#pesky blinders thoughts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

warnersister · 8 months ago

Text

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie🧸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur🍺

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John🥃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonnie🥊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah♟️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael🎱

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn🎞️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎞️“Nice.”

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caffeinetheif · 2 years ago

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Farm Chores

@drunk-on-lemonade you are so right and you need to say it louder. This idea is so funny and I had so much fun writing it!! Thank you for indulging me in my desire of going back home to my family farm lol.

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!Farmer!MC

Warnings: None, other than Luci beefing with a chicken lol

Lucifer had become curious about your homelife when you mentioned that you missed seeing your livestock. He had asked you questions about it and you revealed that your family owns a farm with beef cattle, chickens, and even a few acres of corn and soy bean fields.

On a whim, you invited him to come along with you up to the human world when your parents needed you to keep an eye on the farm. Much to your surprise, he agreed. He never seemed like one that would be interested in learning about rural living.

Which is how you got into the current situation of making Lucifer dress in grubby farm clothes.

“MC, why exactly are you having me put on... what did you call them?”

“They’re called muck boots, Lucifer,” you grin, “you’re coming to do chores with me, after all!”

“And what are these ‘chores’ that we’ll be doing?”

“We need to feed the cattle and give them hay, check for calves, and feed the chickens. We’ll also need to collect eggs. Since it isn’t planting or harvest time yet, we don’t need to worry about going to check on the crops.”

You slip on your own muck boots and tuck your pants into them to keep them clean. Lucifer follows your lead and tucks his own pants into his boots. You grab two pairs of leather working gloves and hand one to Lucifer before walking towards the chicken coop.

Lucifer admires the land that your family’s farm sits on. The wire fence that stretches over each wooden post that surprisingly contains the 50 head of cattle. The free-range chickens that carelessly wander the land without a worry. Lucifer can understand why you miss this aspect of your life so much.

His train of thought is broken when one of the beef cows bellows at the two of you. With her is a little black calf, practically a carbon copy of the mother, nursing and occasionally headbutting its mother.

“Lucifer?”

“What is it, MC?”

“Would you mind getting the eggs while I start putting hay out for the cows? There should be a wire basket outside the coop for the eggs.”

As much as his pride hates to be told what to do, he nods. He supposes it isn’t so bad if its you. He finds the basket you mentioned and opens the door to the coop.

Lucifer is greeted by a cacophany of squaks, warbles, and clucking from the chickens in their nesting boxes. Several chickens flee from the coop, sending wood shavings and feathers flying through the air. Once the shavings and dust settle, Lucifer squats in front of the nesting boxes. He empties each nest one by one and gently places the eggs in the wire basket. As he reaches the last box, there is a hen stubbornly sitting in it. She glares daggers at him, feathers fluffed up and emmiting a bizarre croaking noise.

He reaches towards her so he can move her out of the box, but yanks his hand back as she crows loudly and pecks at his hand.

“Pesky bird,” the demon grumbles, “I need to grab your eggs, now move.”

Again, his hand reaches for the eggs below her, but is met with a sharp beak once more. This happens for a few more attempts before he decides to take one of the leather gloves and use it as a blinder for the hen. Ever so slowly, he slips the open end of the glove over her head. She pecks at the glove a couple times, but her grumbling quiets down.

For the final time, Lucifer reaches under her and succesfully retrieves all the eggs that she was sitting on. He has never been so relieved that you weren’t next to him. He snatches back his glove and glares at the hen. If chickens could talk, he is sure she would be hurling curses at him.

When he finally exits the coop with the eggs in tow, you’re finishing up setting out hay for the herd of cows surrounding you. You turn to look at him when you hear the door shut.

Cheekily, you call out to him, “That took you a while! What happened?”

Crossing his arms, Lucifer grumbles, “A chicken wouldn’t move. She was in a rather sour mood, as well.”

You laugh, “Ha, that must’ve been Roberta! She’s probably broody.”

