#Michael gray fluff

[eviegray]

imagine: michael gray comforts/helps you during a panic attack

you've never felt this way before. sure, you've been anxious before but had never gone through something like this.

you could swear you couldn't breathe. it's like your throat was deliberately closing itself and not allowing the air to circulate through, your heart racing at unbelievable speed... dizziness... palpitations and chest pain.

it felt like you were slowly being detached from your own body... almost as if you were watching yourself from someone else's perspective and you could do nothing about it.

lost in your thoughts, you didn't realise michael had entered the room.

as he stepped into the living room, michael's smile slowly faded as he saw you standing, almost as if you were in pure shock, trying your very best to breathe.

when his eyes landed on your figure, he dropped all the paperwork he was carrying and went to your rescue.

"sweetheart, talk to me. what is happening?" he asks, clear worry in his voice.

in all honesty, you tried, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

"it's okay baby, come sit down with me. it should help." he holds your hand and carefully guides you to the sofa with him.

michael's heart broke seeing you like this. he hated the fact that he wasn't there to help you since the beginning and you almost had to go through this horrible thing alone.

not anymore. he was there now, and he was going to help you.

"it's ok love. try to focus on your breathing only. is it ok if we try to breathe at the same time together? very slowly?" he asks.

you nod yes and carefully follow his instructions.

slowing inhaling and exhaling... you both do it a couple of times until you start feeling yourself coming back.

while he tries to get you to come back to your senses, he holds you close to his body.

"you're doing so well baby, I'm so proud of you. let's just keep going for a little bit longer until we get there ok?" he asks.

"okay, but can you please keep holding me?" you ask.

"of course I will. I wouldn't let you go, especially now." you can feel his arms getting tighter around your waist, his face around your neck... how comfortable and warm he feels against your skin...

michael brings you such comfort that it doesn't take too long for you to be back to normal.

"there we go. that's my baby back. how are you feeling now love?" he asks as he softly caresses your face.

"i think i'm alright now. thank you for helping me michael." you say, voice low.

"i'll always be here for you love. I'll never let you go through anything like this alone. never ever." he replies as he lays down with you, pulling your body next to his, giving you a gentle forehead kiss.

[peakywitch]

Wish I could - Michael Gray

asked! "Hey hope your day’s going well :) “I wish I could marry you…” & Michael Gray? Thanks so much love 💕" SPOILER FREE! pure fluff, too!

500 words!

masterlist

check out my prompt list! you can send an ask, because i'll be updating A LOT! And also, please let me know what type of thingy you want, fluff, angst, blah blah blah, so i won't dissappoint anyone and everyone will get what they want!

“I wish I could marry you…” he whispered in her ear, while holding her from behind.

The fire was burning softly, and the dog that they found one night a few years ago in the darkness of the alley was now the most loyal guard dog for baby Eliza. Everywhere she went, so did Porridge. And her curious nose was always trying to tuck her safely under the blue blanket. Polly had been wrong, for once in her life. It wasn’t a boy, like everyone predicted, it was a girl. A giggly and calm girl, one that didn’t give them too much trouble.

“You wish you could marry me?” she muttered back, her fingers going up and down his forearm.

“Yes, I wish I could marry you. Again, you know?”

When Y/N met Michael, she thought he was a tough one, a man like Tommy. One that would only keep her warm in the lonely hours of the night, and that she wouldn’t feel seen, admired, obscenely loved. But Michael had that in himself, he was open, yet so private. All, all of his love was just for the two women in his life: Eliza and Y/N. His daughter and his wife.

His family.

His dreams had come true, his truest, deepest and realest dream was now his reality. A family to come home to, a wife that had his back and would stick through thick and thin and a daughter that he would do anything for. He didn’t like to navigate too much into that thought, because the mere idea of having to go to the inhuman levels of brutality to just be sure that her future would be promised, gave him goosebumps and a sense of anxiety. Not because he didn’t want to do those things, but because he wanted Eliza to grow up away from that life. Away from what he once was. What he told himself he wasn’t anymore.

But, was he ever something before her? He could barely remember who he was before her. A man whose heart only had a beat to keep him alive, and now that same heart was full with love, pride and so many other emotions that made Michael realize he wasn’t alive before.

Whoever the person before him was, he was long gone. The feeling of the sticky and warm blood dripping from his hands was now even barely there, since it was replaced by that first feeling of hugging his daughter. So small, so soft, so light and ever so fragile. If there’s anything more precious than his memory of holding her for the first time… he didn’t want to know.

“Tomorrow is our anniversary, you can write some vows if you want. You know I love it when you just tell me over and over again how amazing I am.” Michael laughed a bit louder than he would have wanted, and Liz mumbled something from her crib. They both froze in their place. “If you wake her up, Michael Gray, you’re taking over. I’m too tired.”

He was tired, too. He was a working man and one of the few men in the city that actually did something in the house. But he would put through the baby fuzz if that meant spending one or two more hours with her.

[thepeakygurl]

hi lovelies, I’ve decided to make a new multifandom blog @khaleesiofwritings

As a multifandom blog, I will be writing for Stranger Things, Peaky Blinder, MCU, Harry Potter and Bridgerton as a start… so if you are a fan of any of those, what are you waiting for? Go make a request!

I will still be active in here, but I will gradually move to @khaleesiofwritings as I intend to write for more fandoms, so yeah. Make a request if you like, i’d be happy to write for you☀️

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You��d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you...? 1

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, Fluff,

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: Requested by anonymous.

Part 2

A deep silence descended upon the land. The ocean was calling, singing, and chanting. Oblong clouds obscured the waxing moon. Creatures cried out and escaped the shelter of the rising shadows. The door was shut and a low prayer escaped her quivering lips.

The wounds pained terribly, crimson oozed, a narrow river and the stabbing pain in her side made it impossible to form a clear thought. Helplessly, Y/N banged on the door. Peggy must be in the house, Y/N thought to herself, saw a faint light flickering in the living room and, listening closely, she thought she could hear the sounds of a sewing machine.

Footsteps echoed again, and the flame of hope awakened. The light was blinding and Y/N squinted her eyes, stumbled back, and cursed like a sailor.

Peggy whispered Y/N´s name. Her eyes were wide, threatening to fall out. Hands clawed into the holey material of the filthy coat, pulling Y/N into the depths of the house. Peggy gulped, and closed the door, locked it, had looked earlier to see if anyone had followed her best friend. Her lips parted, could not speak, dared not to ask questions, feared the worst, the answer. The young woman swallowed and stared at her hands. A liquid clung to her trembling fingers, and cursing, Peggy realised it was crimson. Y/N's blood. It was warm and dripping down onto the carpet. A cry escaped her, pacing, wondering what to do, had never seen so much blood. It was too much blood, Peggy thought to herself, knew it.

Guiding Y/N towards to living room, Peggy tried in vain to get information from the beaten woman, but Y/N stayed in silence, unable to answer, to speak, to pray nor to curse. Carefully, fearing to hurt her even more, Peggy guided Y/N to the sofa and pushed her down, ignoring the fact the reddish liquid would soak into the pale material of the sofa opposite of the table with the sewing machine.

            "What happened? Y/N talk to me! Who did this to you?" Peggy asked hysterically.

Mud, dried, and fresh, stuck to shoes and coat. The red lipstick was smeared and a horrible blueness spread over the flesh, like ice, shining faint but Peggy saw the wounds clearly in the dim light. She prayed again. Warily, she placed her trembling fingers on Y/N´s and repeated the question she had asked hundreds of times.

            "Why are you here? The Shelby's can help you more with this. I am not a nurse! I am a seamstress, Y/N/N.", "No." was all Y/N found strength to say.

Promptly Peggy understood, remembered the stories shrouded in shadows. No questions escaped Peggy and helped her good friend out of the ruined garment, once a beautiful coat. Peggy turned hesitant, freed Y/N´s arms and narrowed her eyes. Shocked, she noticed Y/N was not crying, but staring into the void, not reacting in any way when she accidentally brushed against the gaping wounds.

Eyes grew. Marks pale as the moon, hoary footprints spread across the torn blue dress, and Peggy could not believe her eyes, thought for a moment it was a terrible dream from which she would awake, but then as the sticky crimson dried on her skin, she realised it wasn’t a dream. Urgently Y/N looked up, didn’t look at her fingers, feeling the awakening pain in her chest yet she felt empty, couldn’t scream, having screamed too much, pleading for mercy.

            "I won't call anyone, I understand, you can stay with me, they won't look for you here, no one will find you. No one followed you, I looked. I'll take care of you; you don't have to worry." Peggy breathed, trying to speak as calmly as possible.

The torn fabric fell to the ground. Peggy knelt down and played with the laces of the shoes, freeing Y/N's feet from the clutches of the uncomfortable looking shoes.

Suddenly eyes shot up.

            “...did they?" Peggy couldn't finish the sentence.

            "No.", "I told you from the beginning that this family would bring you nothing but pain. I would kill your parents; they should be ashamed of themselves and if I were them, I wouldn't even leave the house. They sold you out. Shame on them! Bloody pigs." Peggy yelled indignantly.

Swiftly she rose but Y/N did not answer, glancing after her as she disappeared with hasty steps through the open door into another room and after a few moments in which the only sound filling the room was her heavy breathing she returned cursing with a first aid kit in her possession.

            "Talk to me.", "Tell me what happened." Peggy urged in an almost imperious yet loving tone.

Peggy needed to hear what happened, but again Y/N shook her head, wishing to stay in silence, fearing the words resting on the tip of her tongue, trying to ban the memories from heart and mind. Y/N clawed her fingers into the ragged dress, felt the fibres threatening to cave in, the fibres tearing. The memories rolled in waves, overtaking her like an army, but Y/N knew she had to be strong, that she didn't have a strong shoulder to lean on.

Firmly, she pressed her lips into a line. Sickening sensations spread through her mouth. The nasty taste of copper spilled into her mouth, but Y/N suppressed the urge to spit, to puke.

            "They were waiting for me. They know who I belong to. I couldn’t do anything. They didn't want to kill me, but I think I'm about to die. I won't make it through the night. Today was my last day at work, they waited across the street, followed me and then chased me down like an animal, a deer." Y/N whispered.

Y/N felt like a fool and took a deep breath. White dots danced. The reek was sickening, but no complaint crossed her lips as Peggy wiped the crimson with the damp cloth away. She breathed a low excuse and continued to clean Y/N´s arms and legs.

