#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.

[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

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Part 4.

[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

[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

[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

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

A Friend in Need

Based on this request:  May I please request an Arthur Shelby fic? Maybe reader(fem and Arthur’s best friend) has never liked Linda because she tried to control Arthur. She never said anything to Arthur though and when Linda leaves Arthur for someone else, he turns to reader who comforts him? Maybe some unrequited love?

Here you are, lovely! I apologize for the wait! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: mentions of cheating(I do NOT condone this), mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, potentially unrequited romantic love. Comfort.

Pairings/Characters: Arthur Shelby x platonic(?)!fem reader, Tommy Shelby, brief mentions of Linda Shelby

Linda Shelby was a woman you hated with every fiber of your being. It wasn't like you to be so harsh on other women, but Linda was probably one of the worst in your opinion. She wasn't good for her husband at all and you knew that because Arthur had been your best friend for longer than you could remember. He was a strong Shelby man brought down by a manipulative and controlling woman.

         No longer did Arthur come 'round to the Garrison just to have a drink with you. No longer did he come to the ring to let out his frustration. You knew he had children now, so the fighting thing didn't bother you as much. But the slight turning of his back on his family because his…wife decided that the rest of the Shelbys were no better than dirt beneath her feet? That made a rage build within you in a way you'd never felt before. A rage that was only made worse by her "holier-than-thou" complex. So yes, you despised Linda Shelby, but never more than in this moment right now.

         When the pounding began at your door, you were irritated. You were tired and ready to retire for the evening. That irritation instantly melted away when you opened the door to find Tommy and Michael dragging a (very obviously) drunk Arthur between them. You moved aside to let the three in without a single question. They would tell you when they were ready.

         They plopped Arthur down on the couch as you grabbed a bucket in case Arthur got sick. Tommy turned to you as he straightened his jacket. "Arthur's in a bad way." You snorted out a laugh. "I can see that. Am I allowed to know what's happened or is it family only business?" Tommy arched a brow at you. "You are family, Y/N. Linda walked out on Arthur. For another man." Your eyes widened.

         "SHE DID WHAT?!" Arthur groaned at the suddenly volume of your voice. "Sorry, Arthur," you muttered before practically pulling Tommy and Michael from the room. "You're joking. Tell me you're joking, Thomas," you stated as calmly as you could. You knew better though. Tommy wasn't one to joke like that. "Arthur spent most of the day in the pub. Probably still be there if Finn and Isaiah hadn't found him. I thought I'd seen him at his worst. Turns out, I hadn't."

         "Where is she?!" you growled, "I'll wring her neck! How dare she! The hypocrite!" You moved toward the door only to be stopped by the two non-intoxicated Shelbys. "You don't worry about Linda. Arthur needs you right now." You took a deep breath through your nose, indicating that you were not happy about it. "Fine. But if I ever see her face, no force on earth is going to stop me. Not even you, Tommy." He smirked before tipping his hat and leaving your home.

         With a sigh, you turned back help Arthur. He held the bucket you'd given him near his face as he groaned loudly. "Oh, Arthur," you whispered. You carefully sat next to him and rubbed his back. Arthur glanced at you, or tried to, before letting out another noise of agony. The two of you sat in silence for a bit before Arthur spoke in a mess of slurred words.

         "Sh-Should have been you," was what you managed to catch. "What?" you asked softly. You didn't want to make the headache you were sure he had worse. "Should have m-married y-*hic*-you. Wanted to." You blinked in surprise. What the hell? "Arthur, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." Arthur shook his head which seemed to make him feel ill as he leaned over the bucket.

         "We'll talk about this more in the morning over breakfast." Arthur let out another couple of hiccups and set the bucket on the floor next to the couch. You helped him lie down, your mind racing a mile a minute. Were Arthur's words really those of a drunken mind? Or did he mean them? And, if he did, did you feel the same?

         You loved Arthur, sure. He was your closest friend and had been for years. But were you in love with him? Did you love him as more than a friend? You had never thought about it before. "I need to sleep," you muttered. You could think about this more in the morning. You bid Arthur a good night only to find him already snoring from his spot on the sofa. A soft laugh escaped your throat. Then you headed to your own bed in hopes of catching at least a few hours of sleep. You would deal with this in the morning and you only hoped that, no matter what your head and heart agreed on, it wouldn't change things between you and Arthur for the worse.