A fierce flush crawls up his cheeks as you laugh at him. Next time, you’re going to collect eggs.

#self indlugent #I originally wanted this to be more focused on the cows but I thought luci beefing with a chicken would be funny #farmer reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me fic #obey me x reader #gender neutral fanfic #lucifer x reader #om lucifer

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lovethisbug · 2 years ago

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Baby’s names 2: Lost In Britain

After receiving an encrypted transmission requesting help from overseas Buge sets sail for Jolly Ol’ england to investigate. Upon docking on shore in London Buge sees a baby being chased down the streets by those Beefeater Guys y’know with the hats and just as they have cornered the baby in a corner of an alleyway with their bayonets pointed Buge quickly eliminates and destroys them they baby says no time to thank you for saving my life come with me the baby leads Buge down a labyrinth series of alleyways and pulls a brick and a secret underground hatch opens up and they go down into a Cyber Lair where there is a giant brain in a tank hooked up to a supercomputer the baby says this is my supercomputer it gives me all the data i need Buge says hold on who the heck are you are you the one who sent me the encrypted transmission the baby furrows their eyebrows and says i know nothing of the bloody sort buge says well if you didnt send it then who did? The baby just shrugs and says not my sodding problem Buge says okay then back to my original question…just who the heckaroo are you??? The baby sighs and swivels in their really cool looking chair with all sorts of visual displays and buttons on it and becomes silent for a moment before starting to say i am a royal baby, a prince if you will, and my family wants to name me Future King and i dont want to be named that ive seen the way that life is, its no life for a baby now thank you for saving my life truly dearly Buge i must ask you keep this a secret and leave me be i am in secret hiding here and cannot risk having my location exposed just then a smoke bomb goes off and buge and royal baby are quickly enveloped in it and coughing while the sound of many feet putter patter around them and throw nets over them and inject them with knockout liquid and everything does dark then buge wakes up in a dark room tied to a chair surrounded by babies dressed like those guys from pesky blinders but they arent like those guys just dressed like them and one of the babies says oi looks like sleeping beauty is coming too innit hello there Buge thank you for coming to help us sorry this ehn’t the ‘oliday you were hoping for mate, you see we’re the ones who sent you that message and we need your help thats when Buge starts thrashing around and screams this is how you treat your savior? The baby apologizes and explains mistakes were made in the chaos but they got confused and needed to make sure they captured the royal baby. Why the royal baby? Because you see that bloody queen of his is oppressing us chimney sweeps demanding we do sweepin’s around the clock without rest just so her precious cozy fireplaces will be working in tip top shape, at first we thought you’d be the guy to come and save us but as we tracked you from the docks you led us to a more valuable solution, kidnap that royal baby innit you see and ‘old ‘im for ransom until we get more tea breaks and stuff innit. Just then the group of babies are thrown clear from each other the royal baby has escape and is brawling with them and deftly defeating all of them with ease. After clearing the room the royal baby says no need to hold me ransom chaps because im going to become a Chimney Sweep and lead all of youse to liberation as a nation of chimney sweeps and they all agreed that was a great plan and the royal baby leads all of them to march on buckinghamd palace where they storms the gates and smash the whole place up and sweep the chimneys beyond the point of needing to be swept for years after. They throw the king and queen out a window into the Thames river and install the royal baby on the throne, dressed as a chimney sweep and they all chant all hail the Chimney Sweep roll credits

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zodiyack · 4 years ago

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Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @i-love-superhero

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

“No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

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crowwritesaway · 3 years ago

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Thomas Shelby Best Friend XIV

“John, come on.” Thomas said to John as he walk with him and Arthur.

They stopped in front of what look like a wedding.

“Who’s wedding is this?” John asked his brothers as he glanced around.

“This..this is your wedding.” Thomas said, as he grabbed his arm to prevent him from escaping.

“My wedding? Fuck off!” John told him as he tried to shove their arms off him. My wedding is with Zoey.

“Look, in order to keep peace with the Lee. An arrangement has been made. If this arrangement is broken, war will fall upon us.” Thomas told John.

