationship, and you’ve already met his many family members and children. He would like it to be a more informal meeting, like lunch at your home. It was sweet to see the enthusiasm he put into cooking and helping you tidy up. When your family arrives, he’s the same gracious and charismatic man you’re in love with, with a little extra flair and tall tales.

While Aberama lies about his true occupation, he won’t lie about his Romani heritage or children from his previous marriage. He figured you’d told them, or they would be accepting of it. He isn’t a man to be ashamed of who he is. Once the house is empty, he’s already kissing and cuddling with you, happy you let him into this part of your life.

[warnersister]

How the peaky boys react when dating a girl with a praise kink (nsfw) -> headcannon

Goes without saying, nsfw warning

Find the request here, sorry it took so long

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had you figured out before you’d figured yourself out.

🪖He knew what was going on in your head before your did.

🪖You were working late one Friday at the Garrison, of course many working men joyously engaging in Friday night drinking and drunkenness while their wives whittled wistfully back home.

🪖You weren’t expecting the Blinders tonight, but of course you’d always find room for the Peaky boys in this establishment, regardless if you were chocker with customers that the bar didn’t really have the capacity for. The door chimed and you spun, peering to see if you had the numbers to accommodate the x amount of customers you had walking through your door.

🪖”Evening boys, meeting or drinks?” You ask, readying yourself to go clean the business Roman that was wordlessly their property. “Just drinks tonight, love” Tommy answered with a small smile and you nod, placing your hands on your hips; balled into fists while you ponder around to find their empty table.

🪖You notice a table of rowdy youngsters occupying the usual Shelby spot and you narrow your eyes at them, internally questioning if you had the inner morals to boot paying customers out of their seats.

🪖”Be a good girl and get us a booth please, sweetheart” Tommy asks, well instructs, as he lights up another cigarette.

🪖He noticed the way your eyes darkened at his request and your lips parted slightly. You nodded. “Of course Tommy, give me a moment lads” you say, heading to the young gentleman to ask them to either head to the open seats at the bar or get gone.

🪖"hiya lads, sorry to bother.” You say as you approach the lot who look at you in question “but I’m afraid we need this booth, happy to serve you up at the bar or I’m sure another will open soon” you wince, apologetically. One scoffs. “Why should we? We’re paying customers?” He asks, beginning to instigate somewhat of an issue, when Tommy swoops in “I believe she asked you nicely” he grunts, and it was almost awe-strucking watching how fast the boys scampered out the door with mediocre apologies.

🪖Thomas wanted to test his small hypothesis again, placing a gentle hand on your lower back “such a good lass to your old Tom, aren’t you?” He hums and he watches as your jaw slackens and you swallow on your own saliva, beginning to stumble around a response. “My pleasure, Tom”

🪖And then a few months later, when he’d taken you out a couple of times you were more widely known as Tommy’s girl than you were your own name.

🪖It was again a Friday evening, usual crowd shuffling to their places and so were the boys.

🪖“evening boys” you smile, handing an older man his shandy as he makes his way back to his missus who was still sipping on her gin.

🪖“evening sweetheart” Tommy smiles, leaning across the bar to peck your lips as the rest of the boys head to their normal spot.

🪖business as usual

🪖you begin pouring their beers automatically, following Tommy to the table with umpteen pints and of course an apple juice for John, whom you’d cut off from alcohol.

🪖“good girl” Tommy applauds as you hand them their drinks, quiet enough that the rest of his rough crowd didn’t hear but loud enough for you to become unsteady on your feet.

🪖you didn’t know when you’d agreed to go home with Tommy. You don’t even remember locking the door to the Garrison. But now he had you buried deep beneath him as he rutted into you and there was nothing you really cared about more right now. If there was a problem you can deal with it when you were finished.

🪖he was trying to coax it out of you. Trying to coax out the fact that you revelled in it when he praised you. And it got him off to see that when other blokes such as Harry called you a ‘good lass’ for a decent shift, you didn’t bat an eyelid.

🪖“Come on love, got one more in you haven’t you?” You shook your head at his question, almost hoping that he’d let you rest after your third. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t you want to be a good girl for your Tommy?” He asks and you nod up at him through dazed eyes. “Hmm?” He asks, holding your jaw still with one hand while the other held him up above you. “Please. Please Tommy. Wanna be good for you” you mumble out, and he smirks - rutting into you at yet again, another relentless pace.

🪖”that’s it. Such a good girl f’me. So so good” he praises as your moans progressively get louder as you mewl beneath him.

🪖and eventually, when you’d both calmed down, he looked at you and smirked “good girl aren’t you?”

🪖”shut up Tom.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Eats that shit up, no crumbs, licks the plate clean.

🧸already kind of babies you, he doesn’t mean too. You’re a few years his younger and as your husband he sees it as his job to protect and provide for you while doting and taking care of you like any good man should.

🧸then one night he comes home a bit late from the bakery, readying to apologise when he’d noticed you’d just finished cooking dinner. “Well here I was all soppy and ready to apologise to you, yeah. And no, my good little girls just gone and made dinner!” He says, almost chuffed. You giggle and plate up the food, sitting across from him as he begins to eat.

🧸”what ‘y doing over there, then?” He scoffs “c’mere.” He instructs as you move to sit in his lap and he relishes in the meal you’d prepared “you’re so good to your old man, aren’t you?” He hums “so so good” he exclaims, only trying to show his appreciation but he noticed your pupils dilate at his words. He brushes it off, nothing major.

🧸later in the evening his sciatica was playing up so you wordlessly left the room to go draw him a bath with some new salts you’d bought from your elderly neighbour whom your husband refused to speak to on account of her being ‘a witch’ as he said.

🧸”oh you are a good’un aren’t you, poppet?” He hums, as he enters the room, allowing you to help him undress and get into the bath, afterwards preparing to make your leave and get him some medicine from the cupboard downstairs.

🧸”and where do you think you’re going?“ he questions, and you raise a brow “to get you some medicine” “I need no such thing. Now get in here w’me.” He grunts and you do as he says, never one to turn down a good relaxing soak in the bath with your husband.

🧸”there you are, good girl aren’t you? Always listening to your old man. What did I do to deserve you. So perfect” he rambled, and doesn’t notice the ever hazing glint in your eye and when he finally looks down at you he narrows his eyes and finally realised what that look was.

🧸his praises got you going.

🧸”tell y’what would make y’old man feel so much better,” he hums and you cock your head ready to help his pain ease “if you be a good girl f’me and give us a distraction” he suggests and you see the smirk unveiling under his beard, as he reaches for your thigh to pull you over his lap and to settle atop of him. “Seeing as you asked so nicely” you mumbled into his shoulder, as you began to rock against him.

🧸”there you go, there’s a good girl” he says as you come undone on top of him and collapse onto his chest, stroking your back gently with one hand and holding you close with the other. “Y’want to move, poppet he asks?” And you shake your head, eyes closed as you recover.

🧸 as soon as his sciatica pain eases up, he was going to abuse that little trick as often as he could.

Arthur🍺

🍺poor baby needs just as much praise as you do. Thinks he’s a shitty partner

🍺but god when he found out it was like finding the fucking Magna Carta.

🍺it was his ticket out of everything. Came home drunk? “I’m so sorry, you’re so good for putting up with me” In a fight? “you’re such a good wife for patching me up” literally anything you’re not agreeing on? “Oh my good girl”

🍺he’d found out when you were already buried beneath his, mewling as he took out his frustrations on you rather than the man he was originally destined to kill that day.

🍺”y’better feel good about y’self.” He grunts “man’s life was saved cause of you, you and this fucking insatiability.” He thrusts and you groan “please” you number “hmm? Feel good? Little saint you are, fuckin’ angel. Stopped me killin’ a man. Wanna get me into heaven do y’angel? Huh? That’s where you’re sending me?” He asks and you groan louder.

🍺”yeah, cause you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” And that’s when you let out the most gluteal pornographic moan that almost stopped his movements, instead it pushes the throttle and sends the both of you over the edge.

🍺”god Id’ve spared hundreds of men if it meant I got to hear that from you”

John🥃

🥃The Shelby family were enjoying an afternoon at the Garrison. Given, it was incredibly backed with gang members and people dissimilar; still the atmosphere was was light and full of laughter.

🥃you’d volunteered for the Saturday shift seeing as Harry needed extra help nowadays seeing as the customer numbers were ever growing.

🥃John was flirting with you, as ever. While you just rolled your eyes at his antics and offered him another drink.

🥃”blimey, I need to drop drinkin’ the hard stuff. I’m seeing an angel!” John feigned surprise, as he took his cap off his head to greet you, plopping it onto your own as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly. “And I’m seeing a man who’s had one too many. I’m cutting you off” you warn, wagging a finger at him. “Well I do like a lady who takes care of her man” he smirks, but was cut off by a voice that altered the atmosphere in the bar.

🥃”I am looking for Thomas Shelby” the voice announced, and you felt uneasy; John’s face darkened as he clearly recognised the man who was a stranger to yourself. You look to the rest of his family who have a similar stature to him on their faces.

🥃”get behind the bar flower” John mumbles to you calmly, “that’s a good girl. Stay down there, sweetheart” he coos as you duck your head out of sight and into the small crawl space under the kegs.

🥃As the conversation continued, John looks over the counter to you discreetly. And your large doe eyes look back, and he could see the trust in them. He leans his hip against the oak bar edge, holding his hand over and motions for you to give him your own. You thread your hand with his, and he strokes the back of your knuckled gently; giving it a squeeze as Harry instructs them to take this out of his pub.

🥃John gives you one last reassuring squeeze of the hand before grabbing an empty beer bottle and heading out the door with his brothers. A few minutes, a couple of shouts and a gun shot the three walked back in as if nothing had happened.

🥃John leans over the bar “y’alright now, good lass” he says as you peer back up and get back up from your seat on the bar. He rests his arms against the wood and grins at you. “Let y’old John reward you f’ being such a good girl, hm?” He raises a brow and honestly expects nothing from his advance.

🥃you look at the clock on the wall and decide Harry could fend for himself for a while. You look at John and wet your lips, leaning down and grabbing his collar to bring him closer to you. “Meet me in the back”

🥃He jumped over the bar.

Bonnie🥊

🥊revels in it without really meaning too.

🥊also uses it to his advantage. He doesn’t mean it, honest.

🥊you were knelt in front of him, sitting back to rest on your ankles as you wrapped his hands for his fight. “You’re so good t’me, thank you angel” he thanks, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

🥊he knew what he was doing to you. Trying to get in your head.

🥊since he’d fallen hard and fast he’d decided that you were it for him. You were his and he was yours and nothing else. Especially when you agreed to live out his gypsy fantasies with him and give up the traditional home you were so accustomed too.

🥊and he was convinced you’d make the best mum.

🥊so this little praise obsession of yours was the perfect way to sway you onto his wavelength.

🥊”you’re gonna be great tonight, Bon” you say, smiling at him comfortingly. “M nervous” he mumbles and you shake your head, holding his hands in yours “it’s gonna be fine, just go out there and do your best. I’ll always be proud of you.” You say and he seems to settle slightly. “Y’d be such a good mother, darling” he tells you, moving some loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.

🥊he notices a slight blush on your cheeks, and decides to pry. “BONNIE; TIME!” His dad shouts through the door and you tap his leg, standing up to give him his good luck kiss. Instead, he slowly walks you back until your back hits the wall, two wrapped hands caging you.

🥊 “hmm, would’y like tha’? A mammy?” He asks and you stare up at him with dazed yet wide eyes. “Oh you’d be such a good mammy. So caring, so sweet. Y’so good t’me imagine how good y’d be to a young’un.” He hums, resting one hand on your waist. “So, so good” he bumps his nose with yours. “Then I’d marry y’a.” He continues “be a good wife too. The best. Such a good girl” he coos and you audibly whine and he smiles.

🥊”y’d like that? Gonna let me make y’a mammy?” He hums, ghosting his lips over yours “BONNIE!” His dad reiterates and Bonnie huffs. “Y’can do whatever Y’want to do to me, bon” you reply hazily and he smiles as you lean up to kiss him deeply, pulling away to lean your forehead on his, hands cradling his face. “After your fight.” You nod and he raises his brows “promise?” You smile back “promise.”

