#michael x isaiah

[warnersister]

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

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

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.

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

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

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

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

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

🍺then you spotted it; the sundress

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.

🥃a bit of normality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John

🥊cannot keep his hands off of you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥊He was being extremely difficult

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

♟️haha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom

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

♟️and on the sofa

♟️and the kitchen table

♟️and then bedroom

♟️(you never took the dress off)

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there

🎱loved how it looks on you

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

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

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

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

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

🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎱he was there soon thereafter.

🎱and he was fucking seething.

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

🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.

🎱how dare you wear that dress?

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

🎱but tonight was different

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aberama🌞

🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌞his gorgeous bride.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌞make your skin fucking crawl.

[obsessedwithhotmen]

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

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) multiple characters x reader

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

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

Aberama Gold:

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

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

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

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

⇾ His eyes would never stray away from you face.

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ada Shelby:

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

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

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

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

⇾ There is no such thing as teasing Ada Shelby.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur Shelby:

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

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

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

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

⇾ Obsessed with making you gag.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie Gold:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn Shelby:

⇾ My shy boy.

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

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

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

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

⇾ Will always give you head in return.

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah Jesus:

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

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

⇾ A man of teasing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Shelby:

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

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

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

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

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

⇾ “Come on, on your knees.”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael Gray:

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

Thomas Shelby:

⇾ not nice at all, never nice.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

[pacifymebby]

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

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

Slight nsfw in some places.

Tommy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌿 Yes, Tommy thinks horses cure everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aberama

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist

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

[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme

Thomas Shelby x fem! german! soldier! oc

summary: Thomas and his brothers returned from war alive but scarred for live. Just when the memories start to fade and normality returns to Small Heath, a young woman with pierced upper ears appeared. She came for a reason to Small Heath, to take revenge for what was done to her during the war. How far is she wiling to go to reach her goal? What role will the youngest of the Shelby brothers play in what is to come?

includes: SMUT 18+, age-gap, mention of death, mention of gore, mention of SA, mention of war

parts:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

[cloveroctobers]

PART iii.

Here you’ll find all works written during the final month of the year for 2023 🌲🗻🧣🛷

𝑀𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉…𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝒸𝑒?

ISAIAH HOWARD > Love More = Goosebumps (2023)

EVAN “BUCK” BUCKLEY > New Years Yet? = 911 on abc

MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO > Purple snowflakes = The Bear

NERON “CREEPER” VARGAS > Greatest Gift = Mayans MC

SETH CLEARWATER > Best Damn thing = Twilight (2008)

5 Days of X-MAS started: Dec. 11th 2023 — Dec. 31st 2023

FEBRUARY FLUFF! 2024 ♡

1. EVERGREEN > Carmy Berzatto = The Bear

2. SOLDIER OF LOVE > Manny x Happy Lowman = Mayans MC + SOA

3. I LOVE YOU > Juice Ortiz = Sons of Anarchy

4. LOVE IS BLIND > Matt Casey, Brian “Otis” Zvonecek, Kelly Severide, & Joe Cruz = Chicago Fire

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[idksmtms]

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy Shelby

Request: The Comeback - (Tommy Shelby x reader, Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess)

After Grace shoots Detective Campbell and runs away, Tommy ends up marrying you to further Shelby Company LTD. He doesn't expect life with you to be as amazing as it is. Nor does he expect Grace to return...

Arthur Shelby

Coming soon...

John Shelby

Coming soon...

Alfie Solomons

Coming soon...

Michael Gray

Coming soon...

(you can hate someone and still want to fuck them - what can I say, I love a dickhead man apparently)

Isaiah Jesus

Coming soon...

Luca Changretta

Coming soon...

(Bc I love Adrien Brody, what can I say?)

NGL, I could be tempted to write for Uncle Jack bc evil or not he was kinda hot...

Also could write for Aberama and Bonnie!

[call-sign-shark]

The Month of Sin Masterpost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 4: AFTER CARE with Finn

• with May

Day 5: ROPE BUNNY with Arthur

Day 6: DRUNK with Tommy

Day 7: BLINDFOLD with John

• with Aberama

Day 8: CREAMPIE with John

Day 9: PRAISE with Bonnie

Day 10: SIZE with Alfie

• with Luca

Day 11: POWER with Michael

Day 12: ORAL with Bonnie

Day 13: BREEDING with Alfie

Day 14: BLOOD with Tommy

Day 15: TAMED with Arthur

Day 16: DENIAL with Tommy

Day 17: DADDY with Michael

• with Aberama

• with Alfie

• with Arthur

Day 18: PUBLIC with John

Day 19: THREESOME with Tommy and ??

Day 20: LEASH with Arthur

Day 21: KNIFE with Isaiah

Day 22: STRIP with John

Day 23: OVERSTIMULATION with Tommy

Day 24: CAR with Tommy

Day 25: PUNISHMENT with John

Day 26: WORSHIP with Luca

Day 27: BEGGING with Tommy

Day 28: CORRUPTION with Arthur

Day 29: BLASPHEMY with Arthur

Day 30: AGE GAP - Tangled Desires

[themultifandomgal]

Ok so looks like the majority want more Tommy imagines. I’ll get to work. That doesn’t mean though I won’t be writing for the other, just not as much.