John refused, “Then you marry her. I’m not marrying her.”

Thomas shook his head as he pulled his John toward the entrance of the wedding.

He nodded for the wedding to commence.

“Sit down, John.” Thomas ordered John. John gritted his teeth as he was forced to sit down. John glanced around. Zoey’s gonna hate me. She’s gonna hate me. But my family…ugh.

Zoey eyed the ring. Looks beautiful. Can’t wait to see his reaction.

“Zoey, come on. Let’s go. We are going to a wedding.” Pol said as she grabbed her bag and put on her coat.

“Wedding…for who?” Zoey mumbled, as she put the ring in her pocket.

Pol glanced at Zoey. She frowned. Oh, Tommy. You’re gonna break their hearts.

They both drove off to the wedding. They got off the car. Zoey frowned. Seems like a reunion of the Lees. Is that..peaky blinders? Could it be a pesky blinder marred off to a Lee?

She walked beside Pol. She put her cap on. Don’t trust them with my life.

“You’re here.” Ada said to Zoey as she sat next to her.

Zoey smiled at Ada and joked, “Yup, apparently someone gonna get married. Who’s the lucky gal? And the poor fella?”

Ada frowned, and angrily said, “ They didn’t tell you.”

Zoey tilted her head in confusion and asked, “What…didn’t they tell me?”

Ada scoffed as she said, “Thomas never consider us. This wedding was organized by him. Cause that’s all he ever cares about. Making sure everything falls under his order…under his plan.”

Zoey sat up and looked around as Ada ranted. She froze as she saw John next to the what appeared to be the bride.

You have got to be kidding me. Zoey laughed silently. Brilliant. Just fucking brilliant. At this point life thinks I’m a joke. Zoey thought bitterly.

Zoey calmed herself down. She looked away. Ada saw Zoey tense. She felt bad. Zoey deserved the world. She had always been pushed aside.

“You know what tonight we should party.” Ada declared. Zoey nodded, as she clicked her tongue. Her mind was filled with thought. Thoughts that wanted to lash out.

“No worries Ada.” Zoey said. She felt numb. She felt the ring in her pocket. Gotta get rid of this ring. Or maybe I should hand it to her.

Zoey watched as they were married. John looked content as if he accepted his fate. Maybe she will be good to him. Maybe this was our fate after all. Maybe I was not for John.

“Excuse me.” Jade said, as she sat on the other side of Ada.

“Oh, for Christ sake.” Ada said, glancing at Jade.

Zoey ignored Jades presence. Just what I needed.

The party has started. Zoey was smoking. Ada was off dancing. Zoey shook her head. Ada never learns. Her pain and hate is much stronger than what Tommy thinks.

Zoey flicked the cigarette after she stubbed it.

“Hey, can we talk?” Jade asked Zoey.

Zoey sighed. Peace doesn’t exist.

“Fine. What do you want?” Zoey said, standing up. Maybe she will leave me alone after.

“Let’s talk over there.” Jade said, pulling Zoey towards a empty section.

John bitterly smiled. She’s here and I can’t…be with her.

Esme smiled. He’s not too bad.

“If this how you’re trying to get Zoey…I’m afraid to tell you but the odds are not always gonna be in your favor.” Pol told Thomas as she sipped from her glass of whiskey.

Thomas nodded. He turned around looking for Zoey. He frowned. Why is Jade here? And why is she pulling Zoey away from the party?

He stood up and went their direction. Pol glanced at him and shook her head in disbelief.

Zoey pulled her hand away. Ugh, stupid feelings of mine. Why must I be easy on her? She hurt me, remember? No second chances.

“I’m sorry.” Jade said, looking at Zoey. Zoey froze. That’s a first.

“I’m sorry for trying to make you be someone that you are not. I’m sorry for making you feel like you not worthy of love. I’m sorry for listening to strangers and trying to fix what’s not broken. I’m sorry for trying to change you. I’m sorry for not appreciating you.” Jade said, gripping onto her dress.

