#Michael gray headcanon

[reiwanwan]

How peaky men fart ‼️

So….today we will be discussing the different ways that I personally think these peaky men fart, maybe I will make this a series like “Unhinged peaky blinder headcanons” And if you have your own unhinged headcanons that you want do feel free to ask! my request are very much open

Tommy 🤍

- most people are convinced this man doesn’t fart, but it’s a natural human function so of course even tommy shelby needs to let one out

- Dead serious expression and completely unfazed

- His farts have no sound and they dont even stink so no one even knows if he farted

- He also has pretty privilege and he knows that so he uses it to his full advantage

- Because of that he has the ability to fart loudly and no one would even bother to think it was him because pretty people dont fart

- In the scenario where if he let one out silently and it did stink he would probably just light a cigarette afterwards to cover up the smell

Arthur 🧡

- Loud and unapologetic

- Disrespectful.

- Absolutely no consideration for the people around him

- He would let it rip and laugh and say that it was the “sound of victory”

- He farts the loudest and is very proud of the volume of it

- He wont fart around ladies though

-Buuut if you were a guy, I’m sorry but you are going to be his victim

-He is kind enough though to let you know if he’s going to fart

John 🩵

- Now this one does NOT let you know when he is going to fart

- Always blames it on someone else

- Has the WETTEST farts and you’re always having to ask him to check his boxers because you are so sure he shit himself

- He does the classic “pull my finger” joke with his kids

- If you were laying down next to this man i’m sorry but you are getting dutch ovened and you will suffocate

- After he lets you out he apologises and says “must be the cabbages you made earlier”

Alfie 🤎

- Another loud farter here, second to arthur

- Also lets you know when he’s going to fart

- You guys could be walking together and he will stop you, “Hold on treacle…” and then proceed to rip ass.

- Will continue holding your hand as he farts

-If you seem embarrassed he will turn it into a whole monologue when he’s done and when you guys continue walking

- Gives long-winded explanations about how it is “A normal human bodily function”

- “you see love…holding it in wouldn’t be healthy because you see right…it’s a sign of a proper, working digestive system, its how god meant it to be”

Michael 💙

- Oh boy please don’t ever call him out he will get defensive and his ego will be CRUSHED

- Really feels like farting is emasculating and will insist on holding it in till he gets home to let it out

- Polly can always tell when he needs to fart for some reason and will tell her stubborn son that he is allowed to fart

- But in the case where he desperately needs to fart, he will excuse himself and go outside

- And boy does he let that one go wild because he’s pretty sure that fart cured all his stomach problems

- His farts doesn’t smell too idk why I just feel like he wouldn’t have stinky farts

Finn 💛

- Everyone pushes the blame onto him if they fart

- Especially arthur

-John would blame it on finn if he was sitting next to girl that he fancied. “Ughhh finn you nasty bastard…letting one out next to a lass?”

-Tommy would fart and then blame it on finn if someone smelt his own silent fart and everyone around will he quick to believe him

-Poor Finn

-If he farts he will be very embarrassed

-but understands its normal so he would try not to make a big deal out of it and man it out lol

-If people do start laughing at him though, he will join and laugh along just to save face even if it did actually hurt his feelings just a wee bit

That is all lovely human beings please do let me know what you guys think of this. The reason for writing this purely because I was super bored and my imagination goes wild and also because I thought that it would be completely hilarious lmao xx

[peakyblinders1919]

Remember

This was as close to a ball as you were ever going to get. Fancy beaded gowns, men in tuxedos smoking French cigars, fountains of champagne flowing like water, romantic orchestra music and something electric in the air.

Not sure when you were separated from each other, Michael was glowing under the chandelier, his smile wide but fake as he discussed pleasantries with worthy adversaries. He sipped his whiskey, nodded his head, and only truly smiled when he caught your eye. His eyes, emerald green, radiant as the forests of the earth, locked onto yours, and he was offering a less-than-sorry apology to his company, and sauntering to your rescue across the marble dance floor. Checkered black and white like a chess board, he was the knight, the king, dancing effortlessly around other guests holding priceless champagne flutes, to return to your side. 

When he invited you to Arrow House, not as a friend, not as a date to show off to his mother, but as the only girl he wanted on his arm to show off, his prized jewel, he waited anxiously for your answer. He kept repeating how he knew it was a lot to ask, warned you how it was all going to end up feeling like one big show of announcing your relationship, you had listened and then you had countered with “do you want me to come or are you only trying to further steer me away? Because it isn’t going to work.”

The way he did smile when he was with you, like now after he was comfortably by your side, was full of freedom, relief, a contagiousness that possess the magic to ease the tense in your shoulders, his jaw. That smile of his was rare, kept locked up only for you and special occasions, and you were more than honored to be the one to guard it. Keep it safe.

He snuck his arm around your bedazzled waist, pretending to play with the dangling beads of your dress to the normal eye, but the way his fingertips pressed patterns into your side suggested he had other motived for his actions. 

The company you found yourself around- some young girls who knew nothing of the business world, merely here as things to flaunt by the powerful men who had actually been invited- oohed and ahed at the two of you. 

You’d blush if you could.

You’d blush if you cared.

Finishing the last sip of liquid gold, delicate gloved fingers placed the empty glass on a waiter’s moving tray, your hand finding safe purchase on Michael’s chest. You noticed the girls’ wandering eyes as said gloved hand dipped just beneath the expensive suit jacket, as close as you’d dare get to the skin on skin contact you desperately craved. But let them look.

He greeted you properly then with a kiss, chaste, soft, swift. 

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt ladies, but I need to steal this beautiful lady for a moment. If you will…” Michael was scarily good at apologies.

He swept you off your feet, leading you out to empty hallway of the house, 5 degrees cooler and providing a break from the opulent madness in the ballroom. Away from prying eyes, save for the maids, you found yourself pushing him against the smart wood paneled walls giving him the type of kiss you had wanted him to give you inside; needy, hot, one to savor, licking the taste of expensive cigarette smoke from his lips, earth whiskey mingling with a hint of confetti and bubbles. He kissed you back all the same, hands becoming greedy as they pushed and palmed at the curve of your hip, pulling you flush against him and still needing a handful more. Somehow, even across the room mid-conversation, he knew you needed this.

Breaking the kiss, you locked your arms behind his back to steady yourself as you looked into his eyes. Pupils blown, lounge darting to lick the traces of you off his lips, he couldn’t hold your stare long, eyes darting back down to inspect the very lips he wanted another taste of.

Like a well-choreographed dance, he leaned forward and you leaned back, only to be met by his puppy dog stare.

“Don’t give me that look. As much as I want to Michael, don’t start what you can’t finish. I just want to have a lie down, my feet are killing me.”

That was met with a chuckle, solidifying what he already knew the second he had seen you bathed in gold, more beautiful then he’d ever seen you, the apples of your cheeks a rosy pink from alcohol, eyelids heavy, gaze starry, wandering around the room in search of something. In search of him.

“Let’s get those heels off then.” He had proven to you already that, though he should, he didn’t much care about what was proper and what was not, the country boy in him shining through at moments like this when he was disguised in a tailored suit kissing you nastily up against a wall and bending down to unbuckle your shoes and carry them by the straps on your journey down the carpeted hall. So plush under your bare feet, hand in hand, you skipped around the halls of the house, Michael checking behind every other door in search of your room for the night. The farther he searched, the more tired you became, Champagne sitting different than gin or whiskey, leaving your chest warm, cheeks hot to the touch, the rest of you weightless, floating on air, except for your eyes, which you struggled to keep open. 

“Here we are.” He announced much today your relief, nearly being dragged into the dark room. There was no time to admire the wealth of the room before you found yourself lying on the plus mattress, the soft feather down bed beneath you all that mattered. 

Your eyes closed for just a second, an overwhelming feeling of relief washing over you, providing you a little more energy to lean up on your arms when feeling the dip of the bed. In the silence, you selfishly took the time to watch Michael beside you. Study him and the cut of his hair, the form of his side profile, the long hook of his nose, the way his back tensed beneath the jacket, the curves of his body a roadmap of your entire world.

“Let me help.” It wasn’t a question so you didn’t bother waiting for an answer, crawling over to undo his tie and drape it on the headboard. His cufflinks were next, the buttons of his shirt, the shirt itself. Under eyelashes kissing his cheeks he watched you silently. Under other circumstances, there might have been something hot and needy about this interaction, but you were too tired and he was too in awe of how determined you were, how beautiful you looked in rhinestone and sequins in the light dancing over. All for him.

He caught your wrists in his as they creeped lower. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to, bringing his green hand to your cheek. His thumb grazed over the Apple do your cheek, still warm from Champagne. He traced everything line of your face, thumb pad brushing over your eyebrows, your cheek, down your nose, your bottom lip. You pouted, more than tired, near exhaustion, and needy for his love. You leaned in, a kiss thy was needy in another way, needy for fluid warmth, his reassurance, his soul.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re a natural.”

“At what?”

“Fitting into this lifestyle and finding your place in it.”

“My place in it is by your side.”

And they’re you were, Hans resting on his leg and moving a bit more towards his length, taught and aching against his pants. Leaning to kiss him again, convincing yourself the electricity of the kiss caused your eyes to close but the champagne was unaccounted for.

Micheal stopped your hand again, ignoring the tired pout on your lips. His fingers found the strap of your dress, causing your back with an unexpected yelp at the coldness of them. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Undressing you quickly, you kissed his fingers to warm them, slowly coming to find his motive getting you out of your gown was to get you under the covers. 

You fit into his side like a puzzle piece that had been missing forever and belonged there. He could read your mind, from the moment ok the dance floor where he rescued you until now, pulling your back flush to his front, strong protective arms wound around your waist. He kissed the crown of your head and held your secrets in the dark.

“I know you wanted to… I…” you yawned, moving further into his embrace and the warmth or offered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. My family is draining. I didn’t want to spend another minute down there away from you.”

“Don’t go soft on me now Michael Gray.” He heard the smile in your voice as strongly as you felt his.

Silence fell around you both like a blanket, oblivious to the party continuing downstairs. You had never been to party like this, and still it wasn’t the expensive drinks or the dance you shared with the man you were falling in love with that you would remember; it was the last hour of the night when it was just you and him against the world, the way you curled around each other, and the way he tried to make it sound like he was upset when he told you “your feet are ice-cold” but he really wasn’t, he couldn’t care less. 

happy thanksgiving to those in the States and anyone who celebrates! more than thankful for all of you

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Physical Preferences for (Michael Gray, Luca Changretta, and Alfie Solomons)

Warning: mentions of weight, body types, and gendered language. This is not intended to body shame and are all merely head canons.