Ok next question is who do you want more imagines of out of the following people. This poll is only up for a day this time.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 30: Pretend

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Back at Arrow House the gathering seems to split up into two groups: Grace’s side and Thomas’ side. On one side stands cheerful grins and partying hooligans. The other has tight-smiling women and military uniforms. I don’t belong here. And as much as she pretends Grace doesn’t think so either.

“Verena? Why are you back here?” 

My hiding spot in the kitchen has been discovered. Why does Finn get more grown up every time I see him?

“Sorry, Finn. Not feeling too social. I hardly know anyone here!”

“That can be fixed.” He points to the party going on outside.

“Polite pass. I shouldn’t really be here, you know.” I hold up a gift basket. “My father’s sent me here with fresh whiskey as gifts for the newlyweds. His regards for your hospitality.”

The youngest Shelby joins me on the stone steps. “Even so, what’s important is that you’re here. It’s been two years. We all missed you.” He nudges my shoulder. “Again.”

“I know, I know. But there’s nothing else tying me here anymore. Polly argued with Thomas to let me stay but he says my debt has been paid. If I stick around it’s of my own accord and that would look very suspicious.”

“You can still work for Shelby Brothers Limited,” Finn suggests.

“No offense, but I want to establish my life around a career that’s not illegal.”

He shows mock offense to my words. “That’s not true. We’ve weeded out most of the illegal rubbish.”

“Oi! Finn! Where’d you go off to?”

Finn hops to his feet. “That’s Jackson! Be right back!”

He runs out to join his friend and I’m left alone in the drafty kitchen. Wearing a wrinkled blue dress, sipping watered down whiskey, and thinking about broken dreams. Is this how Thomas feels when he’s depressed?

Footsteps alert my attention to the back door just in time to see John walk in. “Finn said I’d find you here.”

My brow furrows in frustration and I have to look down. “I’m- I shouldn’t be here, John. Everyone can see it. I’m the oddball American. I can’t go unnoticed because people always look at me funny when I speak.”

I hear him walk over and he kneels next to me. “Verena, you do need to be here. For all of us. Tommy was so happy when he heard you were coming. Now, before you say anything, I do admit even I’m disappointed it’s not you walking down the aisle.” He speaks faster when he sees my shock. “But please understand that you being here is important. And the bit about you being American? Flaunt it! It’s what makes you. You’re proud of your heritage, eh?”

My posture straightens and I set my jaw firm. “Without question.”

He pats my back. “Then don’t let those stuffy sods get you down. Here, drink this.”

I gratefully take the shot. “L’Chaim. Now I should go give my best wishes to the happy couple instead of just hiding in the kitchen-”

“Not quite yet,” John makes me sit back down. “Tommy’s holding a meeting. You’re part of this too! I’m gonna go find Arthur.”

All the Blinder boys begin crowding in. Finn’s back too. So many familiar faces. Michael, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Johnny Doggs. Um, this is not a meeting I’m meant to be part of. It doesn’t feel right.

“Finn, I’m not sure-” I stutter and start inching towards the back door. “I’m not a gangster, I’m not family-”

“The Hell you’re not!” Finn grabs my arm and hides me behind the pantry. “Get in here, Verena.”

People part away and Thomas steps in front of the group. When he sees me standing next to Finn he gets confused.

“Verena? Why’re ya hiding back here?”

I’m surprised he noticed my absence. “Just tired is all. I had a long trip.”

“How long will you stay?” Is that hope hidden in his voice?

“A few days, perhaps.” I take a sip of whiskey. “Then I’m heading to Belfast to respond to a note from my uncle.”

His face falls. “That soon?”

Why else would I stay? He’s got his bride and his son. I’m not part of the equation. And he’s quick to forget it because now Thomas is scanning the crowd for the rest of his brothers.

“Where are they? Where-?”

“I don’t know, Tommy-”

The door opens and Arthur and John bust in carrying wine. “Here we are! We got lost. You really need to do a map, Tommy.”

Thomas has looked stressed before but this is a new form of stress. He keeps looking at everyone like a dog growling at intruders.

“Right boys, you’re all here. Today, this is my fucking wedding day.”

Oh no, I’ve walked right into the warning speech. Thomas is off the leash. That cigarette is never going to provide enough nicotine to get him through this.

“And you said there’d be no bloody uniforms-” John complains.

“Nevertheless, John, despite the bad blood I’ll have none of it on my carpet. Now for Grace’s sake nothing will go wrong.” He holds up his hands in an attempt to calm people down and points to the door. “Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to emberass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

John speaks up. “Tom-”

“What?!” he barks.

His brother flinches and Isiah asks instead. “What about snow?”

“Yeah their women are sports I’ll say that!” John agrees and gets him in a headlock.

“No. No. No.” Thomas approaches them in an eerily steady but scary voice. “No cocaine. No cocaine. No sports. No telling fortunes, no racing, no fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars. And you, Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh?”