🥊fastest knockout he’d ever done.

Isaiah♟️

♟️uses it against you. Purposefully

♟️defo teases you for it

♟️you’d be at the garrison, having gone accompanying your twin brother Finn and expecting to see your boyfriend there eventually when you weren’t in your usual spot at home.

♟️he’d turned up around half and hour after you had, only looking to get a drink defo not looking for you.

♟️he sees you at the bar, yet by your side was some bloke he didn’t recognise. Some six foot slime ball with his hair slicked back so far it looked like it created a permanent surprised upkeep on his eyebrows. His suit was brand new, Isaiah assumed the tag was still tucked into a pocket somewhere for him to return and scrounge in the morning.

♟️and why were you talking back?

♟️you were drinking something dark, presumably the alcohol Isaiah preferred for you not to have.

♟️had he bought it you?

♟️Isaiah stormed his way over, fully prepared to lay out the man talking to you and throw you over his shoulder and lead you straight out of the pub; but the conversation you were having with the boy stopped you.

♟️”what d’y say love, wanna get out of here?” He asked “and for the fifth time. No. My husband will be here any minute. He’s a blinder y’know?” You scoff “well he ain’t here now, is he?” He asked you when Isaiah sweeper in and pressed his gun to the man’s temple “isn’t he?” He asked, cocking it as the man before you swallowed and visibly began to sweat.

♟️”I suggest you take yourself out of this pub, out of Birmingham and fucking away from my woman.” He grunts, and the man immediately scampers. Then Isaiah looks to you, and the relief decorating your face is immediately apparent.

♟️”oh Isaiah I’m so sorry I tried to get rid of him-” you begin and then your boy begins to smile “your husband?” He asked, raising a brow cockily and you begin to rock back onto your heels “just wanted to get rid of him” you mumble, and he wraps hands around your waist and settles them on the small of your back.

♟️”you’re so good to me, aren’t you doll?” He asks, smirk growing “rejecting other men f’me?” He hums and you nod “y’know good girls get rewarded, don’t you?”

♟️or when you’re not behaving as he’d want you too.

♟️”where d’y think you’re going?“ he asks as you open the door.

♟️”Ada invited me for drinks” “y’not going, not safe. Not w’them Italians crawling round” he instructs, expecting you to shrug off your coat and come join him in the lounge. He turns but hears the door click shut. And when he’d looked, you were gone.

♟️he was fucking fuming, livid, murderous.

♟️and when you’d shown back home at 2 in the morning, hiccuping, he was already stood at the door with his arms crossed.

♟️you smiled “hi Isaiah” you giggled, but he didn’t say anything as he walked you backwards and your back hit the wall. “In what fucking world does a woman not listen to her man?” He asked and you were immediately silenced. “Hmm?” He asks “why did you think you could just go out without me, you know how dangerous it is” he says “well-” “good girls don’t disobey their men, d’they princess” and he noticed how you cowered and sunk into your shell.

♟️he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, rutting into you in the bedroom more times than you could count telling you how disappointed in you he was and every time you were close to release, he’d stop and tell you why you didn’t deserve it.

♟️he loved torturing you.

Michael🎱

🎱so belittling with it.

🎱loves to use it against you whenever he can because it always means that he wins

🎱the first time he’d sussed this little predicament of yours out was when you were entertaining him while his brother dealt business with your father deep within the Cotswolds.

🎱you’d served him tea and polite conversation, talking about your purity and how much he idolised you.

🎱”and you’ve no husband?” He asked and he placed his cup on his saucer you and you straightened your posture before responding “no, no husband” you confirm and he is forced to stifle his smirk “well you’d make the perfect wife” he tells you and he notices how you swallow harshly “well that comes appreciated, mister gray” you reply and he narrows his eyes.

🎱and then when you were married and doting on him, he’d always remind you of how he impacted you.

🎱he knew just how to get to you. “Dear, go be a good girl and fix me a drink” and you’d do so. “I’ve got to go to London for the week. Be a good lass and don’t leave the house” and you wouldn’t.

🎱and sometimes he’d take you to family meetings. Personally believing that the women shouldn’t really be at these meetings. But a quick slap to the head from his mother soon sorted him out.

🎱and then he walked in on John shamelessly flirting with you, and he knew full well you weren’t meaningfully engaging with his cousin, it’s what you were taught to do from a young age. But still, you were engaging.

🎱”flirting with my woman, John?” Michael grunted, entering the room to which the former rolled his eyes “just showing her what a real man could give her” he winked at you before swaggering out of the room. “Why did you entertain him?” “I didn’t-” “thought you’d promised to be a good girl for me tonight?” And that shut you right up. The desire to be praised overpowering all.

🎱 “how ‘bout you make it up to me tonight, sweetheart?”

Finn🎞️

🎞️for his whole life, Finn has always been overshadowed by his older brothers. So being able to have so much control over you was so addictively intoxicating that he just loved to abuse his power.

🎞️and he’s at that age in his early twenties when his hormones are heightened and all he wants to do is act like a rabbit in a hutch during mating season.

🎞️and sometimes you weren’t up for it.

🎞️not until he figured you out.

🎞️he’d had you going for three rounds. Overwhelmed from how his brothers had been belittling him all day during business meetings and finally finding a vector to take it out on.

🎞️you’d come undone beneath him, very exhausted from the relentlessness of his actions, when he blurted out “fuck you’re so good at this” as he released inside of you. You mewled and whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Again” you mumbled and he raised his brows “you sure?” He asked and you opened his eyes as he recognised how your irises had deepened two shades and smiled giddily “well alright then”

🎞️so whenever he needed something or someone to release his frustrations on all he had to do was stroke your cheek and call you “my good girl” and you were pretty much tearing his clothes off.

🎞️and even sometimes when he’s upset he uses it to tell you just how much he appreciates you. When times are particularly hard and when he just can’t cope with situations; he’d let you hold and cradle him and rock him back and forth while silent tears sunk down his face “you’re so good to me” he’d mumble over and over again in a sleepy voice until he’d fallen asleep in your arms and you’d manoeuvred him into a comfortable position as his arms tightened around you.

Aberama🌞

🌞oh god this man is insatiable.

🌞defo calls you his ‘good girl’ and doesn’t give a fuck who hears it.

🌞likes to shelter you from everything in this horrible world, thinks it’s his job to protect and shadow you from anything. You were just a dainty young thing with no clue, someone had to step up and he decided he was the man for the job.

🌞just loved to take good care of you so those for eyes stayed innocent and undamaged. Bare and pure unlike his that were darkened and locked with such an intricately pessimistic past

🌞one day Thomas Shelby decided to pay a visit to the camp and Aberama had beckoned you over and you did as you were told, he motioned for you to lean closer as you approached him. “Need you to stay out of the way for a while sweetheart, can you do that for me, is that alright? Just until he goes?” He asks with sweet eyes. You smile and nod at him “good girl, off you go” and you were off into the woods to pick some berries for a recipe you had an idea for.

🌞eventually he’d come looking for you, find you deep into a bush trying to reach a berry that you’d just had to have but couldn’t quite get too. He’d stayed back for a while, leant against a tree while he admired you. Until he’d felt the masculine desire to aid his lady. Coming behind you and placing his hands on your waist as he leant to grab the berry for you. You’d gasped but turned to see him, smiling brightly at him. “Thank you” “anything for you” he replied, pecking your lips gently.

🌞”always willing to help my special girl” he says “can always count on you can’t I?” And the grin turns into a gaping expression, wide and heavy eyes looking at him and he’d decided he had to have you right then and there.

🌞he’d hiked the skirt of your dress up to your waist and told you how much he appreciated you as you screwed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

🌞then he’d carried your worn out, sleeping figure bridal-style back to camp with your basket selection of berries resting in his arm as he looked down at you lovingly.

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Bonnie ⇢ *- Words To Make You Swoon -* ⇠ Gold ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) Bonnie Gold x reader

⇾ Summary: reader cleans Bonnie up after a boxing fight.

⇾ A/n: I love Jack Rowan, I’m so sad to find there’s no fanfic for his character Sam in Born to Kill, he did so good in that show. I’m tempted to write some, but it’s relatively old at this point, would anybody even read it?

⇾ Warnings: mentions of blood (its a fight, what more can you expect)

Bonnie was a man of many talents and he truly was unlike any other man you’d met. Most boys were assholes, only caring for themselves and their cocks, but Bonnie was different. He cared for you, loved you, he was truly the perfect partner.

There was nothing that you loved more than seeing that bright smile on his face whenever he won his fights.

So, you stood in the crowd of mainly men, hand cupped around you mouth as you cheered on your boyfriend during his fight, shouting as loud as you possibly could that you were certain your throat would be sore the next day.

You watched him duck under punches, narrowly avoiding some heavy hits, before returning a punch of his own occasionally. You were aware of the plan that him and his father had in order to gain more bets, he was drag the fight out into the later rounds, and make himself appear weak with not a lot of skill, but that was far from the truth.

You never like watching him get hit, even if he ended up being alright in the end, but as you watched him fall to the ground from a hard hit that his opponent got him with, you couldn’t help the fear you felt as you watched him lay face down on the ground, breathing heavily, when all of a sudden he slowly got up, gaze meeting yours as he winked in your direction.

You rolled your eyes, for once disliking the arrogant smirk on his lips when he stood to his feet, pretending to stagger around for a bit before he was deemed alright to continue the fight.

Luckily for you, the fight came to an end shortly after, and Bonnie with blood coating his cheeks had won the fight via knockout. You cheered happily, clapping loudly for your man who was paraded around the ring by some of the men.

Before the room could get to crowded by the rowdy men, you slipped out silently and made your way to Bonnie’s changing room, wanting to avoid whatever fights would follow from the men that lost their bets.

It wasn’t long after that Bonnie and his father Aberama were returning to the changing room as well, Aberama sending Bonnie in alone once he noticed your presence.

“What did ya’ think?” Bonnie asked, walking up to you and standing in front of you.

“I thought you actually got hurt.” You replied, grabbing his towel and wiping away some of the blood from his face. “You scared me.” You admitted.

Bonnie’s hand met yours, caressing your hand with his thumb. “Nothing to be worried about. I always win.” He reassured you a smug smile on his face.

You scoffed, shaking your head at him but not being able to contain the smile that showed. “You were great though. Very entertaining.” You answered his prior question.

“Just entertaining?”

“Entertaining, hot…” you trailed off, hand sliding down to his bicep. “But also very bloody, now sit down and let me take care of you.” You urged him to sit down on the seat so you wipe away the rest of the blood.

“I’m only bloody because I kept getting distracted. I didn’t know you were wearing that tonight.” He said, his hands staying on your waist and pulling you close to him, holding you as you used water to wash away the blood.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t come to your fights then, if this is the result.” You suggested, knowing that he would disagree with you on that.

“But then who am I meant to show off to?” He smiled.

You sighed dramatically, running a hand through his damp hit. “Your father? The people your meant to be showing off to?” You listed off.

“I only care for your opinion.”

Bonnie’s words could never failed to make you swoon.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[pacifymebby]

Christmas Morning

Congrats on 2k follows 🫶🏻

For the Christmas asks what do you think each of the Peaky Blinders men would get for their partners? How would Christmas morning look for them when they’re opening their gifts?

Tommy

🌿 I think for Tommy he's torn between feeling like Christmas should be a totally sacred day for family and family only...

🌿 the football match in the trenches on Christmas is probably something he holds dear and so he believes that Christmas is a day of peace and goodwill to all men... After many Christmases alone, Christmases of loss and sorrow

🌿 But he's also all too aware that not everyone else honours the day in the same way as he does, especially his enemies... so Christmas is a half and half kind of day to him, he wants to spend it with his family relaxing and being in the arms of everyone he loves, but he also knows he can't afford to put his schemes on hold, can't afford to drop his guard...

🌿 so he still sleeps with a gun beneath the bed on Christmas Eve and he still lies awake listening for the sounds of intruders, paranoid as he is... You tease him, "who's that for? Father Christmas?" And he lets you get away with your teasing because it's Christmas...