         You tossed and turned all night, finally givin g up when you caught sight of the dawn through your window. With a sigh, you rose and snuck downstairs to brew a cup of tea and cook breakfast. You knew the smell of a home cooked meal would wake Arthur from his stupor. And you needed the time to think. Cooking always helped you do that.

         Sure enough, a few minutes later, Arthur entered the kitchen. He looked awful, but then, who wouldn't after the night he had? He let out a groan as he sat down at the table. Without a word, you slid a cup of coffee his way before continuing with breakfast. A comfortable silence settled between you while you worked and Arthur nursed his coffee.

         Once breakfast was ready, you sat a plate in front of Arthur before sitting down with your own food. You felt Arthur's eyes on you as you ate slowly. It was like he was trying to decide if he'd messed up the night before. He was trying to piece together what had happened and you let him. You weren't going to bring it up and potentially embarrass either one of you. Arthur was a man who got angry when he was embarrassed and that would only make his headache worse.

         "Tommy tell ya?" he finally asked and you nodded slowly. Arthur's lips dipped into a frown. He looked like he was contemplated every choice he'd ever made in life. "Am I bein' punished?" You arched a brow. "Of course not, Arthur. Linda's choices were her own. She chose to break the vows she made. She chose. Not you. You love her, enough to remain faithful and stop drinking and fighting, at least for a while. She made the choice. You're a good man, Arthur Shelby. A good man who sometimes makes bad decisions, but no, you are not 'being punished' for anything in this situation."

         Arthur grew silent again, pulling another sigh from your lips. You rose from your seat and made your way over to him so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders as you'd done a million times before. You pressed a kiss to his hair. Arthur used one hand to hold onto your arm a little more tightly than usual, as if he were afraid you would disappear. You had never seen the man more broken and you only hoped he would make through this an even stronger man than before.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I am nearly finished with part 2 of “Deduce Me” so I’m hoping to get that posted soon!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @supernatural4life2022​

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Nameless/Faceless Characters

These are the mysterious characters whose speaking lines only display "???", have blacked-out silhouettes, are referred to only by moniker, or are otherwise unidentified.

List of Named Characters:

Alex

Arthur

Bella

Dr. Dean

Dulcie

Dr. Lewis

Dr. Louise

Dr. Steven

Maxwell

Ms. Eleanor

Mr. Fallon

Frankie

Frederick

Ms. Gabriella

Georgie

Grace

Henrik Harris

Herman

Isaiah

James

Joe

K

Linton

Leon

Ms. Lin

Lois

Louis

Luke

Mr. Marty

Michael

Mr. Morlet

Noah: Part 1, Noah: Part 2

Professor Zero

Professor Sean

Roman

Dr. Steven

Sherman/Mr. Sherman

Talia

Dr. Thalia

Tommy

Tony

Ulysses

Dr. William

X

Ms. Yan

Yennifer

List of Nameless Characters:

"Bookstore Owner"

"Elysium man"

"Ever Employee #1"

"Ever Employee #2"

"Hunter No. 32538"

"Hunter's Association President"

the "Hightowers" man

"Jester"

"Little Girl"

"Man in Black"

Man in pin-stripe suit + Ever Group pin

"Mural Artist"

"Mural Artist's Daughter"

"Mysterious Liar"

"Raincoat"

"Shopkeeper"

"ST"

"The man wearing a duckbill hat"

Voice from Mr. Raymond crime scene

"Zayne's old classmate #1"

"Zaynes old classmate #2"

[warnersister]

How the peaky boys react when dating a girl with a praise kink (nsfw) -> headcannon

Goes without saying, nsfw warning

Find the request here, sorry it took so long

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had you figured out before you’d figured yourself out.

🪖He knew what was going on in your head before your did.

🪖You were working late one Friday at the Garrison, of course many working men joyously engaging in Friday night drinking and drunkenness while their wives whittled wistfully back home.