“‘M just trying to sell ya to ‘em, Tom,” his uncle defends.

Thomas isn’t done. He keeps getting in everyone’s face. I really shouldn’t be here! I don’t want him to get more agitated than he already is. But I can’t sneak past Finn without him noticing. He’s pacing now. Like a caged animal.

“But the main thing is, you bunch-a fuckers, despite the provocation from the calvary, no fighting. Oi!” He raises his voice and points to each individual. “No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. No! Fucking! Fighting!”

I think we can all agree that this is extreme, even for Thomas. Are all English weddings this uptight? If it were a wedding back home we’d all be dancing by now. Next to me I feel Finn’s as tense as frozen butter. But at least Thomas is starting to cool down.

“Good.” He backs up just as an unsuspecting hired hand and gives him a shove. “Get the fuck off me!”

So much for no fighting. All the men start laughing and go back to their usual bantering. Maybe I went unseen after all.

“Coast is clear,” Finn whispers. 

“Are you okay?”

He nods repeatedly. “Yup, yup. We all got an earful from Tommy.”

Arthur walks over. “Speaking of, where did Tommy go?”

“Upstairs with Grace,” John says and claps him on the back. “C’mon let’s eat.”

They expect me to follow but I shake my head. “No offense but I’m not staying around for dinner. If the simple drinks and conversing are this awkward I don’t even want to think about what dinner will be like.”

“Oh, come on.” John drags me out of my hiding place and into the ginormous parlor. “For Polly and Ada’s sake.”

I spot the two women conversing in the corner. “They seem fine without me. What about you, Arthur? You’ve been sober this whole time.”

He smiles proudly. “Gave up whiskey. Only the occasional drink. Oh, wait!” He spots someone behind me and walks over with a blonde woman wearing an elegant black dress with a simple cross necklace. “Steenstra, meet Linda. My girl.”

She offers a kind smile. “You are a woman of God as well?”

Oh. Skip straight to that kind of conversation. “Indeed.”

Her smile widens. “Are you Catholic?”

“I am a Christian. My father let my brothers and I choose our own path rather than setting us up in one dominion. In the end we’re all Christians.”

She wants to keep smiling but her eyes don’t agree with my answer. “I see.”

I nod to where Arthur and John are bringing out more wine. “Arthur seems quite happy now. I’m glad you found him.”

“He just needed someone to guide him,” Linda comments. “I love him very much. Do you have a special someone back home?”

There are so many ways I could answer that.

“I thought I had someone special,” I say, avoiding her gaze by taking a sip of whiskey. “But things change.”

“Do you still plan to marry one day?”

What is with this woman? She just met me. Why do weddings always have to make everyone crowd up in everyone else’s private life?

“If I can find the right man.” I shrug. “Or if my family forces me to marry first. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.”

“I can fix that!”

A hand tugs me away and I’m twirled around to face Ada. Why does she look like she’s up to something?

I pull away and back off slowly with my hands raised. “Ada, no. I have no interest in whatever suitable bachelor you picked out for me. I’m off the table. I’m only here for your family. Now please excuse me.”

Need to find Thomas. Need to find Thomas! Then I can escape this stuffy house and forget all about today. Thank God! Both Grace and Thomas are in the side room with the rest of the gangsters. I can give one big goodbye instead of many individual ones.

“There you are!” Thomas smiles. “We’re- Wait. What’s this?”

Everyone looks as I hand them both the gift basket and hold up my nearly-empty glass to give a quick toast.

“To the bride, to the groom. May your love prosper in the eyes of God. To the Peaky Blinders and the hope you provide.”

I chug the last of my whiskey and slip back into the crowd before they can hold me to another conversation. I’m sick of pretending to be happy. Even if this is supposed to be a special day. As much as I want to join the extravagant celebration my heart just isn’t in for it. My heart feels like it’s about to choke me.

Satisfaction slips through my fingers once again.

@meadows5

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎞️“Nice.”

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Michael ⇢ *- Secret Fun -* ⇠ Gray ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) Michael Gray x fem!reader

⇾ Summary: reader Isaiah’s sister in a secret romance with one of his best friends.

⇾ Warnings: smut

Heavy breathing filled the room as you tried to keep quiet. With a hand covering your mouth, you quietly moaned into it, back arching off the bed.

Two toned arms rested on either side of your body, keeping the man up as he had his way with your body.

Michael couldn't help himself when he saw you walk in, you looked too good to be seen by anyone but himself, and the way your body moved within the dress you were wearing had him feeling all types of ways.

So, whilst everyone was distracted by the party downstairs, Michael dragged you up into the spare room where he laid you down gently on the bed.

"Fuck- Michael..." you whined softly to the boy.

With his cock penetrating your hole, you couldn't help the moans that escaped and how loud they were growing with every thrust.

He thrusts stopped for a mere second as he leaned down a placed a kiss on your lips, silencing you with his mouth. "You're doing so good for me." He mumbled, moving to kiss your cheek and then down to your neck, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust into you.