🌿 Tommy doesn't sleep well, but he knows half of the fun of Christmas morning for the kids, is that it's the only day of the year they're allowed to wake mummy and daddy up as early as they like...

🌿 so even though Tommy would usually be up at the crack of dawn, on Christmas morning he forces himself to go back to sleep, or at least to pretend to be sleeping until the little ones come bursting in jumping on the bed to wake him up..

🌿 he's usually so relieved to hear their little footsteps down the hall, and most of the time he wakes you when he hears them so that their jumping on you doesn't come as a sudden scare... Sometimes though he can think of nothing better than to let them make you jump... Because when they do and you squeal and get that little fright, it's the perfect excuse for him to wrap his arms around you and play your protector as he gathers the little ones up for cuddles too.

🌿 He probably pretends to have some order on Christmas morning, pretends he's going to make the kids wait until after breakfast to open their presents, but really he likes to see them be wild and excited...

🌿 he didn't get so many of these childish gleeful Christmases as a boy and he wants to give you and his children the loveliest Christmas mornings...

🌿 Tommy gives the servants the morning off on Christmas, he makes breakfast and tries his hand at remembering where he came from... Plus he enjoys the two of you getting to spend time together in a domestic way like that, with the kids sitting waiting impatiently for their breakfast.

🌿 he definitely thinks he's being low-key with his gifts, "oh that's just a little something from me angel..." as you unwrap a little box which rattled when you shook it.. and of course it's something beautiful and divine, something you can't believe was crafted on earth and not in heaven...

🌿 Tommy kissing the back of your neck as he scoops your hair up and helps you put the necklace on you...

🌿 he spoils you with so many pretty things, dresses, a silk kimono style dressing gown, glamorous and pretty things, pearls, jewellery but also does like to get you more low-key things, the thing he'd be most looking forward to giving you is an old first edition of your favourite book, your favourite poets latest work, a record, music he's seen you swaying with yourself to as you hum the melody.

🌿 and when you tell him he shouldn't have he just smiles, cups your cheek and leans in, whispers the words over your lips "prettiest girl in the world deserves the prettiest gifts doesn't she?" And with his nose nudging yours you're not about to argue with him. Him lacing his fingers with yours as the children interrupt jumping up onto daddy's knee to show him what father Christmas bought them...

🌿 After Christmas Lunch Tommy suggests a little stroll through the snowy gardens down to the stables where another gift is waiting for you... A beautiful horse which you adore... Her sleek black mane, her calm eyes... Tommy promises that this year he'll take more time away from work and teach you to ride.

🌿 I reckon Tommy's more devoted to the "father Christmas" thing than you'd expect him to be, I feel like he'd think it was really important, that's kids need that kind of magic in their little worlds...

Arthur

🍂 Arthur definitely gets quite flustered around Christmas, he worries that he can't think of the perfect gift, he begs and begs you to just tell him what you want, "really darlin please, don't care it it's expensive or if I have to go fuckin Timbuktu for it it'll be easier than this bloody guessing game!" "Arthur if I knew what I wanted I'd tell you but I don't..." "Please love!* You'd be giggling at his despair as he starts reeling off guesses and you keep telling him they all sound lovely, that he should just get you whatever he thinks of...

🍂 "but y/n what if I get it wrong!" "Arthur Shelby for the last fuckin time you won't get it wrong! You've never been wrong before..."

🍂 and the reason he's never been wrong before is that he really does just buy you everything he can think of that he thinks you might like, and sometimes things he's heard your friends ask their husbands for... he buys so much in the hopes that you'll like at least something...

🍂 But really all you want for Christmas is to be with him, that anything he gets you is perfect to you because it will be a sign from him that he cares about you and that he put thought into your gift.

🍂 he's always a little worried he's going to ruin Christmas in some way, he worries that he'll get too drunk or that he'll end up fighting with one of the reletives it guests... and when he's anxious and stressed out he'll have a drink... so he gets pretty merry on Christmas...

🍂 but most of those things he worries about are irrational worries... Arthur cares so much about the whole family getting together for Christmas because he sees himself as the head of the family, and he because he cares he tries really hard...

🍂 he's everyone's favourite flustered uncle and poor Arthur is unfortunately the kids favourite uncle to fuss around... they find it so funny seeing him a little red in the face going slightly crazy trying to make sure everything's going well... always asking you if you think the days going well, if the kids are happy... "look at em Arth, they're having the best time you dafty..."

🍂 He's so nervous watching you open your presents and you're kind of conscious of that so you're always making sure you're extra grateful and that you smile and say thank you for every single gift, and that you tell him he definitely isn't to buy you so much next year...

🍂 because apart from anything else you'd be self conscious about giving your gifts for him, because there's no way you've bought him as much as he's given you...

🍂 and so many of his gifts are so thoughtful too, there'll be a bottle of wine you'd tried to describe to him when you'd come back from a little weekend away with Ada, you'd been telling him how divine it was and how you'd love to drink it again (you were drunk when you were telling him about this) but you couldn't remember it... Arthur had gone to an unhinged extreme and visited the hotel to find out and then buy you a crate of the stuff...

🍂 You'll be really surprised by the levels of thought Arthur's put into your gift and when you stop beneath the mistletoe to thank him for all your gifts he'd cup your face in his hands and tell you that he wanted to make your Christmas perfect... "Was always gonna be if I got to spend it with you Arth..."

🍂 and then he'd get emotional, Arthur definitely gets a bit misty eyed after all the fuss of Christmas, because it's so important to him to see the whole family together, as a family... It wasn't like that when he was a kid and he's always wanted to give the family the kinds of warm happy Christmases they all wished for as youngens.

🍂 he definitely dresses up as Father Christmas for the little ones and brings in their sack of toys... Lets them clamber all over him and doesn't complain once even when in their excitement they're a little rough...

🍂 exhausts himself and falls asleep on the sofa after lunch, cuddled up with you of course...

Alfie

🐻 grumpy when you wake him up early... "You youngens spare no thought for us old men do ya? Wakin us up at the first sign of light over that godforsaken horizon just because its bloody Christmas Day..." you pouting, telling him you're sorry, trying to be convincing but he sees your smile and mirrors it

🐻 "No you're not..." he chuckled pinching your cheek, pulling you up into his lap and trapping you there, demanding compensation for the inconvenience of being woken up at such an ungodly hour in the form of s good morning kiss...

🐻 "This ain't what jesus woulda wanted darlin... Reckon Jesus yeah much like myself right, was probably quite fond of a little shut eye, yeah I reckon he was you know..."

🐻 but of course its mostly just an exaggerated act he's pulling, and mostly he's only grumbling so much because he loves the sound of your giggling, loves the way your laughter leaves you wriggling in his lap trying to escape him when he starts grumbling again...

🐻 he will force you to lie back down, your head on his chest whilst he gets a little extra sleep. He kisses your forehead and tells you to go back to sleep too... "Got a big day ahead of us my little ziskeit, an I wouldn't want my pretty poppet wearing herself out before she's even had her breakfast right... So me and you yeah, we're gonna lie here just a little bit longer right... And I know you can manage waiting right because I happen to know you're a very good, very patient girl... Ain't you ziskeit?"

🐻 Alfie drags Christmas morning cuddles out for as long as possible and insists that all presents are opening in bed... If you've got little ones they drag their stockings into the bedroom and climb up into bed with mum and dad to open their presents too.

🐻 Alfie would have quite a low-key chilled out Christmas I think, you'd have lots of cute little personal family traditions (like the aforementioned opening presents in bed). He'd want there to be as little fuss as possible and a quiet but cosy Christmas by the fire would suit him best ...

🐻 that being said he always tries so hard to be charming and polite when your parents come over for christmas lunch...

🐻 he can't get down on the floor to play with the children so instead he sits in his arm chair and invites them up to play in his lap, letting them make their toy horses and soldiers climb up his left arm, conquer his right shoulder in battle and then claim victory over all on top of his head.

🐻 has a deadly sweet tooth and eats more dessert than Christmas dinner...

🐻 you mix Christian and Jewish traditions on Christmas day and Alfie spends a lot of time in the kitchen with you on Christmas Eve preparing babka and other treats from his own cultural background to share with the family...

🐻 modern Alfie would absolutely threaten deal or death on anyone who even considered reading a christmas cracker joke to him...

🐻 he spent the run up to Christmas being a big mard arse, threatening you with the naughty list every time you said no to him or didn't do as he'd asked. Whenever you were cheeky or sarcastic with him he'd told you you he wasn't bothering with gifts this year, telling you not to bother getting him anything...

🐻 But of course Alfie would never neglect his little ziskeit and come Christmas morning you're unwrapping the loveliest gifts from him... mostly music... the best gift Alfie has bought for you however can't be unwrapped and certainly can't be given to you in bed... it's waiting downstairs in the lounge... a new piano with the most gorgeous intricate design engraved in the body.

🐻 Alfie is terrible for spoiling the kids far too much too... Every year you end up getting them more and more between the two of you, but that's because for as cynical as Alfie is about the whole Christmas ordeal as he calls it, he does know the joy it brings to children and he does believe wholeheartedly that children should be able to have perfect happy childhoods.

John

🌼 Christmas with John is chaotic from the second the sun rises to long after it has set...

🌼feral children everywhere, and one adult man who isn't much better.... John loves to see the children excited and so he'll do anything to feed the fire, ramping up the excitement at any opportunity...

🌼 definitely a chocolate for breakfast household...

🌼 but before the sun rises, before the kids wake up and start shaking the house down... You're woken up by John, his arms wrapped around you, nuzzling into your hair, kissing your neck from behind you...

🌼 because it might be Christmas but he isn't sacrificing cosy, sleepy morning sex for anything and this his own special way of wishing you a merry Christmas...

🌼 so when the kids come bursting into the bedroom you're already awake, cuddled up with John making the most of the last few moments peace before the big day really starts.

🌼 And once the children are up that it, you're both being dragged down the stair to the living room where the children's stockings are full of treats and toys galore... And John's gifts to you are much the same

🌼 John buys you gifts which bring out your inner child, your favourite sweets, dancing frocks and feather hair bands to match... Chocolates too.

🌼 the best gift of all however arrives in an excited bundle of fluff and fur... A bright eyed puppy John had been keeping hidden in the kitchen, a gift not just for you but all the family... The children are over the moon, all shouting names to call her, and you're overjoyed too.

🌼 There's music on the gramophone and John's been mixing you Christmas cocktails since breakfast time, he dances you around your living room and picks your daughter up to dance with you too. Letting the kids dance with their feet on his feet, playing all sorts of silly Christmas games with them too. John is the life and soul of Christmas and there isn't a second goes by without laughter and general merriment on Christmas when John is around.

🌼 trying to gather the children (including John tbh) up to visit his brother's at Arrow House is a nightmare and you definitely all arrive late to Christmas lunch... Not that anyone was expecting you all to be on time... John and the children put the feral in festive?

🌼 He drives Tommy insane all day and you finally get a little peace and relief sipping gin by the fire with Ada and Polly.

🌼 And John definitely still makes time for you, stealing you away when the children are worn out from playing all day. Everyone's a little sleepy in the afternoon, even the puppy is dozing by the fire. John catches your hand and steals you away to a shadowy corner of the house to steal a Christmas kiss from his very own Christmas miracle.

Bonnie

🍀Going to bed on Christmas Eve, the smell of smoke from the fire, cinnamon and citrus from the little garlands of oranges and holly sprigs that you made and hung up around the vardo... In the morning when you wake there's fresh frost on the window and you can feel the chill in the air...

🍀so you snuggle in closer to Bonnie and he wraps his arms around you a little tighter than before. Youre cuddled up together beneath layers of blankets, listening to the birds outside, the hush of Christmas morning before the children wake up... with your eyes closed you're just enjoying being wrapped up together in the arms of your love...

🍀his scratchy morning voice and lilted accent as he kisses your cheek, nuzzles in closer and says "merry Christmas little dove..." "merry chrismas Bon." You whisper against his neck, your breath tickling him as you press a kiss to his skin.