Zoey licked her lips. No…no…no. Ugh. I shouldn’t be feeling sorry. She’s looks like she’s sorry. Maybe I was too harsh on her. Maybe..just maybe.

“I love you for you. Nothing…no one is gonna change that. I see you for you. I-I know I messed up. More than once. And I know that you are meant to be with me. We love each other. And I know it was selfish and horrible of me to want to force you to get help.” Jade ranted as she stepped closer to Zoey. I feel bad. My stomach hurts from hurting Zoey with my words and actions.

Zoey nodded as she took in Jades words. She looked down at Jade and said, “Is that all? Can I go now?”

Jade smile and nodded. Zoey went to leave. Jade bit her lip as she contemplated her next move. Screw it.

Jade pulled Zoey back and pulled her down into a kiss.

Zoey froze. She actually kissed me. That little..

Zoey went to pulled away but got lost in the kiss when Jade wrapped her arms around her neck. Wait…a kiss won’t hurt.

Zoey put her arm around Jades waist and pulled her deeper into the kiss.

Jade moaned in relief. Fuck. I forgot how good her hands felt around my waist.

Zoey sighed into kiss as her mind battled her heart. I really shouldn’t but fuck. This is my first love. My world. I don’t do second chances but mmm.

Zoey pushed Jade against a car. As Jade was gonna jump into Zoey’s arms. Zoey heard a noise that made her pull away from Jade.

Zoey glanced back. Thomas was making his way over to them.

Jade was breathing heavily. She leaned back against the car as she hungrily looked at Zoey.

Zoey turned back to look at Jade and said, “That was goodbye.”

Jade tilted her head as grinned and said, “Goodbye, mmm…I think I need a reunion. Come on, Zoey. Please reconsider our relationship. Please.”

Jade pulled on Zoey’s tie. Zoey was fighting herself.

“I’d rather not.” Zoey said, removing Jade’s hands from her.

“Zoey. I need to speak with you.” Thomas said, glaring at Jade.

Jade waved him off. Nothing can sour my mood.

Zoey nodded, as she nodded for Jade to leave.

Jade blew Zoey a kiss and left.

“What was that?” Thomas said, snapping Zoey out of her thought.

“That…that was a goodbye.” Zoey said, nodding to herself.

“Right…well. John got married.” Thomas began.

Zoey interrupted him, “About that, when whee you gonna tell me? And don’t lie to me.”

Thomas backed Zoey against the car. Zoey sighed. I’m either backing something up against a car or I’m backed up against a car.

“Have you thought about us?” Thomas asked her as he held onto her waist.

“About us? Umm…not really.” Zoey mumbled. Far from it. I was about to get married.

“Really. Maybe we need a getaway. After I deal with everything I have at the moment and then I’ll show you how we belong together.” Thomas promised Zoey.

Zoey lifted a hand and pushed Thomas away.

“I think I want to be on my own. It’s not you..it’s me. I want to be alone.” Zoey said, looking at Thomas.

Thomas nodded. I’d rather her be alone than be with someone else. Plus I have to deal with Grace.

“Alright. But, somewhere in the future. I’ll see if you make it.” Zoey playfully said to Thomas. Maybe I’ll just have fun and see what life has to offer. Note to self, stay away from Jade.

“And stop keeping me in the dark. Unless you want to make out friendship to drown in a pit of ruins. Ill let this slide because it’s probably what you thought was best for your family but next time, I won’t be so nice.” Zoey said in a cold tone.

“Let’s go stop Ada from ruining John’s wedding. Last thing we need is for her to give birth here.” Zoey said, as she walked away and he followed right after.

Thomas stayed silent as he nodded in agreement at her. I have to be careful.

Stay around for more of Thomas Shelby Best Friend

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solomons-finest-rum · 2 years ago

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You know something doesn’t make sense to me in pesky blinders I’m sorry that I’m bringing this to you😅 since I don’t have anyone to talk to haha but Grace told Tommy she and her husband were trying for a baby and the doctor thought she might be at fault, and that the next day she was going to the doctor. But when they were at epson she told him that she wasn’t at fault and that she was pregnant

Hi Anon!