You cried soft words into his ear, encouraging him to do more despite the risk of either families finding the two of you fornicating 

"Please- Michael. Need more." You pleaded, pushing your hips up to meet his.

He laid back up, lifting off of you to change positions. "Turn over." He demanded, lightly smacking your ass as you rolled onto your stomach.

You gasped as he pulled you up to rest on your hands and knees, pulling your hips back to meet his as he teased your entrance with the tip of his dick, pushing it in and pulling back out. "Hurry up." You dragged out, moving your hips to intrigue him.

"What do you say?" You could hear the smirk on his face as he rubbed your hips.

"Fuck you." You spat.

He chuckled, "since you asked so nicely." His slid the entirety of his cock into you in one go, shoving himself balls deep. He held himself there, handing trailing up your back and then back down down to your hips when he pulled back and pushed forward again.

He developed a rhythm of fucking into you from behind, hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he encouraged you to move back against him. Michael's eyes were locked on your ass, watching the way it moved every time his hips met yours, before moving down to watch the way his dick disappeared between your walls. He was mesmerized watching your body react to his.

You looked over at Michael, seeing the way he stared at you with hooded eyes and mouth dropped open, heavy breathing at the sight. "See something you like?" You mocked causing his eyes to snap back up to meet yours.

He wordlessly shoved your head down into the mattress below, muffling your moans with the pillow as he fucked into you faster, not wanting to hear anything but moans from you. It grew harder to control how loud your moans were as you struggled to keep focus, feeling yourself getting lost in pleasure the harder Michael went.

It wasn't long before you gave into the pleasure, letting out moans that were far too loud and that could easily be heard from outside the room.

"Michael! Fuck- I'm gonna..." you weren't able to get it out as your orgasm washed over.

His thrusting slowed as he let you ride out your orgasm before pulling out, jerking himself off the rest of the way until he came all over your ass, smearing his seed on your skin. "Really?" You questioned, lightly giggling as you felt the sticky sensation on your ass.

"Where else was I supposed to do it? Can't have your family find out through a baby, can we?" He responded, getting up off the bed and grabbing his pants.

You went quiet at the thought of the two of you having children, it wasn't something that you had spoken about before, but it was definitely something that you wanted in the end.

"I'll go get something to clean this off you." Michael said, pulling his pants on and throwing on a shirt.

As Michael left the room and made his way down to the bathroom to get some paper towel he was stopped by a familiar voice. "Have fun, Mickey?" Michael turned to find Isaiah walking behind him, a smirk on his face.

When Michael met him, he lightly pushed the Gray boy, cheering him for 'getting some' unknown that it was younger sister in the room. "What's her name? Maybe she could share some." He teased.

Michael gulped. "You wouldn't like her, she's not your type." He quickly defended.

"Shame, she got a friend then?"

"I don't know, I'll ask her." And with that, Isaiah made his way back down to the party, blissfully unaware.

Michael returned back to the room with tissue paper, wiping his cum off your backside. "Your brother came up." He paused, "knows I was with someone, but doesn't know it was you."

"Oh gosh, atleast he doesn't know it was me then."

To which Michael hummed, dropping down on the bed beside you. "Maybe we should tell them..." he suggested.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same." You nodded.

There was a knock at the door. "Michael, Tommy says he needs you downstairs!" Isaiah called from the other side of the door.

You glanced up at Michale who was bout to get up when you pulled him back down. "He'll be down in a minute!" You called back.

"What the fuck?"

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[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.

[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme, Part 1

“Have you heard the news Tommy?”, Michael asked as he stood besides his cousin in front of the Canal. “What news Michael”, Thomas asked rather coldly, starring into the distance with a grim look painting his features as his hands were in the pockets of his pants. Michael had his arms crossed over his broad chest. “A girl arrived on the trains this morning.” “And? A lot of people arrive on the trains.” “A German girl.” “So? Germany lost the war, its people want a live worth living. They have better chances outside of their own country.” “A girl that claims to know you.” “A lot of people claim to know me.” “She said she’s here to kill you. Bold words considering that she’s in the heart of your city. You control all of Birmingham and Small Heath. Nothing happens without you knowing, no person steps foot into Birmingham without you knowing. She’s been claiming to want to kill you since she’s set foot on English soil. And until now, nobody lived this long while claiming to want your death. What are you planning?” “During war-times I did things I’m not proud of Michael. I did dark things, very dark things.” “So you’ll let her go around, possibly armed to kill you?” “If I die, I die. I could drop dead any given second Michael, if she’s wanting to kill me then I want to know why I’ve done to make her curse me through several countries.”

“So we shouldn’t deal with her?” “No.”

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ here?”, Harry asked as he saw the girl stepping through the doors of the Garrison, “I’m looking for work. Are you in need of a barmaid?” “The last one didn’t end so well-“ “Am I the last barmaid you had? No.” “Look, all I’m saying is that working here in Small Heath is dangerous on its own but here in the Garrison? You must be suicidal.” “I have nothing to lose, if I get killed I might as well with a few pounds in my pockets.” Harry smiled to himself, “You’re brave, I could use some help around here, just gotta talk with the owner first.” “You’re not the owner?” “Not anymore. This shack here belongs to the Blinders.” “The Blinders?”