            "I have seen them once or twice, in a bar with Thomas. I know them.” she continued.

            “What happened after?” Peggy asked hesitantly.

She knew the answer, saw it clearly, the cuts and deep traces.

            “They dragged me into an alley. There were five of them. I didn't stand a chance; they were too fast, too strong, I tried to fight, I really tried, but they." Y/N mumbled.

She closed her eyes, saw the men lunge at her like ravenous barbarians, laughing as tears escaped, hands clenched into fists, cursing and shouting, and when the man noticed more and more blood oozed, they stopped and fled as quickly as they had come.

Peggy glanced up. Flashes of flame blazed, seeing the memories Y/N's eyes reflected, but she continued with her work, disinfecting the deep wounds with the cloth, applied ointments and bandages, hoping it would be enough.

            "Why hasn't anyone picked you up. I would. Why did nobody pick you up? You are a woman, you need protection. I hope you know how I mean it. Yes, you are strong but not strong enough to fight with your fists. I rarely leave the house alone and I am not associated with the Shelby’s. What will you tell your husband? Won't he be looking for you?" Peggy asked.

Y/N laughed dryly. Her head fell back. She bit hard on her lower lip as Peggy apologised for the pain she was causing.

            "Thomas Shelby may be my husband but he doesn't love me. His heart is hard as a rock. He married me because I'm a good catch. His family, every one of them hates me, even the women but the children are nice. They like me, I think or they feel sorry for me." Y/N gasped as the ointment burned into her skin.

Laughing, it sounded bitter, full of pain, Y/N looked down at the ring Thomas had given her, a sign of loyalty, endless love and trust, but Y/N knew as well as Peggy that this was not the case.

            "But what can I do. If it was up to him, he would throw me out of the house. He doesn't need me. My father is a good lawyer, he doesn't care about me and I won't talk about my mother." Y/N breathed, so softly, unsure if Peggy had heard the answer.

She closed her eyes, felt tears travelling down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away, let them flow in narrow streams.

            "That's why I came to see you. What am I supposed to do there?" Y/N laughed bitterly.

Y/N imagined the situation when she would enter the house, she couldn’t call home.

            "I might also be told that it's my fault. I shouldn't have been on the streets. Maybe they will say I need to dress differently. Can I stay at your place tonight? I don't feel like walking to the Shelby's nor my parents, they probably wouldn't even open the door for me." Y/N said.

She did not doubt her words for a moment.

            "Of course, you can stay here Y/N, you can stay as long as you want, you can move in for all I care. Don't you want me to call him? Won't he be surprised if you don't arrive tonight?" Peggy said.

Carefully, she placed her hand on Y/N's knee and slowly lifted the hem of the dress to inspect the blueness more closely. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, knew the answer, knew it well, but the words didn't escape but she was sickened by her own thoughts, by the truth.

            "I don't care, you don't have to call the Shelby's, it's not necessary, but I won't stop you, I want to protect you, don't be surprised if no one cares, but maybe the kids will come to see me. There are days when he doesn't even come home. Maybe he visits local houses. I don’t know, but I suspect it.” Y/N answered.

            “Y/N/N, if you want you can stay for the rest of the week, my parents won't mind and if you don't want to be alone, you can help me with my work tomorrow, you can help me with the dresses." added Peggy, almost joyfully.

Weakly, Y/N nodded, already looking forward to spending time in the presence of a friendly person. She had almost forgotten the pain, but whenever she thought it had faded into nothingness, an unpleasant twinge spread through her chest, bearing hundreds of arrows.

            "Would you like to come to my room? My bed is big enough for both of us, and I'll have a better conscience than leaving you down here alone." Peggy asked, looking up and immediately noticing the tiredness spreading across Y/N´s features.

            "No, I'm staying here and I don't think I'll be able to make it upstairs. Don't worry about me and as you said, no one followed me and I know no one will look for me. At the end of the day, who am I? They don't need me, if I disappear my father will continue to work for them, he never liked me, I'm not his blood after all, I'm just a replacement and my mother, I don't even know when we talked together in peace. And even if I were lying there in the alley, it would be more likely that a dog would find me and lie by my side than one of them fearing for my safety." Y/N spoke.

Satisfied with her work, Peggy placed the ointment and the plasters on the table and rose from her place on the cold wooden floor. Her hair was curled in rolls and a long bathrobe in shades of dark green covered her long frilly nightdress. Peggy took a few steps, picked up the blanket folded on the dark armchair, and lowered it onto Y/N, covering her legs and upper body and placed a soft pillow at her side. Y/N breathed words of thanks and smiled weakly.

            "It will be best if I drive you home tomorrow. It will be better. When do you want me to take you home? Probably not until the afternoon. I'll cook us something delicious for dinner and I'll make you a new dress. I have a very lovely fabric, the colour will suit you well.", “I don't have a home. Thank you, Peggy, I don't know how to thank you, I'm very grateful for what you do for me. Go to sleep, I'll rest too." Y/N whispered brokenly.

Stillness descended and Peggy wanted to embrace Y/N, hold her tenderly as she witnessed the pain blazing in her broken eyes and it was at that moment Peggy realised the woman, a few steps away from her, was only a shadow of her dear friend.

[mrs-fuckin-shelby]

‘Nightmares’

A little h/c Tommy x reader imagine

‘No… no! No, please…’ he muttered in his sleep. The nightmares. The endless fucking nightmares… they always came back. He turned and tossed lightly , but he movements were full of panic and fright.

His muffled cries made their way into your dream, yours was about Tommy and so sweet. You woke up immediately as you heard him and opened your eyes. You sat upright and looked next to you: he was dreaming, and his wasn’t lovely… His jaw was clenched tightly, his hair tousled and damp, his eyes squeezed shut.

The sight was heart-wrenching… ‘Tommy.’ you said gently, he had to wake up but you didn’t want to scare him. ‘So cold… dark.’ He gritted through his teeth. He was talking about the war, about the tunnels. ‘Tommy.’ you said again, ‘Darling, wake up.’

He opened his eyes with a loud cry and looks around, eyes burning with sheer dread and terror. ‘Tommy, hey.’ You said but he wasn’t looking at you, his bright eyes were fixed on the wall. ‘I don’t want to go back!’ he whimpered. ‘Tommy. Hey, look at me.’ you cupped his cheek carefully. Your touch made him realise he was at home, safely in bed with the woman he loved. ‘You’re safe, it was a nightmare. None of it was real.’

His gaze traveled to the wall again, you instinctively took his hand in yours. ‘Look at me, eh? I’m right here.’ you said calmingly. You were surprised at how well you hid the tremble in your voice. He swallowed and lay down, facing you. ‘It’s alright.’ You whispered and swiped a strand of sweat soaked hair from his forehead. His eyes were watery, tears pooling at his long lashes. Your fingers stroked his cheekbone and caressed his face. ‘I’m sorry…’ he said, his voice was broken. He felt ashamed because he wanted to be brave and put his mind to rest, put an end to the night terrors.

‘Hey, don’t. You’re strong and brave. And I’ll always be here, I promise.’

A sigh escaped his lips as you pressed a gently kiss onto his temple. He felt so safe and loved when he was with you. He smiled weakly and brushed your cheek with his fingers. ‘I love you.’ he said softly.

‘I love you too, Tommy Shelby.’ you spoke sweetly. You crawled closer to him and pulled him against you. He rested his head in the crook of your shoulder and fell into a blissful sleep.

[cherryjuicegf]

"You've been crying."

Jaskier laughs as Geralt sits beside him on the pebbles and raises his eyebrows, not looking at him still. "Now you can tell the salt of tears from that of the sea too?"

A light hum. "Always could."

A red ray escapes the setting sun and hits the waves, making the tears in his eyes melt as they mirror it. He sniffles and wipes at the trails his previous crying had pathed on his cheeks, and puts on a brave smile. Not really a smile. A curve of lips, at least, because Geralt is here now, the warmth of his body resembling a lit hearth, and it's a kind of comfort. Always has been.

Except. Geralt is staring at him.

Geralt is waiting.

And it's nothing, it really is. Jaskier likes to convince himself it is trivial, because how else could he mend a broken heart, if not with lies. The truth just seems too far out of reach.

But maybe now he is tired. And maybe in another time he wouldn't talk about it, he would only smile wider but now Geralt's stare is so gentle, and his eyes so safe like the sun on a spring's day.

"I feel like I've been missing, you know," he says at last and looks at him straight, soft, because Geralt really does know. "On love. And it's been too long."

What Geralt doesn't know, perhaps, is the way his heart clenches inside his chest and curls on itself like a child punished in the corner. So he frowns. "You? Jaskier, you can have anyone you want. I've seen you." Then, a smile, almost fond. "You fall in love with everyone."

Everyone, everyone. Anyone. Anyone there is. Anyone who looks like maybe, maybe, they will stay, or he is just too careless at this point that he tries anyway. A heart that never has too much. He knows they won't stay. And he knows the one who will stays for a different reason. So, so close.

He smiles, bittersweet, and lowers his look. "Yes, indeed. Everyone." Everyone, she sent a letter today. Never to meet again, never to be seen. Jaskier shakes his head. "And me? Who of all them has fallen in love with me, Geralt?" As if to answer his question, a seabird cries along. The sea, too, a cruel mistress. His voice quivers. "I feel like a desperate dog chasing love, while running from it all the same."

With the corner of his eye he sees Geralt parting his lips and a fake hope blooms in his chest, fading at once when he holds back, and stays silent. And he can only bask in the imagined possibility of what he intended to say.

The tears are done with him now. Only numbness remains.

Eventually, Geralt speaks. "If it is any helpful, no one has ever been in love with me either." The lightness in his voice sounds exactly like the pained strings mending Jaskier’s heart.

But oh, what a foolish man. Jaskier can't help but smile and turn at him, and for a bit he remembers that lonely as it is, he can't stop loving. "Well, that's just not true. I'm in love with you."

As though he doesn't know, as though it's not as simple as it was uttered, Geralt flinches. Jaskier chuckles and averts his gaze again, a little happier than before. Love, it is simple. It's what he does.

Just not something that happens to him.

"Well, then," he hears after some moments, "that makes us even."

He laughs before he thinks. "It does?" And then.