🪖You weren’t expecting the Blinders tonight, but of course you’d always find room for the Peaky boys in this establishment, regardless if you were chocker with customers that the bar didn’t really have the capacity for. The door chimed and you spun, peering to see if you had the numbers to accommodate the x amount of customers you had walking through your door.

🪖”Evening boys, meeting or drinks?” You ask, readying yourself to go clean the business Roman that was wordlessly their property. “Just drinks tonight, love” Tommy answered with a small smile and you nod, placing your hands on your hips; balled into fists while you ponder around to find their empty table.

🪖You notice a table of rowdy youngsters occupying the usual Shelby spot and you narrow your eyes at them, internally questioning if you had the inner morals to boot paying customers out of their seats.

🪖”Be a good girl and get us a booth please, sweetheart” Tommy asks, well instructs, as he lights up another cigarette.

🪖He noticed the way your eyes darkened at his request and your lips parted slightly. You nodded. “Of course Tommy, give me a moment lads” you say, heading to the young gentleman to ask them to either head to the open seats at the bar or get gone.

🪖"hiya lads, sorry to bother.” You say as you approach the lot who look at you in question “but I’m afraid we need this booth, happy to serve you up at the bar or I’m sure another will open soon” you wince, apologetically. One scoffs. “Why should we? We’re paying customers?” He asks, beginning to instigate somewhat of an issue, when Tommy swoops in “I believe she asked you nicely” he grunts, and it was almost awe-strucking watching how fast the boys scampered out the door with mediocre apologies.

🪖Thomas wanted to test his small hypothesis again, placing a gentle hand on your lower back “such a good lass to your old Tom, aren’t you?” He hums and he watches as your jaw slackens and you swallow on your own saliva, beginning to stumble around a response. “My pleasure, Tom”

🪖And then a few months later, when he’d taken you out a couple of times you were more widely known as Tommy’s girl than you were your own name.

🪖It was again a Friday evening, usual crowd shuffling to their places and so were the boys.

🪖“evening boys” you smile, handing an older man his shandy as he makes his way back to his missus who was still sipping on her gin.

🪖“evening sweetheart�� Tommy smiles, leaning across the bar to peck your lips as the rest of the boys head to their normal spot.

🪖business as usual

🪖you begin pouring their beers automatically, following Tommy to the table with umpteen pints and of course an apple juice for John, whom you’d cut off from alcohol.

🪖“good girl” Tommy applauds as you hand them their drinks, quiet enough that the rest of his rough crowd didn’t hear but loud enough for you to become unsteady on your feet.

🪖you didn’t know when you’d agreed to go home with Tommy. You don’t even remember locking the door to the Garrison. But now he had you buried deep beneath him as he rutted into you and there was nothing you really cared about more right now. If there was a problem you can deal with it when you were finished.

🪖he was trying to coax it out of you. Trying to coax out the fact that you revelled in it when he praised you. And it got him off to see that when other blokes such as Harry called you a ‘good lass’ for a decent shift, you didn’t bat an eyelid.

🪖“Come on love, got one more in you haven’t you?” You shook your head at his question, almost hoping that he’d let you rest after your third. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t you want to be a good girl for your Tommy?” He asks and you nod up at him through dazed eyes. “Hmm?” He asks, holding your jaw still with one hand while the other held him up above you. “Please. Please Tommy. Wanna be good for you” you mumble out, and he smirks - rutting into you at yet again, another relentless pace.

🪖”that’s it. Such a good girl f’me. So so good” he praises as your moans progressively get louder as you mewl beneath him.

🪖and eventually, when you’d both calmed down, he looked at you and smirked “good girl aren’t you?”

🪖”shut up Tom.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Eats that shit up, no crumbs, licks the plate clean.

🧸already kind of babies you, he doesn’t mean too. You’re a few years his younger and as your husband he sees it as his job to protect and provide for you while doting and taking care of you like any good man should.

🧸then one night he comes home a bit late from the bakery, readying to apologise when he’d noticed you’d just finished cooking dinner. “Well here I was all soppy and ready to apologise to you, yeah. And no, my good little girls just gone and made dinner!” He says, almost chuffed. You giggle and plate up the food, sitting across from him as he begins to eat.