🍀Christmas day is always busy and a little chaotic at the camp, many families all gather together for a huge celebration, which means brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and old friends all gathered together with a fire and feast... Children running round with their new toys, snowball fights, all the little girls making snow angels and getting little ice crystals in the tangles of their long wild hair.

🍀And one day Bonnie can't wait to watch his own children running around all rosy cheeked on Christmas morning, scoffing chocolates and treats from father Christmas...

🍀but for now it's just you and him wrapped up snug and warm inside, sharing a little peace and tranquility before the chaos of Christmas

🍀Your stockings would be quite small, humble little things, but you'd have filled them with sweet little gifts, many of them handmade, for one another.

🍀You have carved bonnie a gorgeous new knife, it's engraved beautifully with little woodland vines along the handle. He's really pleased with it. And Bonnie has carved you something just as beautiful, a hair slide adorned with dried white flowers... It takes your breath away. Bonnie's gifts would be a mixture of practical and pretty....

🍀And because he has big dreams of wealth and riches Bonnie would have saved all the money from his boxing winnings to buy you something stunning and expensive... Something he definitely shouldn't have bought you! A necklace or a set of earrings made with your birthstone.

🍀 Bonnie would definitely get very broody and sentimental at Christmas, especially after a drink and having spent a lot of the day looking after some of the youngens. You'd be feeling the same too after watching him teach the younger lads to box, watching him dance with your younger sister around the fire and give her piggy backs when she's tired.

🍀And he'll want to dance with you too, there'll he no escaping him and you won't be able to keep the smile off your face when he's swaying you slowly to a softer Christmas song. He'd be singing it softly to you as you danced.

Isaiah

🐀 After a wild Christmas Eve you'd both be very tired and perhaps a little hungover... So you'd wake up tangled between the sheets together, sore heads and sleepy eyes... And that's where you'd stay for as long as possible.

🐀 you wouldn't have any Christmas commitments until it was time for Christmas dinner with Isaiah's father so you would drag the morning out in bed with a cup of tea, both of you feeling lazy...

🐀 When you finally wander downstairs you'd both be wearing Isaiah's pyjamas, him wearing the bottoms and you wearing the top. You'd sit together under a blanket to exchange gifts by the tree...

🐀 Deciding to cure your hangovers with another drink

🐀 luckily for you Isaiah has gifted you a cocktail shaker and set so you can mix up a cure for your Christmas morning hangover.

🐀 he's also bought you some truly gorgeous lingerie, red and lacy and he can't wait to see you in it later...

🐀 It would be quite a relaxed Christmas, you'd probably just about manage to be on time to Christmas Lunch, just about manage to look presentable and hide your hangovers from your parents.

🐀 Cheeky kisses under the mistletoe at every opportunity, you having to remind Isaiah to behave himself in front of your parents... He gets amusingly shy about having to wear a party hat on his head and take his turn in charades... He's actually blushing!!

🐀 You'd end up reengerised by the evening and you'd be back down the garrison come the night to meet with Finn and some of the other Peaky lads, music turned up loud, dancing and getting up to no good. Isaiah knows him and Finn will get a bollocking from Tommy when he comes back to the city but he doesn't care, anything to impress his girl.

Michael

☘️ With Michael Christmas morning is luxurious, it's slow and relaxing but it isn't low-key by any stretch of the imagination...

☘️ Tea and breakfast brought up to your room by the house keeper. The two of you eat breakfast in bed, sharing a peaceful good morning cuddle beneath fresh white sheets...

☘️ You go downstairs wrapped in your silk house coat and you exchange gifts beneath the tree, the fire burning in the place, the peaceful crackling of smouldering wood a tranquil soundtrack to your morning.

☘️ Michael has spoiled you, he's bought you a dress which is truly divine, a beautiful shade of jade green, you know he wants you to wear it today... He wants to show off his riches and also his girl... It's probably an attempt at making Tommy jealous... And you're determined to aid your man in whatever he desires so you make a note to do your make up perfectly, a little extra smoulder to your eyes shadow, a little extra rouge on your lips...

☘️ He's also tries to spoil you with the most modern, trend setting gifts... A state of the art gramophone, a home video camera which you're excited to use later to record the Shelby family Christmas.

☘️ Then you and Michael take a hot, steamy bath together, relaxing in eachothers arms, washing one anothers hair, closing your eyes and enjoying the peace, making the most of it before you have to visit the rest of the family at Arrow House...

☘️ Michaels a little begrudging about having to spend the day in Tommy's shadow so you do your best on Christmas morning to stroke his ego and give him the self esteem boost he needs to face his older cousin...

☘️ He's also paid for a trip to New York, he's been many time on business but he wants to take you with him and spoil you, show you Broadway and the skyscrapers which have stolen his heart.

☘️ Aunt Polly meets you at the door to arrow house and takes you under her wing, introducing you to everyone else and stealing you away with the women to drink whiskeys in the kitchen whilst the men play with the little ones who are running riot in the snow covered garden.

☘️ Michael has to rescue you from them because he catches them giving you the third degree, trying to work out if he's going to propose, trying to work out if you're pregnant.

☘️ if he was planning on proposing I think Michael is most likely to propose at Christmas.

Luca

🪽 Christmas starts at midnight when you're attending mass together, recieving communion, you resting your head on his shoulder as your lips move sleepily to the melody of another hymn.

🪽 Luca is never particularly impressed by mass in England, he always scowls and shakes his head, give you an earful on the way home about how the English are all uncultured heathens...

🪽 you just shake your head and smile, stroke his cheek as he's driving, place a cigarette between his lips and light it for him, you plant a kiss to his cheek to calm him and he settles down, remembering that it's Christmas... a happy day, a day of peace...

🪽 Luca has always found Christmas time to make him a little more romantic than usual and when he pulls up the car in the driveway he lifts you out of the car like a bride and carries you over the threshold as if it were the very first time. Smothers you in kisses as you make your way up to bed.

🪽In the morning when you wake it is to his low husky singing, an old hymn from his homeland which sounds all the more lovely for his lethargic tone. He strokes your hair from your face and brushes a kiss over your lips wishing his darling a merry christmas...

🪽 He lights your cigarette for you and you lie back against your plush set of pillows feeling like a princess, and you look radiant with the Christmas morning light streaming through the windows.

🪽 Luca can't resist you in the mornings and finds it impossible to keep his hands off you, slipping beneath the covers to wish you a merry Christmas in his own special way.

🪽 When the children wake they're full of excitement, bubbling over with Christmas spirit as they drag you and their Papà from your bed to go downstairs and open their gifts...

🪽 Now of course the children have been spoiled rotten as always, new toys and enough sweets to rot their teeth in under ten seconds... But you... You're Luca's Angelo, every gift he's given you is addressed to "cuore mio" (my heart) and every present is more beautiful than the last.

🪽 he spoils you with classy gifts, a string of pearls, a new gramophone and a collection of your most treasured records...

🪽 but his main gift to you plays towards Luca's dramatic tendencies, his need to show off and shower you in all the adoration his wallet can give... In the driveway with a red ribbon tied around the body is a flash sports car just for you.

🪽 "But... I can't... Drive..." "Not yet cuore mio, but don't worry, you'll have the best teacher..."

🪽 tickets to the opera and the most gorgeous black velvet dress for you to wear when he takes you into the city for an evening of luxury and music.

🪽 Luca dotes on you throughout the whole of the festive period, he dotes on you normally but in December and early January he really layers it on thick, all day Luca makes sure your every need is attended to... He is always the one to top up your wine glass, always planting little kisses to your hands and fingers, using any excuse to touch you...

🪽 Helps you get ready in your finery to greet your guests before dinner, Luca combs your hair and helps you into your dress, fastens the clasp of your necklace and can't resist peppering your neck in teasing kisses...

🪽 He doesn't mind playing host to his huge family, it's an excuse to show off after all, but he tires of social interaction quickly and you can see him growing impatient as the day draws on, you stop to massage his shoulders beneath the mistletoe and then you let your kiss linger on his lips, "not long now tesoro," you remind him, "then it'll be just me and you and the children, you'll have us all to yourself..." "Trust me cuore mio that moment can't come soon enough..."

🪽 When you try to pull away and return to the dining room Luca drags you back for one last kiss and really makes the most of the little moment of peace he gets to have with you.

Aberama

🥀 There was a time when Christmas was a particularly lonely time for Aberama, a time when he remembered all that he lost when he lost Bonnie's mother.. he used to find the winter season to be a harsh, cold, long and lonely winter...

🥀 but with you in his life things are finally beginning to thaw out, he has hope again for the first time in a long time. Your sweetness makes him feel warm despite the winter frost on the ground...

🥀 So now Christmas is a time when Aberama finds himself feeling grateful, more than anything else. He finds himself reflecting on his life and how much his family means to him, finds himself reflecting on you and all the joy and peace you've brought to his conflicted world.

🥀 His favourite part of winter is going on long walks through the frosty countryside with you tucked up in one of his big coats, seeing your little head poking out of a scarf he's wrapped tight around your neck to keep the chill at bay, your little rosy cheeks, is one of the prettiest sights he's blessed with amid the grey of December...

🥀 On Christmas morning he wakes up before you to prepare the fire and to start brewing tea and preparing breakfast... You're a little younger than him and he has a tendency to dote on you at the best of times, but on Christmas morning in particular you look so adorable, so at peace tucked away beneath the blankets that he can't bare to disturb you...

🥀 so you awake to a slight breeze tickling your cheeks, the sound of fire crackling, the hiss of the kettle coming to boil... And when you join Aberama by the fire you're still hazy with sleep. He opens his arms to welcome you into his embrace and lets you sit between his legs on the floor as he carries on attending to the fire.

🥀 As the camp slowly comes to life and everything gets busier he keeps you tucked away nice and close to him... With his own children grown up there's a little less chaos around his vardo and so you are both able to watch the festivities from a slight distance... You know it won't be long before you're swept up in it all however, you know it won't belong before one of the little ones comes running to show you their new toys...

🥀 and so you make the most of the peace whilst the children are distracted by their stockings to exchange your own gifts by the fire...

🥀Aberama is a practical and sentimental gift giver, he gives you a huge cosy woolen jumper, one to keep you snug and wrapped up in the cold months ahead, new boots for riding and accompanying him on those long rambles through the woodlands, he's also bought you a new pony, shes gorgeous and your heart swells with pride at the knowledge he'd have needed to pull a mean trick to get you a creature so beautiful, the thought you're worth that much to him almost brings you to tears.

🥀 Definitely takes a lot of pride in preparing the perfect Christmas feast and he keeps himself plenty busy in the morning with some of the other men and women preparing a fine spread for everyone to share... Definitely saves you the best carving of meat and the best looking potatoes.

🥀 Honestly despite the fact his children have grown and that even his youngest is an adult now, I thinn Christmas time makes Aberama a little broody, a little nostalgic for the days when his own little ones were running riot playing with their new toys... You might find he starts talking a little sentimentally when he's had too much wine, that when he's dancing with you by the fire in the evening he pulls you a little closer than usual...

Merry Christmas to all of my lovely lovely followers I hope you've had a lovely day <3

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[call-sign-shark]

The Month of Sin

Hey loves,

Something is in the air, can you smell it? October is approaching and what's the best way to celebrate my favorite month with the unleashing of your wildest Peaky Blinders fantasies? This combined with the fact I'd like to train my smut skills resulted in the idea of hosting a kinktober event dedicated to our lovely Peaky Blinders' characters. For the event, I'll be opening my requests.

How to Make a Request:

Send me the name of the character + the prompt in my ask box and I'll write a reader insert for you. I write for all the characters except the creeps like Mosley or Hughes. Also, I know y'all love Tommy and I'll write for him but please, try to give some love to the other characters too. :)

Ideas: Tommy, Arthur, John, Polly, Ada, Michael, Finn, Bonnie, Isaiah, Alfie, Aberama, May, Heaven etc. I also accept OC x Canon so if you wanna send me a request featuring your OC's favorite pairing, feel free.

Rules:

This is mainly smut but if you're really uncomfortable with it and still want me to write something for you, add (vanilla) to your request.

No date limitation. You can ask for any number no matter the date.

There is no limitation on requests one person can ask. Anons are welcome.

One character per prompt. Prompts are listed below.