- Michael is a tricky one because he cares a good deal about his image. He likes to dress well, he likes to live luxuriously, he likes to present himself as a gilded God. It seems only natural that his wife would be a woman like Gina; tall, blonde, and glamorous. That said, his attraction to her may have more to do with her confidence than just looks. If a woman can carry herself with unshakable self-worth and power, Michael is bound to buckle. However, it's worth noting that he doesn't mind a woman taller than himself and is clearly very attracted to his wife... even when she's being very, very bad.

- Luca enjoys softness. He’s not a huge fan of flappers with their loud dresses and sharp haircuts. A lady with soft curves, long hair, and a body that implies she likes to rest: That’s what he likes. And yes, that means Luca would tip his hat to a lady with a bit more around her waist. Not just the girls lucky enough to have an hourglass figure. He likes dark hair, darker skin tones, maybe a redhead but mainly women with black or brown hair. 

- Alfie will say, “Jewish,” if you ask him what his type is. In reality, his type of woman (regardless of religion) is vaguely unhinged and with a bright smile. Big thighs are also appreciated. A jewish woman with big thighs, a bright smile and grand sense of humor is always on his list when his mother makes him meet with the matchmaker. Alfie is a man undaunted by size or shape, his partner would still need a thick skin though as he will reference their looks to others in his odd way of speaking. He will never, ever insult them purposely. If a stranger or friend were to insult his lady, they would be missing their jaw shortly. 

[pacifymebby]

Bonjour daddy 😉 can I request the peaky boys with cuddling? Like who’s the big spoon, which positions who’s the most cuddly etc.. me has gotten her period so I’m feeling all 🙍🏼‍♀️

Hahaha a total side note, i made that same joke to b and he just smirked like, if thats what you'd like to believe I won't ruin ur moment haha

Tommy

🌿 Is very big on the standing up cuddle, opening his arms up to you and holding you nice and snug against his body, wrapping his arms right around you, one hand stroking through your hair or cradling the back of your head.

🌿Will rest his chin on top of yours, kiss your parting and close his eyes, breathing in your scent

🌿Is a very doomed man and is always lowkey aware that every hug could be the last time he gets to hold his angel so every hug is savoured. He focuses on memorising exactly how he feels in the moment he's holding you, every detail filed away in his memory.

🌿He likes to be big spoon, but more than that he likes to lie on his back with your body on top of his.

🌿Drawing patterns down your back quietly, again trying to remember every detail. Obsessed with the sensation of your light restful breaths tickling his bare chest

🌿Loves the skin on skin feeling, always chasing purity in love and it makes him feel so connected to you, so intimate.

🌿 When you're on your period he recognises the change in your temper and is very careful with you, he will try not to snap at you or show any sign of irritation because he's aware how easily wounded you are... He makes sure to hug you and hold you even more than usual

🌿Modern! Tommy would make sure you had a hot waterbottle and all the blankets you needed, get you cosy in bed or on the sofa in front of the tv to watch your favourite movie. He'll humour whatever trash you want to watch and lie there behind you, kissing you and playing with your hair, more focussed on you than the tv.

Alfie

🐻 Big spoon always because he just wants to hold you, wants to be able to put his hands wherever he likes.

🐻 Likes to hold you in sexual places in a non-sexual way. What I mean by this is that if you're little spoon he'll hold one of your breasts in his hand, but just that, simply holding it just because he can... And not because he wants anything more than just to hold you

🐻 Also likes to tickle you on purpose with his beard, his stubble brushing your cheek or your neck, making you giggle and squirm rousing you from your sleep for just long enough he can ask for a kiss.

🐻 His favourite place to cuddle with you however is in a rocking chair by the fire, you bundled up in his lap under a blanket, him holding you safe and snug, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. You're the most precious thing in the world to him so he likes to have you bundled up in his arms at any opportunity.

🐻 You could be busy around the house talking to him about your day or mithering and worrying, or asking him about business and he will refuse to talk to you about any of it until you've gone and sat down in his lap. He'll pat his thigh and open his arms for you, "now now zieskiet, whatve I told you eh, if you're gonna come home talkin me poor old ears off about that nonsense you've at least got to let me hold my little girl whilst I listen eh... Take pity on your old man yeah poppet?"

🐻 Very possesive, can't keep his hands off you ever so when you're cuddling he's constantly rubbing his palms over your arms, or holding your thigh, always doing little things to let you know he's there, that youre all his and he's got you.

🐻 Gives big squeezy bear hugs holds onto you so tight, keeps your face burried into his chest, blocks out the rest of the world so that all you can feel his him all around you.

🐻 Alfie's too old to be immature about your period and if anything he feels a little sorry for you, he doesnt like that he can't do much to help you but he always makes sure he's very gentle with you. Even more doting than usual.

🐻 Gives the best belly rubs, like he ubderstands that you need to do more than just rub your hands lightly over your tummy. He'll rub his hands together to heat them up first and then gently massage you until you're feeling a little better.

🐻 Modern Alfie wouldn't be embarrassed about going to shops to get your pads but he also wouldn't be going... He'd be sending Ollie so that you and him could have a good laugh at Ollie expense.

Arthur

🍂 Doesn't realise until one day you climb into bed after him and make yourself big spoon, wrapping your body around his, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing down the bumps of his spine, kissing his shoulder too, but he loves being little spoon.

🍂 It makes him feel so safe and loved, makes him feel cherished which is a very new feeling for him, not one he's ever experienced in adult life.

🍂 He loves being able to close his eyes and feel your fingers scratching and massaging his head. You like stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw where his stubble is.

🍂 He doesnt admit that he loves this for a long time though, and you never ask about it because you know that if you do he'll get embarassed and deny it and then potentially never let you hold him again.

🍂Feels almost ashamed that he likes it because he's the man, so isn't he supposed to be the one making you feel loved and cherished and safe?

🍂 Blushes when you prop yourself up on your elbow looking down at him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

🍂Will fall asleepy like that so quickly because its the safest he's ever felt.

🍂 He will however insist upon being big spoon at certain times of the month or when youre feeling unwell. He won't know how to deal with your period at all, he'll only know that youre more argumentative and that he has to be careful not to start a fight with you...

🍂 Doesnt like seeing you cry and you cry at everything when youre on your period so he will spend a lot of time hugging you close to him so that no one can see your tears. Leaves those long held kisses in your hair and you feel protected by him for as long as his lips remain pressed to your head.

🍂 Modern Arthur definitely gets embarassed about having to go to the shops for period pads, like, he definitely panics doesnt know what to buy, goes red, feels like he has to say something at the till even though he really doesn't need to.

John

🌼 Favourite way to cuddle you is to start by tackling you to the ground, play fighting or tickling you. Its like he can't just ask for a hug he has to play a game or trick you into it first...

🌼 Because he loves holding you and cuddling you and he loves kissing you too but he doesn't really know how to persue non-sexual affection without laughing it off and being unserious? The boy just wants a cuddle with his flower but he doesn't know how to ask because cuddling is "soft"

🌼 Definitely big spoon. Similar to Alfie, likes to have possesion of you, when youre wrapped up in his arms youre completely at his mercy and he can do whatever he likes to/with you.

🌼 Loves to tickle you and feel how with nowhere else to go you scramble and squirm further into his hold. And if he makes you jump even better because they you flinch and reach for something to hold onto, so you end up gripping his shirt or throwing your arms around his neck and clinging onto him just the way he likes it.

🌼 Isn't very good at tummy rubs alas, but thats because he can't get his head around the idea that pressing on your tummy when its sore, will help make you feel better "won't that just hurt more?"

🌼 Gives you lots of kisses though, will try to tease and tickle you to make you laugh and smile to distract you from the pain. I guess his cuddle style is playful.

🌼 Loves a naked skin to skin cuddle the best, likes to hold your bare body in his arms and draw patterns all over your skin as you fall asleep.

🌼 Lets you bite him very gently on the shoulder mid hug (one for the girls if u know u know)

🌼 9 times out of 10 cuddles with John lead elsewhere... Like, cuddling definitely puts john in a certain kinda mood

🌼 Oh you just wanted a nice sleepy cuddle? It might start off that way but after a minute or two of having his body pressed up against yours his minds wandered to... Places

🌼 Definitely does stuff like "got ur nose" just as you're drifting off and relaxing.

🌼 Surprisingly serious about your period, perhaps he wouldn't have been once, as a younger lad he'd have teased you or told you off for even telling him about that.

🌼 But he's a man now and he firmly believes real men need to take care of their woman, so he'll make sure you have everything you need. Will pretend to be embarrassed about having to go to the shops to get your period pads or whatever but actually doesn't care at all. He's only teasing you, trying to make you laugh at him by pretending to get really flustered about it.

🌼 His favourite thing to do is pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and then throw you down on the bed to cuddle you.

Bonnie

🍀 The cuddliest sweetheart you can imagine, always finding an excuse to give you a hug, always coming up behind you and making you jump when you're concentrating on something else, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your neck, kiss your shoulder, just rest his chin on your shoulder or have his cheek pressed against yours.

🍀Loves having you sitting in his lap and will always choose a table at the Garrison with not enough seats for everyone so that he has an excuse to pull you into his lap. Really does just like to have a hold on you at all times. Even if you're not talking or interacting in any other way. He just likes to be physically near you.

🍀 Definitely similar to John, play fights, chases around the house/fields always just as an excuse to get his hands on you.

🍀Always pulls you in for a hug when you first see eachother/say hello. Will give you the tightest squeeze and lift you up off your feet.

🍀Loves carrying you, your legs around his waist, you holding onto him nice and tight, dependent on him.

🍀Dreams dreams dreams of the day you've lots of wee kids to cuddle with, the five of you getting huddled up and cosy in mammy and daddys bed for a bedtime story.

🍀When its you and him all cuddled up in bed for the night he likes to either be big spoon or have you asleep on his chest, his hand resting on your back. He often gets worried about the home being broken into or an attack in the middle of the night so he feels most comfortable when you're right there sleeping as close to him as possible. Means he can know you're safe as can be and he can be there to protect you.

🍀Loves naked cuddles, skin on skin, legs tangled, feels so close and warm and intimate and he's so in love with you, so devoted to you that he craves that closeness and only feels complete when he has you in his arms and he can feel your heartbeats sinking up.

🍀Will hold you/spoon you all night!!!! You will wake up wrapped in his arms and if you need to get out of bed for anything in the night sorry but Bonnie will not be letting you go without a fight. Loves to hold your head burried in his chest.

🍀 Probably not phased by your period and if he is he isn't going to show it at all. Doesn't like you being in pain at all and he's very good at giving you back massages and tummy rubs. He also knows that theres another way to help with period pain and he isn't scared of touching you when its your time of the month. (Bonnie and Aberama are the only two peaky men I think would finger you when you're on your period tbh, tommy might but I'm not entirely sure?)