Oh gosh, I’m not the expert but from what I know it was the norm until modern times to always blame the woman for these things (and most others) 🤷‍♀️ so it’s very possible Grace’s husband was infertile.

Though I still despise the woman and think he deserved better.

#anon ask #ask #Grace Burgess slander #We hate Grace club

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nonagesimus · 4 years ago

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2 6 14 :)

2. overall worst season

season 14. literally can’t remember most of it except the extremely dumb nick plot even though he would have died in season 5, and michael!dean which. it sucked. i’m sorry jackles, your pesky blinders phase was weird and bad.

6. most compelling dynamic (outside of the brothers)

JOHN AND HIS BOYS like god the end of season one/beginning of season two is SO GOOD and as much as Lebanon emotionally destroys me, personally, i wish they’d been able to delve a little more into how fucked up things got.

if they had actually like. delivered on the promise of Mary she’d be up there too but sadly that is just interesting in theory.

the world in which they actually went hard on the fucked up family dynamic with the angels is a utopia like. put the runs in the family amv on loop.

14. Thoughts on the Harvelles

HUGE missed opportunity. The show really should have done more with the idea of people on the fringes of hunting than it did - i know kripke hated the idea of the roadhouse because he thought it was a clubhouse but its very clearly not, like, it’s a bar, it’s just one that hunters know they can find other hunters at which makes sense for literally any subculture. you find places to gather. in terms of ellen and jo SPECIFICALLY ellen was more interesting when she had a base to stick with and it never made sense that she just started hunting when the roadhouse burned down, and the dynamic between dean and jo was forced but i adore her as a character (i have loved alona tal for many years tho so i’m biased).

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years ago

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Promises Not Kept Part 2

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 2: Tommy can’t keep Leah out of his head. Leah can’t accept what he’s offering her.

“Tom.” Arthur rapped at the doorjamb as he entered the dimly lit office.

“Yeah, Arthur, come in.” Tommy waved his brother into the office.

“Something the matter?” Arthur asked as he sat. “You’ve been…not yourself the past few days.”

Tommy’s piercing eyes gazed out the window. “Do you happen to remember Jonah Ward?” He chose not to comment on his brother’s observation. He knew he wasn’t himself since that night with Leah.

“Sounds a bit familiar.”

“He was in France with us. I was there when he died.”

Arthur nodded slowly. Tommy rarely, if ever, talked about their time in France. He seemed keen to lock it away and never dig the memories back up. But they’d always be there for all of them, never quieting in the silence of the night.

“Yeah, think I can picture the face. Why’d you bring him up?”

“I promised to take care of his wife ‘fore he died.” He absent-mindedly ran his thumb over his chin. “I never did try to find her. Now she works at Midland.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re fucking her.” It was a reasonable assumption. Tommy had gone a little off the rails after Grace died. He was unstable, to say the least, and partaking in some questionable activities. But that was Tommy.

His brother nodded slowly.

“And how much is she asking for?”

Tommy’s blue eyes moved from the window. “Nothing, that’s the problem.” He muttered. “She won’t take any help, I’ve offered her a job, fucking anything and she turned it down.”

Arthur came to an understanding. “You feel guilty, then.” He surmised.

The Blinder rolled his eyes. Of course, he felt guilty but he wasn’t fond of people pointing out his emotions. He was meant to be a stoic man; capable of whatever it took to get to the top of the food chain. “I’m looking for advice, not a fucking talk ‘bout feelings, Arthur.”

“We were raised to uphold our promises, we pay our debts, Tom,” Arthur spoke with gentle insistence. But he didn’t want to rub salt in the wound. “S’pose you can’t force her to take anything, but don’t hurt to try one more time. If she says no, then you’ve done what you can.”