His head spins at once, eyes wide as they meet Geralt's, almost afraid. No, not afraid. Unbelieving. It's been so long, you see. But Geralt only rolls his eyes, oh so fondly, and before Jaskier manages to splutter any words sweet lips are on his, and a hand holding his nape. And it's not like other times. Not like everyone else. It's certain and terrifying and deep like a promise, like two stray roots finding each other through the earth and keeping their living hearts bound forever. Like what he has been craving for so long he forgot he may one day have it. Like Geralt.

And then, as though to seal it, this promise, Geralt pulls back and looks at him like he always does and Jaskier wonders, wonders how this that he never caught stands right here, catching itself. Geralt smiles, voice soft as a feather. "I'm in love with you, Jaskier." And that's it. Simple as that.

His eyes are burning again and Jaskier can only nod, and smile back. And it's almost funny, almost tender how love happens to be so close, so close he can taste its kiss without even trying, just for once.

Just for once, how love happens to him.

[calummss]

Thomas Shelby Hogwarts Professor Short Story

masterlist other chapters

Last Chapter: Fucking in Sin

summary: having problems with your essay, you pay a visit to professor shelby’s office

pairing: professor! thomas shelby x fem student! reader

words: 3.2k

sexual content! and this is my first time writing smut so i apologise

You were lounging around in the common room one evening about a month later besides the warming fire, catching up on Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. You were supposed to write an essay on Chameleon Ghouls but you had so many questions and you were the type of person that couldn’t continue their work unless they had all the answers they needed. Penny and Oliver were scattered across the room scribbling away whilst you were dangling your feet off the sofa.

‘Do you know if Chameleon Ghouls have a timeframe of how long they can stay transformed. Or is it like until they feel like it?’ You asked into the room hoping for an answer in return.

‘No idea, but then again, you always ask questions no one would even think about.’ Penny slid down the wall until she was sprawled out on the floor. ‘I hate this.’ She said. ‘Maybe you should go to Shelby? It’s 9 o’clock but maybe he’ll give you an answer.’

‘I’m afraid I might have to.’ You placed your pen between your lips. Pondering hard if you should go.

‘I’ll go ask the Professor.’ You stood up a minute later. ‘Otherwise I’ll never finish your homework.’

‘Have fun.’ You heard Oliver poke fun at me just as you were about to climb through the portrait hole.

Only a few students were in the halls most likely back to their dormitories as the evening came to an end. On your way to the classroom you saw Percy which ruined your mood, but before you could let out a joke you had arrived at the door.

With shaking hands you grabbed the cold, rusty door handle and slowly swung the door open to reveal Professor Shelby sitting at his wooden desk, grading some papers.

‘What can I do for you?’ Professor Shelby flashed you a smile. Good lord in heaven for I have sinned.

You returned the smile, shutting the door and walked to the front of his desk.

‘Sorry, I know it's rather late to ask questions,’ You admitted. ‘But if I don’t have answers to your questions I find it hard to continue with your work, and I’m having that problem with the essay you gave us, Sir.’

‘If you're having trouble, Miss Granger, you can always come to me— I don't bite." He said, smiling. ‘Nevertheless, it is a little late.’ He placed his quill into the wooden desk. ‘However I’ll make an exception tonight. Just this once, after tonight I’d prefer it if you showed up before.’

‘Of course, Sir. I’m sorry.’

He awaited your next words as you stood in front of him, feet rolling up and down.

‘Ehm, in the book I found nothing on the transformation of the Chameleon Ghouls.’ You placed the book you’d brought with you on the table. ‘When they transform, do they stay like that until they want to or is it limited?’ You lifted your head to look at him.

Professor Shelby continued to listen to your questions and helped you get your answers to all of them. It was nice having a teacher that dedicated his time to his student and actually wanted to help. Unlike Professor Snape who couldn’t give a shit less.

‘By the way Miss Granger, I’d advise you to not give me ‘fuck-me’ eyes during class.’ He nodded. ‘It’s a bit of a distraction to everyone else.’

Your eyes felt like they had popped out of your eye sockets. Your grip tightened around your book not knowing what to do. You were about to leave but it felt like someone was playing around with you like a marionette doll.

He looked at you with lust in his eyes, jaw clenched, inches away from you, nostrils picking up the scent of his cologne.

Seconds later the gap was closed. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours, lips plump and smooth against your own. Shelby’s arms found themselves to your back, pulling you closer than was possible—you wanted to be closer to him.

Your hands had found his hair that you had secretly been dreaming of tugging on since the moment you saw him in Diagon Alley.

You parted your lips, urging him to open his, moaning into his mouth. Dragging his lips against your cheek up to your ear, his hand found your face, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

‘And for the eye-fucking, Miss Granger,’

Your eyes found his; chest rising and falling heavily waiting for him to finish his sentence.

‘I’m just as guilty of that.’ Professor Shelby smirked, pulling you in for one more heated kiss before he pulled away. His breath sent shivers down your spine, raising goosebumps on every available patch of skin that was naked to the open.

Suddenly you felt two fingers mark their touch at your ear, tracing down to your chest.Your nipples poked through the light fabric, earning a chuckle.

‘You’ve been wanting this haven’t you,’ Professor Shelby muttered. ‘So so eager for me to touch you.’

Your breathing hitched. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

Was this truly your reality? Was this actually happening? Were you about to sleep with your Professor?

Professor Shelby stood in front of you again, raising his hand to your head, softly caressing your cheeks. ‘God, you’re so beautiful.’ His thumb inched over your lips, softly touching them. His stare was intense. You knew what he wanted. It was as if a hunter was looking at its prey.

You looked up through your eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his face. Looking up, his thumb pulled down your bottom lip. Your hands were clamped to your side, too awkward to move.

He pushed his thumb into your mouth, slightly catching you off guard.

‘Suck.’

Harsh words left his pursed lips.

Parting your lips, you started to suck on his digit like he ordered. Curious to see his reaction, you stared into his eyes, immediately knowing he was enjoying this view.

‘I didn’t know you were such a horny little thing, let alone for me.’ He finally snickered, pulling his finger out.

‘Do you want this?’ He raised an eyebrow at you. ‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’

‘I—I want this.’ You breathed heavily.

Professor Shelby cupped your face and forcefully kissed you again. Your arms found their way to his neck, to make sure you wouldn’t fall from the force he was impacting you with. His arms were around your lower back, pulling you towards his body.

Suddenly he broke the kiss and stared down at you before muttering a cold, ‘Undress.’ And you did;

You pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest before you took off your jeans and underwear.

‘God, you are so beautiful.’ He stepped towards you, lowering his head to your chest. Shivers went down your spine when Professor Shelby’s tongue made contact with your hard nipple, gently blowing onto it. His tongue glided on the outskirts of your areola. His right hand found its way to your other breast, massaging it thoroughly and pinching your hardened nipple from time to time. You hissed at the pleasure you were receiving, not ever having experienced anything like this. His teeth found their way to your nipple gently nibbling, before playing with it again.

A moan escaped your mouth making him stop. You could feel your cheeks glow red from embarrassment.

‘You like this don’t you?’

You nodded.

‘You like the way I touch you?’

You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt.

‘Can I?’ He asked for approval, not sure if you really wanted this.

‘Yes.’ You breathed out.

His finger went along your slit, earning a twitch from your body, that was very touch deprived. He parted your lips with his index and middle finger and started to explore your already wet pussy.

‘We haven’t even started and you're soaked? Just for me,’ he chuckled. ‘Are you wet for me?’

You closed your eyes and turned to the side, not being able to answer him.

‘Hey…,’ he softly said, turning your head back to him. ‘Answer my question.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, I am wet for you.’

‘That’s it. You’re this wet only for me.’ He pushed his fingers inside of me, making you arch your back.

‘Does this feel good? Do you like your fingers inside of your wet cunt.’ Professor Shelby mumbled into your stomach.

‘Yes, yes it feels s-so good.’ You moaned.

His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving dark marks. He began to pump his fingers out of you slowly, too slow for your liking. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more.

‘Not satisfied darling?’ He cocked at you in a way like never before. But you could only think of the pleasure you were receiving, and whimpered out a no. You barely had time to take another breath before he picked you up, sat you on his desk, and attached his mouth to your aching cunt.

‘Fuck!’ You yelled out, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair. A deep moan escaped his lips, sending vibrations through your body. He added another finger going even faster than his previous pace, curling his fingers, hitting your spot perfectly, making you lose it.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, making you cry out in euphoria. With every forceful hit you felt your orgasm draw nearer and nearer. It felt like a knot inside of your stomach was going to explode any second and Professor Shelby noticed this.

Just before you could release your screams, he pulled out his digits and grinned. But before you could argue with him, he re-attached his mouth to your clit and started to swirl his tongue in every direction possible, gathering more moans that left your lips.

This was a feeling you had never experienced before. Your hands were grasping his hair, whilst your toes were crinkling and your back was arched.

‘Please make me cum,’ You whimpered out desperately.

Professor Shelby’s hand shot up and grabbed your neck, forcing you to look at him. He put slightpressure onto your throat. The second he held your jaw you shut up. It wasn’t uncomfortable. You like it.

‘What did you just say to me?’

‘Can you please make me cum.’

‘From the moment you let me touch that wet little cunt of yours, you were mine. My girl. So I get to decide when you cum. Understood?’ He growled.

He was anything but a nice teacher in private. He was like a beast, but you liked this side of him, you couldn’t lie.

You nodded, signaling you understood.

‘Speak up when I ask you a question, darling.’ He got up on his feet and towered over you, dark eyes staring into your soul.

‘Yes Professor, I understand.’

Taking a huge gulp, you watched him take off his pants and jumper. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs as I you watched him come towards you. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre cum.

‘On your knees.’ He commanded, and like a well trained dog you obliged. He grabbed your jaw, thumb gently rubbing over your lips. You were at eye level with his cock and he was bigger than expected.

‘There we go.’

‘Do you want this?’ He asked.

‘Yes’ You answered very quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

‘What did I just say?’

‘Yes, Professor, I want your cock.’ You corrected yourself.

Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Professor Shelby tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing member, earning a huffed moan.

‘You like that don’t you,’ he thrusted in and out of your aching mouth. ‘You like the feeling of my cock down your throat.’

You nodded, not being able to speak, but he didn’t like your non verbal communication. He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe.

‘I said, don’t you?’

‘Yes Professor, yes! I love being used for your cock.’ You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you.

You pressed your tongue against his shaft trying to satisfy him. Your cunt was throbbing with lust. After dreaming of Professor Shelby for longer than you should have, you were now taking his cock in what felt like every hole.

‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum were streaming down your face, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his deep-pink lips.

‘Such a nasty whore. Look at you. Pathetic.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking your cock. Maybe this will teach you to not give your professor fuck-me-eyes.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you was so turned on. You needed him. Before you could register, your head was yanked up by your hair.

‘Look at me,’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth, slowly pulling his cock out of your aching mouth.

‘Swallow like the good little girl you are.’ Professor Shelby ordered.

You swallowed his load, which tasted bitter and sweet, with a hint of saltiness. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, showing him that you obeyed.

‘What a good little fuck toy you are.’ He smirked at you before ordering you to lay back on the desk.

‘Do you deserve to cum?’ He asked

‘Please Professor, please let me cum.’ You begged him, ‘I need to cum.’

Professor Shelby laughed, tracing his fingers along his cock. ‘And what will you do if I let you cum?’ He snickered, clearly finding the sight of you amusing.

‘Anything!’ You cried out, realising how bad you needed him.

‘So desperate for me.’ He trailed on. ‘Lets see if I can make an excuse.’

He climbed on top of you and moved to your neck where he started placing wet, sloppy kisses below your earlobe. His tongue drew down to your stomach.

You were speechless. Beginning to become annoyed you breathed out, ‘Just make me cum!’

Immediately regretting your words, your eyes shot wide as he stopped and retrieved his head from your stomach.

‘Watch that filthy little mouth of yours or do I have to fuck it again.’ His thumb swiped over your lips, his bright blue eyes coming in closer. Despite him saying all those dirty words they were spoken more softly than someone would think if you retold this story. It felt nice…good.

Thomas’ lips brushed against yours, soft, yet rough, like you were the air he breathed. You could only focus on how soft he felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all your senses. He kissed you long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin, and the taste of your chapstick that would linger far after you had gone. His lips were soft like butter and his tongue as wet as the pool that started to grow between your legs.

‘Now tell me, what do you want me to do?’ He pulled away from you, watching your eyes trail to his cock.

‘I want you to fuck me.’, You said, not being able to withstand it anymore. ‘I need you.’

‘Of course you want me to, darling.’ He pumped his shaft faster, groaning.

Professor Shelby brushed the tip of his cock against your opening, teasing you. You wanted to roll your eyes and swear at him, but you couldn’t. Instead you bucked your hips forward, trying to give him a better reach.

He grinned, placing his knee between your legs, before thrusting into your core, making you yelp out.

‘Fuck!’ You shakily whispered. That one thrust was able to stretch out your wet cunt.

Your face was held in his hand, making you look at him again.

‘God.’ He whispered. ‘Your moans are the prettiest sounds I have ever heard.’

You moaned in response. He felt too good.

‘All I can think about in class is you. Everything you do drives me crazy.’ He continued to pump in and out of you, moans muffling into his chest. The room filled with the loud slaps of your bodies colliding. ‘Every second you’re not near me I feel myself craving for you’

You grabbed him bis his face and pulled him in for another kiss.

‘You’re so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck, his hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. ‘It’s like you were made to make your cock. Look at you, taking your cock like the good little girl you are.’

Those words felt like fireworks started exploding inside of you.

‘Come on.’ He slapped against your skin. ‘Come.’

You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum.

Professor Shelby slid his cock out of you and stared down at the sight of you.

Panting, you laid on the desk not being able to move.

‘Such a good girl.’ He said, as he slid two fingers up your throbbing cunt, collecting your juices. ‘Taste yourself.’

As he commanded, you opened your mouth, letting the fingers slide into your mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits, sucking off all your cum.

‘Such a pretty girl.’

He pulled away from your exhausted body and walked around the desk.

There you were, laying on his desk. Broken and bruised, just like he wanted. You would lie if this didn’t make you realise your feelings for the Professor.

He walked back in front of you holding a small wet towel. ‘Can you sit up?’ He asked deep and soft.

You placed your hands beside your lower back and tried to prop yourself up but your body was a little too weak.

Professor Shelby noticed and placed one of his hands behind your back and brought you to the edge of the desk.

He took the towel and started to clean around your mouth, collecting a mixture of cum and blood. You held your breath not knowing how to react and because of the stinging pain he had caused. Professor Shelby brought the fabric down to your chest and cunt, wiping up all the excess liquids. Once he was done he grabbed your clothes off the floor and told you to get dressed.

‘It’s late, Miss Granger.’ He said looking at the clock. ‘Be careful on your way back. It’s past 10.’

You nodded quickly gathering your things and walking towards the exit.

‘Good night, Professor.’

‘Until next time.’ Professor Shelby said nonchalantly.

Next time.

You nodded, giving him one last smile before stepping into the hallway. You thought about the experience you just had with him. Your body was certainly sensing it. The man that eye-fucked you at the store turned out to be your teacher, and fucked you he definitely did.

BONUS SCENCE

‘Now, since I’m no longer your teacher, I feel no guilt whatsoever for you to know that I love you more than I ever loved anyone. And I will always love you.’ Thomas’ hand cupped your face, his eyes reflecting his heart’s desire. ‘We will no longer hide. I want to be seen with you. I want to kiss you whenever I want to. Hold your hand whilst we walk through the streets.’

‘I love you,’ you leaned into his shoulder, your grip on his hand growing tighter. ‘I’ll love you until my last breath.’

‘Good,’ he smiled down at you. ‘Because I don’t plan to stop loving you until I cease to exist.’

[gxdsfavgal]

Brotherly

Pairings: Shelby Brothers x reader

Warnings: based on season 5, no canon events, there's no violence in this only bc idk how to write that properly

Request: I would love something with Finn and his brothers like Finn gets hurt and they all get protective ( John still alive ) thank you xx

A/N: ahhh first time writing Peaky Blinders!! this is around 1.4k words

-

-

We weren’t doing anything, just leaned up against a brick wall talking it up. Just Finn, Isaiah, and I. Normal things that we do when we’re not doing shit for Tommy.

That’s when it hit. Brick flying everywhere, dust sticking to our hair and skin. Ours ears ringing. The bright cloudy sky immediately turning dark as my body collapsed.

I look up from the ground where I laid, the building we were leaning against was blown up. My lungs burned as I got up to my hands and knees, my body tingling. I blinked my eyes up at the bright sky.

“Get up! Get up!” I heard muffled.

“Get up!” Isaiah yelled as he pulled me up by my arms, dragging me to the other side of the road.

He sat me down on the floor, holding my shoulders trying to see if I was injured.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked, but my ears were still ringing.

Isaiah did a quick scan of my body, checking my back, my arms, my legs, and more. My mind was running 1000 miles per second, until it wasn't. I had quickly snapped out of it as I was replaying the scene in my mind.

“Where’s Finn?” I was able to say with a coarse throat.

“I-I don’t know.” he looked back at the scene trying to scan the area.

“Did you look for him, Isaiah?” I look up at his face, seeing that he was also covered in stone. He has a gash on his forehead and chin, bleeding down his neck.

“Shit, you’re hurt.” I stood up from the ground, starting to assess his injuries.

“It’s just cuts.” He lowered my hands away from his face. “I don’t know where Finn is.”

Concern was flowing out of him through his tense shoulders and watery eyes.

“Fuck. Okay, go to Tommy. Come back.” I moved past him to look through the rubble as he ran to get Tommy.

“Finn!” I yelled out, standing at the edge of the broken bricks.

I scan the area to see if I can see him. Nothing. Nothing but bricks and wood.

I began to think that he’s dead, wondering what the fuck i’m going to tell the Shelby’s. Started to think about the hell that will be raised if Finn is not found alive.

“There’s a body here!” a elder lady yelled frantically, her weak hands trembled as she began to pull away bricks.

I quickly ran towards her and began pulling the bricks off, revealing a unconscious Finn. His body limp as I couldn’t tell if his chest rose and fell.

“Water! I need water and a towel!”

The lady immediately ran into her home to grab the things I need: water, towels, and vodka. I didn’t even have to ask.

The other civilians watching from afar, gossiping and pointing.

"What the fuck are you all looking at? None of you fucking helped!" I screamed out as I was revealing more and more of his body with each brick taken away.

She handed me the water and towel. I poured the water over him to clean his face, not wanting him to inhale more dust.

I noticed a deep cut on the side of his head, which can even mean brain damage. At this point, I won’t know until he wakes up.

“Where the fuck is he?” I heard a familiar voice yell out into the streets.

“Tommy!” I yelled over my shoulder as I continued to clean up his younger brother.

Tommy, Arthur, and John jogged up towards me with Isaiah following behind.

“Everyone back to your homes!” Arthur advised, everyone obeying quickly.

The streets were quiet with the civilians watching through their windows.

“Fuck, Finn.” Tommy crouched down near me as he rubbed his own face.

"What happened?" Tommy's nose flared.

“I- I don’t know what happened. We didn't do anything." My hands were shaking as I was tending to his younger brother.

Tommy's face was emotionless, it sent more chills around my body. I didn't know what he was thinking about, what he was going to do.

"W- We were just talking a-and then I woke up on the street. Right Isaiah?” I looked up at him as he shared the same hectic look as me.

“You two are fine. Make sure Finn is too.” John spoke up as the two older brothers began to assess the scene.

“Okay, I have to pour Vodka to prevent the wounds from contracting infection.” my face winced at the thought of the feeling.

Isaiah held Finn’s shoulders as I began to pour the alcohol onto the large gash on his head.

A loud and excruciating scream ripped out of Finn’s throat. His body jumping off the ground, legs flying up in the air but thankfully Isaiah held him down.

The brothers quickly ran over from the sound of the scream. Tommy’s face showed how he wanted to calculate and execute this as safely as possible.

“Take him to your house.” Tommy ordered.

“My house?” I yelled out in confusion.

“Your house. Let’s go!” The two other brothers carried Finn to the back of their car with me tending to him while Tommy ordered Isaiah and the others.

The drive was fast, soon enough we were rushing into my family’s kitchen and swiping cups off of our dining table.

“What in God’s name?” my mother yelled as she ran down the stairs from all the ruckus.

“Finn is hurt.” I reassured her.

She immediately grabbed her medical bag from the counter, opening it up to reveal all her tools.

Finn was groaning on the table as she examined his cuts, the adrenaline getting to him.

His eyes blown wide and shaky, his hands trembling.

“You’re in good hands.” I cooed as I cleaned his wounds better for my mother.

“Who did this?” Tommy asked as he leaned against the counter, smoking.