🧸”what ‘y doing over there, then?” He scoffs “c’mere.” He instructs as you move to sit in his lap and he relishes in the meal you’d prepared “you’re so good to your old man, aren’t you?” He hums “so so good” he exclaims, only trying to show his appreciation but he noticed your pupils dilate at his words. He brushes it off, nothing major.

🧸later in the evening his sciatica was playing up so you wordlessly left the room to go draw him a bath with some new salts you’d bought from your elderly neighbour whom your husband refused to speak to on account of her being ‘a witch’ as he said.

🧸”oh you are a good’un aren’t you, poppet?” He hums, as he enters the room, allowing you to help him undress and get into the bath, afterwards preparing to make your leave and get him some medicine from the cupboard downstairs.

🧸”and where do you think you’re going?“ he questions, and you raise a brow “to get you some medicine” “I need no such thing. Now get in here w’me.” He grunts and you do as he says, never one to turn down a good relaxing soak in the bath with your husband.

🧸”there you are, good girl aren’t you? Always listening to your old man. What did I do to deserve you. So perfect” he rambled, and doesn’t notice the ever hazing glint in your eye and when he finally looks down at you he narrows his eyes and finally realised what that look was.

🧸his praises got you going.

🧸”tell y’what would make y’old man feel so much better,” he hums and you cock your head ready to help his pain ease “if you be a good girl f’me and give us a distraction” he suggests and you see the smirk unveiling under his beard, as he reaches for your thigh to pull you over his lap and to settle atop of him. “Seeing as you asked so nicely” you mumbled into his shoulder, as you began to rock against him.

🧸”there you go, there’s a good girl” he says as you come undone on top of him and collapse onto his chest, stroking your back gently with one hand and holding you close with the other. “Y’want to move, poppet he asks?” And you shake your head, eyes closed as you recover.

🧸 as soon as his sciatica pain eases up, he was going to abuse that little trick as often as he could.

Arthur🍺

🍺poor baby needs just as much praise as you do. Thinks he’s a shitty partner

🍺but god when he found out it was like finding the fucking Magna Carta.

🍺it was his ticket out of everything. Came home drunk? “I’m so sorry, you’re so good for putting up with me” In a fight? “you’re such a good wife for patching me up” literally anything you’re not agreeing on? “Oh my good girl”

🍺he’d found out when you were already buried beneath his, mewling as he took out his frustrations on you rather than the man he was originally destined to kill that day.

🍺”y’better feel good about y’self.” He grunts “man’s life was saved cause of you, you and this fucking insatiability.” He thrusts and you groan “please” you number “hmm? Feel good? Little saint you are, fuckin’ angel. Stopped me killin’ a man. Wanna get me into heaven do y’angel? Huh? That’s where you’re sending me?” He asks and you groan louder.

🍺”yeah, cause you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” And that’s when you let out the most gluteal pornographic moan that almost stopped his movements, instead it pushes the throttle and sends the both of you over the edge.

🍺”god Id’ve spared hundreds of men if it meant I got to hear that from you”

John🥃

🥃The Shelby family were enjoying an afternoon at the Garrison. Given, it was incredibly backed with gang members and people dissimilar; still the atmosphere was was light and full of laughter.

🥃you’d volunteered for the Saturday shift seeing as Harry needed extra help nowadays seeing as the customer numbers were ever growing.

🥃John was flirting with you, as ever. While you just rolled your eyes at his antics and offered him another drink.

🥃”blimey, I need to drop drinkin’ the hard stuff. I’m seeing an angel!” John feigned surprise, as he took his cap off his head to greet you, plopping it onto your own as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly. “And I’m seeing a man who’s had one too many. I’m cutting you off” you warn, wagging a finger at him. “Well I do like a lady who takes care of her man” he smirks, but was cut off by a voice that altered the atmosphere in the bar.

🥃”I am looking for Thomas Shelby” the voice announced, and you felt uneasy; John’s face darkened as he clearly recognised the man who was a stranger to yourself. You look to the rest of his family who have a similar stature to him on their faces.