🍀 Modern bonnie sends you a photo of the period aisle at rhe shops because he's confused but determined to get the exact right things for you.

🍀 He's always lowkey dissapointed when you get your period because that means no babies

Isaiah

🐀I think it probably takes him awhile to get particularly cuddly and affectionate. For all I imagine he's a tactile, flirtatious playboy type, I don't think he knows how to just hug it out or have soft sleepy cuddle you know?

🐀You probably initiate most of the cuddles, and he always tries to pull away before you're ready too, so you have to grip him extra tight and put up a fight...

🐀But then he gets a taste for that, feels good how you practically beg him for just a hug... You always ask him "Saiah can I have a hug please?" because unless you tell him you want to be hugged he won't think to do it... But he LOVES hearing you ask for that. "Saiah I wanna hug" when you're tired and whiny. He sometimes denies you just to make you ask again. "Say please love..." "God what am I to you? A fuckin hug dispenser?"

🐀He's always big spoon, because he's a fragile masculinity adolescent... He hasn't grown out of the complex of needing to be the man, so he's always the one cuddling you... He won't ever let anyone think he enjoys all that soft shit...

🐀But when no one is around he's actually very cute and sweet to you. Nose kisses all the time. A secret fan of the penguin kiss (where u rub noses idk?)

🐀I think he learns to be affectionate with you over time and is cuddly but mostly only in private. You have mastered the "hug me" eyes now and if you get them just right and you sit there looking at him like that for long enough he'll say "Right.. You've brought this on yourself y/n" as if you're in serious trouble, then he'll march over and sit himself in your lap squishing and crushing you until you can't breath for laughing. Only then will he give you a proper hug - but the cuddles are worth the torment you have to go through first.

🐀As bad, if not worse than john on the horny cuddler front. Is genuinely so confused about how he's supposed to tangle you up like that, bundled up against his chest so that every part of his body can feel every part of your body pushing against him, and not get turned on... A nice peaceful cuddle can become pretty heated pretty quickly. He'll feign innocence (sometimes he won't and he'll just slip his hand into your underwear and take you buy surprise) all his little caresses and kisses seemingly innocent at first but really, not at all...

🐀When it comes to your period Isaiah pretends he's man enough not to care, he'll screw his face up all "ew no way y/n fuck no..." then crack a grin and make out like he was only teasing you, but secretly he feels really awkward about it and doesn't know what to do. He'll panic at the shop, get annoyed when he buys the wrong thing and you send him back. But he's trying, he wants to be a good boyfriend so over time he'll do his best to learn.

Michael

☘️ Secret cuddler...

☘️ You have to work so hard to get him to trust you but once you secure his trust (once he knows you aren't going to laugh at him or tell his brothers what a sook he is) he will reveal his soft side to you and oh my god is he soft

☘️ He loves cuddling and being cuddled. Bug spoon, little spoon, sitting in an arm chair, picking you up and swirling you round, carrying you to bed for more cuddles, having you lie on his chest, him lying on your chest (secretly his favourite way to cuddle) any cuddling at all, he loves it

☘️ But his favourite is definitely lying with his head to your breast, your hand in his hair maybe giving him head scratches or playing with his hair, your legs closed around his body so that he's completely secure. He could fall asleep here so easily. He loves it. Especially after a hard day at the office or when his cousins are being particularly demanding.

☘️ He loves to cuddle you too, loves being big spoon when you're naked in bed, likes getting to hold you anyway he wants. Your legs tangled together, perhaps one of his hands holding your hands, kissing your shoulder, your neck, between your shoulder blades. He loves waking up in that position after a nap, the two of you nuzzled into one another.

☘️ Isn't awkward about you getting your period as such, he doesnt think its gross but he's very concious of social taboos so if you come right out complaining about period pain or saying that you've accidentally bled on your dress he'll turn such a bright shade of red. You always forget and it always makes you laugh.

☘️ Gets annoyed when you tease him about it

☘️ Is very worried that youre in pain. Worried too that you'll lose too much blood. It takes a lot to explain to him that you're not going to bleed out on your period...

☘️ Tries to dote on you but gets overwhelmed by all the demands and the things you need. Because he's so worried about getting things wrong or upsetting you.

☘️Won't give good tummy rubs or massages because he's too scared he'll hurt you. Will run you a hot bath and wash your hair for you.

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 8

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

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

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing 

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9

The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.

Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.

            "Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.

Faintly Y/N smiled.

            "I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.

Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.

            "I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.

Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.

            "We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.

Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.

            "Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.

Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue. 

            "I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.

With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.

            "Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.

The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.

            "May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.

Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.

            "It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.

Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.

            "Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.

Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.

            "We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.

Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.

Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.

Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.

Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.

            "No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.

            "That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.

Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.

            Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.

            "Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.

Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.

            "She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.

Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.

            "Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.

Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.

            “We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.

A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.

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[imgonnagetkilledbynutstink]

Y'all here me out

Apollo & Hyacinthus

Dionysus & Ampelos

Hermes & Amphion

Ares & Aphrodite

[saintsir4n]

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You’ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

[strawbrry-vamp]

band members favorite sanrio characters :: SLIPKNOT

sid wilson :: my sweet piano

joey jordison :: chococat

paul gray :: pompompurin

chris fehn :: hangyodn

jim root :: kuromi

craig jones :: pochacco

shawn crahan :: my melody

mick thomson :: badtz-maru

corey taylor :: aggretsuko

jay weinberg :: hello kitty

alessandro venturella :: cogimyun

michael pfaff :: cinnamoroll

mystery guy :: gudetama

eloy casagrande :: keroppi

[d3lta-200x]

Please I just need an adorable house husband with the Shelby Brothers 😭😭😭

Shelby brothers + Michael with a house husband s/o

TW: cannon typical violence

MALE GENDER SPECIFIED

B/T = body type

F/C = favourite colour

H/C = hair colour

A/N- requests are open

*Thomas Shelby*

- he absolutely love coming home to you after a long stressful day, to a clean and tidy house.

- he adores your cooking and is greatfull that you cook for him.

- if you make him any treats or pastry he would take them to work and share them out to his brothers.

- he thinks that you are a sweet heart

- his love language is giving so expect alot of gifts.

*Arthur Shelby*

- he loves you astronomicaly.

- cuddles, everywhere and anywhere.

- he is tuch starved

- he will just cling to you ' no, M/N I won't let you go I don't care if you are making us tea, I want cuddles.'

- he just wants to stay with you because you are so handsome

- you have to take care of him and make sure he doesn't get worse anger and alcohol wise

- he actually reduced how much he drinks because of you

*John Shelby*

- he is cuddly but not as cuddly as Arthur, but still cuddly.

- you and him either at the Garrison, in his room or in the kitchen.

- he loves to cook with you.

- he loves to show everyone what you two have baked togever.

- he love how he always has some sort of treat to come home too.

- he really doesn't notice how clean the house is.

- he loves to hold your hand.

- kisses, alot of them.

*Michael Gray*

- you probably help Polly around the house alot, with the cleaning, food and you make tee for him before he comes home.

- loves to hold you close

- definitely holds you head and gives you for head kisses

- he prefers to do stuff like that in private, not to fund of PDA.

- that doesn't mean that he doesn't love you

- he thinks that it would put you at risk and himself.

- he wouldn't want you to get hurt.

[zablife]

Hi Lee, hope you are feeling better. I hope you have a lovely week ahead. I was wondering if I could make a headcanon request for how Tommy, John, Alfie, Michael, Luca and Jack surprise the reader for valentines day. I've also just seen Florence + The Machine live and was curious which Florence song you would designate to each Peaky character (women included)?

Hi darl, tysm for the well wishes and this lovely request! It was so much fun! I hope you enjoy my answers (below the cut).

Peaky Blinders Valentine's Day

🌹Tommy-It's a huge surprise when your workaholic bf takes the day off to spend it with you. He lets you sleep late, cuddled into his side, and has Frances bring breakfast in bed. You spend a leisurely day on the grounds of Arrow House laughing and talking without a care in the world. Tomorrow the hectic pace of Tommy's life will take over again, but tonight he's all yours. You end the day in the large clawfoot tub together sipping champagne.

🌹John-He finds a babysitter for the children and whisks you away in the vardo to remind you of a time before you both had responsibilities. It thrills you to go off wandering as though you were reckless teenagers. John picks wildflowers for you like he did years ago on your first Valentine's Day together. As night falls, you sit by the warm campfire, drinking from the same bottle and recalling all your happiest moments as a couple.

🌹Alfie-You wake up on Valentines' Day to find Cyril wearing a sign that says "Big Brother." When you tell Alfie you're confused, he brings you a small whimpering bundle and your heart nearly bursts. Inside is the puppy Ollie rescued a week ago outside the distillery. The same puppy Alfie insisted you couldn't keep. As Alfie leans in to offer an apology to you, the pup steals his make up kiss, licking your nose and making you giggle with delight.

🌹Michael-He knows a romantic evening at home won't be happening with his mum listening so he takes you out on the town for a night of dancing. You're shocked that he doesn't complain once the entire evening. Michael twirls and dips you on the dance floor as other couples look on enviously. When the band plays a slow tune, it feels safe and warm in his embrace. And when you rest your head on his shoulder, he whispers sweet words that make your heart flutter.

🌹Luca-You're stunned to see Luca in the kitchen, covered in flour when you return home from work. He explains that he's making homemade gnocchi for dinner and offers to teach you. He stands behind you, taking your hands in his as he shows you how to create the proper shape and can't help stealing a kiss when you make one perfectly by yourself.

🌹Jack-It's no surprise that Jack buys you the most beautiful diamond and ruby necklace you've ever seen for Valentine's Day. He loves to spend money on you and often buys you lavish gifts to show his affection. "Nothing's too good for my girl," he tells you. As he removes the jewelry from its velvet case, he clasps the cool metal around your neck carefully, placing delicate kisses to your shoulder that make you shiver with pleasure.

The second part of your request was to match Peaky characters to the Florence + the Machine song I associate them with, but I decided to use couples in honor of Valentine's Day. I hope that's ok.

Tommy + Lizzie - Cosmic Love

Arthur + Linda - Kiss With a Fist

John + Esme - Wish That You Were Here

Polly + Aberama - Heaven is Here

Ada + Freddie - You've Got the Love

Michael + Gina - Dream Girl Evil

[riridontneedya]

What's mine isn't yours / Part 4 ... 

Part 4 of the "What's mine isn't yours" series . I'm sure you all were absolutely quaking in anticipation for this ahaha . Anyway I took some time pondering what direction to take it without it being repetitive ...Alas I had a brain wave and this segment is spicy , juicy and angsty. If I don't say so myself. I finally had Micheal and y/n do the devils tango .. that ish was coming especially if you've read any of the other Parts so with that comes the WARNINGS! If you read this and still read on knowing damn well you shouldn't be engaging... just don't I have other content. Click here for Master-list and to read the other segments .