Y/N was working behind the bar, pouring drinks, mostly beer and whiskey as the windows for the snub opened a young man around her age faced her, taken aback by seeing her he took a minute to compose himself. “What can I bring you?”, she asked, rolling her r quite heavily as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Whiskey, scotch.” “How many glasses?”, she asked as she grabbed the bottle and faced the young man before grabbing the glasses, “Seven.” “Seven glasses, then you’ll need two bottles”, Y/N spoke with a small smile as she grabbed a second bottle of the whiskey before placing them by the window-sill as Harry spoke up behind her, “Don’t worry charging them. It’s on the house.” Y/N nodded as she gave the boy behind the window a small nod, “Have fun.”

“Who’s that?”, John asked, opening one of the whiskey bottles as Michael had sat everything down onto their table, “Seems like a new barmaid”, Michael answered and Arthur nodded, “She came in today, asked Harry for a job. He told me she was persistent about it.”

“What’s her name?”, Michael asked Arthur who had already emptied his glass of whiskey, going for a second one, “Y/N or something like that.” “Y/N doesn’t sound particularly English. Where’s she from?” “Germany, I’m assuming”, Arthur answered Thomas’ questions and the second oldest Shelby looked at Michael who had stilled. “You think that’s her Michael?” “You tell me Tommy, you know who enters your city.” “The bloody hells going on?”, Scudboat asked as he glanced at his boss. “We’ve got a little German lady in Small Heath swearing she’ll kill me”, Thomas spoke nonchalantly as he lit himself a cigarette, John spoke up after wiping his nose, “And we’re just … not doing anything  ‘bout it?” “Why would we?”, Thomas asked, “She won’t kill me, how many people have tried to kill me now?” “Too many”, Arthur stated coldly and Thomas nodded, “And how many have succeeded?” At the silence in the snub Thomas took his whiskey glass into his hands, “Exactly.” “Still, the only two women in all of Birmingham daring to threaten you are aunt Pol and Ada”, Finn said, “It should stay like that. Only family, we should at least find that lady and give her a little scare.” “If you find her”, Thomas said calmly, “But where would be the fun in that, eh?”

A bit later the same girl entered the snub to take one of the whiskey bottles away, it was empty, the second one half-way empty, “Need more whiskey? Or beer?” “Whiskey, irish”, Thomas said sternly as he eyed the girl up and down, she wore her hair so that it covered the upper half of her right ear, the side-pony-tail flowing barely over her shoulder. “I’ll take a beer.” Scudboat said and Isaiah nodded, “Me too.” “Should I just bring a bucket?” “Do that”, Arthur said to the girl who gave a small smile and left the snub before entering it again roughly ten minutes later with the bucket of beer and the bottle of whiskey, “Apologies for the delay gentlemen, it’s a bit overflowing out there. Game day.”

“Are you German?”, John asked Y/N who stilled in her actions before looking at him with wide eyes, “The r gives me away, eh?” “Partially”, John stated, “Which part of Germany are you from?” “Austria”, the girl said with a small smile, “Not exactly Germany but-“ “But Austria fought against the British”, Thomas interrupted the girl who gave a shy nod, “But we lost, so who cares?”

“Did you lose someone in the war?”, Arthur asked, “Father, brother, uncle, cousins?” Y/N gave him a sad smile, “I never knew my father or my mother, or brother. I grew up with my uncle, and even he only took me in because I was his blood.” “Why’d you move here?”, Thomas asked and the girl quirked and eyebrow, “Is this an interrogation? I’m supposed to tell you all about me but don’t even know your name. Unfair.” Thomas just lit himself another cigarette, “Thomas Shelby. Those three over there are me brothers, Arthur the oldest, John my younger brother and Finn our baby brother. Then we’ve got Michael, he’s my cousin and Isaiah is Finn and Michael’s friend and my employee, Scudboat is one of my best employees. You know us now. So answer my question.” “I moved here for a better future. My uncle kicked me out when I turned eighteen, he’s a scientist, I’m not too interested in science, learnt just to make him happy.”

Y/N gave the men a smile before leaving the snub again, she couldn’t bear being in the same room as that man, as Thomas Shelby, but he hadn’t recognized her.

[zablife]

Zablife 2.5K Celebration Sleepover

Here's everything I've written for my sleepover celebration. I'll add to the list as I make my way thru all the asks I've received. Thanks to everyone who participated!