🥃”get behind the bar flower” John mumbles to you calmly, “that’s a good girl. Stay down there, sweetheart” he coos as you duck your head out of sight and into the small crawl space under the kegs.

🥃As the conversation continued, John looks over the counter to you discreetly. And your large doe eyes look back, and he could see the trust in them. He leans his hip against the oak bar edge, holding his hand over and motions for you to give him your own. You thread your hand with his, and he strokes the back of your knuckled gently; giving it a squeeze as Harry instructs them to take this out of his pub.

🥃John gives you one last reassuring squeeze of the hand before grabbing an empty beer bottle and heading out the door with his brothers. A few minutes, a couple of shouts and a gun shot the three walked back in as if nothing had happened.

🥃John leans over the bar “y’alright now, good lass” he says as you peer back up and get back up from your seat on the bar. He rests his arms against the wood and grins at you. “Let y’old John reward you f’ being such a good girl, hm?” He raises a brow and honestly expects nothing from his advance.

🥃you look at the clock on the wall and decide Harry could fend for himself for a while. You look at John and wet your lips, leaning down and grabbing his collar to bring him closer to you. “Meet me in the back”

🥃He jumped over the bar.

Bonnie🥊

🥊revels in it without really meaning too.

🥊also uses it to his advantage. He doesn’t mean it, honest.

🥊you were knelt in front of him, sitting back to rest on your ankles as you wrapped his hands for his fight. “You’re so good t’me, thank you angel” he thanks, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

🥊he knew what he was doing to you. Trying to get in your head.

🥊since he’d fallen hard and fast he’d decided that you were it for him. You were his and he was yours and nothing else. Especially when you agreed to live out his gypsy fantasies with him and give up the traditional home you were so accustomed too.

🥊and he was convinced you’d make the best mum.

🥊so this little praise obsession of yours was the perfect way to sway you onto his wavelength.

🥊”you’re gonna be great tonight, Bon” you say, smiling at him comfortingly. “M nervous” he mumbles and you shake your head, holding his hands in yours “it’s gonna be fine, just go out there and do your best. I’ll always be proud of you.” You say and he seems to settle slightly. “Y’d be such a good mother, darling” he tells you, moving some loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.

🥊he notices a slight blush on your cheeks, and decides to pry. “BONNIE; TIME!” His dad shouts through the door and you tap his leg, standing up to give him his good luck kiss. Instead, he slowly walks you back until your back hits the wall, two wrapped hands caging you.

🥊 “hmm, would’y like tha’? A mammy?” He asks and you stare up at him with dazed yet wide eyes. “Oh you’d be such a good mammy. So caring, so sweet. Y’so good t’me imagine how good y’d be to a young’un.” He hums, resting one hand on your waist. “So, so good” he bumps his nose with yours. “Then I’d marry y’a.” He continues “be a good wife too. The best. Such a good girl” he coos and you audibly whine and he smiles.

🥊”y’d like that? Gonna let me make y’a mammy?” He hums, ghosting his lips over yours “BONNIE!” His dad reiterates and Bonnie huffs. “Y’can do whatever Y’want to do to me, bon” you reply hazily and he smiles as you lean up to kiss him deeply, pulling away to lean your forehead on his, hands cradling his face. “After your fight.” You nod and he raises his brows “promise?” You smile back “promise.”

🥊fastest knockout he’d ever done.

Isaiah♟️

♟️uses it against you. Purposefully

♟️defo teases you for it

♟️you’d be at the garrison, having gone accompanying your twin brother Finn and expecting to see your boyfriend there eventually when you weren’t in your usual spot at home.

♟️he’d turned up around half and hour after you had, only looking to get a drink defo not looking for you.

♟️he sees you at the bar, yet by your side was some bloke he didn’t recognise. Some six foot slime ball with his hair slicked back so far it looked like it created a permanent surprised upkeep on his eyebrows. His suit was brand new, Isaiah assumed the tag was still tucked into a pocket somewhere for him to return and scrounge in the morning.

♟️and why were you talking back?

♟️you were drinking something dark, presumably the alcohol Isaiah preferred for you not to have.