Warnings: SMUT (with a plot lol) mature adult themes , description of sexual acts.

Word count: 2231

Pairing: Tommy x Micheal x y/n (female reader)

A/n : ENJOY! let me know if you're enjoying this love triangle of sorts .. also let me know if you have any ideas what direction you'd like it to take etc or any requests come say hi I don't bite :). As always a shout out to the absolute babe who gave me the name suggestion @notyour-valentine <3 xx

It was abundantly clear that in this instant actions indeed spoke louder than words. Up until this point it had been all talk with Micheal, but now .. now with his action behind it y/n knew she was in deep. As they withdrew from the kiss y/n stood mouth agape in absolute awe. By no means did she dislike like the kiss .. in-fact it was the complete opposite and that was a problem in itself. She strongly believed that all the pent up tension would immediately dissipate the second they put action to it, but that wasn’t to be the case and now she was stood in a field . Overwhelmed with emotion , a new found yearning for Micheal and a gnawing guilt regarding Tommy… “Y/n” Michael spoke quietly to gently pry her away from her thoughts. Y/n let out an exasperated sigh  “Fuck” she muttered as she began to lightly pace back and forth with her hands firmly stationed at her hips. Michael couldn’t help but grin as his eyes followed her on her little excursion. 

“Well , can’t say I've ever had that reaction after a kiss”.  Y/n stopped her pacing and glared at him whilst  beginning to ramble incoherently. He couldn’t help but chuckle he found her little panicked fluster rather endearing. “Y/n! What is it you want right now darling?”. Y/n’s face fell as she began to process the question . “Use your words darling” he prompted. “Thats the problem Micheal, I don’t even know myself … but in this very moment I want you right now..” “Hmmm , I'm sure you do but if I remember rightly you didn’t want your judgment clouded with sex”. Y/n was visibly baffled .. did he do all of that only to reject her at the last hurdle. “ I have a better idea it only requires a little patience beautiful .We’re home we can do whatever we like. I say we make the most of it, us without restriction.  Yeah yeah I can fuck you fast and ragged out here and that be it … but I want to have my way with you .. have you take me deep and slow until you can’t take it anymore”.  Y/ns stomach felt as if it had be hurtled rapidly to her feet .She had absolutely no retort for that she was rendered speechless . Y/n shuffled back a few steps . Micheal outstretched his arm “Come here love, I won’t bite… unless you're into that sort of thing” he chuckled . Y/n couldn’t smile that spread across her face, it was infectious. “Lets do it” she beamed as she nuzzled into his broad chest. 

Micheal was sure to take advantage of the new found freedom in their pretend bubble. His lips simply refused to leave hers. Like a moth drawn to a flame , at any  opportunity he would take it upon himself to embrace her in a kiss . His hands remained firmly planted on y/ns body. He wanted the world to know that in that moment she was in fact his. The day had left y/n feeling giddy. The experience of “dating” Michael was none like anything she had ever experienced. No wonder the girls in the village during his early teens  flocked in their masses. It was the perfect mixture of wholesome with that delightful undertone of a feverish sexual tension. The day was drawing to a close and Michael had suggested the pair head for a drink to close off the day. Still remaining cautious they decided to go to a pub further a field  just on the outskirts to lessen the chance of bumping into anyone who knew of them prior. 

The bar was filled with a raucous energy. Music was blaring ,  people were bleating along merrily and wildly gyrating , causing their drinks to slosh everywhere. They were truly caught up in the moment. As chaotic as it seemed it  was a perfect environment really as they wouldn’t be the focal point . A place in which they could rekindle with one another,  could be teenagers all over again . They would be free of unwanted intrusions and rogue gunshots. In that moment they had the world to themselves. The pair slopped in and made themselves comfortable at a booth tucked away in the corner. “Ill go grab us a drink”  y/n smiled to Michael. Pulling her in for one last ferocious kiss he draped her over his knees , having her straddle him.“We're in public you know” panted y/n .

Paying her no mind he just grinned continuing to use his mouth to tease and taunt every part of her exposed flesh. “Micheal” she attempted to snap but it fell short as it slipped out as a moan. The mere sound of her made him stiffen with pleasure, he was ecstatic and craved her even more “ Fucccking hell It drives me fucking insane when you moan my name..” Rather briskly he removed y/n from his lap and stood up, taking her by the wrist he began to lead her towards the backdoor. “Where are we going” y/n squealed as she teetered behind him.  Practically shoving her out the door he turned to her “Bed.. now” he snarled. There it was again the sensation of her stomach being flung from a height. 

Bounding up the stairs and tumbling into the room the pair began to swiftly disrobe one another in-between frantic kisses. Michael paused and rested his forehead on y/n’s tying his arms at her waist  playfully backing her against the wall. “Say you want me , and Im yours y/n” he whispered into her lips. “I want you to ruin me Micheal”. The dark of his pupils engulfed his eyes leaving them inky black , he had been handed the keys to paradise and he wasn’t about to waste anytime. “Oh my  y/n.. fuck you shouldn’t have said that”. Unpinning her from the wall he took a hold of her leg and hooked it around his waist. “Jump” he demanded .

Obediently complying she now was being lifted and carried by Michael towards the bed . Gently he placed her on her back relishing the sight of her “ Open your mouth for me” he murmured as he plunged his index and middle finger into y/ns warm mouth. “Thats a good girl suck harder” she began sucking them with earnest eliciting a groan of delight from Michael. He slowly removed his now sopping wet fingers and began to tease them along her neck down her torso all the way down to her entrance . “Do you want my fingers”. “Please” she moaned urgently completely enamoured by his dominance and vocalness. Hitching her underwear to the side his coated fingers began to tease her . “God you're soaking wet already”  he grinned . With a deliberately agonisingly slow pace he probed his fingers inside her .. then began to build momentum. This caused y/n to moan and begin to buck her hips “ Thats a good girl , spread your legs wider for me”. As she did so his thrusting became deeper and deeper hitting all the points that made her flutter. Y/n let her head flop back as she began to pant. “Keep your eyes on me” he snapped , his hand now fastened at her neck. 

Michaels pace had reached new heights and y/n’s body began to quiver . “ I told you once before and I'll tell you again if you want to come you better beg . Y/n began to plead pathetically desperate for a release “ Louder , let me hear you”. Practically shrieking she begged and begged to let her finish . Giving her exactly no time to recuperate from her orgasm  , Michael was already laying on the bed and hoisting her toward him. “Sit on my face” he ordered “What?” she murmured still in a daze. “You heard me .. now sit on my face”. 

Eager to please she carefully placed herself onto him. Wasting no time he held onto her and began to devour her as if his life depended on it. With each stroke and flick from his warm skilful tongue it sent y/n into a frenzy causing her to clutch on the headboard for dear life as her legs quivered relentlessly. Unable to speak with his face buried so deep in her , and wanting her to achieve another orgasm . Micheal tightened his grip around her preventing her from wriggling away . Y/n squealed .

This was ammunition for him as he rolled his tongue faster and faster over her hypersensitive bud. Unable to bear it anymore her body tremoured as she released for a second time. Content with his work he was beaming ear to ear he panted “You taste so good .. I couldn’t get enough of you”. y/n smiled bashfully “I want you you inside me now Micheal” she demanded. “Oh do you now” he chuckled as he pulled her in for a kiss whilst guiding her downwards towards his now pulsating cock . Y/ns breathe hitched as she slowly eased herself onto his impressive length “You can take it ” he cooed as she finally slid down onto him , coating him in her warmth and slickness. “Fuuck” he muttered under his breathe as he held onto her beginning to slowly thrust from beneath . Y/n let out a guttural moan her head falling onto his shoulder. “ Thats it baby, don’t hold back .. show me how much you need me” y/n continued to let the moans tumble from her  as he began to pound at a feral rate. 

With an impressive manoeuvre he gripped onto her and flipped her around so now he was atop her. “Hmm you look so good beneath me babe , but I want you face down arse up” he ordered “good girl” he smirked as she assumed position. “Hands behind your back sweetheart”. Clutching onto them he picked back up his pace and began to slide in and out of her “You take me so well baby” he grunted administering a sharp slap on her arse. Y/n squealed in delight. Micheal continued to throttle into y/n with a brutal pace. As he was reaching his climax he withdrew from y/n. Taking hold of her thigh he tugged her towards him . Y/n instantly latched her mouth onto his throbbing member . He hissed in utter euphoria as y/n’s warm tongue fluttered all over his raw tip “Yeah baby right there” He moaned breathlessly holding the back of y/n head guiding himself deeper and deeper .

His moans turned into frantic pants and grunts as he got closer . His hand scooped under y/ns chin , his gaze was  now locked onto her tear stained eyes “Swallow” he demanded. Obliging y/n felt the sudden burst of warmth in her mouth that began to cascade down her throat. “Thats my girl” he sighed planting a kiss on her forehead. “Lets say we get you cleaned up and then .. we can properly unwind”. 

“Thank you” smiled y/n appreciatively as Michael handed her a small glass of whiskey. Making himself comfortable he scooted  closer to y/n who was bundled up by the fire in a blanket. “Room for one more?” He grinned . Y/n chuckled as she lifted up her arm inviting him into her blanket fortress. Y/n nested into his chest as he drew the blanket closer around them. The pair cuddled and chattered enjoying every last ounce of each other until they fell into a peaceful slumber wrapped in one another arms. 

There were several loud thuds at the door that came sharp and fast. The sort of firm knocks you’d expect from a police or debt collectors. Michaels eyes snapped open … y/n lay next to him still groggy not completely with it just yet. The knocks came again .. this time with more urgency than the last. He shot up and rearranged his hair and looked for a jumper of some description to fling on. He wondered who it could be … the house was his now as his adoptive parents moved away and left it for him… not many people knew about it and with it being such a sleepy town he didn’t know what required such urgency at this time of the morning. 

He made his way to the door , the peephole was no help as whoever it was stood extremely close obscuring his view so all he could make out was a tall dark figure. Cautiously he opened the door peering around it. The dark figure promptly spun round. Michael’s heart had simply failed to beat , his lungs void of air .. the ground beneath him had crumbled away as he stood face to face with Tommy. “ Michael” … “Tommy what brings you here?” He sprang into action not wanting to seem an ounce bit suspicious.

His tone was cool and controlled.

“Well Micheal" he said, using his index finger to push his glasses further up the bridge of nose " A few of the lads at the Garrison told me you were heading home for a couple days so thats how I knew where to find you … but Im here for someone else .. you see Micheal.. y/n said she was just popping out and just like that she never came home .. no one seems to know where she is and for the life of me I can’t seem to find her … you wouldn’t happen to know anything now … would you” ?