Warning: 18+ content, MDNI

💋 NSFW alphabet

Jack Nelson: A, E, V

John Shelby: A, C, N, L, M, O, V

Luca Changretta: E, L

Tommy Shelby: B, D, I, M, N, R, T, X

💋 FMK

Arthur, Tommy, John

Tommy, Luca, Jack

Michael, Isaiah, Finn

Eva Shelby, Eva Changretta, Eva Nelson

Charlie Strong, Jeremiah Jesus, Aberama Gold

Ada, Polly, Esme

Luca, Alfie, Jack

Gina Gray, Tatiana Petrovna, Luca Changretta

Tommy, Alfie, Luca

Bonnie, Isaiah, Michael

John, Alfie, Jack

💋 Spicy Fics

Disappointment (Tommy)

Are You Listening? (Tommy)

Let Me Spoil You (Luca)

Morning Chores (Alfie)

💋 GIF blurb

Tommy Stolen Kiss

John John's Return

John A Small Distraction

Tommy Two Left Feet

Tommy Just a Peek

Tommy Playing Games

Jack Nelson x Eva Smith Costume Party

💋 Questions

Who would you have a threesome with?, Part 2

24hrs to let Tommy do anything to you or vice versa?

Tommy's tattoos

Who would you rather be trapped in a house with?

Unpopular/scandalous opinion of a peaky character

Describe your wedding to May Carleton

[corrupte3d-mindz]

His Angel

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x F! Younger Reader

Summary: Thomas can’t help himself when it comes to her, she gets everything she wants from him.

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings:

possessive! Thomas, head-over-heels! Thomas, lap sitting, kissing, soft talking, praise, lovey dovey things from Thomas.

Inspiration: Too Sweet - Hozier

The Garrison snug was thick with the familiar haze of smoke, the air heavy with the scent of whiskey and sweat. Thomas sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid yet relaxed, an oxymoron that only he could embody so effortlessly. 

Arthur was mid-sentence, his gruff voice detailing the latest shipment, but Thomas’s mind was already elsewhere, drifting into the echo of his brother’s words. John, Finn, Isaiah, and Michael murmured amongst themselves, the background noise a symphony of camaraderie and business. The soft knock at the door silenced the room instantly. It was a knock they all recognized, a signal that brought an immediate hush over the group. Thomas’s eyes flicked to the door, and his entire demeanor shifted. The sharpness in his gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something almost tender. He took a long and deliberate drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing bright in the dim light, before turning in his chair to face the door.

As the knob turned and the door creaked open, time seemed to slow. There she stood, framed in the doorway like a vision from a dream. Her off-white fur coat draped elegantly over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the dark, rich red of her dress. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with a grace that seemed almost unreal. The bottom hem brushed just past her ankles, revealing her black heels with their signature red bottoms—a custom pair made just for her by Thomas and his connections. Thomas felt a swell of emotion as he took her in. Her makeup was flawless, enhancing her natural beauty without overpowering it. The deep crimson of her lips matched the ruby drop earrings that dangled delicately from her ears, the diamonds in her dog collar necklace catching the light and adding an extra sparkle to her already radiant presence. Her hair was styled in a poodle bob, a classic look that gave her an air of timeless elegance.

He rose from his seat and stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table; the movement drawing the attention of the room, but he paid no mind to the eyes on his back. His focus was entirely on her. With a few long strides, he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to pull her gently by the waist. As the door closed behind her, sealing them off from the world, he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear.

"What did I ever do.." he sighed softly again, "...to get so lucky with someone like you?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and the smell of cigarettes, whiskey as well as his natural musk he has. He tilted his head slightly, inhaling the scent of her hair—a delicate fragrance that sent a shiver down her spine. The sensation of his breath and the intimacy of the moment made her heart flutter.

She smiled up at him, her eyes full of warmth and adoration. "Maybe it’s not about luck, Tommy. Maybe it's just meant to be," she whispered back, her voice soft and melodic.

Oh, how she spoke to him; he loved it so, it always melted his cold and dark heart; tugging at his vulnerable little heart strings, oh he would do anything she ever asked him. The quiet laughter from the table behind them went ignored. Thomas was lost in her presence, the rest of the world fading into the background. He traced his fingers lightly over her waist, feeling the delicate fabric of her dress under his touch. Her skin was warm, even through the material, and he could feel her heartbeat quicken under his fingertips. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of awe and affection. "You’re too sweet for a man like me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a rough edge to his words, a hint of the darkness that always seemed to linger just beneath the surface.

She reached up, cupping his face in her gloved hand. "But you’re just right for me," she replied, her smile never wavering.

The sincerity in her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them; his eyes filled with love as he spoke softly just so she could hear. "ingerul meu," he said, his voice breaking slightly; as he spoke his romani language. It was a rare moment of vulnerability; but it was more rare for him to speak his language and say such caring words, it something that he only ever allowed himself in her presence.

For a few precious moments, they stood there, wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world outside their small bubble. Her presence was a balm to his troubled soul, a touch of sweetness in his otherwise bitter existence. The noise of the pub, the business, the danger—they all melted away, leaving just the two of them. Thomas buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, holding her as if she might disappear if he let go. Her hair smelled like wildflowers, a scent that clashed so wonderfully with the leather and smoke that clung to him. Eventually, the world intruded once more. Thomas pulled back, but kept one arm wrapped around her waist. "Come, sit wit' me," he said, his voice a low rumble, guiding her to the table. He pulled out his chair and sat down, before tapping his lap slightly, the gesture almost gentlemanly despite the roughness of his exterior. She blushed slightly before taking off her off-white fur coat and hanging it on the small coat rack next to him.