Prompts list:

1 - Breathe with Tommy 2 - Cut with Alfie 3 - Marked with Finn 4 - After Care with Finn / A Peaky Lady 5 - Rope Bunny with Arthur 6 - Drunk with Tommy 7 - Blindfold with John / Aberama 8 - Creampie with John or Author's choice 9 - Praise with Bonnie 10 - Size with Alfie/ Luca 11 - Power with Michael 12 - Oral with Bonnie 13 - Breeding with Alfie 14 - Blood with Tommy 15 - Tamed with Arthur 16 - Denial with Tommy 17 - Daddy with Michael / Alfie / Aberama / Arthur 18 - Public with John 19 - Threesome with Tommy and Author's choice 20 - Leash & Collar with Arthur and Heaven 21 - Knife with Isaiah 22 - Strip with John 23 - Overstimulation with Tommy 24 - Car with Tommy 25 - Punishment with John 26 - Worship with Changretta and Eva 27 - Begging with Tommy 28 - Corruption with Arthur 29 - Blasphemy with Arthur 30 - Age Gap (surprise dark!fic) with the three brothers

[ryuzakemo128]

Red x Other Peaky Blinder Characters

Red is mostly the same, the events of what happened to her in her early life is going to be detailed further. As I feel bad about not going into more detail the first time. So Red this time would be better described, her intentions known to the reader far more clearly.

If you like either one of these pairings, let me know. I'll write up more stuff for this one. Early time line for Red detailed further, romance side to it isn't planned. Whether you want them together from the start is also up to you whether you like it or not.

Red x Aberama Gold Headcanons

Both original au and modern au for these headcanons.

This version of Red at the start is still bodyguard/Contract Killer/Mercenary. Before any business that came from a Galina and Red partnership.

Galina is considered to be a spoilt princess in Red's eyes. Which she mentions to Aberama on multiple occasions.

Red and Aberama didn't get along at first. Red didn't notice how much they didn't mesh, she didn't consider how much they didn't mesh because she basically ignored the guy.

Red didn't understand his tactics, she still doesn't and she had a gut feeling she's playing a chess game with someone that's always two steps ahead of her. (At the start)

(By the time they start talking) She decided to take up playing chess. She was interrupted at least twice.

"You're playing chess, at this time?" The time being three in the morning or possibly two in the morning.

Aberama is a major unknown to Red. Which both intrigues her and makes her uncomfortable.

Aberama and Red start to get along as the Vendetta against the Peaky Blinders continues past John Shelby's death.

Red (Female Reader) x Alfie Solomons

Both original au and modern au for these headcanons.

Red and Alfie get along straight away. They're attitude towards work might be different, but they speak as if they met before. (At least in my mind I think they would.)

Red likes the way Alfie explains things. At least sometimes she does. Sometimes she hates it because she's more confused than she was before he explained it.

Main Idea for the ship: Alfie: That was so hot, Red . Red : I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Alfie: I'm so in love with you.

Red avoids doing business with Alfie just to avoid potential conflict in ideals. Even though they basically both chaotically neutral in certain ways.

Red likes the fact that he doesn't ask about her work too often at the start. Alfie doesn't go into great detail about his own either.

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal (Pt. 2)

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 10.4k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, spoilers, swearing, smoking, death, angst, phone sex, masturbation, age gap (Tommy is late 30s, Reader is late 20s), oral (f!receiving), heavy praise, breeding kink, Tommy is nice... A/N: So I decided to write a second part to show a completely different side of Tommy bc of course. This is not filthy as it is angsty. This contains spoilers for seasons 4 and 5 if you have not already watched them. I hope you enjoy this part, I put a lot of time into it! Thank you!

You wrapped Tommy’s jacket around you, draping it over your shoulders and admiring the weight of his scent wrapped around you. He’d just left you in the bedroom, left only in a bedgown as you waited for him to return to you after dealing with business that had shown up on the front lawn. But you were curious.

As you ventured toward the window, where the blaring lights from the car out front were shining through, even from the height of the first floor, you looked over the chaos of muffled shouts and cries. You tilted your head as you continued to quietly observe, trying to figure out who it was causing such a disturbance here so late in the night.

When you realised that you recognised the person yelling at Tommy, you were out of the door in seconds, panicked as you rushed through the hall and down the stairs. Once at the bottom of the stairs, you caught Charlie trying to peek out of the door in search of the situation which had caught his attention.

You knelt in front of him, offering a kind smile as you focused his attention on you. “Hey, Charlie,” you said in a sticky sweet voice. “Why don’t you come sit down while I go see what your father is up to, eh?”

He looked at you, only half interested. “Screaming,” he spoke in his tiny voice, referring to the men arguing outside.

“I know. Isn’t it just so annoying?” You stood and took his hand, leading him away until you could hand him off to a freshly woken Mary to take elsewhere. With Charlie out of the way, patting his head as he departed, you went back to the front door. You didn’t leave yet, choosing to stay there with the gun hidden underneath the table by the door and watch the men argue.

Aberama looked a mess, covered in blood and sweat. He was hysterical, and you could not understand a single word he was saying. Johnny Dogs was by the car, just as hurt as your father seemed to be, though less frantic as he clutched his side in pain. All you could hear were threats, loud, desperate threats spouting from Aberama’s mouth in Johnny’s direction garbled by anger and something deeper.

“Listen to me!” Tommy shouted, trying to catch his attention as he cradled his head and attempted to hold him still to get him to calm down. He forced him to look at him as he spoke.

“How can a one-armed man avenge the death of his son, eh?”

Your heart dropped in your chest and then leapt to your throat. The ground shook and the air stood still. You swallowed hard, wide eyed and not entirely sure you were still breathing. The word came out of your mouth but it was muffled in your ears as you took a step out of the door with breath caught in your lungs.

“Dad?”

Everything stopped as they all turned their gazes on you, a variety of emotions crossing their faces before settling on sudden realisation. You stared your father in the eye, ignoring the sting of tears as you took it all in—the suffocation, the shock. When did the world become so blurry?

Aberama looked away from you, his grief deepening as he turned his gaze back on Tommy with a new kind of rage. “They crucified my son…” he huffed, “for you.”

You felt paralysed as you stood there, helpless to find a way to fix all of this. You were supposed to fix it. You were the older sister, the family’s caretaker. You had to fix it, but you didn’t know how.

You were ripped from your spiral at the struggling grunts your father made breaking away from Tommy and grabbing the firearm discarded on the ground. He stumbled away to stand between you and Tommy, pointing the gun right at him. “You stay away from my fucking daughter!” he shrieked.

The blasting sounds of bullets shot into the air and stopped everything. You hadn’t even realised you were the gun shooting until words were leaving your mouth and you felt the tingling of blood leaving your hand from being held in the air for so long.

“Put down the gun, Dad,” you said, calmly at first as you stared him down with eyes that had not yet caught up to your body.

He looked at you and mumbled your name, nearly defeated as he watched you. The next words to leave your mouth were not so calm as they scratch at your throat with the force you used to scream them and aimed your gun at Aberema with an anger to be reckoned with.

“I told you to put down the fucking gun or I’ll shoot it out of your hands!”

He hesitated, taking you in before obliging. Slowly, he set the gun down and put his hands up to show peace. You didn’t lower your own weapon, though your hands shook and your jaw trembled with barely contained tears. Everyone stood still and watched you try not to unravel.

You took in a shaky breath. “Yes or no…” Your sigh was watery as you closed your eyes to steady yourself before looking back at your father. You licked your lips, “...Is my little brother dead?”

Aberama’s hands fell to his sides, swinging there as he let them go limp. His gaze broke from yours. He was slow to respond, not quite present but not as dazed as part of him wished to be. His voice was low, nearly inaudible. He opened his mouth, struggling to speak, “...Yes.”

You closed your eyes and gaze a silent sob one breath to escape. The tears that had been piling in your eyes finally slipped out. One, two, three slid down your chin and dripped to the gravel beneath your feet. You inhaled again, composing yourself again.

“Are my sisters safe?” you asked.

His eyes could only meet yours for a half second. “They’re with family.”

“Do they know?”

“Not yet.”

The sound of gravel crunching under someone’s shoes has you turning toward the sound with the precision of a trained marksman as you aim the barrel of the gun at Tommy, glaring at him trying to come nearer to you.

“Tommy, I swear to God, if you come any closer, I’ll fucking shoot you.”

He assessed you, taking in your anger, your pain, and deciding from there whether your words were empty. With another step, you gripped the gun tighter, but made no move with the trigger. He approached you slowly, testing you and your threat. By the time he was standing in front of you, you had done nothing but stare at him with a shaky grasp and breath. He placed his hand on the gun, pushing it down and snatching it from your hands. Emptying the barrel, his eyes didn’t leave yours as you watched him limply.

When his arms wrapped around you, the fire in your bones ignited. You were so much like your father in that way—your brother, too—a fighter, all of you. You fought him, you kicked and screamed and punched as you tried to get him to get off of you. Your brother was dead, your baby brother was gone, and you could never get him back and Tommy was standing here trying to hold you to him when you could never hold your brother again?

The touch was much too warm, the confinement stifling. You couldn't breathe, couldn't get the air to your lungs as your gasps made your throat hoarse and rough. The fight left so quickly as Tommy endured against your fight, keeping you locked in his arms until your anger relinquished and you dissolved into nothing but sobs into his shoulder. He held you as you stopped screaming, held you as the tears soaked his clothes. He held you as you trembled, too exhausted to keep fighting. Your legs were on the verge of giving out. He was the only thing to hold you up as you broke down against him.

“He’s dead, Tom,” you sobbed, finally putting your arms around him and holding him tighter than you ever have, your nails digging into him for something to hold on to. “He’s fucking dead. My baby brother’s dead.”

“I know, I know,” he shushed. Tommy cradled you as you rambled, trying to soften your cries as he listened and felt your sentiment too close to heart. The wounds of his own little brother’s death burned in his chest, and he hated you going through it as well. “I’m sorry about your brother. Really, I am.”

Your hands tightened around him, your nails digging deeper until your eyes met your father’s, watching the both of you with a look you couldn’t identify. Your grip on Tommy loosened, and you remembered yourself—the oldest, the caretaker, the voice of reason among voices pleading reparation and revenge. You let go of him, parting with a new numbness as he watched the anger, the emotional agony, disappear into a stone cold mask you’d pulled over your face to offer your father in accompaniment of his pain.

“I need to be with my family,” you said after a moment, your voice already sore and scratchy, your words full of frail strength.

Tommy watched you walk away from him and into your father’s arms, laying your chin on his shoulder as he pulled an arm around your back and held you. You didn’t reciprocate, you couldn’t. Not right now. Aberama held onto you for strength, and Tommy felt like he could see it draining from you by the way your shoulders began to sag.

Anerama’s cold, fiery gaze bore into Tommy, one full of despair and ruthlessness. Tommy sighed, raising a finger toward him. “If you want to take on the Billy Boys, you need me alive,” he warned, looking between the both of you with a variety of thoughts flashing in his head. “Everyone fucking needs me.”

You pulled away from your father, placing your hand on his shoulders and dragging your gaze along him. He was hurt. So was Johnny Dogs. You needed to take care of them. “I’m calling an ambulance,” you said, your voice a monotone droll of duty first. “Hold on, both of you.”

You supported your father’s arm around your shoulders, pulling him into the house to get him cared for as Tommy moved to do the same with Johnny.

~

Flames rose high, making the air around it dance from the heat and life rising with it. Your sisters, tucked under each of your arms, clung to you as they watched their brother's wagon burn, reduced to ash and dust of a life once lived.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched the fire rise and rise, sucking the tears back in as you remained strong for your grieving sisters. You turned your chin, resting it atop the youngest's head. You glanced away from the fire, and your eyes caught a much darker figure lingering further from the scene, cap pulled over his head and cigarette between his lips as he watched you.

You both watched each other for a moment, neither moving or looking away. By the time your eyes were averted, you'd already made your decision.

When the fire had not roared so wildly and your sisters' quiet sobs were gentler tears, you passed them over to one of your aunts watching the fire burn. Your father was still recovering in the hospital, too hurt to move too far from the bed but too upset to sleep as he sat in bed and watched the time that marked as his son's funeral ticked away minute by minute. With a nod, she gestured you away to take care of them for the moment while you spoke with your mysterious visitor.