[dr-helia2]

Will you call when you're back at school?

I remember thinkin' I had you.

(I'm in that mood again 🥀)

[melanie-amaya60]

Michael gray! 🖤

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Partner Age-Difference Preferences (Peaky Blinders HCs)

Gn!Reader x Various (Tommy, Arthur, John, Michael)

A/N: suggestive language, toxic masculinity, toxic relationships, discussion of age-gap relationships, the reader is 18+ in all scenarios.

Tommy:

Prefers same age, won’t refuse a younger partner. Tommy has tried being with older partners but found they wanted too much control. And by “control,” we mean an equal part in the relationship. Tommy wants to have two worlds to live in, his world in business and his world at home. Partners his own age/younger tend to tolerate that more. Either they understand what he needs, or they are too naive to see it.

There is a power dynamic that he’s attracted to as well. A same aged partner will debate with him, but not shove him the way an older partner might. Wordplay is a turn-on for him, it’s really foreplay. Even the exchange of barbed comments can get him going. You could be certain that you’re in an argument with him and slowly it melts into an intense bout of eye-fucking that ends up with you naked. A younger partner is perfect for him to put on a pedestal and protect. If you can stand up to him and keep up with his mind, that’s even better. But don’t expect him not to use your age against you if you actually try to have an argument with him.

With a younger partner, Tommy will accept at maximum a ten year age difference. Occasional lovers can be a bit younger, but not by much. By Series 5 or 6, however, Tommy could go to twenty years age difference.

Arthur:

Doesn’t want to admit it, but most women his age feel inaccessible to him. Really has no preference, but most of his partners are younger due to them not immediately identifying that he can’t be changed. And that’s the cruel thing about it all. An older partner has seen people like Arthur and know that they have to accept him as he is or leave. Other partners might not. Which leads Arthur to greater heartbreak.

Unlike Tommy, he will put his partner on a pedestal regardless of age. Whoever you are, he will deify you based only on your choice to love him. Nobody’s ever chosen him before. You must be special. Saintly. An angel. He’ll feel that way even after you leave him. This would likely be most distressing for a younger partner. Arthur is emotionally volatile and immature. He won’t fully understand that the way he clings to you is abusive. He won’t. Not unless you commit to educating him on that, or really, making an ultimatum with him. Threatening to leave him is the best way for him to change even slightly.

Arthur doesn’t have a true preference for age, but he would not be with someone more than fifteen years younger than him. There’s something about feeling like he could be their father that just immediately turns him off. Fifteen feels safer, somehow.

John:

He’ll say he likes them younger because that’s the thing all men say, right? Really, he wants either a partner his own age or older. A partner that knows what they want and know what To Do when they’re alone in bed with him. Also, an older partner might just make him feel… safe. Ideal age difference with an older partner can go as high as ten years.

John does fairly well picking up younger partners for a night of fun, but he’s self-aware enough to know he can’t make a life with them. He has children, he has a drinking problem, he’s a boy in a suit with a gun. John knows this about himself and he wants to grow up. He wants to be stable. John can’t see that happening with a bouncy young thing he met at a pub.

John never wants to look like he’s not the boss in his relationship. Even if everyone can see that you’re the leader, he won’t admit it. The truth is, John is rather immature. Even a partner that’s his exact age is likely to feel older based on that. Unless you are also immature, you’ll find yourself having to be The Adult a lot of the time. Which embarrasses him, but he won’t change quickly. He’ll just put on his angry face and stomp his feet until you make it up to him.

Michael:

Has tried to be with partners younger than himself and found it just wasn’t what he wanted. Hates to say it out loud, but he actually prefers an older partner. Call it Mommy/Daddy issues, but he wants a partner that he can impress. He wants to prove his worth to you constantly while also having you on his arm as a sort of trophy.

In the case where his partner is older, his ideal age difference would be between 3-8 years give or take. Nothing extreme on paper. That’s not to say Michael wouldn’t be attracted to someone older than that, the 3-8 mark is just his go-to answer.

Like John, part of his attraction to an older partner comes from a want for stability. Michael is less interested in the traditional sense of stability, however. He lived a life in the countryside with two well-adjusted parents and a little brother. Michael knows what that life is like. His want for stability comes from wanting a partner with similar wants and goals who won’t easily change their mind. A younger partner or same-aged partner might change their values over time. An older partner knows precisely what they want, and will support Michael. Support him, be in awe of him, have all their attention on him. That’s what Michael wants.

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do a HC of the peaky blinders men having a lover who sings, like they sing so beautifully, and they like sing privately to the boys like love songs to them or a song they made up while slow dancing with them in a room (omfg that would be cute!) Thanks!! Hope your day goes well!! 💜

Aw this is so sweet <3

Warnings: nsfw in some places

Tommy

🌿He heard you singing before he heard you speaking. He was stood behind you in the queue at the bakery and you were singing to yourself under your breath.

🌿Even though you were only singing quietly he could already tell you were a good singer, that he'd like to hear you singing properly.

🌿 So he leant down and spoke quietly to you, "sing a little louder love, shame to waste such a pretty song by keeping it to yourself..."

🌿 Naturally you hushed up pretty sharpish, turning with a little gasp, a blush flourishing on your cheeks. You even apologised upon seeing who it was you'd disturbed with your little song...

🌿But he just chuckles and asks you again, "No I mean it, I you have a lovely voice, I'd like to hear a little more..."

🌿Then you're really blushing because this is Tommy Shelby you're talking to and he's asking you to sing for him in the middle of the bakery, and no one refuses him when he asks for something...

🌿 So you do, because you have to. You're trembling with nerves when you begin to sing a little louder, and you feel the eyes of other people in the shop watching you. You know that impromptu singing isn't exactly normal for a Thursday morning...

🌿 But its Tommys eyes on you that are doing the most damage. He's watching you so intensely.

🌿And when you finish your song, trailing off because your nerves have caught up to you and you feel ridiculous - which you tell him - he just takes your hands, tells you you're shaking, and then tells you again that your voice is beautiful.

🌿He pays for your shopping as a thank you and you expect never to see him again however that isnt the case and you seem to see him more often than ever. Its like he's searching you out...

🌿And he is... After hearing you sing for the first time he's obsessed with you, he thinks you've the most pure and angelic voice... It soothed him, calmed him when he needed to be brought back down to earth and he's determined to get close to you, have you all to himself.

🌿And naturally Tommy gets what he wants, he always does. He goes to the bakery at least once a day, always vague about why he's there, never lying about it because he isn't embarrassed or ashamed of that kind of thing. His determination has always been a strong point.

🌿 "In here a lot lately Tommy, and you don't have a sweet tooth in you..." "No, no you're right Sammy I don't... I'm just looking for someone, figure they do have a sweet tooth," shoots the baker boy a knowing half smile, like they're sharing an in joke, because he knows that being friendly with this lad will get him the information he wants.

🌿"Comes in first thing Saturday mornin and first thing Mondays too, sometimes shes in on a Wednesday for bread flour..."

🌿 So the next Saturday morning he's there bright and early and he finds himself in the queue behind you again, but today you know hes there and youre shy and embarassed remembering what happened last time... So you're not singing.

🌿And Tommys very dissapointed. "Quiet this morning little bird," he muses quietly, leaning down behind you, talking right beside your ear, making you jump and blush when you turn around startled by him. He enjoys seeing you startled and made shy by him, if he's being honest he really likes the sight of that, but he apoligises to you anyway, ever the gentlemen and he just like that he tells you he needs someone for a job, he needs a singer... See his little boy has these terrible nightmares since his mother died and well, he needs someone to come and sing to him at night, help him sleep.

🌿"The money'd be good I promise, don't sound like a real job I know but it'd pay like a real job... Better than a real job..."

🌿And how can you refuse when a man tells you his motherless little one isn't sleeping. So you don't even think about the money, completely taken in by Tommys little white lime. Because its Tommy who needs singing to, Tommy who's getting those horrid nightmares...

🌿You start visiting every couple of days, in the evenings for an hour or two, singing littlw Charlie to sleep whilst his father sits over his crib, stroking his hair. You realise that this must be a side to him Tommy doesnt let anyone else see. You start to see him as someone with vulnerabilities, with a tender side, capable of love. Something you've always been told Thomas Shelby is incapable of.

🌿And as time passes you start to realise that it isn't Charlie who struggles to sleep, that its Tommy. And so as time passes you start staying later, pretending you cant tell Charlie's settled, singing until Tommy has fallen asleep too. Sometimes you're there all night singing and then falling asleep ib your chair at the end of Charlies bed, because its too late to walk home alone.

🌿Things between you and Tommy took a long time to blossom but by the time they did you already felt like you knew him so well.

🌿Tommy is the one who brings your confidence out, always telling you how beautiful your voice is, how lovely it is to hear you sing. How you should be singing for people all the time. Before Tommy you didn't really sing for other people but now he's built you up to a place where you're not affraid to sing for others. In fact you often enjoy it.

🌿The night he kissed you for the first time it was late, Charlie had drifted to sleep and you were doing your usual, pretending not to have noticed, keeping up your singing until Tommy drifted off too.

🌿But Tommy had been watching you, tormented by these increasingly affectionate thoughts he'd been having whenever you were around. And he decided to do something that night.

🌿"y/n love, c'mere," he said, he looked sleepy and you were tired too, "Cmon come here, Charlies asleep and you look so lovely tonight, let me dance with you?"

🌿You were shocked but you were secretly thrilled because over the weeks you'd been visiting little Charlie you'd found yourself growing increasingly soft on Tommy. Perhaps it was that tender side you'd been seeing, that no one else saw, but he made you feel all kinds of happy whenever he was around. Everything felt sweeter, warmer, better.

🌿And although you were still shy when his serious eyes fixed on you and you felt him studying you, you had to admit that it thrilled you to be the center of his attention. And lately youd been wondering how it would feel to be held by him. To have him stroke your hair from your face. To have him look at you with that intensity, but from close up instead of from the otherside of the room.

🌿So you did as he asked and you crossed the bedroom floor to him. You gave him your hands and he held your fingers delicately. And when he stood up his hands moved to your waist, smoothing down the fabric of your dress gently, holding your hips.

🌿You didn't know what to do with your hands so he placed them for you, one on his shoulder, one palm flat against his chest.

🌿"Now," he said, "we need music..." he gave you a teasing, knowing smirk, "sing me something sweet angel, somet as sweet as you eh?"

🌿The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife but it was good tension. The atmosphere close and warm, the two of you gentle and sleepy and soft with one another. You felt so shy you has to close your eyes when you began to sing your favourite slow song, one which was really an old scottish lullaby but which could be danced to slowly too.