“I don’t know, but I think you guys do.” I looked at him as I crossed my arms.

He silently nodded his head, knowing who he’s pissed off recently.

"The fucking Billy Boys." Arthur mumbled.

"We'll get them for you Finn!" John yelled with a cheer and a smile. "We'll fucking get them!"

Arthur and John is already following behind Tommy as he stormed back into their car, handgun and steering wheel both gripped in his hand.

I didn't know where they were going, but I knew that at least one man was going to die. God knows that it wasn't any of the Shelby boys. Polly made sure God was on her side.

Finn seemed like he was going into shock with the way his jaw clenched and his eyes shaky. I'm holding him down as my mother picks away debris from the open flesh on his head.

"Are you hurt?" My mother whispered as she kept a steady hand.

"I don't think so." I said but got a stern look from her. "No. No, I'm not hurt."

She quickly nodded and went back to tending to Finn.

"You shouldn't h- you shouldn't have been there." Finn was able to speak out through his clenched teeth.

"I'm a Peaky Blinder." I shook my head side to side as I threaded the needle for my mother.

She scoffed from the side. We all knew that's how my father died, being a Blinder. She didn't want me to follow behind him.

"This is going to hurt." she told Finn as she waved the needle in front of his eyes.

I grabbed a kitchen rag and stuffed it between his jaws, hooping that it will muffle his screams.

My mom and I nodded to each other as I held Finns arms down.

The sharp metal pierced his skin over and over, his groans and screams barely muffled by the piece of cloth I lended.

It was quickly over. We splashed some vodka on it and even gave the bottle to Finn so he can nurse it. We bandaged him up and check for any other injuries on him.

Finn rested on the couch, his body tired from the amount of adrenaline that rushed through him.

While my mother and I was cleaning up, the Shelby brothers strutted through our front door.

There the three were, covered in blood but none of them hurt. It truly was a miracle every time.

"He's all patched up." My mother spoke up, eyeing the floor and her furniture to see if they've made any stains.

"Thank you." Tommy reached into his pocket, taking out a large wad of cash and handing it to me.

"Oh no, I cannot accept." I pushed his hand away.

"You put Finn first even when you were in the accident too." he held out the money again.

"For God's sake." My mother walked her way over in front of me. "I accept."

She took the money with a smile and went back to cleaning.

"What'd you all do?" Finn groaned out as he slowly walked from the living room to the kitchen where we all stood.

"Left a little message for Jimmy McCavern." Arthur chuckled out as he held out a bullet to Finn.

Finn was too weak to grab it, so he nodded for me to get it for him. I spun the bullet in my palm, examining each and every crevice.

"McCavern." I whispered out as my thumb slid over the engraving.

"Do I get the shot?" Finns eyes shot up to Tommy.

Tommy silently nodded with the side of his mouth slightly curled up.

"You get to shoot him in between his fucking eyes." John said nonchalantly.

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part Three Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing, slight sexual activity

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

Your interactions with Tommy lessened over the next few weeks and it felt ridiculous to say that you were hurt because nothing had happened but it still saddened you. You wanted nothing more than for Tommy to touch your hand again, have those private talks with him that made you feel closer to anyone than you ever had before. More recently he'd been getting closer to the new barmaid at the Garrison and it gave you a pang in your chest everytime the Shelby boys joked about the two of them getting with one another. But Tommy owed you nothing so you couldn't exactly be angry, you just had to laugh along with the jokes and not put yourself in a situation where the two of you were alone.

One day where you and the boys were in the side room at the Garrison, Grace came in with a bottle of whiskey and a tray of glasses for you all. As she placed them down Tommy was staring up at her and she glanced at him with a smile. You felt your breath get caught in your chest and you had to reach out for the whisky to distract yourself. You poured yourself what looked like a triple and drank it quicker than you expected.

"Jesus, Eddie. What's up with you?" John asked with a laugh.

"It's just good whisky, gotta get it all down just like your dick when you try to fuck anyone." You retorted with a laugh and John playfully pushed you.

"Oh God, Tom the children are fighting!" Arthur exclaimed and Tommy looked down and smiled.

"It's not as if we are arguing any more than we have before," you nodded towards John and he turned up his nose.

"Only because you're a little argumentative shit." John yelled and you laughed. Tommy's expression was unreadable and you just wanted to ask him what was wrong but you couldn't do that and pretend it was normal.

"Whens your meeting with Kimber, Tom?" Arthur asked.

"Today, I thought it would be best if you were surprised by it because fuck me he's going to surprise us." Tommy commented and as if on cue there was a gunshot and someone yelling about the name Shelby.

"I'll be off then," you snickered and John rolled his eyes.

"No, stay in here. Just in case." Tommy said quietly and you sat back down with a puzzled expression. As the brothers walked out you struck a match and lit your cigarette, what was Thomas planning with Kimber that he wanted you to know? You started to read the paper to keep yourself busy for a bit but it wasn't striking you as that interesting. The reading was to distract your brain from straying too much but you couldn't help it. All you could think about was Tommy and the way he looked at you and then the way he looked at Grace. It was so hard to decide which was better or in which instance he seemed more genuine. Could Tommy even consider having feelings towards you that warranted anything more than friendship? You wanted to be something with him, you didn't know what but you knew that seeing him with Grace always upset you more than it should.

"He's gone," Tommy said as he came back into the room on his own. You hadn't realized how long it had been and as you rose to walk out Tommy looked at you with a gaze that made you sit.

"How was it?" You asked.

"Beneficial, I think so anyways. Everyone else has cleared out, just us now." Tommy took out a cigarette.

"Not asking Grace for another drink?" You asked trying not to sound jealous but you didn't think that you hid your feelings very well.

"Grace? Why are you asking about her?" Tommy looked at you quizzically.

"No reason, I just assumed you might not want another whisky," you stumbled over your words and looked down, leaning your hands against the edge of the table you braced yourself to have to speak out of your arse in lies.

"Whiskey is fine." Tommy commented and you nodded.

"Right, I think I should be off." You looked at Tommy and be furrowed his brow.

"Why's that then?"

"I- there's just some things I need to get done and I-"

"That's a lie isn't it?" Tommy asked and your cheeks went slightly pink.

"What is it to you?" You looked down at the table and took your cap off, ruffling your hair you sighed.

"Y/n, you're being childish."

"Don't call me that here. She might hear you." You scolded Tommy and he looked surprised at your outburst.

"Barmaids don't count." Tommy school his head and took a drag.

"Is that your philosophy for your bedroom as well, Thomas?" You asked in a sudden burst of confidence you weren't expecting.

"So now you want to know about my activity in my bedroom?" He raised and eyebrow and you sighed.

"No, Thomas. I don't." You answered with a scowl on your face.

"Yeah, I can tell that from how pissed off you look." Tommy seemed to roll his eyes and your jaw tensed.

"Is there anything you need from me?" You asked, still looking down.

"I want to know why you want to leave this room so badly."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm wasting my time here when I could do something Tommy." You didn't know why you were so openly angry towards him, he had acted so differently towards you a whole ago and now he was so cold.

"Leave then." Tommy didn't look at you when you stood up to leave, you walked out of there as quickly as you could.

Tommy didn't expect it, he didn't know you could act with such anger directed toward him. He knew he hadn't been around you so much, it was because he couldn't trust himself around you and it was almost ridiculous. Tommy was acting like a teenager in his methods of avoidance and even though he knew it was stupid he couldn't be honest with you because what if you didnt feel toward him the same he did towards you? Tommy had begun this pathetic flirting towards Grace to redirect his sexual and romantic energy so no one would get suspicious but the fact it had made you angry tod him more. Did this mean you were jealous? Did you want more than what you currently were to one another? Tommy couldn't decipher your outburst but fuck, someone who was neutral towards him wouldn't react like that towards him.

You were so angry at yourself, you were so angry at Tommy and you couldn't decide which was a stronger feeling. Either way you were fucking reeling with anger and you needed to get home before you got into a fight. The moment you closed your front door, you leant against it and closed your eyes with a deep sigh. How the fuck had you allowed a Shelby impacted you emotionally? It felt like if Tommy ever called you'd be there without even a thought and what did that say about your willpower or your self worth. Ignoring your problems was a lot easier than addressing them especially considering it didn't seem like Tommy would be addressing them any time soon. Turning toward the hall wall you punched it, out of frustration and anger, you were so fucking pissed off you couldn't control your emotions. After all this work, all this fucking effort toward creating a life and a lifestyle to yourself was going to disintegrate because of a man and you couldn't take it. You swore under your breath and held your hand gently.

You headed upstairs and drew a bath to try and relax yourself from the ridiculous amount of stress coursing through your veins that threatened to burst out at any point. As you lay in the steaming water you tried to breath regularly but it wasn't working and you just got frustrated with yourself because Tommy was making you so fucking angry. You looked at your knuckles that were still slightly bleeding. How dare he have such an impact on you when you weren't anything to each other.

You didn't remember falling asleep or getting into bed but there you were. You'd put on a chemise top under your shirt and boxers to try and normalise it for you. The silk felt so comfortable against your chest, you were so used to bandages and scratchy shirts that having this sort of relief was unfamiliar. Relaxing into the bed you were falling into a deep sleep when you were awoken by a knock at the door. What you weren't expecting was to open your door and find Thomas there.

The moment you opened the door Thomas had pushed you back against the wall and was kissing your neck hurriedly. You moaned into his touch as he ran his hands up and down your body and cupped your breasts. When you sat up in your bed, sweating and wet you really wanted to punch yourself in the face for having such stupid fucking fantasies. You were angry again after having a blissful few hours without it that you almost didn't hear the repeated knocking on your front door. Looking out your window you saw Tommy and cursed under your breath as your stomach felt warm. You ran down the stairs and opened the door with a scowl.

"What do you want?" You asked, not allowing Tommy in when he went to walk past you.

"Really? This again?" Tommy sounded exasperated and you rolled your eyes before letting him in.

"But really, what do you want? It's late, Thomas." You sat down on your sofa and Tommy joined you in the same familiar positions you knew so we'll.

"I wanted to talk to you, just normally about nothing really I-"

"You're seriously telling me that you'd rather be here with me, in the middle of the night shit talking, than have someone warming your bed? You could take anyone and just entertain yourself for the evening if you wanted and it would be more fun than this. I could talk to Grace if you can't muster up the courage." You smirked at him and this time Tommy rolled his eyes.