She moved to sit down in his lap, her movements graceful and cautious. Thomas helped her get comfortable; his hands gripping her waist to steady her. Each touch was possessive yet tender, as if he were afraid to break her. He occasionally let out a soft grunt, groan, hiss, or a very, very quiet and still moan that only she would hear. These sounds were uncharacteristic of the man known for his stoicism, but with her, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. He eventually let go of her waist and rested his hands in the softness of her lap. Her presence grounded him, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold steel he often felt in his chest. The conversation Thomas once had with Arthur resumed, it was about a shipment of theirs, the details gritty and grim, but necessary. Time passed slowly as they talked about things she didn't need to worry about. She would occasionally feel uncomfortable in his lap, and moved slightly to sit differently. Each time she moved, he let out a soft grunt, groan, hiss, or a very, very quiet and still moan that only she would hear; his reactions a testament to how much he loved and needed her.

Soon, everyone had said what they needed to say, and they called the little meeting to a close. Arthur, John, Finn, Isaiah, and Michael started to get up and leave the snug, their goodbyes curt and businesslike. Thomas watched and waited as they filtered out, his focus shifting back to her as the room emptied. It was just them now, them and the air around them, them and the world only. Thomas sighed, the weight of the world momentarily lifting as he leaned forward to rest his chin on her head, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her closer. He occasionally sniffed her hair; oh, how he loved how she smelled. The sweet scent was intoxicating, a reminder of the softness and sweetness she brought into his life. His arm now slightly wrapping around her waist; an action that held her more against him. His other hand found its way to her hands; cupping them both in his large, calloused hand, feeling the contrast between his roughness and her softness.

"I heard y' had problems when visitin' Polly the other day... why didn't y'-tell me? Eh'.." His voice was a low whisper as he leaned into her ear, his lips brushing against the soft flesh of her earlobe. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, a mix of his tenderness and the latent danger that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface with him. "I had 'em handle it, they won' give ye' problems anymore—" His voice filled with a mixture of slow-burning rage for the men who gave her problems she shouldn't have to deal with and a deep, abiding love for her.

His words were a promise, a declaration of the lengths he would go to protect her. His hand tightened around hers, his grip firm but gentle. She was the light in his darkness, the sweetness in his bitterness, and he would do anything to keep her safe. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest, a rare feeling for a man so accustomed to the cold. Her voice was soft when she replied, "I didn't want to worry you, Tommy. You've got so much on your plate already." Her words were filled with the kind of understanding and compassion that only she could offer. She was too kind, too sweet, too loving, and he was acutely aware of how undeserving he felt of her love. He shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You never worry me, love. Yer the only good thing in this bloody world. An' if anyone tries to take that away, I'll deal with 'em myself." There was a fierce protectiveness in his voice, a promise of retribution for anyone who dared to threaten her peace. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The pub, the business, the danger—they all became background noise to the rhythm of their shared breath. Thomas stroked her hair, his touch gentle, his heart full.

Her presence was like a soothing balm to his tumultuous soul, and in these stolen moments, he allowed himself to savor the peace she brought him. His entire being radiated a dangerous intensity, a brooding darkness that was barely contained beneath the surface. The sharp planes of his face were etched with a perpetual look of determination, his eyes glinting with a mix of love and ferocity. There was a rage simmering within him, a fury that was always ready to explode at the slightest provocation. But with her, that anger was tempered by a tenderness he rarely showed to anyone else. As he sat there, holding her close, his thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. He was a man used to control, accustomed to bending the world to his will. Yet, when it came to her, he found himself at a loss. She was everything he had never known he needed: kind, sweet, understanding, and loving. She was the light to his darkness, the softness to his hardness, and he was utterly captivated by her. His tone was dark, his words dripping with unspoken promises; he stopped petting her soft hair. He could feel the tension in her body as he spoke, her confusion evident in the way she shifted slightly on his lap. He picked her up slightly, turning her around to face him. His arm tightened around her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. His other hand left her hands and moved to cup her face roughly, his touch firm yet somehow gentle.

"If people ever fuckin' knew..." he began, his voice low and menacing. His eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of understanding. But she looked back at him with wide, innocent eyes, not comprehending the depths of his words. "The thin's I'd be willin' t'do for yeh," he continued, his touch becoming more possessive, his fingers digging into her soft skin. There was a darkness in his gaze, a promise of violence that he would unleash upon anyone who dared to harm her. "They woul' realize t'one they should b' scared of is not me..." he said, his nose scrunching in a gesture that was both menacing and almost tender. "It's you, love."

She still didn't understand, and that only fueled his frustration. How could she not see that she held more power over him than anyone else ever had? How could she not realize that she was the one thing in this world that could bring him to his knees? He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin as he spoke.

"They don't know what it's like, lovin' someone like yeh. They don't know what I'd do, what I'd sacrifice, to keep yeh safe," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'd tear the world apart for yeh, I'd burn it all down if it meant keepin' yeh by my side."