♟️had he bought it you?

♟️Isaiah stormed his way over, fully prepared to lay out the man talking to you and throw you over his shoulder and lead you straight out of the pub; but the conversation you were having with the boy stopped you.

♟️”what d’y say love, wanna get out of here?” He asked “and for the fifth time. No. My husband will be here any minute. He’s a blinder y’know?” You scoff “well he ain’t here now, is he?” He asked you when Isaiah sweeper in and pressed his gun to the man’s temple “isn’t he?” He asked, cocking it as the man before you swallowed and visibly began to sweat.

♟️”I suggest you take yourself out of this pub, out of Birmingham and fucking away from my woman.” He grunts, and the man immediately scampers. Then Isaiah looks to you, and the relief decorating your face is immediately apparent.

♟️”oh Isaiah I’m so sorry I tried to get rid of him-” you begin and then your boy begins to smile “your husband?” He asked, raising a brow cockily and you begin to rock back onto your heels “just wanted to get rid of him” you mumble, and he wraps hands around your waist and settles them on the small of your back.

♟️”you’re so good to me, aren’t you doll?” He asks, smirk growing “rejecting other men f’me?” He hums and you nod “y’know good girls get rewarded, don’t you?”

♟️or when you’re not behaving as he’d want you too.

♟️”where d’y think you’re going?“ he asks as you open the door.

♟️”Ada invited me for drinks” “y’not going, not safe. Not w’them Italians crawling round” he instructs, expecting you to shrug off your coat and come join him in the lounge. He turns but hears the door click shut. And when he’d looked, you were gone.

♟️he was fucking fuming, livid, murderous.

♟️and when you’d shown back home at 2 in the morning, hiccuping, he was already stood at the door with his arms crossed.

♟️you smiled “hi Isaiah” you giggled, but he didn’t say anything as he walked you backwards and your back hit the wall. “In what fucking world does a woman not listen to her man?” He asked and you were immediately silenced. “Hmm?” He asks “why did you think you could just go out without me, you know how dangerous it is” he says “well-” “good girls don’t disobey their men, d’they princess” and he noticed how you cowered and sunk into your shell.

♟️he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, rutting into you in the bedroom more times than you could count telling you how disappointed in you he was and every time you were close to release, he’d stop and tell you why you didn’t deserve it.

♟️he loved torturing you.

Michael🎱

🎱so belittling with it.

🎱loves to use it against you whenever he can because it always means that he wins

🎱the first time he’d sussed this little predicament of yours out was when you were entertaining him while his brother dealt business with your father deep within the Cotswolds.

🎱you’d served him tea and polite conversation, talking about your purity and how much he idolised you.

🎱”and you’ve no husband?” He asked and he placed his cup on his saucer you and you straightened your posture before responding “no, no husband” you confirm and he is forced to stifle his smirk “well you’d make the perfect wife” he tells you and he notices how you swallow harshly “well that comes appreciated, mister gray” you reply and he narrows his eyes.

🎱and then when you were married and doting on him, he’d always remind you of how he impacted you.

🎱he knew just how to get to you. “Dear, go be a good girl and fix me a drink” and you’d do so. “I’ve got to go to London for the week. Be a good lass and don’t leave the house” and you wouldn’t.

🎱and sometimes he’d take you to family meetings. Personally believing that the women shouldn’t really be at these meetings. But a quick slap to the head from his mother soon sorted him out.

🎱and then he walked in on John shamelessly flirting with you, and he knew full well you weren’t meaningfully engaging with his cousin, it’s what you were taught to do from a young age. But still, you were engaging.

🎱”flirting with my woman, John?” Michael grunted, entering the room to which the former rolled his eyes “just showing her what a real man could give her” he winked at you before swaggering out of the room. “Why did you entertain him?” “I didn’t-” “thought you’d promised to be a good girl for me tonight?” And that shut you right up. The desire to be praised overpowering all.

🎱 “how ‘bout you make it up to me tonight, sweetheart?”

Finn🎞️

🎞️for his whole life, Finn has always been overshadowed by his older brothers. So being able to have so much control over you was so addictively intoxicating that he just loved to abuse his power.