"So you really want me to fuck Grace is what I'm getting from this conversation?" He looked at you with a 'shit eating' grin.

"You wish I was that obvious."

"Yes I do, woman. You're so bloody confusing most of the time I have no fucking idea what you want." Tommy rubbed his forehead and stood up, he went over to the radio and turned it on where a soft classical piece was playing.

"I'm a lot easier to talk to when you don't pretend like you want to speak to me when really you just want a distraction." You tucked your legs under your body and placed your hands on your lap.

"Well look, I apologise for stopping," he gestured between the two of you as he sat down closer than last time "whatever this is."

"Why did you act like we were getting close and saying you felt comfortable around me and then just not come back again?" You asked, looking down.

"I was worried you'd think I was being too familiar with the way we were speaking or I'd lose your trust." Tommy explained and it rang false to you but you decided to not press him any further.

"Tea?" You asked and he gave you a look "whisky then." You smirked and went to your side cabinet to grab a not so brilliant quality whiskey with two glasses. You filled them up and sat down on the armchair that was in front of Tommy rather than the side and he seemed offended at the change in position. You believed having space between you would be healthier so nothing like last time happened. If you couldn't explore whatever this was between you and Tommy wanted to put a stop to these emotions.

"Cheers to bad communication," Tommy raised his glass and looked at you with an amused expression.

"Cheers to that." You said back, looking back into Tommy's eyes and then quickly looking down when he held your gaze.

Sitting back in the armchair you were diverting your gaze to anywhere away from Tommy because you didn't want to see the impossible to read expression on his face. There was no way Tommy could know how much you cared about him and how much you wanted to feel his touch on your hand again but knew it shouldn't happen again. No, it wouldn't happen again. Tommy was destined for Grace or someone easier to understand. Keeping distance between you was a safety net because if you touched again you didn't know if you could control the feelings you had and you still wanted to have a good friendship with Tommy.

"Come here," Tommy said looking at your face but you wouldn't look up. "Come here." Tommy repeated in a lower tone that made you form goosebumps, he looked down from your chin to your chest as your shirt opened and revealed the chemise underneath. His tone sounded pleading but rough and your stomach tightened at the thought that he might want to kiss you. Why were you reacting like this?

"What is it, Tom?" You asked, still looking down.

"Your hand," he replied and you looked up at him with sad eyes "what happened?" He asked.

"Oh, it's um… it's nothing." You muttered pressing further back into the armchair.

"It is," Tommy suddenly reached forward and held your wrist in a strong grip, it made you drop your glass with a gasp.

"What are you doing?" You exclaimed trying to pull away your arm but Tommy was stronger and you gave up.

"What happened?" He asked holding your fingers out flat with his other hand to look at your knuckles.

"I slipped and- and banged it on the side of the bath." You stuttered over your words and Tommy narrowed his eyes.

"Well I know that isn't true, have you disinfected it?" He asked.

"I don't think so," his touch was making your chest grow warm, rough hands against your calloused ones made you want to hold yourself and smile. Your face looked terrified and Tommy loved the feeling it was enticing in him. He was holding your hand and examining your knuckles for a lot longer than he needed too but to touch you felt so good he didn't want to imagine it would end.

"Where's your vodka?" Tommy asked and you nodded to the cabinet behind the armchair.

As Tommy stood up he let go of your hand and you let out a breath that you felt like you'd been holding in, you closed your eyes for a few seconds and focussed on your breathing. What the fuck was he doing touching you so much? You were already frustrated and you didn't know how to deal with his avoidance of his behaviour.

"What did you do to your hand, y/n?" Tommy asked as he sat down with the vodka and a clean cloth.

"Why do you care so much?" You asked, looking at him with a frown.

"I'm just asking a question, why are you so fucking angry?" He asked, pouring some vodka on the cloth.

"I'm not angry I'm just AH-" Tommy pressed the vodka soaked cloth onto your knuckles "you fucking arsehole, I just don't know what's going on with us okay!" You yelled

"So that's what it is." Tommy raised an eyebrow as he dabbed your knuckles again.

"Don't do that Tommy," you sighed.

"And what would that be?" Tommy asked.

"Pretending that you don't know what's going on with us, like there's this weird fucking energy." You winced slightly.

"What if I also don't know what's going on?" Tommy asked looking deep into your eyes.

"I-..." You paused, getting distracted at the feeling of his hands again "I don't know, Tommy. All I do know is that I can't deal with all of it, nothings going to happen and nothing can happen between us so I don't know how to act."

"You sound very sure." Tommy softened his expression and you sighed.

"But that's the thing, I'm not sure of anything at the moment." You looked down with a sad expression and then saw Tommy's hand move, he touched your cheek. Almost automatically you leaned into his touch but didn't move your eyeline out of fear of what emotion his eyes would display.

"Look at me," Tommy whispered and you looked up "I don't know what we're doing, but being here with you makes the banging on the wall silent."

"What does that mean?" You asked looking deeply into his sky blue eyes that made you melt under his touch.

"When we were in France it was all we would hear, all we would try to hear and now whenever I sleep, or think or talk it's all I can hear until it's only me and you." Tommy sighed.

"But why? I don't do anything special." You answered with a furrowed brow.

"I don't know, I can't explain it but every fucking time I'm here with you or just alone with you I can't think about anything else other than you and…" he trailed off and you couldn't help but let your heart race "and I can't get that feeling any other way, it's like I need you."

"I think about you, a lot more than I would like to admit." Your gaze flicked between the floor and his eyes because you didn't know how he would react and when he removed his hand from your face your stomach dropped. But then he reached forward and you closed your eyes as he kissed your cheek.

"You're special to me, y/n. And I can't quite explain it to you." Tommy said as he held your hand in his and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"You're special to me too, Tommy. But I don't think we can do anything more than this." You said sadly.

"I want to keep talking to you and seeing you even if I want something more I can't lose these interactions with you." Tommy seemed nervous, anxious even and you didn't know how to deal with the fact that you could be having this impact on him.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

next part

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[call-sign-shark]

Bottle In the Sea || Peaky Blinders Writers

Dear mutuals from the Peaky Blinders fandom,

While I was working on my MA thesis and seeing the end of it, I was thinking about the free time I'll have by the end of next week once I'll hand my work back to my tutor. That's how I came up with the following idea:

As a fellow writer, I know the feeling when someone reads and comments on your work. Since I'll have more time for myself, I'd love to use a bit of that time to shower you with support by reading and commenting on your lovely works. All you have to do is submit one of your work/series you want me to review. Anyone can participate in the fandom, whether I know you or don't.

Here is how to apply:

➣ Reblog this post

➣ In your reblog, please add the Title of the work, the number of chapters, and a direct link to the said work. Not your masterlist.

➣ Add a little pic with a shark on it. For the fun.

What can you submit:

It can be a xReader or a xOC, I don't care. All PB characters. Just note that I won't read: Cillian work (I'm talking about the actor, not Thomas Shelby). I also won't read Arthur x OC 'cause I don't want anyone to think I take inspiration from their work for my current or upcoming series with him.

Consider this a little bottle thrown in the sea. You catch it, write the title of your work on the paper, and throw it back! :)

Notes: By participating you agree with being patient and not rushing me. Especially if your series has more than ten chapters with +2000 words each.

If you're looking for something to read, why not take a look at my series Heaven in Your Eyes? [Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC]. Be careful, it's a +18 story.

[crowwritesaway]

Thomas Shelby Best Friend XVII

Zoey stood outside of Grace’s house. She inhaled and exhaled the smoke of the cigarette.

She glanced around her. Seems lonely. Not much people around here.

She flicked what was left of the cigarette. She knocked on the door. No one answered.

Hmm…where could she be?

Fuck it. Zoey opened the door with a pin.

Zoey entered Graces house. She glanced around. Hmmm…not much to look at.

She clicked her tongue. Can’t turn on the light, that would give me away.

She sighed. She stopped in front of a table. Papers were scattered all over.

She picked up a paper and frowned when she noticed that it was about her.

“This…this little…” Zoey angrily mumbled to herself.

Zoey’s head snapped up when she heard keys. Great, just fucking great.

Grace stood outside with Thomas. She had helped him escape.

Zoey put the paper back on the table. She looked around and hid when she heard the door open.

Thomas and Grace entered her home. Zoey hid behind a couch. Not much room to hide. She swiftly unlatched her razor, Kindness. She gripped it tightly. I’ll just finish her off. No point in talking.

“Would you like some tea.” Grace asked Thomas.

Zoey rolled her eyes. Of course, nothing is ever easy when it comes to Grace. She’s always up to something.

“Yeah, tea is fine.” Thomas replied, sitting down on the couch.

Zoey held herself back from making any movement. Thomas, Thomas…Thomas. You fucking dimwit.

Thomas looked around. Can’t stay here for too long.

“Would you like sugar?” Grace shouted from her kitchen.

“S’fine” Thomas replied, shaking his head. She seems happy.

Thomas looked at the table in front of him. He sat toward at the edge of the couch. Is…is that Zoey?

Zoey balled up her fists. He sat there while I’m hiding like some rat.

Zoey lost her balance for a second. She froze. Shit.

Thomas head snapped at the corner of the couch. He stood up, putting a hand on his gun.

He slowly walked over. Zoey knew Thomas would discover her. He’s as paranoid as me.

Zoey waved at Thomas. Thomas looked at her and put his gun away.

“You know, this wasn’t exactly written in my plan.” Zoey whispered to him.

Thomas shook his head. For fuck sake.

“Would you like some biscuits?” Grace shouted.

“Biscuits are fine!” Thomas shouted back.

“I need you to sneak out while I distract her.” Thomas whispered to Zoey.

Zoey angrily shook her head and lowly said, “And then what…wait until Grace clears up her schedule?”

Thomas crouched in front of Zoey. “Someone could have seen me and Grace. They’ll connect us.”

“So we’ll kill them off” Zoey suggested.

“You know what never mind. You deal with her.” Zoey said, cutting off Thomas.

Thomas frowned. Why does it feel like a goodbye?

Zoey stood up and as she went to leave. Grace came out from the kitchen, carrying the cups of tea and the biscuits.

“I took long but I promise it’ll be worth it.” Grace flirted.

She turned to look at Thomas and froze when she saw Zoey. What…what is she doing here?

Zoey smiled at Grace. She tilted her head as she waved at her. I can’t kill her but I can scare her.

“Hi. When did you get in here?” Grace managed to say.