“She looks a little like Grace,” Tommy admitted in a daze. He couldn’t get the image of Leah out of his head and his thoughts were in turmoil over that fact.

Arthur sighed. “She in’t Grace.”

“I know.” He spoke in a voice barely above a gravelly whisper. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leah couldn’t bring herself to go back to the hotel. She needed a few days to clear her head without running the risk of seeing Tommy. She was afraid that if he returned, she wouldn’t be able to restrain herself. His request was a decision she needed to make with a sound mind, not in a lust-addled state.

But, she still needed to work in order to survive. So the next night she went to the brothel owned by the woman she worked for.

“What’re you doing here?” Madame Rosetta was a stern woman who only enjoyed a profit. A tall, hardened woman, she didn’t care much for the girls in her employ but tended to treat the Midland hotel ones better. Usually, because they made her more money and kept up a constant flow of wealthy patrons.

Leah could hardly meet her cold gaze. “Was hoping to work here for a few nights.”

“You givin’ up your spot?” She raised an eyebrow. “’Cause I’ve got other girls who’d kill ya to work there.”

“N-no, no, I know. I just needed a break from the girls there.” She lied.

Rosetta didn’t care about catty behavior between her girls as long as it didn’t interfere with her business. “Fine, two nights.” She relented and waved her away.

It had been almost three years since Leah worked at the brothel. She recognized only a few faces around the front room and bar. There was always a high turnover of women. She’d gotten accustomed to the quiet and space she was granted between clients. Now she had to weave her way through the rowdy area. Drunk men spoke loudly to one another with girls laughing and hanging off them to score tips.

It wasn’t long before a man grabbed Leah by the wrist. “Why don’t ya take me back to yer room, love?” The man was an average visitor of the den of sin. Middle-aged, working class, slightly untidy from a day’s work or a night’s drinking, and grabby.

Leah forced a smile. Her stomach turned when she realized she would give anything to be alone with Tommy in that very moment. But she had nothing to give. So she led the man to the back rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy did his best to keep control of the reins. He needed to be sharp, quick thinking and acting swiftly on his feet. He needed to be one step ahead of his enemies and those he was suspicious of. But Leah wouldn’t leave his mind. After speaking to Arthur, he returned to the hotel to try again. But Billy informed him that she wasn’t in. Unsure of where she was, the man couldn’t offer Tommy any explanations. He tried again the night after that but Billy had the same news. Leah hadn’t shown up.

It got to the point that Tommy was afraid for her safety and afraid she was intentionally avoiding him.

He sent word out to a few men about her. Someone alerted that she’d been seen at Madame Rosetta’s brothel. So Tommy went there first. But again, he was informed she wasn’t there. Instead, the barmaid said she’d gone back to the hotel. Unbelievably frustrated, Tommy went back to the hotel for the third night in a row. He didn’t have time to chase one woman around London. But he felt like if he gave up, he’d never forget and would never be at peace with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was pouring as he left the car and walked up the hotel steps. He shook out his coat as he headed to the second floor.

Billy saw the Shelby looking a little worse for wear. He hadn’t been sleeping, was surviving off of cigarettes and alcohol, and had about a million stressors poking at his side. Now he stood there, drenched from the rain and certainly intent on something.

“Mr. Shelby, can I get you a whiskey?” Billy offered.

“Can you send her out to me?” Tommy wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. He was fed up with given the roundabout.

His face wrinkled in concern. Not many people were fond of telling a Shelby news they didn’t want to hear and Billy had done it twice in the past two days. “I’m afraid she’s just gone back with another gentleman.”

Exasperated and impatient beyond belief, Tommy started for the hallway. He rounded a corner and saw familiar blonde hair. “Leah.” He called with an unwavering assertion.

She turned and her eyes widened. “Tommy…”

“I need to speak with you.” His quiet voice was demanding simply because he was desperate. The thought of her had driven him up the wall and he couldn’t waste any more time.

“C’mon.” The client intended for Leah protested. It didn’t matter; he was nothing but a pesky fly so Tommy ignored him.