🎞️and he’s at that age in his early twenties when his hormones are heightened and all he wants to do is act like a rabbit in a hutch during mating season.

🎞️and sometimes you weren’t up for it.

🎞️not until he figured you out.

🎞️he’d had you going for three rounds. Overwhelmed from how his brothers had been belittling him all day during business meetings and finally finding a vector to take it out on.

🎞️you’d come undone beneath him, very exhausted from the relentlessness of his actions, when he blurted out “fuck you’re so good at this” as he released inside of you. You mewled and whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Again” you mumbled and he raised his brows “you sure?” He asked and you opened his eyes as he recognised how your irises had deepened two shades and smiled giddily “well alright then”

🎞️so whenever he needed something or someone to release his frustrations on all he had to do was stroke your cheek and call you “my good girl” and you were pretty much tearing his clothes off.

🎞️and even sometimes when he’s upset he uses it to tell you just how much he appreciates you. When times are particularly hard and when he just can’t cope with situations; he’d let you hold and cradle him and rock him back and forth while silent tears sunk down his face “you’re so good to me” he’d mumble over and over again in a sleepy voice until he’d fallen asleep in your arms and you’d manoeuvred him into a comfortable position as his arms tightened around you.

Aberama🌞

🌞oh god this man is insatiable.

🌞defo calls you his ‘good girl’ and doesn’t give a fuck who hears it.

🌞likes to shelter you from everything in this horrible world, thinks it’s his job to protect and shadow you from anything. You were just a dainty young thing with no clue, someone had to step up and he decided he was the man for the job.

🌞just loved to take good care of you so those for eyes stayed innocent and undamaged. Bare and pure unlike his that were darkened and locked with such an intricately pessimistic past

🌞one day Thomas Shelby decided to pay a visit to the camp and Aberama had beckoned you over and you did as you were told, he motioned for you to lean closer as you approached him. “Need you to stay out of the way for a while sweetheart, can you do that for me, is that alright? Just until he goes?” He asks with sweet eyes. You smile and nod at him “good girl, off you go” and you were off into the woods to pick some berries for a recipe you had an idea for.

🌞eventually he’d come looking for you, find you deep into a bush trying to reach a berry that you’d just had to have but couldn’t quite get too. He’d stayed back for a while, leant against a tree while he admired you. Until he’d felt the masculine desire to aid his lady. Coming behind you and placing his hands on your waist as he leant to grab the berry for you. You’d gasped but turned to see him, smiling brightly at him. “Thank you” “anything for you” he replied, pecking your lips gently.

🌞”always willing to help my special girl” he says “can always count on you can’t I?” And the grin turns into a gaping expression, wide and heavy eyes looking at him and he’d decided he had to have you right then and there.

🌞he’d hiked the skirt of your dress up to your waist and told you how much he appreciated you as you screwed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

🌞then he’d carried your worn out, sleeping figure bridal-style back to camp with your basket selection of berries resting in his arm as he looked down at you lovingly.

[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.

[headmateelevator]

hello again!! may we please have a level two pack (without orientations or front triggers) for this new fragment im trying to flesh out? heres the details it has right now!!

a wolf/dog? the colours blue and grey. fog/mist. water. waves and shorelines. gender is "nothing but with occasional ghosts of fem or masc." seems to like ghosts! and static? and heres bunch of emojis it seems to feel connected to! 🐺🌑💤🔉🐚💧🌊🌫🌧🌥☁️💭🎞📼🔌📺

thank you!! please take as long as you need on this pack!! i love this blog <3 -green anon!!

order up!

name(s) - Canine , Max , Lucy , Daisy , Rocky , Cooper , Canidae , Angus , Callum , Alaska , Terrie , Shepherd , Collie , ace , affen , affie , aidi , airendale , akita , aksaray , Alano , alex , alfie , amarok , amaruq , annie , apollo , archie , arianell , aries , armant , artemis , artois , ash , asher , aurora , badulf , bailey , bandit , barbet , bardou , barkley , basenji , bear , beau , bella , beowulf , biewer , blue , bluey , bolt , boris , boxer , brad , Isaiah , Virgil , Salem , Osiris , Azriel , Theodore , Elias , Oliver , Lukas , Sebastian , Michael , Uriel , Azrael , Abaddon , Castiel , Nathaniel/Nate , Malice , Wolfram , brenard , Boxer , Brittany , Wolf , Gray/Grey , Rex , Forest , Brownie , Kai , Bear , Snow , Snowy , Buddy.