His words were a vow, a promise of the lengths he would go to protect her. He could feel her trembling in his grasp, whether from fear or something else, he wasn't sure. But he needed her to understand, needed her to see that she was the most important thing in his life.

"You make me better, love. You make me want to be better," he confessed, his voice softening for a moment. "But that don't mean I won't do what's necessary. That don't mean I won't become a monster if it means keepin' yeh safe." He could see the thoughts piling up in her brain, in her eyes; he could tell by the way her lips quivered, he brushed a thumb across her cheek. His touch was gentler now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "I love yeh," he whispered, the words carrying a weight that was almost tangible. "More than anythin' in this world. An' I'll do whatever it takes to make sure nothin' ever hurts yeh."

Her skin was soft and smooth, a delicate canvas beneath his rough fingers. He traced the curve of her cheekbone, his touch feather-light, almost reverent. His thumb brushed against her lips, and he felt the warmth of her breath against his skin. The crimson stain of her lipstick left a faint mark on his thumb, a vivid reminder of her presence.

"I've been thinkin' 'bout..." His voice trailed off, rough and gravelly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid thoughts. He paused, his thumb resting against her lips, feeling the soft, pliant flesh beneath his touch. The struggle to find the right words was evident in the furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw. "I just wish I could've met yeh before all this." The words finally came, a rough whisper in the quiet of the snug. His thumb traced her lower lip, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. There was a vulnerability in his voice that she rarely heard, a glimpse of the man beneath the hardened exterior.

He gazed into her eyes, those windows of softness and light that calmed the storm within him.

"Ești prea dulce pentru mine," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, rough and full of the gravel of his Birmingham accent. His Romani roots slipped into his words, a tender whisper of his heritage that only she was privy to. She smiled softly, her eyes reflecting the understanding and love she held for him. Her hand covered his, her fingers curling around his, feeling the strength and callouses of a man who had fought many battles. Before she could respond, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was more battle than embrace. His lips crashed against hers with a force that spoke of desperation and need, a raw intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The kiss was a tempest of emotions—passion, anger, pain, and a lingering sadness that he could never quite shake. His arm tightened around her back, pulling her impossibly closer, as if he feared she might vanish if he let go. His other hand cupped her face, thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture that was almost tender. She clung to him, her arms finally moving to encircle his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as if anchoring herself to him. The kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring and claiming in a way that was both possessive and reverent. He tasted the sweetness of her, a stark contrast to the bitter whiskey and smoke that lingered on his own tongue. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady blend of innocence and warmth that he couldn't get enough of. He gripped her face more firmly, his need for her bordering on frantic.

Time seemed to stand still as they kissed, the world outside the snug fading into oblivion. It was as if they were the only two people in existence, bound together by a connection that defied explanation. The kiss went on, a relentless exploration that left them both breathless. When they finally pulled apart, a thin string of saliva still connected their lips, a physical reminder of the bond they shared. Thomas's chest heaved as he caught his breath, his gaze never leaving her face. Her lipstick was smeared, a vibrant red that now adorned his own lips and around his mouth. She looked equally disheveled, her eyes bright with the same mix of emotions that churned within him. He watched as she leaned back against the table, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Without a word, he pulled her against him once more, her face finding its place in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. His hand moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he held her close. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words, a quiet that was both comforting and fraught with tension.

"îngerul meu dulce și dulce," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against her skin. My sweet, sweet angel. The words were a confession, an admission of a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to feel. In her arms, he found a sanctuary from the darkness that constantly threatened to consume him.

Her hand moved to his chest, resting over his heart as if to soothe the turmoil that raged within. She didn't need to say anything; her presence was enough, her touch a silent promise that she wasn't going anywhere. He tightened his grip on her, drawing strength from her unwavering support. Thomas's thoughts were a chaotic swirl of emotions, memories of a past marred by violence and loss clashing with the hope that she represented. She was everything he needed but didn't deserve, a beacon of light in his dark, dangerous world. He knew he should push her away, should protect her from the storm that was his life, but he couldn't. She was his, and he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side. As he held her, he couldn't help but marvel at the way she fit so perfectly against him, as if she were made to be there. Her kindness, her sweetness, her unwavering love—they were the antithesis of everything he had known, and yet they were exactly what he needed. She balanced him in a way nothing else could, her softness soothing the jagged edges of his soul.

Author's Notes:

This song is actually so fucking perfect, like it matches Thomas so well. God I can't believe I let this one shot sit on the back burner for this long!!! The reader is literally too sweet for Thomas; because she's too sweet like wine....ahhhhh!!! Please check out these articles to understand it more!!: What does it mean? 'Too Sweet' by Hozier.

The person who asked for an older and dom! Cillian paired w a younger reader; I must tell you that's its being worked on it's just I've had weird problems with it, like it's cursed. I've spent a couple hours on writing for it; then saved it only for it to not save. I've had text formatting problems; the whole 9 yards; everything and the damn kitchen sink.

However it is in the works and should be one of my next uploads; if I don't have problems with it.

To just a simple passer by; I hope you enjoyed this one shot as I did writing it.