Tommy Shelby stood silently where he was as you joined his side. Neither of you looked at one another, your eyes still fixated on the flames. It was silent for a while. You stuffed your hand in the pocket of your jacket and hugged it close for a comfort you felt selfish for wanting.

"They killed him."

Your voice was nearly strained as you spoke, quiet and nearly raspy with the overuse of crying—or keeping from crying—over the past week. You were still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that it had been the first week in the rest of your life without your baby brother.

Tommy cleared his throat, taking his cigarette from his lips. He rolled it between his fingers, considering a response before he gave it. "Your brother will be avenged, Y/N." He flicked it away into the grass, stomping on it with the tip of his shoe to put it out. "I promise you that."

You sighed, late to a reply as you shook your head at his promise to you. "Do what you want, Tommy." Your eyes strayed where they always had, right back to your sisters huddling to your aunt, stricken with grief. You shook your head again turning to Tommy as you swallowed thickly. "But don't make me lose any more family. My sister's stay safe, my father's life or death will be left to his hands or mine."

He turned to you, tilting his head and raising a brow. "You don't want me to keep him alive?"

You looked down at his shoes, thinking for a moment to get your thoughts in order from the messy hurricane they had been in the past week. "Before Bonnie died, I was dreamin' of a big, black bird. Then he did die, and I thought, 'This was it. It got what it wanted, now it'll leave us alone.' But when I managed to sleep that night… that bird was staring me down, much bigger and much louder than before."

You let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "Someone is goin' to die again, Tom." You nearly shuddered at the idea, meeting his gaze. "Don't let it be my sisters."

Tommy looked over you—your well-hidden grief of concealed red-rimmed eyes, trembling lips, messy hair. You were so good at hiding it all, he realised, well-versed in composed disposition.

But you couldn't hide all that pain from him. Reading you was like looking in a mirror.

He took a small step closer and reached down to brush your fingers with his, swiping his thumb over the back of your knuckles momentarily before letting go of you and nodding. "Your sisters will be safe. You have my word." He looked your face up and down. "No black bird will come for them."

You stared at him and blinked once. With a short nod, you looked away from the intensity of his eyes. He lingered there for a moment, your warmth mixing together for a few seconds in the cool air. Without a word, he turned to leave you.

He'd gotten a few steps away before you spoke into the air. "Tommy."

He looked back at you again, waiting expectantly for you to continue.

You swallowed hard. "Stay alive."

His eyes bore into your own, staring as he processed your words. He began walking back over to you, digging his hand in his pocket as he invaded your space. He took your hand in his big palm, setting something in your own and closing your fingers around it before you could see what it was judging the object only by the feel of it in your hand.

He turned and left, didn't spare a single word as he strayed from you.

You opened your hand and stared down at the penny he'd left you with, finding a ghost of a smile in your mind but not yet on your lips as you turned around to rejoin your sisters.

-

Things changed after that. With your brother gone, you realised all too suddenly how fragile this family of yours was.

Throwing yourself into work and family was the easiest part. Your kids at the school were important to you, your sisters even more so. The children kept you tender, kept you from hardening with the loss of your brother as you held on tight to your joy in life. Your sisters, impossibly dearer to you now, were cherished and loved and you made sure of you. The older of the two got married and was working on her first baby. The younger was joining you as a teacher, which meant she stayed closer to you. That made you very happy.

The hard part was separating from Tommy.

It wasn't intentional. Your late nights with him became more and more scarce as time went on. Being with Tommy, basking in the throes of passion with him during the darkest parts of the night, wrapped in his bedsheets and screaming his name, was a joy you couldn't match with anything else in your life. He was a guilty pleasure, an escape from reality that allowed you to fulfil the darkest desires within your heart that could not be found anywhere else.

You'd tried, once or twice, to push Tommy from your mind by finding another man. You were known to be Gold's prettiest daughter, there were men lining up to have a chance with you, but they were frightened off of it when Tommy Shelby had staked a claim. Now that he wasn't so dominant in your life, they had chances.

And you gave a couple of them chances—you needed someone else, someone safer. But he had his claws so deep inside of you, buried in your body and bitten into your flesh, like he had fired that bullet and left himself permanently marked in your soul.

There was no man like Thomas Shelby.

Slowly losing him was not just a physical thing, though. You hadn't realised how deeply you'd attached yourself to him until he wasn't around as much as he used to be—especially when he'd gone away to America on business. Finding excuses to see him every once in a while included your father meeting him for business and you following after, you wandering into the pub some evenings when you were feeling especially lonely (or simply just missing him) on the off chance that you just might find him there…him calling you late at night desiring you in his bed once more…

He'd called you one night.

You were just getting ready to go to bed, muscles aching and feet sore from working. Just as you were pulling the comforter from your bed, the trilling ring from the telephone screamed through the night air. You sighed, a tired moan slipping from your throat as you dragged yourself to answer.

You picked it up, a soft answer of your name through the line encouraging the person to speak. He hadn't realised how much he missed the sound of your voice until he'd heard it.

"Hello, Miss Gold," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than usual.

You held your breath and felt the sparks of delight in your chest at the sound of his voice. "Tommy…" you breathed, holding the phone closer and sinking into your chair.

"Did you miss me?" he asked. He sounded cocky. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke to you.

You nodded gently. "I still do…" He hummed, and the sound made you shudder. Your eyes flicked to the clock on your wall. "It's the early hours of the morning for you, isn't it? The sun isn't even up yet. You should be asleep, darling."

He hummed again. "Sleep was never really my friend."

You breathed a sigh. "You sound like you just woke up… Was it a nightmare, Tom?"

He didn't answer that. Instead, he let silence linger for a moment before he sighed. "I've been thinking about you."

You licked your lips slowly. "Me, too." You smiled a little. "But I think America is a little too far for me to go just to share your bed." Your smile faltered slightly. "I'm sure you could find some other woman to fuck tonight. A man like you has got plenty of options."

You weren't hostile as you spoke. Your voice remains gentle, if not dismayed by the proposal. Tommy supposed you sounded almost jealous.

"Maybe," his voice came. You swallowed thickly. "But none of the women here seemed to know how to fuck me like you." You heard him sigh. "None of the women here come close to you."

It was oddly comforting, but not comforting enough to be rid of your unreasonable agitation that he has, in fact, been with other women there. But what else did you expect? He wasn't going to stay celibate for you.

You brushed the fabric of the hem of your nightgown between your fingers, licking your lips. "Are any of them pretty?"

"Not like you."

The way he said it, his voice so soft and deep, brushed against your heart some kind of way. You found yourself wishing you were in his bed, not moaning with your back arched, but resting with your head against his chest. You wanted to feel your skin against his, his heart under your hand, his breath on your skin.

"I wish we spent more time together, you and I," you whispered, your voice soft as the whispers of wind. "I'm sorry we fell apart. I miss you." You didn't care how desperate you probably sounded repeating yourself like that. You let your eyes close, imagining him close again.

"Don't apologise," he said. He didn't go further, he simply left it at that with the implication that you knew what the rest of his meaning was. And you did.

"I want to be there with you." But my family needs me.

"I know." And I care so much that I am willing to wait.

You wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him. But you were oceans apart, and there was no getting past that quite soon.

You closed your eyes, inhaling the silence. "Say something to me, darling."

He sighed gently on the other side of the lines. His voice spoke in a way that made you shudder, absorbed in the depth of his timbre.

"I think of you every night, dove… I think of your body in my hands and your lips on mine."

If it weren't for the tone of the line, it'd almost be like you were right there with him, watching him stand over you as you listened to him speak. "What else?" you muttered.

"I think of your legs around my waist and your breath in my ear," he continued. "My name on your lips…"

The slightest whimper escaped you at the sound of that. You breathed in deeply, flattening your palm to your belly. "What would you do to me if I was there with you right now?"

"Oh, I'd fuck you," he put it bluntly. He hummed, and the sound rolled in his throat. "I'd push you against the wall, lift you up, and fuck you until you couldn't stand."

The idea made you weak already. The thought of him taking you rolled in your gut and whispered at your cunt as you clenched around nothing.

"And I wouldn't stop there," he continued, controlling your body with nothing but words as you buried your hand between your thighs and rolled your hips into it. "I'd throw you to the bed and spread your pretty legs apart. I'd taste you, feast on you until you came so many times, you shook. And then I'd fuck you again."

You whispered his name, your breaking trembling.

"I'd put you on your hands and knees, and I'd fuck you into the bed until my name was the only word you knew."

Your breath caught on a moan. You rubbed your finger over your clit, massaging it as you imagined him fulfilling his words. "Would you use my mouth?" you asked breathily.

"Until you could no longer speak."

You cursed under your breath, craving his touch all the more as you fed on the filthy images he put in your head. "I need you, Tom," you whimpered, chasing a high you could not achieve well enough without him.

"I know," he husked. "Keep moaning like that for me."

You did, pleasuring yourself as well as you could. You heard a quiet grunt in his voice across the line and smiled. "Are you touching yourself, Tommy?"

He huffed a breath, listening to you whimper again. "Yeah," he groaned. "Yes, I am, love. You make it hard not to with sounds like that."

You spoke between moans. "I am, too." Obviously, he knew that, but the admission made it all the more erotic. "My hands aren't as big as yours and my fingers aren't as skilled…" You sighed gently, "But your voice is enough to get me off."

Your fingers plunged inside of you, not half as fulfilling as Tommy's as you worked at your clit. "What else would you do to me?"

The sounds of his hand pumping his cock, fast and wet, reached the phone as you listened to the slick sound behind his sighs and groans. "I'd hold you down," he said. "I'd hold you down and shove my cock so deep inside of you." He cursed under his breath as your moans became a little louder, your limbs tingling with a daunting release. "I'd make you fucking scream for me when I hold you down and fill you up."

You moaned loudly that time, so close. Just brushing the edge of pleasure. "Tommy," your voice was insistent, higher-pitched and desperate. "Fuck, Tom."

He was breathless as he listened to you. "I'd fucking breed you," he whispered. "I'd fill you up and breed you, and you would carry my child."

You muffled a rough moan before gasping for breath. "I'm gonna cum, Tom. Fuck, I'm gonna cum for you."

"Then fucking cum."

Your release hit you then, washing over you like a refreshing wave. Not half as powerful as his hands would have made it, but certainly not discontented. His name fell from your tongue again and again as you came, clutching the phone tightly in your grip and wishing it was him.

"That's it," he rasped, his breath choppy. "That's right. Say my name, love."

"Oh, Tommy," you sighed.

You listened to a dark groan rumble in his throat, your brain becoming dizzy with the sound of his panting breath as his own orgasm burst through him. Your name was the word falling from his lips, as if your hands had been the one wrapped around his cock (as you wished they had been). Your heart pounded in his chest as you listened to him cum.

Silence settled as your highs subsided and your breaths steadied. The buzz of pleasure dulled until your hazy mind was cleared enough to think straight.

You were the one to break the silence, to long for his voice so much that the comfort of the quiet was not pleasing enough to keep you from feeding your addiction.

"When are you coming back, Tommy?"

He sighed. There was a pause. "When business here is done."

"When is that?"

"Soon," he said. "Soon." He almost seemed as dismayed by the answer as you.

Your chest ached. "I miss you." That was the third time you said that, bringing far too much truth and desperation to the words as you both let it settle in.

"Just keep talking," he spoke, his voice taking on a different kind of depth as it became soft once more. "Tell me about school. How are the children?" You heard the sound of Tommy's lighter as he flicked it on for a cigarette. "Or your sisters, how are they?"

Your eyes wandered to the clock again. "But it's late, darling, and you need sleep."

"I don't need to sleep right now," he dismissed.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, you do."

He paused, and the silence built for just a moment before he spoke again. "Why don't we flip a coin then?" You raised a brow. "Heads, and I'll go to sleep. Tails, you tell me about your sisters and the school. Deal?"

Your lips twitched in a tiny smile, and you sighed. "Okay. Flip a coin, then."