🌿"Good girl," Tommy lets out a little sigh, kissing your forehead, beginning to dance you slowly, rocking you. When his lips brush your cheek you open your eyes, look up at him like a doe in the headlights. You've thought about what it would be like to be kissed by him too but this is nothing like anything you could have ever imagined.

🌿Him telling you your songs beautiful as he leans in to kiss you on the lips, your mouths meeting and the two of you suddenly realising that this was something you should have done much much sooner.

🌿And when the kiss deepened and the two of you felt the moment heating up, the swell of need for him, and his for you, almost catching you both by surprise, he lifted you up off your feet and carried you to his bedroom.

🌿Now naturally, you'd stopped singing, your mouth a little occupied... However as he dips to kiss your neck, your collar bones and your chest, as he begins to undress you carefully, delicately, he asks you not to stop singing.

🌿"Keep singing angel," he murmurs to you between kisses, and he keeps repeating himself, even when youre undressing him, even when hes lifted you up off your feet and your legs are wrapped around him. Even as he slips into your for the first time, taking it slow and gentle, yoir voice shaking, your melody interrupted by your breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly...

🌿He'll sing to you too sometimes and he has a far lovelier voice than you imagined he would. His voice is low and just a little rusty/misty sounding. It has that sweet woody tone to it. He'll sing to you when you're sad or scared.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie didn't know you could sing for a long time. It was something which, he'd always imagined you probably could do, because your low voice was always so sweet and resonant even when you spoke, but when he overhears you singing he has to say, he's surprised.

🐻And it niggles at him too, he's almost a little annoyed you've never sang to him, you don't even sing around him, not even in the evenings when he's got the wireless on.

🐻 He probably gets a bit grumpy about it as if he thinks youve been keeping your beautiful singing a secret from him on purpose.

🐻 But in reality you're just shy, and you don't think you do have a beautiful singing voice. You definitely don't think its beautiful enough to warrant singing for other people as if you believe yourself to be something special...

🐻 But Alfie stands just the otherside of the kitchen doorway listening to you sing as you kneed your bread dough. Thinks your voice is the most enchanting sound he's ever heard and he loves it.

🐻 Pretends not to like it, just to tease you, he comes into the kitchen behind you, grumbling and chuntering away. "Now whats all this racket then, whats all this... This noise bloody awful noise right keepin me awake..." but he can't keep his trick up for very long at all, not when you look mortified, wide eyes and imediately apologising over and over.

🐻He has to laugh, he can't believe you believe him for a start. But he feels guilty for teasing you and immediately opens his arms up to you, hugs you and kisses your cheek.

🐻"I'm only teasing zieskiet, obviously I'm only teasing you... As a matter of fact yeah, your little song you were singing just now, well, as a matter of fact my dear that was the most beautiful little song my fussy old ears, have ever been fuckin blessed to hear..."

🐻 Alfie thinks your voice is so inspiring, and he's a lover of music himself, a lover of the arts, he always tells you you should be singing on stages, in operas, for an audience with the knowledge, the cultured palette to appreciate you.

🐻You're his muse when he starts writing his opera, in fact your voice alone is half the reason he has for trying to write it in the first place. He wants to write an opera fittinf of youe glorious voice. But whenever he asks you to sing for him, whenever he asks you to inspire him, you just get shy and you try to hide away.

🐻And you always tease him to, reminding him, "I thought my singing was just a bloody great racket..." you'll refuse to sing for him just to watch him get grumpy and grumbly and then you'll giggle and sing for him running your fingers through his hair or his beards.

🐻 And you'll sing little love songs, tell him you wrote them for him and he'll get a little embarassed. "Don't know what you're wasting your time writing songs about me for zieskiet... Just an old man..." "My old man..."

🐻 He writes arias for you to sing and tries to get you to sing for other people but you won't do it. Your voice is something you trust only Alfie with, and he grows comfortable with that, begins to feel like he wouldn't want it any other way. Your voice is this precious secret that you share, something so precious you'll only give it to him.

🐻 Calls for you to come sit in his lap when its late and hes just come home from the office or that late night business that always sees him come home with blood on his hands. He sits himself down at the kitchen table or in his big armchair by the fire and he calls for you to come to him.

🐻 "Zieskiet my precious angel come sit down with your old man, it's been a fuckin godless day and he's tired..." and you go to him, let him pull you down into his lap, let him bundle you up in his arms, kiss you and growl into your neck. Running his hands over your waist, squeezing you possesively.

🐻 Holds your face in his hands and looks up at you, into your eyes with his own, which are so cold and steely for everyone but you. For you theyre molten, soft and dark and full of adoration.

🐻 "Sing me a song zieskiet, one with a sad little story right? One where the hero dies somet tragic yeah... Will you do that for your old man yeah, sing him a nice fuckin tragedy?"

🐻 Because he's a strange eccentric he will absolutely send Ollie or someone running half way across the city to find you having been told its an emergency, a serious fuckin emergency.

🐻 And when you get to the office Alfies just frowning, "Ah zieskiet, poppet thank the heavens you are here... Finally..." "What is it Alf, whats the matter?" "Ive tuned in and out of this bloody wireless yeah, and I've searched this whole bloody box of records yeah, ain't any fuckin music anywhere to be found..."

🐻 He really scared you half to death, had you running across the city with Ollie, just so you could sing him his favourite song.

Arthur

🍂 You've never really thought of yourself as particularly musically gifted and you don't really think your voice is anything special, however you love to sing and sing all the time. You adore music, you use it for emotional regulation, you hate to sit in silence. You hum when youre nervous, when you're happy, when you're sad you listen to sad songs and you sing along and pretend that your pain is just as bad as the pain of the man singing about his dead love.

🍂 And its something Arthurs always loved about you. How you're always singing, how you brighten a room with your good mood and your happy humming. How when things get tense and the kids need soothing and distracting, you're there to sooth them with a little song.

🍂 You teach Johns kids and Charlie and Ruby little songs, nursery rhymes, or songs to learn the alphabet and how to count. Songs to learn the days and the months. Arthur loves how you have a song for everything.

🍂 Its just something that makes you so different from everyone else in his life. You're so sweet and goodhearted and you're never too serious and your singing puts him at ease. He loves to listen to you and it always leaves him feeling warm and good inside when you sing.

🍂 When hes stressed out he'll ask you to sing for him and thats the only time you ever feel self concious, when he asks you to sing just for him and you can tell that hes depending on you for something. Then you question whether you're really good enough at singing... Because you know he'll actually be listening and expecting to hear something beautiful.

🍂 He likes to share a bath with you, share some wine, share some snow and then have you sing whilst you massage his shoulders. Loves when you wash his hair and sing for him, when you sing soft and low and sweetly in his ear, just for him. It makes him feel so safe and pure.

🍂 You sing to him to calm him when he's struggling to come down from one of those raging adrenaline rushes triggered by his PTSD. When hes having flashbacks you sing to him and hold his hand, kiss his temple. It helps to keep him grounded, helps him to stay on this plain in this reality instead of getting lost in a bad memory.

🍂You sing to him when youre cleaning his wounds, when youre washing other men's blood from his hands, scrubbing his nails and singing soothing little songs to calm him, to let him know you still love him, still think he deserves to be sung to. To be treated like a human.

🍂 He has favourite songs he'll ask for. And sometimes if youre singing and he doesn't feel like the kids are grateful enough that you sing to them he'll tell them to hush up and listen to you, "Dont know how lucky you are gettin to hear your aunty y/n sing for you like that, other kids would kill to have someone so beautiful singin to them!"

🍂Actually can get grumpy if he doesn't think other people appreciate your singing enough.

John

🌼 Is such a git and teases you relentless about your singing because you sing to yourself all the time.

🌼 "eh up that crazy lass from Watery Lanes singin to herself again, what a looney..." he's only joking but he doesn't know when a jokes stopped being funny, or that hes taking the joke too far.

🌼 Doesn't realise you think he's being serious or at least means it a little bit when he says its embarassing the way you wander round singing to yourself all the time, "whole of Birminghams gonna think you're losing the plot flower, gonna think you've gone nuts..."

🌼 So after awhile his jokes get to you and you take his thoughtless teasing to heart. You stop singing, or you try anyway. Its an old habbit and it dies hard and slow, so slow that John doesn't notice how you're singing less and less, or how sometimes you'll be singing to yourself but you'll stop just as he walks into a room.

🌼 Basically he's oblivious to the damage hes done until its too late and you really have stopped singing completely. Now you don't even really sing to yourself and its his fault...

🌼 Then one day he realises how quiet it is, how quiet you are and he gets upset, suddenly really worried for you.

🌼 "Y/N lass whats going on eh? You're upset or somets happened? Am not stupid I can tell..." but he is stupid, hes a stupid fuckin dinlow because even now he doesnt realise whats really the matter. When you tell him nothing is wrong, that everythings fine he argues back and says

🌼 "No, nah somethings not right flower, you don't sing anymore or anything, you're so quiet..."

🌼 You look at him, a little bit confused, a little bit wounded. "Thought you didn't like my singin...why do you care if I don't sing anymore?" you sound more sullen than you think you do and suddenly John knows exactly why you've stopped singing and he feels like such a fucking idiot.

🌼 "Oh bloody hell," he sighs, getting annoyed with himself for being an idiot. "Fuck sake, I'm sorry love..."

🌼 Tells you that he loves your singing and always has, that its one of his favourite things about you and thats the whole reason he used to tease you for it. Because he loves it so much he just thought that it was obvious he was only teasing.

🌼 So then he has to chip away at you the other direction, teasing you until you're singing for him again. Because obviously John isnt going to learn the error of his daft, boyish ways.

🌼 And finally you relent and give in and sing a little love song for him which has you both blushing.

🌼 His favourite thing which he used to love watching was how you'd gather all the wains up in your bed with you at night and if a story wasn't working to send them all off to sleep, you'd sing lullabyes for them.

🌼 He liked climbing into bed with you and the children and getting cosy, one big happy family, all huggled up together whilst you sang for them.

🌼 When one of the wains starts singing and copying you, singing with you sometimes John is overwhelmed with pride and he loves it. Loves you for teaching his littlens something he could never have taught them himself.

🌼Will get jealous if its been a long day and all he wants is to spend a little alone time with his girl, but he can't get anywhere near you because the kids want you to sing for them. He'll end up packing them all off to bed with the promise of one last song and then when finally its just you and him he'll tease you, singing your song back to you, making fun until youre giggling and blushing and actually getting quite wound up by him.

🌼 Then hes all kisses and grabbing you, pulling you close, singing and kissing you all over until youre laughing too much to fight him anymore.