“Hi. Just stopped by to pick up my things.” Zoey sarcastically said, going up to the table and picking up the papers that had God knows what information on her.

Grace eyes went wide. No…no…no. She’s gonna kill me.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” Zoey coldly said to Grace. She turned to Thomas and said, “Enjoy your tea. Bye.”

“Wait. Those..” Grace said, trying to get Zoey’s attention.

Zoey glanced back at her and mockingly asked as she lifted the papers, “What, these…these papers are mine. You go report to whoever gave them to you that I wish them a good night sleep.” Zoey said good night sleep implying that she would make sure that whoever it was would not see the light of day and a promise to seal their mouth.

“No, those belong to me.” Grace said, looking between Zoey and Thomas. She glanced at Thomas, pleading with her eyes.

Thomas sighed and as he went to tell Zoey something. Zoey quickly kissed him on the mouth and playfully said, “Mmhmm, I gotta go. See you at home.” Thomas froze. She kissed me.

“And Grace, such a lovely name. Although I don’t feel graced by your presence. Save your breathe, you’re gonna need it for why I have planned for you. And Tommy, you can only eat my biscuits.” Zoey snapped at Grace.

Thomas licked his lips as his mind went wild. She drives me mad. And not in a bad way. She demands and I obey. Ugh, I can’t wait to make her my wife.

Thomas sighed as he watched her leave. She’s gonna be mine. She’s already mine.

“Thomas.” Grace mumbled. She needed him on her side.

“It’s Mr. Shelby.” Thomas said, pulling out a cigarette to smoke. He inhaled and exhaled the smoke.

“Uhh, Mr. Shelby. Can you please get Zoey to give me those papers?” Grace asked him, trying to appear fragile.

“What’s written on those papers? Thomas asked as he smoked.

“Uh, nothing important.” Grace stuttered.

Thomas shook his head and sighed, “My Zoey takes what’s hers. If she found something she knows that’s belongs to her, she takes it. No matter who is hurt or who is in the way. I suggest you leave the matter alone.”

“I-“ Grace began. “Enough!” Thomas snapped.

“I’m leaving. I’d rather take my chances at getting caught than staying here…with you” Thomas said, making it clear that Grace had no place in his heart.

Thomas left. Grace sat on her couch and screamed. She’s gonna pay. This is all her fault. After all, that copper on her side knows more on her and he’s on our side.

Zoey was reading the papers. She frowned as she read, “Zoey Rojo born to immigrant parents from Central America. Has a twin brother and two older siblings. Was in a relationship with Jade. Suspected to have served in the war. Meets from time to time with a copper in a different locations to plan out suspected criminal activity. Is second in command in the peaky blinders.”

Zoey nodded to herself as she thought. The only person who knows of this is that bloody copper. Who else would know? Idiot. He sold himself away to the enemy for what…he can’t escape me. He will pay. I need to arrange my family a vacation. They’ll probably go after them.

Stay around for more of Thomas Shelby Best Friend

[prettygreenpills]

A daughter I didn´t have - P. G.

characters: Polly Gray x fem!reader 

run down: you are Tommy´s friend and your parents died when you were young. Polly is taking care of you and you ask her why is she doing it for you

warnings: sensitive topics!

request status: closed

You opened the doors of the house where the woman who was taking care of you lived. Together with you. From the scent you could tell she was baking something and that made the corners of your mouth curl up a little.

The scent of the food she was making for you filled your nose and you took another deeper breath. Smiling for yourself, you put down your handbag.

As the woman heard the doors behind you close, you heard her put down something what she was holding in her hands. Smiling a little, you knew that she was making her way to you and you just waited.

“Hello,” Polly greeted you and she stopped at the doors which were between the hall you just entered and the kitchen.

“Hi,” you said back and smiled a little. “You are cooking?” Listening to the scents which were filling the house you could guess it was some meat. Polly just nodded her head and wiped her hands in the apron she had tied around her hips.

“How was the horse ride with Thomas?” She asked you only and took out only one plate. For you. Then she placed a full plate of food onto the table and sat down, waiting for you to join her.

“It was alright,” you told her, not knowing what more to say. You were really close to her but somehow… you just couldn’t be that happy and full of joy anymore.

“That’s good,” Polly answered you and you took the cutlery. Not looking up at the brown haired woman, you started eating in silence and it didn’t bother you. You were kind of relieved she didn’t ask you more questions because you were a little exhausted and didn’t want to talk.

Eating the food slowly, you took few breaths. Weird questions started filling your mind and you started to furrow your eyebrows a little when the questions started to slide onto your tongue, ready to fly out of your mouth.

At first you just swallowed them along with the food and didn’t let them bother you. But when the questions started attacking your mind even more, you let out a quiet sigh and placed the cutlery down.

“Polly?”

“Yes?” She asked you back immediately, her brown eyes staring at you at that moment. You knew that you could tell her anything and ask her anything, but somehow, the topic you wanted to talk about was hard to start.

“I know that I am Tommy’s friend and everything… but I have been thinking a lot lately,” you said in a quiet voice and looked up at Polly. She was watching you with her brown eyes full of understatement and a little smile was playing with her lips. “I have been thinking about that, why did you take me in? Why did you decide to help me at the beginning when I was just a stranger for you?” You asked her and watched as she swallowed.

“You remember the first time when I met you?”

“You mean the moment when I walked into your house with Thomas and you aimed your gun at me?” You tried to make the moment you were taking about clear. The woman smiled even more and then shook her head.

“Okay, then maybe the second,” she admitted and you didn’t know what she was talking about. “When you went through what you went through, I mean the shot and everything,” she said and you nodded your head.

“I remember…”

“When I saw your shirt from blood… for a second I saw my daughter in you,” she said and the confession surprised you.

“Your daughter?”

“I saw my daughter I didn’t have in you. My daughter i haven’t met. My daughter I have been crying about every single night since I lost her,” she said and you breathed out, not sure if you took a breath after.

“I am sorry-“

“I saw her in you. A person I could care for. A girl who needed someone to be by her side. And since I lost her, I saw an opportunity to become someone close to you,” she went on, already avoiding the eye contact.

“You- you see me as your daughter?” You asked her whispering. When you saw that Polly’s eyes were glistening even more then before, you bit on your lower lip. You reached your hands out through the table and took Polly’s hands, softly running your fingers over her knuckles.

The woman wasn’t used to that. Her eye’s immediately ended on your hands and you felt her trying to pull away. But then she decided to let you hold her hands and looked up at you.

“I am glad you were the one who did this for me,” you told her, your voice soft and quiet. Polly was watching you without any answer to your little note. She just kept tearing up even more than she had before. “I am sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be,” she said and pulled away to brush her tears away. Then she shook her head and stood up from the table and you knew that her intention was to calm down.

You wanted to give her some space, some privacy. But you hated to see her like this. Standing up and following her, you hugged Polly really tightly once you reached her and rested your chin on her shoulder.

“Thank you Pol,” you whispered and watched the tiles of the kitchen wall behind Polly’s back. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome Y/n,” she said back and then she pulled away, wiping away the rest of her tears. Realizing that you were crying as well, she gently brushed your cheek and smiled at you.

And you know that this woman, even if she wasn’t your biological mother, was someone, who cared for you without faking it. Her heart was made of gold, but only for the family members. She had carried lot of weight on her shoulders already.

You gifted her with a little smile and Polly gave it back. And since that moment, you knew that you had a family. Even if it was just her and you. Or her, you and her son Michael.

[riridontneedya]

Help a gal out! 

I have a new rather spicy Peaky blinders smut Fic I plan on uploading tomorrow, however for some reason for the life of me I can't think of what to bloody name it!!! I've racked my brain for ages! It shouldn't be this hard ! Anyway please give me some suggestions it would be gratefully appreciated lol

Thank you xoxox

[warnersister]

“Tea in the Cotswolds” Michael Gray x Reader

Michael Gray x Reader

When Thomas has business with Archibald Wentworth, a prestigious delegate in the Cotswolds, Michael is tasked with occupying the man’s adult daughter - getting more acquainted than expected.

The Blinders had expanded their business - all the way to the Cotswolds, Tommy had taken John and Michael for the ride; leaving Arthur back in Birmingham as he didn’t find this the right environment for any sort of negative articulation to be breaking out; especially at Wentworth Family Manor.

The houses became progressively larger as the carriage rolled down the cobbled street, some with drives too large to be able to see the house it belonged to at all. But eventually, the vehicle came to a stop at the looming house; substantially larger than all others. In his head, the only similar build Michael had seen to this was Buckingham Palace - large and awe-inspiring enough to be the encasings to a proud museum, contents sacred and protected.

But potentially Michael’s imagination wasn’t too far from reality.

“Right,” Tommy began, eyes flicking between the two men whom had accompanied him. “Today is a very important meeting. And i need to leave a good impression on the Wentworth’s. So we leave our egos and our guns in the car.” John’s brows creased in confusion. “Leave our guns?” “They’re not dangerous. This is legal business; real estate - dabbling a bit in the illegal side of things but not enough go start a fight. Mr Wentworth is an extremely prestigious man, as is his wife and daughter.” He told them calmly. “I’ll talk with Mr Wentworth, John you’ll talk with his missus and explain what we do: nicely. Michael - I’ll leave you to get acquainted with his daughter, yn.” “You’re leaving me with the child?” He asked, confused. “Yn is twenty.”

They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

[pherelesytsia]

Love is sweeter than vengeance

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Burglars break into the mansion in search of the safe and stumble upon the lady of the house.

Warning: Crimson, Guns, Insults, Fight

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n:. Requests are open!!!

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

The cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Yelling and cursing, sailors lost in the eye of the storm, the creature, once a man, forced Y/N up the stairs to her husband's office. Y/N whimpered, whispered a prayer, had never been religious, was thankful that the children were not there, that she was alone, that everyone had gone to town when the sun kissed the horizon.

Everything her husband, his brothers and sisters had taught her was gone with the wind and the woman begging for mercy desperately tried to remember the forgotten, but she failed miserably.

Y/N stumbled, nearly fell, but the hand resting upon her skin as if he was her husband forced her to move. Tears clouded her vision. She reached for the banister, for halt and support, tried to flee from the shabby creature, the shadow of a man, with a stained shirt, hunched belly and hollow eyes, reeking of cheap alcohol. Claws, uncut yellow stained nails painted by dried mud dug into her delicate flesh, turning darker under the force.