pronouns - they / it / ey / em / er / ers / hy / hyr / hy / hymn / ae / aer / it / that / thing / vae / vaer / se / sim / ny / nym / th-y / th-m / shy / shyr / thy / thym / x / xs / sh* / h*r / shx / hxr / hx / hxm / thxy / thxm / thon / thons / arf / arf / awoo / ba / ball / ba / bark / bark / bite / bo / bone / cae / canine / can / cani / canid / canidae / canin / canine / cha / chase / chew / claw / co / collar / fang / fangs / grey / grim / gro / growl / grr / guard / ho / howl / houn / hound / howl / howl / hunt / lu / lupi / moon / moon / mutt / muz / muzzle / night / paw / protect / ri / rir / ruff / roll / rough / ru/run / ruff/ruff / silv / silver / snarl / star / teeth / walk / wag / wolf / angel / angels / alt / alts / hy / hymns / omen / faith / static / fog / ghoul / spok / ghost / spirit / sea / salt.

gender(s) - neutrois , ANALOGARGIC , ANOMALOTHING , unalimfort , ANALOGENDER , Casiboy , horrorloggender , ☆ » CREEPTHEDRIC , Camtromatos , Monichrine , Horrorslushie , Horrorigender , Horrorfem , Fogforestic , Forestgender , Forestwolfgender , Forestwolfsprintic , Howlgender , Neigean , Nightforfulmoonic , Northwolfic , Noxlibic , Redwoodgender , Sillywolfic , Snowfallgender , Aiaspec , Aingender , Aporagender , Asterfluid , Celestian , Cosmosflux ,

Demineutral , Demineutrois , Eafluid , Galaxian , Gender neutral , Genderflor , Gendersylph , Hydrangeaflux , Nebularian , Neumasc , Snowmoonlic , Snowynightgender , Starforestaesic , Tundrawolfgender , Wolfbitic , Wolfforestic , Wolfgender , Wolfmoonbodiement , Wolfmoonic , Wolforigender , Wolfpawic , Wolfplushigender , Wolfstarmoonic , Wolfthing, Horrormasc , Horrorhoard , Darkhyperfixic , Inhorsycic , Eldhorric , Horrorstorycollectic , Analoghorrorgender , Mascanalog , Femanalog , Analogender , ELDRITCHANALOG , PURIDITIC , altvocaldernic , ALDERNATE , notworthriskquoteic.

role(s) - anchor , sleeper , hygienist , protector , sibling figure.

species - wolf / dog , could be wolf / dog / human hybrid creature if using a humanish face claim or possibly some form of shapeshifter between. ghostkin.

source(s) - brainmade.

emoji(s) - 🐺 , 🌑 , 💤 , 🔉 , 🐚 , 💧 , 🌊 , 🌫 , 🌧 , 🌥 , ☁️ , 💭 , 🎞 , 📼 , 🔌 , 📺.

likes - night walks , taking naps , sleeping , staying clean , swimming , water in general , showers and baths , quiet dark rooms , music , moon themes , analog horror , old movies , the truman show , people x trusts , stretching in the mornings , ghosts , pets.

dislikes - being too hot , having to talk in front of too many people , people vae don't trust , stomachaches , being tired for too long , back pain (especially due to sleeping in the worst possible positions).

personality description - Callum is a rather friendly part , it keeps to themselves oftentimes , but when around someone x trusts arf can be semi-talkative , usually speaking about things such as movies thy recently watched , or old classics they enjoy rewatching often. they also have an interest in analog horror and horror medias in general. teeth often tries to keep to an alright sleep routine , though cani can mess it up easily by taking naps in the middle of the day if star feels like doing so.

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 )

[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.