You listened to some rustling for just a moment, and then relative silence on his end. When he spoke again, he seemed to be smiling. "What is it?" you asked.

"Tails."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Yes."

You laughed, actually laughed. He called you pathetic when you were moaning underneath him, but there he was lying to keep you on the phone for the pleasure of your company. And, although he'd never admit it, he was definitely the pathetic one when he was weak at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay," you said once your laughter eased to a small giggle. "Well, my littlest sister has officially started at my school. She's teaching the year beneath me. I'm so proud of her."

Tommy sat there and listened to you talk, keeping you there for hours. Every time you suggested it had been too long, he found another excuse to keep you talking, and you complied because you couldn't think of anything you'd enjoy less than ending your call. He may have been selfish, but so were you.

Even as the morning sun was beginning to bleed through his curtains, he listened to your voice. He listened to it slow, dragging behind as the exhaustion creeped in more and more. He listened to your words becoming quieter and quieter until you no longer finished your sentences. And when your words stopped altogether, he stayed back a little while after that to listen to your gentle breaths.

Then he hung up and pushed himself to his feet. He had business to take care of.

-

Fire and ash and dust. That's all your family seemed good for at this point.

Aberama Gold was dead.

Your father was dead.

Granted, a lot of people died that night but fuck. You'd lost your brother, and now your father has joined him in that shithole of a death and left your sisters in your care. Again.

It had been three years of relative peace. You had thought that maybe—just maybe—he would die a normal death. Tommy had returned from America after the stock market crashed, business got bad and foes entered the arena again. Your father, naturally, went to his side. You'd begged whatever cruel gods there were that what took him would be something natural—old age or fucking illness.

To be murdered the way he was… He wasn't supposed to die that way, he wasn't. You hadn't taken care of your family as well as you had for both your brother and father to be so violently killed.

Now the flames licked at the remains of his life, engulfed in fire and likely damning his soul to hell.

You were so tired of losing people. You hoped and prayed for it to stop as you tried to sleep that night. You begged for it all to end when you met that bird in your dreams once again after three short years of silence, feeding off your grief like a vulture.

Tommy had never seen you at such a low.

He'd seen the blaring lights of your car in the front, watched them shut off through the window. He didn't know, at first, that it was you. He just assumed it was someone coming for business—despite the hour—and that he would handle it when he got to it.

But when he heard voices in the main room, voices that were very clearly not from any man and wouldn't be from his sister, he stood from his desk and went to meet it.

He found you there with Charlie, holding one of his toys and laughing when he laughed as you played with him. Tommy watched, fine at first at the way you handled him, so gentle and sweet, a natural caregiver. Charlie's enchanted by you and your sweetness.

But something was off, and he knew it. You'd just lost your father and now you were here, likely waiting for him.

"Mary," Tommy called gently. You only noticed he was standing there then as you turned your head and gave him a wide smile. Your eyes were droopy and glazed over as you slouched where you sat.

Mary arrived quickly, awaiting instruction. "Take Charlie to bed please." She did, walking up to the little boy with a smile as she took his hand. He waved at you, and you waved back.

When Charlie's gone, you stare off in the direction you left with a sigh. "Your little Charlie's so sweet, Tom," you smiled, turning to face him for a moment. You sighed and let your hands fall to your belly, "I want one of me own one day."

He hummed, walking over to you. "Until then," he leaned down and lifted you to your feet, "you need your sleep."

"No." You shook your head quickly. Your words slurred together. "No, no, I don't need to sleep." He walked with you down the hall, and you fought him (although not effectively, just insistently). "If I sleep, I dream. If I dream, I dream of a big, black bird."

You turned around and started walking the opposite way down the hall as he tried to usher you toward the stairs. He followed after you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and holding you there as his lips lingered behind your ear. "The black bird came and went."

You shook your head, leaning your head back on his shoulder and staring at the ceiling with a far off look and a smile that didn't match your grief. "He's still there, darling." You sighed shakily. "Gets bigger every night."

He stood there for a moment with his arms around your waist before dipping down to pick you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs like a bride. "No one is dying, Miss Gold," he ensured. "Not your sisters and definitely not you."

He carried you all the way up as you turned to face him, worry in your face. "And what about you, Tommy?" You stared at him as he continued down the hall. You raised a hand to his cheek cradling it for a moment. "Are you dying?"

He stared at you, standing in the doorway of his room. He could smell the liquor on your lips, he could see the glaze in your eyes as they stare at you, unfocused. He shook his head. "No," he said. "Not today." He licked his lips and walked farther into the room, closing the door behind him. "My work isn't done yet."

You chuckled, brushing your fingers along his jawline. "The black bird comes for us all." Your smile turned sour as you stared at him before your eyes dropped to his lips.

Tommy sighed. "Not tonight." He lowered you onto the bed, grabbing the covers to try to put over you. "Now go to sleep."

You pushed the covers off you, sitting up on your knees and taking his face in your hands. "I don't want to sleep, darling."

He held his hands to your waist. "No? What do you want?"

You put it bluntly, your words sticky and attempting sultry seduction. It's harder when you're drunk.

"I want you," you moaned, kissing his lips briefly as you speak. "I want you to fuck me. Want you to pin me to the ground and shove your cock in me, sir." You leaned back on your elbows, spreading your legs for him. "Take my mind from the pain in my heart and put it on the pain in my knees."

Tommy watched you. He leaned forward and cupped the side of your neck in his palm. His dark eyes looked up and down your face, lingering on your lips as you smiled at him. He shook his head, "I'm not going to fuck you." Your smile fell, and you looked like you would cry. "Not until I know you're okay, and right now, you need sleep."

He shifted you to lay back against the pillows. You still wouldn't comply, placing a hand on his chest and keeping me back. "Don't make me sleep, Tommy." You seemed almost desperate, but the fatigue was still etched in the expression on your face, there in the depths of your eyes. "Please. I can be such a good girl if you let me."

He was unyielding, urging you back with gentle hands. "Be my good girl and lie down." He kicked his shoes off, undoing the top buttons of his shirt to pull it over his head and unfastening his belt.

"Tom," you mumbled, still refusing, even if your movements are becoming weaker by the second.

"Come on, next to me," he said gently, settling into the bed with you as he pulled you close to him.

"Thomas," you whispered.

He shook his head, "Sleep now." He pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to soothe you. You shifted and kissed his lips, moving your leg over his body to sit on top of him as you smoothed your hands on his chest. You reached down to undo the button of his pants.

Tommy wasn't having it. You wouldn't be getting your way tonight if he could help it as he grabbed your hands. He rolled you over onto your back as he now hovered above you. His hands held your own at either side of your head, keeping you pressed into the bed as he stared down at you.

Your eyes bore into his own and you held your breath as he leaned forward. You lifted your head as much as you could, wanting to meet you in the middle. His face stopped just out of your reach as he shook his head. "Sleep."

He moved off of you, laying down and pulling you onto his chest. He took your hand in his, holding it as the other one rubbed soothing into your back.

You stared at him as he eased you to sleep, and he did the same. He watched your eyelid grow too heavy for you to keep open. He listened to your breath even out. He felt your body go limp against him as finally…you fell asleep next to him.

He kissed your forehead and rested back to do the same.

-

Breath filled your lungs as the bite of consciousness nipped at your heels. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked around, finding yourself in a familiar place with the familiar feeling of Tommy Shelby's chest under your cheek.

And for a split second, you forget everything. You forget the death of your brother, the death of your father, the grief of your sisters and yourself. You forget it all in favour of this moment with Tommy, peaceful and undisturbed.

But then it all came back, and you were shoved back to the reality where your family was dying and you still had to hold it all together.

Your mind was clearer now, the alcohol had washed away and made the weight of it all heavier to bear. You were tired, you were miserable, and all you wanted to do was wade off into the stream and sleep.

Your breath caught in your throat and shook. The pain in your chest and in your stomach twisted, wetting your face and encouraging the tiny sob you tried so hard to keep in. You didn't want to disturb, not when he slept so peacefully next to you with an arm tucked around your body. But your cries, however quiet, roused him from his rest.

He eased up to look down at you. Shushing you softly, he pulled you in closer and placed a hand to your cheek to have you look at him. His thumb wiped your tears away as it came, smearing them on the skin of your cheeks as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. You want to cherish it more—tenderness is not a word associated with this man—but you can only lean into it and nothing more.

You buried your head into the crook of his neck, hiding your face there. "It hurts, Tommy," you breathed.

"I know it does," he said. He stroked a hand along your head, rubbing your back. "Go back to sleep."

You shook your head. "I don't want to sleep."

He sighed, pulling you from his neck to stroke your cheeks as he looked at your face, streaked with tears he wiped away. "Maybe not, but you need to."

You shook your head, placing a hand over his chest. "I want to feel something else, Tommy," you confessed. You smoothed your hand up the length of his chest, up the side of his neck as you cradled him. "I want you. I want you to take me like you did the first time." Memories of that night flooded into you. "Be rough with me, Tommy. Be hard and mean, make me cry."

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his as your eyes fluttered closed. He leaned into you, slotting your lips with his as the kiss sank into a depth he knew too well with you, a depth he knew he shouldn't have had with you but did anyway. You sighed at the feeling of it, and he did the same.

As the kiss broke with a tiny smack, he cradled your cheek in his large palm. He sighed, "No."

You frowned and ducked your head against his chest. "Please, Tommy," you whispered, broken and helpless.

He lifted your face again, pressing his lips to yours once more in another very slow and very soft kiss. The warm feeling washed over you and provided a comfort you find it hard to keep. "Don't worry, love," he said as he pulled away. "I'll make you cry."

He sat up, turning over so you laid on the sheets and he leaned over you, his hands on either side of your head in the pillows. "But I'm not going to hurt you," he kissed your lips, "and I'm not going to yell," your jaw, "and I'm not going to call you names," your neck. His hand stroked up your chest, and you thought he'd clasp it around your neck. Instead, he held his palm gently against the side of your neck and kissed you again. As he pulled away, he stared into your eyes, his piercing blues and little less piercing and a little more soothing. He looked at you like you were the stars.

"I'm going to make love to you."

He leaned down and kissed your neck again, tilting your head away to give him more access to press his lips against the skin of your throat. They slid down, not a trace of teeth, only lips and tongue and a kind of tenderness that made you shiver.

One of his legs, buried between your thighs, shifted up to ghost over the ache there. You bit your lip, a small mewl slipping between them at the feeling of your pleasure.

But you didn't want tenderness. You didn't want him to make love to you. You wanted him to shove you to the floor and fuck you like you weren't worth anything. You wanted him to take you over his lap and smack your arse. You wanted him to make you take his cock down your throat and keep it there until he decided it was enough.

But that was not what he did.

Tommy kissed you and kissed you. He ghosted his hands over your body and stroked your skin like you were made of glass. He slipped your clothes off of you and set them neatly to the side, doing the same to the rest of his own. He grazed his lips along your body and let his tongue adore the flesh he could reach. He tasted the sweetness of your skin. He filled your body with pleasure and intimacy and so much care.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke. "You're alright, love. Let me take care of you."

You couldn't take it. It was too gentle, too fond, too much filling that ache inside of you that had become so permanent in your life, you'd forgotten it was ever even there. Even as you tried to press his head closer, he was gentle. Even as you moved your hips up to meet him, he was gentle. Even as you dug your nails into his skin, wanting to rile him up until he forgot his care and took you like a dog, he was gentle.

Because you needed it.

He lifted your thighs over his shoulders, settling between them as he darted his tongue out and licked a long strip up your pussy. You sighed when his lips closed around your clit and he suckled on it. His tongue licked you up in slow, soft laps, dipping between your folds and curling.

"Tommy, please," you begged, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging. The feeling was too nice, too kind. It writhed in your gut, tingled in your fingers. You needed the burn, you needed the fire. But he would only give you the warmth and closeness that made your throat tight.

His finger played at your pussy, coating him in your slick before slipping into you, a slow thrust in and out as he pushed it in deep. You watched him, whimpering pathetically and hoping your weakness will make him dangerous.

That's how it goes right? Taunt a beast with fresh blood and he'll attack?