            "Go! Fuck. Walk!" the man shouted into her ear.

The intruders had not searched the rooms of the house, her place of retreat, knowing no one was in the building apart from the woman they needed to find the treasure hidden in the walls of the mansion. The filthy figure cast his gaze over his shoulder, stared at the foot of the staircase, at the men looking like they had crawled out of a hole in the ground, working at the docks and stealing goods from ships caring golden liquor across the seven seas.

            "Men stay down here. Guard the door," he shouted.

The voice sent a chill down her spine.

            "And then, I hope there's time enough. We'll have some fun. That's the bedroom back there, but the table will do for me. Your husband will find the remains of our night. He will think you were unfaithful, took his money and fucking fled. I will sell you. Quite a beauty." the intruder hissed in her ear.

Particles of his spit hit her cheek.

            "Where is the safe?", "I don't know." Y/N breathed.

Her voice, breaking and shattering, fragile glass, elicited a laugh from the man.

            "Do you think I'm stupid? We've been watching you. Go to his office, I know the safe is there." he yelled.

He opened the door, dragged her away and threw Y/N into the office, flooded by the light of the wandering sun. Whimpering, she dropped to the floor, filled her lungs with air and begged for mercy.

            "Faster, woman!" the man with a hunched belly yelled.

Gasping, Y/N arose, held onto the wall, stumbled away and stopped in front of the painting, reminding her of a lovely summer's night in the arms of her husband and put it away. Cursing, Y/N tried to remember the numbers, couldn't believe she couldn't remember the combination and realised her husband had never told her the code for the safe. She had never asked for it and when she needed money, she asked. The once-ironed blouse crumpled under his grip and he shoved her close to the safe.

            "The numbers.", "I don't know." Y/N stammered, staring at the numbers.

His fingers tapped against the wood, had expected more from the Shelby, had prepared for a fight, bullets and fists but the moment they had stormed into the house Y/N had turned into a flower withering in the cold, hiding behind the sofa and trying to escape out of the broken window.

            "Your birthday?" she spun the wheel but no click that would bring a smile to his lips resounded through the house.

            "Children? His birthday?", "We don't have any. He would choose his birthday." Y/N breathed.

Screams mingled with curses. Men jumped out of the house, aiming at the cars and fled in fear across the field, away from the fallen and the tree men cloaked in pure doom. Silence returned. The chilly wind invaded the house like an army, bloodied barbarians wielding double-edged swords and shields. Grinning, the intruder turned, pressed the woman closer to his belly and Y/N felt him laugh before the first sound could overtake his plum lips. Slowly he turned, using her like a shield, knowing he was protected in her mere presence.

Stairs screamed; tortured souls announced his arrival. Thomas took two at once. He ignored his brothers staring at the corpses in front of the house, was deaf to their words. The deep laughter beckoned him like a siren and told him a tale of blood and tears. The polished pistol reflected the candlelight. The colour drained from his features. Flames, blazing and destructive, sparked in his gaze, but he did not raise the pistol, pointing it at the floor right next to his polished shoes. The apron was the first thing Thomas noticed. Flour stained the emerald skirt. Thomas guessed what had happened, knew the men had overpowered her as she baked. He remembered what his wife told him as he brushed her hair the night before, that she had found a recipe after the children told her they would like to eat a chocolate cake. The pungent stench of copper and the unforgettable smell of gunpowder were laying heavy in the air.

             "Thomas Shelby, I'm glad you and your brothers finally made it to us. It took you a long time." grinned the scruffy figure.

Thomas clenched his hand into a fist and clutched the pistol tighter, aiming straight for the head, wouldn't miss, might shoot straight into his arm and then slowly drive a dagger through the skin and his thirst wouldn't be satisfied until the intruders begged for the sweet death.

Thomas smiled at his wife, faint and barely recognisable but Y/N saw it and it helped, soothed the throbbing pain in her head and banned the fear haunting her heart, a smile telling her everything would be all right but then the cold metal rammed deeper into her skin and the banished returned.

The eyes, once bright and clear, the eyes she fell head over heels in love with turned as cold as a bleak winter night. Blood painted his fingers, dotted the white button down she had ironed in the early hours when she realised her husband had no ironed buttons downs and Y/N knew the men appointed to guard the front door were lying with dull eyes facing the sky on the cold stony ground.

            "You need the code?" sarcastically Thomas chuckled, leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes spoke volumes, promising her all that could not pass his lips, all the words that did not suit him, the words that only the woman who wore the ring similar to his could hear, but Thomas knew that the man would not see the beauty of the red sky lit by gold ever again.

            "Let her go.", "Do you think I'm that stupid?" he echoed, pulled Y/N closer and moved away.

            "She's my ticket out," he added, knowing he had the upper hand.

With the raised gun, he gestured to Thomas to go to the safe. Chuckling, Thomas pushed himself off the wall, shrugged his shoulders and walked away, relaxed and unaffected, pointing to the closed safe with a raised brow.

            "You want me to open the safe?" the Shelby hitched with amusement.

            "Go ahead, fill the bag with money and bring it to me. Put the gun away or her brain will paint the wall.", "Easy, no problem." Thomas calmed the once pale man.

Again, the Shelby chuckled, put the gun on the floor and took the fallen bag.

            "You and your men were making a mess downstairs; you didn't have to put holes in the walls and furniture," Thomas spoke.

The man laughed in satisfaction, delighted by the words. Thomas turned and walked backwards with his hand in the pocket of his trousers.

            "We are civilised, after all. Shots in the air, this isn't America, the Wild West." he continued.

Thomas turned his back on the man, unfearful of the gun, and calmly and with an uncharacteristic composure filled the bag, feeling it grow heavier with each stack of notes.

            "I'm the only one who shot. Not my men. You forgot the family picture. I did extra on that." the man beamed.

            "My wife didn't tell you the combination?" Thomas questioned.

            "She's dumber than we thought. We stormed in here. She was crying. I was hoping we'd still have some fun with her later. Shouldn't you be in London? A little birdie told us. The birdie was your wife. We called her, pretending we were your colleagues you were meeting at the harbour, and she apologised, saying you were on your way to London. But we can have fun and you can watch. What do you think about that?" the man chuckled.

Y/N whispered an apology.

            "I was on my way to London," Thomas assured, laughing at the poor choice of words.

With his back still turned to his wife, Thomas pointed to the bag resting beside his desk, the black leather briefcase Y/N had given him for Christmas.

            "I forgot my briefcase. There are important documents." closing the bag, Thomas turned on the spot.

He lifted the bag so the man could examine the heaviness, and the intruder grinned in approval.

            "You will get your wife. I will get into the car. You will go first, lock your brothers in the cellar, and then follow us. I will drive away and I will leave your wife here. Do you understand me?" the man hissed, commanding like a king, imperious and cold, and Thomas nodded wordlessly.

Whimpering, Y/N looked at her husband. The gun was aimed directly at him, at his chest, calculated to hit the heart. Thomas´ eyes softened, looked down at Y/N and smiled.

            "Let her go. I am not armed. Check, if you want. You can kill me whenever you like. I will go first and lock my brothers away as you wish." Thomas spoke firmly.

The man seemed to think about it and refused.

            "Here, take it. It should be enough. We should hurry. Night is coming." the Shelby spoke.

Thomas held out the bag, and reluctantly, the intruder took it. Screaming, Y/N tried to free herself from the grip, wanting to jump between the bullet and her husband. The façade fell. The grin widened. A scream filled the room. Hands clawed into his throat. Shocked, the shabby figure let go of the bag. Craws crowed. Y/N slipped from the grip. Hastily she searched for the entry wound, but no crimson escaped her lover's body and the wicked grin gracing his sharp features bore no sign of pain.

            "Love, go away from him," Thomas spoke sweetly and kicked the bag away.

Notes and gold painted the floor, disappeared under the table and blanketed the carpet.

            "Your magazine is empty. You shouldn't have wasted the bullets on pictures. What did you say you were going to do with my wife again? I forgot." Thomas grinned.

Silence descended upon the room.

            "Cat got your tongue. You were so chatty not long ago. I counted; I had the same gun. It holds seven bullets. You put one on my face, others on the window and sofa, and the last three empty shells were on the floor when you fired into the air. You thought I wouldn't come." Thomas beleaguered the man.

Thomas chuckled, depriving the man of air.

            "I shall enlighten you. You wanted to fucking fuck my wife. You have dared to lay your filthy little hands on my wife. She is hurt and injured, bloodied and bruised. Do you know what happens to people who hurt my wife? To people who dare to look at my wife?" Thomas chuckled.

The man shook his head.

            "You cannot know. Nobody can know, as nobody survived the things I did. I shall enlighten you again." Thomas chuckled.

The grip around the throat got firmer.

            "I'll blast a bullet through your body but you won't die, just feel a little pain, then I'll let you drown long enough for you to feel like you're suffocating but then, a miracle of miracles, I'll let you breathe again. I will leave you alone for a few hours and then return." Thomas whispered.

The wind knocked on the windows.

            "My knife collection is extensive and I will introduce all of them. I haven't counted them in a long time. I think it is time to do that. Then I'll let you live for a few days. I will not let you sleep. My footsteps will make you freeze, you will whimper and beg for death and mercy. I am sure my brothers will help me when they find out what you wanted to do to our family." with each word, the voice grew a tone darker.

Footsteps turned louder.

            "Take him away. I will deal with this mere excuse of a human later. If you wish, you can start without me. I will join you later." the brothers exchanged glances and did as they were asked.

Thomas released the man's throat, laughing with satisfaction as he saw the marks spread across the paled skin and turned to his wife. Again, he smiled, having never wanted her to witness this side of his soul.

            "I have more important things to attend to," Thomas breathed.

Carefully, fearing she would flee, he pulled her into a tightening embrace and breathed a kiss on her forehead.

            "It's all right. He won't hurt you again. I won't leave for London; Arthur can do that for me. I'll draw you a bath and, in the meantime, I'll take you downstairs and then I have to do some cleaning in front of the house." he breathed in her ear.

            "How did you know? He could have lied." Y/N whispered.

            "I didn't. I counted. The damage was hard to miss. He was a coward. And I hoped I haven't miscounted. But that's secondary." Thomas whispered.

Returning the embrace, Y/N curled her fingers into his shirt as soft words let her know she had done nothing wrong, that he was not angered nor disappointed, and at the thought, knowing the man had dared to call his wife stupid, the number of ideas of what he could do to the intruder grew.