Bonnie

🍀Has always loved to listen to music, ever since he was a little boy. And because you grew up together travelling around, hes always known you could sing. Always loved listening to you sing.

🍀Once when you were a little girl one of the older lads teased you about your singing voice telling you to shut up, telling you it wasnt cool to sing, it was cool to know how to hunt and do manly things. And little Bonnie threw a rock at him, "You shut up dinlow!"

🍀He didn't win that fight and in fact he got into a fair bit of bother for throwing that rock at one of the Boswell boys. A lot of trouble actually, more than it was worth as far as youre concerned.

🍀You didn't stop singing, you were a smart girl and you knew that most of the time the boys that said mean things to you were only doing it because they were daft and didn't know how to speak to girls. Had to be mean because they were scared of pretty lassies.

🍀Thats what Bonnie always told you anyway.

🍀Now you're much older and Bonnie is your boy, your champion, and you still sing all the time. You sing to the wains when you're helping to look after them. You sing when you're doing your chores, doing the washing in the stream, preparing the meat when the lads come back from hunting.

🍀You often sing around the fire in the evening when the men get their instruments out and some of the others dance with their wives and children. You'll sing at funerals too, when everyone needs a sad song to fill the silence whilst you watch the flames burning and the remember those who have passed.

🍀Sometimes Bonnie watches you with the youngens, when youre singing your lullabies to the babies, rocking them to sleep... He can't help but imagine you singing to his babies one day. Sometimes watching you singing with the children gets him in the mind that he wants to give you children sooner rather than later.

🍀Has definitely told you this too, he isn't shy about it. Will kiss your cheek and your neck, nibble your ear and then say something about how he's gonna have you singing lullabies to babies of your own in no time at all.

🍀He's a superstitious lad, has his pre fight routines... And the most important is that you come to his changing room, that just you and him get at least a minute or two alone for you to sing his lucky song to him whilst you wrap his hands up. He'll close his eyes and focus on your voice, how pure and pretty it is, he'll slow his breathing, get himself in the zone and then he'll kiss your cheek, give you one of his cheeky over confident winks, and off he goes to fight like a champion yet again.

🍀Teases you, says one day you'll be singing folk songs about bonnie Bonnie Gold champion of the world.

🍀 Fond of a post fuck lullaby, loves to hold you in his arms and listen to one of your sweet little songs. Loves to feel the vibration of your voice in his chest when you're resting on top of him.

🍀 He thinks of your singing when hes scared. He doesnt really get scared so easily, he enjoys most of the work he does for the blinders, doesn't really mind the killing, he's always been very laidback about those sorts of things, always been very calm. But sometimes when he's in a dangerous situation and he's realising quite how dangerous what he's doing is, when he realises he might not get out of a place alive, he remembers one of your songs, pictures you singing in a field or by the fire or with the wains, or how sometimes you sing just for him in the middle of the night, and the thought calms him.

🍀When he's injured after a fight, or after a blinder job that went wrong, and he can see that you're scared by the sorry state of him, he'll force you an easy smile and ask you to sing for him. Partly because he knows it'll give you something to focus on instead of powerlessly worrying, and partly because he'll take any excuse to hear that gorgeous voice of yours. "Pretty as bird song in the morning dove, thats how your singin sounds...."

🍀 Bonnie can definitely sing and he definitely sings for you, little lullabys and sad ancient folk songs with mysterious stories threaded into them. He'll lie with you under a tree at the edge of misty moorlands and sing to you a little irish lament about a girl who went wandering into the mist to find her lover never to return again. He'll tell you she haunts the moores and then he'll tease you when he scares you with his little ghost songs.

Isaiah

🐀You're the life of a party when you sing down the Garrison and Isaiah is always glad to be able to see you dancing and singing spreading joy, stirring high spirits.

🐀He's also pretty pleased because it was him who told the Shelbys to hire you as a barmaid, told them you were a wonderful singer and that you'd have the place buzzing and busy all night.

🐀And its true, you have the power to pick exactly the right song and get every man up to the bar or dancing with his lass or remembering times gone by. You're a real crowd pleaser thats for sure and Isaiah is very proud to have found you. Always tells Tommy "you owe me for that Tommy, my girls the main reason this place stays open..."

🐀But Isaiah has a jealous streak and he doesn't like watching the way the other men at the Garrison admire you. Hates to see other men falling in love with his lass, falling for your voice and the pretty songs you sing, the bright light which seems to radiate from you when you smile through the notes of a happy song.

🐀So he spends half the night planning how he'll get you alone, soothing his jealousy with thoughts of what he'll do when he finally gets you alone and he can tease you and touch you, kiss you all he likes without feeling jealous eyes on him.

🐀Taking you into the private booth and locking the little door so that its just you and him and you can't be disturbed. You getting flustered because he's just stolen you from the floor and you're supposed to be working.

🐀"Saiah whatre you doing, theres pints to pull! You'll get me in trouble..." "Nah love, ain't gettin in any trouble if you're with me, am a blinder aren't I..." winking at you being cheeky, teasing you and pulling you into his lap, holding you there one hand on your hip, one holding your chin and stearing you to loom at him.

🐀"Sing me a song love, one thats just for me..." he says giving you a needy little stare, his eyes fixed on yours, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He enjoys seeing you blush, seeing you get a little shy. That shy smile so beautiful. "Sing us a song thats just for me and promise you'll never sing it for anyone else yeah.."

🐀So you do, and you promise you'll never sing it for anyone else, so it becomes your song. When you get married its the song you share your first dance to.

🐀At home, and only when no one else is with you he'll join in your songs and dance you around the kitchen or the bedroom, only interrupting your melody when he can't keep his lips from your lips any longer.

🐀You can tell his jealousy and how possesive he is over you and you love it, and you want him to know that you love it and you love him, so you write him little love songs and laments and you sing them for him in that private booth at the Garrison or in bed when the house is quiet and the streets outside are hushed by the late late night sky.

🐀He LOVES your little love songs and he can't even begin to express the effect they have on him. Hearing the words you wrote for him, hearing a whole song inspired by him... Its incredible and it stokes his ego but it also makes him feel so loved...

🐀Theres also probably something precious to Isaiah about the fact that you admire him and think hes good enough to be the subject of a song because obviously racism is aggressively prevalent in 1920s birmingham and he spends a lot of time very aware that if it wasnt for his peaky cap and even despite his peaky cap, there are many who would think him unworthy even of acknowledgement. So the fact that the love of his life is writing pretty little songs about how much they adore him, how handsome he is, how he makes their whole world turn... Well, he feels very proud and very honored and touched and he never quite knows how to express it.

🐀Tries to write you one too but it ends up being a silly little ditty that ends with something dirty that makes you blush and laugh and climb straight into bed with him.

Michael

☘️ There are many parts of himself Michael keeps secret. All the things he thinks people might think him a "soft lad" for.

☘️ One of these is that he can sing beautifully. His adopted mother used to play piano and have him and his brother sing hymns from church.

☘️His mother knows he can sing too, she makes him sing for her when she's worried, when the voices of the dead are too loud or painful to listen to. When shes unwell and suffering. Michael will sing for her but he'll be sullen and embarassed and he'll berrate her for even asking it of him.

☘️ The other hidden secret is that he loves to be sung to sleep. He loves to lie with you, him between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your belly as you comb your fingers through his hair and sing him a soft soothing melody.

☘️Probably because he has mummy issues. He loves to be spoiled and taken care of like that, to be treated gently.

☘️After the Changretta hit on him, when he's in the hospital, you visit him every day, you're so worried about him but he's got glad to have his "little songbird" with him to sing for him and keep him from killing himself from the boredom of being cooped up like that.

☘️He asks you to sing songs for him whilst you change his bandages and wash his wounds. He likes the distraction from the pain and he tells you you have a healing voice. Tells you its a gift, that you were a gift sent to him from some higher power.

☘️If you want to sing professionally, which michael will definitely encourage, he will pull the strings to get you singing in tge fanciest hotels, to have you climb the ladder to stardom. Partially because he wants to see you happy and will do anything to keep you happy, but also partially because it feeds his ego and makes him feel powerful to have a famous girlfriend, one who is admired by so many for her beautiful voice. You're a real star, shining bright, and you're all his. No one elses.

☘️He keeps his own talent hidden from you for a long long time because he's worried you'll think him less of a man, worried you'll think he's soft. But one day, the day your father dies, you're so distraught, exhausted from all your grief, and michael wants to help you so he holds you in his arms and strokes your hair, rocks you gently and sings you to sleep.

☘️He doesnt think youll remember, thinks you'll have forgotten it because you were in such a state, but you remember how beautifully he sang and when you ask him about it he gets so self concious and blushes and tries to deny it.

☘️ "Must have been imagining it sweetheart I can't sing..."

☘️You beg him to sing to him again, and again and again...

☘️And finally he gives in, says that if you'll sing him a song he will join in. And you sound really lovely together and you can't keep the smiles off your faces.

☘️When you have children michael sings them these lowly lullabies and you love to fall asleep holding the baby in your arms, the both of you lulled to sleep by daddy.

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 9

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

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

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing 

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 8

Chains, bloodied and graced with torn rotting flesh, moulding in the light of the wanning moon, dangled in all directions in the howling wind. Bones cracked under polished shoes freckled by grime and coated with rotting leaves. The lightbulbs among the broken were shining faintly, breaking the doom, the utter darkness ruling in the endless corridor leading into different vacant rusty halls.

The wind was howling, a lonely wolf, a hound greeting the full moon. Water dripped through the holey ceiling of metal and musty wood. The old building, far away from civilisation, with shattered windows barricaded by boards was surrounded.

The man clothed in a form-fitting suit didn’t bear a map, didn’t need a compass to find the right path. The faint stench of mould lingered in the stiff air. Rats fled in great haste, screeched and warned the brothers hiding in the holes in the ground and empty chests. A few dark grey strands illuminated the dark sea. Untroubled Thomas followed the path. His fingers tapped against the polished metal. He did not put his gaze over his shoulder, focused on the light showing the end of the tunnel. Deep hush voices exchanged brief words and the grin on his lips widened, thought of ways to harm the men who had dared to touch his wife.

Thomas tilted his head. The light hit the tip of his shoes, but the Shelby, a demon, the devil himself waiting patiently, remained in the shadows. Deftly, he leapt to the side, hiding behind the cargo crates stacked high from India, Africa and the far East. Footsteps echoed and a soft whimper, a kitten, a newborn calling for its mother, fell silent. More men, dark dressed creatures, followed the order with drawn weapons and waited for the signal. Thomas leaned forward, peering through the crack between the crates. Two men, shabbily dressed, stood in the light of the flickering yellowish bulb, but his keen eyes couldn’t find the source of the whimper.

            “The money?” the thinner one pecked, wiping the oil from his fingers on his trousers.