But Tommy didn't seem to be holding the values of a beast tonight. His kind fingers filled your pussy and stroked inside of you. He licked and kissed and stroked until you began to tighten around him. His thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing slow, sure circles into it to build you higher and higher.

You were so used to his cruelty, the way he brought you to your pique with gentle hands was so foreign as you moaned. The pleasure wasn't blinding. It unfurled in your belly and then spread over the rest of your body. It loosened all the tension in your muscle and bone, it soothed your blood and lessened the crushing weight on your shoulders. You opened your legs wider, spreading yourself open for more as you keened for his touch.

"Good girl," he whispered to you, his fingers still working away. "Good, breathe." He didn't stop, even as you were coming down from your high. His fingers kept at it, his lips kissed the slick from your folds and whispered praises to you that you never thought you'd hear from him. "I'm right here. You're not alone."

"Tom," you huffed, cradling his cheek in one hand. "Thomas."

Your breaths filled your lungs, made you dizzy with him, surrounded by his scent and his touch. "I know, love," he said. "You're doing great."

His lips met your clit again. His tongue delved into your cunt and licked the wetness off of you. He kept you spread open wide for him as he painted his empathy into you.

He continued to whisper to you as he stroked your clit through to your second orgasm, watching your back arch and your chest expand and listening to your breath shudder through your weak moan. The pleasure washed over like waves on the shore of a beach.

Tommy let your legs down and kissed your belly, an open-mouthed kiss that let's his tongue graze your skin. He moved back up your body, aiming to kiss you again before stopping at your breasts. He took one of them in his hand, squeezing gently and brushing his thumb over your nipple.

Shivers rushed down your spine at the feeling, even more so when he leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked it, hardening it to a peak as he licked the tip into your nipple. He rolled it in his mouth, playing with it in the way only he knew how, feeding off your sighs of pleasure.

When that one was hard enough, he switched to the other side, giving it the same treatment as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. You brought your hands to his hair, your grasp much looser as you held onto him.

"Tommy, please kiss me," you sighed as he spent too much time away from your lips. He relented to you, roles reversed as he moved to do exactly that. His lips were warm and plump against yours, still tasting of your slick as his tongue brushed your own and he sucked gently on your bottom lip.

He pulled at you, staring with pupils wide as dimes. His knuckles grazed along your jaw. "Do you want my cock, love?" he asked.

You nodded, crossing your arms at your wrists above your head and wrapping your legs around his waist. "Yes, sir," you nearly begged. "I want it rough."

It was a last ditch effort.

But Tommy shook his head, taking your wrists and pulling them back down to kiss. "No," he said. "You're not getting it rough." He moved your arms around his neck, and you held them there.

Your frown deepened. "Please, sir."

He shook his head. "Use my name."

"Sir?"

"Use my name," he said again, his voice holding a whisper of the dominance you were used to while remaining the soft and gentle whisper you weren't. "What's my name?"

"Thomas Shelby." You were really just trying to get a rise out of him. Again, last ditch effort. Maybe he'd break and fuck you like you wanted it. So hard, you forgot everything that had been hurting you.

"What is my name?" he repeated himself. You felt like it was the last time he would.

"Tommy," you whispered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. He did the same, kissing your lips quickly.

"Do you want me?"

"Badly."

"Then I'll give me to you. I'm going to make love to you," he lined himself up with you, stroking the hard length of himself a couple of times. "I'm going to be gentle," he kissed your lips, "and I'm going to be slow," he pressed the head of his cock at your folds, "And I'm going to make you cry."

With one thrust of his hips, he pushed himself inside of you, splitting you on his cock and filling you with his length. A deep sigh slipped out of both of you as your eyes fluttered. He pressed himself all the way inside of you, buried to the hilt and lingered there.

"I'm going to do this because you deserve it," he continued, his voice strained with a slight grunt. His hips eased back, pulling out slowly to the tip before pushing back in. "Because you are gentle," he rolled his hips into you, "and loving," he pulled out to the tip again, "and you don't get nearly enough of it back." He filled you again, you gasped.

His body weight on top of yours was a comfort. He didn't drop all of his weight on top of you, but what he did give was a pleasant pressure on your body. You wrapped yourself as tightly around him as you could, trying to bury your face in his shoulder and being stopped when he pulled you back to look him in the eyes. He stared at you, gazed into the depths of your eyes as he continued to speak, his words a whisper and his tenderness a salve to a broken heart.

"You deserve so much," he grunted. The drag of his cock inside of you was intoxicating, and you wanted more. But he did not change. His pace was slow and steady and filled you with so much emotion, you felt you were going to burst. You were struggling to hold it all in.

"You're beautiful," he said.

You shook your head, "Stop."

"You're lovely."

You tried to turn away, he kept you looking him in the eyes. "Tommy, please."

He held your jaw, still kind, and gazed into your eyes like he was afraid you wouldn't hear him otherwise. "You're fucking perfect."

You broke into a sob, quiet but all-consuming. His hips didn't stop, he kept thrusting in long, deep strokes, grinding his hips into yours and wiping your tears. "You hear me? Eh?" he said, kissing you again. "You're fucking perfect."

His praise was too much for you. He was too nice. You were too used to nice, but kindness coming from a person like this—a man who had fucked you into the floor and called you a filthy whore, a man who had bought you with a penny and used you like a toy—it gave a kind of pleasure you couldn't quite explain as he stroked your cheeks and wiped your tears and told you that you were perfect.

"Anyone who tells you different is a fucking liar," he whispered in your ear, grinding in deep. "You're fucking beautiful and you're lovely and you're perfect. I need you to know that, I need you to know how fucking perfect you are."

You cupped his face in your hands, cherishing him as he spoke, as he thrusted into you, as he filled you with his care and praise and promise. "Do you hear me?" he asked as you closed your eyes shut, overcome by your tears. "Open your eyes and look at me. I need you to see me when I call you my fucking girl."

You whimpered, sighing with every thrust of his hips and holding him to you with your legs and arms. His breath shuddered as he pressed himself deep inside you, your bodies pressed flat together, and rolled his hips into you, stroking that deep part of you that had you gasping for breath.

"Thomas, ahh," you keen, your breath catching on a moan.

He was pressing kisses into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips where he could reach pressed so closely to you. Your breath shook and your eyes fluttered as you focused on nothing but Tommy, being his girl, being his. You wanted it more than you wanted to admit.

One of his large hands pressed to your cheek as he turned you to look at him. "You said you wanted a baby of your own, eh? I'll put one in you right now. I'd have you growing round with my fucking child." His hips jerked once, a stuttered thrust pulling a moan from you at the idea. "The perfect mother for my child."

A broken sob pulled from your chest at his words, the thought of him having such a claim on you intoxicating you with warmth. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you still pulled him in closer as your bodies were pulled flush together.

She watched him above her, his eyes not quite as cold and piercing, his lips two kisses from swollen, and his cheeks pink with the blood rushing through his veins. His hands on your hips tightened as you met his gaze. Then he let go of you, and you missed the warmth of his palms until his finger intertwined with your own and his thumbs brushed the meat of your palms. He pulled them above your head, pulling both hands into one of his and burying his other hand between your thighs to play with your swollen clit.

"Thomas," you whispered, your voice shallow and breathy and teetering on a moan. You whispered his name again, and again, and again as you felt the pleasure building within you.

His rhythm began to falter, his hips not as steady as before as your whispers of his name beckoned him closer to his release. He cursed under his breath, his chest heavy with breath and something else.

He felt as your pussy tightened around him, squeezing and warming his already hot cock as you grew closer to that tender embrace of ecstasy. "Fuck," he muttered. "Cum for me, love. Let it all go."

And you did. Your back arched and your jaw went slack, your muscles tightened and you fluttered around his cock as you came. A loud moan rolled out of you like the tidal wave that washed over you. You stuttered out his name as you felt him bury his cock deep inside of you as he ground his hips, groaning roughly as he finally came with you.

You wrapped your legs tighter around him as he spilled inside of you, filling you with his cum and making the warmth of it all spread throughout your tired limbs. "Tommy," you whimpered, your voice caught in the pleasure. "Fuck, I love you."

It was a string of words that left your lips in a rush, a fantasy that clawed its way to the surface and revealed something you weren't quite sure you knew yourself. It took you a moment to even realise what had left your mouth, you were so drowned in the dreamlike state he put you in.

Tommy's thrusts slowed to a stop as he stared at your face, his lips parted and plump. He didn't pull out of you or say a word. He lifted a hand to your cheek and brushed his thumb over your skin. You stilled as you stared at him, your heart pounding in fear of his response.

He still didn't speak for a while, watching your face and wiping away the fallen tears streaking on your skin. He licked his lower lip.

"Say it again."

Another tear slipped as you watched him, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I'm sorry," you murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it. It's nothing."

He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his thumb on your bottom lip before releasing it gently. "So you don't love me?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't lie to him, even if you tried. You had only just realised it yourself, only just succumbed to your rogue subconscious and blurted out a secret thought in the heat of the moment. A thought too true for you to deny as you stared at the blue eyes you had spent months—years—memorising, the plush lips your own had kissed a million times over.

"Do you love me?" he asked, his face barely an inch from yours once again. "Hm?"

You swallowed thickly, your voice was hardly a whisper. "Yes."

"Then say it again."

You sighed shakily and licked your bottom lip. "I love you…Tommy."

He closed his eyes and breath in deep, letting it out slowly and softly as he repeated the words in his head like a broken record. You waited in anticipation of his response.

He leaned forward and met your lips with his own, the kiss slow and soft and endearing, brimming with care.

"Good," he whispered back, his voice rough and quiet. "Because I love you, too. Right here, right now, without a doubt… I love you."

You brought your hands to wrap around his neck and pulled him in. He thought you were going to kiss him, but you just held him tightly against your body as you closed your eyes and cried. For the longest time, with your bodies pressed together, with his cock still snug inside of you, with your tears slipping down your cheeks and into your hairline, you cried.

He petted you, stroking his hand along your hair and holding you to him. He let you cry without interruption, without shushing you and telling you "it's okay". He let you sob against him with all the love and grief and care and anger in your heart.

And when your cries subsided and you were able to breathe again, he rolled onto his side and brought you with him as he kissed you again, just as tender and loving as the ones before.

You laid your head on your chest, sniffling gently as your finger smoothed along his skin. "Do you really love me?" you asked quietly.

He nodded, thinking on the way holding you right then made him feel, the nostalgic feeling that filled his homes at the reminder of a love he'd once held in the past, one that still haunts him to this day and only eased with the idea of you. "Yes."

You nodded gently. "You ever been in love before?"

He was a little more hesitant this time, but he still nodded once more as his hand stroked your shoulder. "Yes." He glanced down at you, "Have you?"

You shook your head, "Not like this…" He didn't reply, and you swallowed thickly. "Do you…" You let out a tiny breath. "Do you think I'm going to have a baby now?"

He looked at you and grinned, a look that made you warm. "Hopefully," he chuckled. He leaned back again and closed his eyes, "Gives me an excuse to put a ring on your finger."

You sat up and looked at him, surprise written across your face. "A ring? Already?"

He opened his clear eyes again, still smiling. "I've already decided I'm not letting anyone else have you. So, yes, already." He leaned forward, meeting you halfway in another kiss. "I'm marrying you, love."

You smiled slowly, letting it grow and grow and grow until your cheeks hurt and then after. Glancing away from his face, you let out a tiny chuckle. You eased your way out of the bed, out of his embrace, and went to his coat where you fished a coin from his pockets.

Slipping back into bed next to him, you fiddled with the coin between your fingers. "I'll flip you for it," you smiled. "Heads–"

He took the coin from your hand. "Heads, you marry me. Tails, I marry you. Either way, we're getting married, we're having that baby, and you're stuck with me forever." He tossed the coin away so it landed somewhere on the floor where you couldn't see it with a loud drawl.

You bit your bottom lip, failing to contain a beautiful smile. You nodded, "Okay." You kissed his lips, grinning still as you just kept nodding. "Okay."

"Good," he said, holding you close again and stroking your side. "You're mine, Mrs. Shelby."

You couldn't hold in the chuckle that slipped from your lips. "Well," you sighed happily. "A deal's a deal."

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