The taller one laughed, folding his arms in front of his bulging chest. 

            “The woman will pay us off. I called her. By the end of the day, we’ll get the money.”, “We should have killed his wife right away,” the other said, leaning against the cargo boxes.

            “Karl, I would have killed her, but the other guy came. We would have died otherwise. I know him, Solomons. He would have killed us,” he interjected.

            “And what are we supposed to do now, Jimmy?” Karl questioned.

            “And what will happen to us, Karl?” Jim asked.

Karl shrugged his shoulders. Eyes widened in shock, screams followed, bullets pierced flesh and grazed bones. Men in suits stormed the old run-down complex, a tsunami swallowing villages and towns. Closely followed by his men, Thomas entered the room, stepped closer with his gun drawn, fired and hit the bull’s eye, ran ahead, searched and cursed, but didn’t find the woman. Sweat cascaded his face, turned, and hoped the men could answer his questions, but the eyes had paled. Cursing, Thomas stared at his brothers opening the crates in the hope of finding Peggy in one of them.

            “Where is she?” Arthur asked, heaving.

John cursed, nearly fell into the crate. Perplexed, he stared into the distance, cursed under his breath, turned with paled features towards his brothers and mumbled a short prayer.

            The moon wandered on, over land and mountains, on and on, climbing hills and swimming over lakes and raging streams. Under the cover of the moon, ghastly shadows crept forth. Light burned in the mansion far away from civilisation, from towns and villages. The vehicles parked in front of the mansion were not neatly lined up. Curtains were drawn and didn’t allow to witness the people warming themselves by the flames, gnawing on the hardened biscuits and awakening the sense with the dark unsweetened liquid. The phone didn’t ring, and the bell didn’t announce a guest.

The clock was ticking, heels clicked against the creaking hardwood. Voices had died down, the women did not chatter as the gentle voice breathing delicate word into the microphone sang of love and gentle kisses. The women exchanged meaningless glances, glanced at the man they thought would never enter the house, who had settled down by the fireplace and was leafing through the book with his legs crossed, staring again and again at the doors and windows in search of grim faces pursued by evil intentions. Y/N warmed her fingers on the cup filled with tea and dipped her tongue in the warm liquid.

            “Don’t worry, they will be here soon. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, my dear.” Ada breathed.

She flashed the shaking woman a smile, breathed encouraging words, but they couldn’t banish the fear from her heart.

            “They’ve been gone for a long time. At least three hours now.” Y/N breathed.

            “You worry too much Y/N/N. The Shelby can take something. If he’s not here by seven, then we’ll go looking for him together.” Alfie joked.

Y/N stretched her arms into the air. Sleep gnawed on her bones and the voice in her head assured her that all would be well, that Thomas was on his way back, that the door would open soon and he would stand with Peggy and a promise to change by her side. She counted the seconds, focused on the clock, yet Y/N had lost track of time and space a long time ago. Her eyes widened. The tiredness was gone with the wind. Groaning, Y/N jumped and threw the blanket away. A wall, the last wall of defence rose in front of her and a palm settled on her back.

            “Come, little one. We will go together. You stay here. I have everything under control. I saw a car.” Alfie said.

Y/N tried to argue, telling him to stay with the others, that she wanted to go alone, but no words crossed her lips and nodded. Alfie smiled, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, stuffed his gun into the pocket, and guided Y/N away from the richly set table. Keys jingled. Alfie pushed Y/N behind him, but the young woman went ahead. The cold air brushed her skin and painted her cheeks. Brows almost touched. Y/N looked questioningly at Peggy, shook her head, and lips parted.

            “Peggy?” Y/N whispered, not believing her eyes, convinced she was about to awake from a dream.

She looked healthy. Not a drop of blood clung to the long white evening dress, looked like a woman on her way to church to walk down the aisle. The hair was laid in curls, dotted with pearls and glass shaped in tears. The bouquet, white and red flowers fell to the ground. A smile, false as a fox’s, sweet as a snake’s voice, spread on her lips.

            “You’re well?” Y/N questioned.

            “Why shouldn’t I be well? I am glad to see that you are well. I see nothing happened to you while I was away. I told you to wait for me at home. I could never have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to you.” Peggy spoke coldly, stoically, emotionlessly.

            “Where’s Thomas? He’s out looking for you. I was worried about you.” Y/N uttered.

Spreading her arms, Y/N wanted to enclose Peggy in a tight hug, but fingers clawed deep into the thin material covering her, forcing her to stagger backwards.

            “Alfie, can you please let go of me?’ Y/N demanded.

Y/N turned and stubbornly demanded to be let free, but Alfie shook his head.

            “Why do you have to make everything more complicated? Get in there and don’t do anything stupid or you’ll all regret it. Are we clear?”, “I wouldn’t do that.” Alfie interjected. He removed his hand from the pistol and rose his hands into the air after he pulled Y/N closer to his chest.

            “Peggy?” Y/N breathed, hoped the person bore a mask, but it was Peggy.

Colour drained from her features. Cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Bloodshot eyes forced Alfie to step back and told him not to dare to waste a single thought about doing something he might regret. Questions nor curses crossed Y/N´s lips pressed into a fine line. A lonely tear cascaded down her left cheek and left a red burning mark on her skin. Y/N questioned her life, every decision she had made, every word and complain she had said to Peggy in hope she would aid her. Synchronically, Ada and Polly arose, aimed, but no shots pierced the air. Peggy chased Alfie away to stand by the wall and he listened and placed the weapon on the ground as the women as Peggy stood tall behind the crumbling shield.

            “Why?” Y/N inquired, her heart bursting through skin and bone.

Peggy laughed and combed through Y/N´s locks with her long light-coloured nails.

            “I should be in your place. It would have been so easy. But those idiots let you get away and then you were at my door and I just had to let you in. I called these fools. I knew they would be at the bar, and informed them that you were with me, that they should walk in and take care of you. I then set off here, wanting to inform all of you that something might have happened to Y/N. I would have taken your place, but this man had to interfere with my plan.” Peggy joked.

Her bloodshot eyes slid from one person to another and pointing her finger at the tall man settling down on the armchair by the crackling fire.

            “How would you have done it? The Shelby wouldn’t have to believe you. Nobody would have.” Alfie questioned, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

            “Nobody? Suddenly everybody was searching for Y/N. When I returned home, she was gone. I am a good actress, I had classes when I was young and played in the theatre, always the evil and wicked,” the woman huffed.

She chuckled.

            “Thomas would have believed me. I would have played the good friend, helping him through this rough path. I just wanted to play the worried friend. I would have helped to find Y/N and then after a good month the case would have gone cold. The postman would have brought a letter from overseas and the problem would have been solved. Thomas would have found a good friend in me and later a wife,” she sneered.

            “But they trashed your house.” Y/N breathed, eliciting a malicious laugh from the mad woman.

            “I was a bit angry and had to let my anger run free. My plan was perfect.” she huffed, stroking Y/N’s skin with the weapon.

            “You wanted to kill me?” Y/N breathed.

            “No one cared about you, you told me everything, your former husband barely cared about you, you slept alone, spent your days alone, were air for everyone, I didn’t expect anyone to care about you.” Peggy laughed.

Y/N gulped, nodded, and breathed a soft prayer, prayed for the safety of all of them a few steps away from her.

            “A confident woman. Why would I marry you?” a deep voice sneered.

Smiling, Peggy turned around, fixed her hair and let go of Y/N, but she was rooted into the ground, turning into a statue overgrown by moss.

            “All these months you’ve been using me.” Y/N

The veil fell, and the wind carried away the dense mist. Y/N balled her hands into fists, nails bore deep into the soft flesh, but no sound escaped her lips. She faced Peggy, unfearful of the weapon in her right hand.

            “You never told me to give Thomas a chance, to at least try to get along with him. You never said anything nice about him. When he gave me flowers or chocolate, you told me he’d cheated on me and feared I would find out.” Y/N whispered, her voice raising with every fallen word.

She remembered the forgotten, the lonely nights, the long calls, the endless hours spend in the small room and crying her heart out to the wrong person, hoping Peggy would help her like only a friend could.

            “We spoke on the phone when Thomas didn’t come back that evening and instead of telling me that he must be working but you swore on your parents’ lives that you saw him in the arms of a woman.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N faced her friend, unfaced and untroubled by the loaded gun.

            “I suppose that was a lie, too. Probably everything you told me was a lie,” Y/N whispered.

She remembered the nights she was pouring out her heart and the answers that were as false as the snake’s words. She raised her eyes and looked up at Thomas. The man swallowed, saw the questions in his wife’s eyes and smiled.

            “I was never unfaithful, Y/N. I was a terrible husband, but I was always faithful to you,” Thomas assured her.

            “I believe you,” Y/N whispered, but Thomas had heard the answer.

Y/N advanced, oblivious to the woman in the wedding garment, wanting to go towards her husband, but Peggy made it impossible for her to do so, getting in the way.

            “Enough of this sweet talk.” Peggy chuckled.

Metal dazzled the eyes. She grabbed Y/N by the collar, scratched her skin, pressed her tightly against him. And the men and women, apart from Thomas, recoiled with their hands up. Thomas stashed his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, guessing what she would demand.

            “You let me out and nothing will happen to her.” Peggy requested.

The Shelby nodded, exchanged brief glances with his brothers.

            “Good, go, you know the way. You hand Y/N over to me at the door. I leave my gun here and you put yours away. Do we understand each other?” Thomas spoke.

            “I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands here, Thomas, but I’ll take your offer. But I want them out of here. I want them all out of here in the kitchen.” Peggy interjected.

Thomas gestured to his siblings to leave, nodding, indicating that they should be on their way, that they shouldn’t worry, but his eyes betrayed him. Slowly, they rose from the sofa and did as Thomas ordered them again to leave. Heels clicked against the hardwood. Hush voices exchanged words, and the door slammed shut.

            “Can we go?” Thomas probed.

Thomas walked ahead, showed the way, paused at the open door, pushed it wide open and motioned the woman to leave. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to free Y/N from the woman’s clutches, heard the soft whimpering as Peggy grabbed her former friend. Teeth gritted. Peggy stopped and turned with Y/N.

            “Here you go.” she shoved Y/N in his direction.

Y/N staggered forward, threatening to fall like a soldier, but arms wrapped tightly around her body, pressing her tightly to his chest. Thomas breathed loving words into her ear, pressed his dried lips on her skin and pressed featherlight kisses on her cheek. He murmured a prayer and begged for her forgiveness. Sweat danced down his face. He pressed another fleeting kiss on her temple. Thomas put his hands over her ears, deafening her to the screams and bullets piercing the air and suddenly, after all this time filled with screams and prayers, silence reigned over the land.

TagList:

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