“I know what you said but-”

“Tommy, please. Now’s not the time.” Shame settled over Leah. She longed for Tommy but she had to do what she needed to survive.

“I had no idea where you were. Were fucking worried ‘bout you.”

“For God’s sake.” The man threw his hands up in disbelief.

“I was fine. Please, if you’d just wait…”

Tommy continued to completely block out the presence of the client. “Just come talk to me.” His blue eyes were yearning.

“Look, mate, you can have her after I’ve finished. That’s what she’s supposed to do.”

A spark lit inside Tommy, boiling his blood in an instant. “Fucking what?” He whipped around to finally face the man.

Either he didn’t recognize the Blinder or was unaware, so he went on without knowledge of the peril. “You and I probably couldn’t count how many times she takes it every night. I mean she is a whore.”

Tommy snapped. He punched him so hard that the man’s head ricocheted off the nearby wall.

Cursing and clutching his face, the man doubled over. “What the fuck?” He shouted.

He went to deliver another well-deserved blow when Leah forcefully stepped in. She shoved Tommy’s chest to keep him at bay. “What the hell is your problem?” She cried.

His anger was hard to pull back in once it was unleashed. Tommy never liked to let a man escape his grip. But he wouldn’t overpower Leah. He put pressure against her hands to try and coax her to step aside but she stood her ground.

A few of the girls came out of the room to see what the commotion was. Billy had heard the shouting as well and rushed over. He hurried to usher the man down the hall and back to the lobby. The police wouldn’t be called. No one would speak a word about it.

Except for Leah that is. She grabbed him by the chin to make him look at her. “Answer me!” She demanded. “What is your problem?”

Tommy’s anger simmered and he swallowed hard. Her fingernails dug into his pale skin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. He didn’t speak.

She let out a noise of frustration and opened the room that she was about to enter before he interrupted. “You’re making a scene.” She urged him inside.

Tommy ran a hand through his still-damp hair and paced a little. “This is my last time, I promise.” He muttered.

“What gives you the right to act that way?” She wouldn’t let him control the conversation like he so often did in his life. The woman crossed her arms over her chest.

He looked at her with wounded eyes. She was beautiful in a dark blue dressing gown, her hair curled, and makeup done up. His insides twisted up and he wanted to drop to his knees for her. Wanted her to bring him back to that place. The high that nothing or no one could bring him.

“I know what you said to Jonah, but-but he had no right to decide my life for me. I make my own decisions.” Leah’s arms tightened around herself and she couldn’t get him to speak. “You’ve gone and slept with every other girl here. You paid them but you didn’t care that they were with other men before and afterward. Now you suddenly care because you feel like you owe me something?” Her forehead wrinkled and her eyes watered. She wanted to be angry but there was only grief and confusion left in her body.

Tommy stood stiff, like a soldier awaiting orders. “I need you.” He finally spoke. The words came out unusually weak. His initial reason for being there was thrown out the window. She wouldn’t accept money or help so maybe she’d accept him instead. A terrible alternative to money, in his opinion, but he was selfishly desperate for her.

Her painted lips parted in disbelief. A tear slipped down her powdered cheeks. “What do you want with me, Tommy?” She begged for an answer.

He didn’t know for sure. There were many reasons that came to mind but he wasn’t sure if they originated from his ego, his loneliness, or from the heart. He stepped towards her and tilted his chin down.

“Answer me.” She whispered, her breath shakily passing over his neck.

“I can’t.”

Leah knew that despite the two days away from him, she hadn’t come to a conclusion about him. He was an enigma. Maybe it was something she couldn't figure out until she immersed herself in him. Took his hand and followed him into the obscure haze. So she kissed him.

His lips weren’t desperate like they had been the last times. He moved slow and patiently. A hand cupped her cheek so tenderly it made more tears escape her brown eyes. It had been so long since someone showed her true affection. Tommy’s motives were unknown but there wasn’t denying the softness in his touch.

He drew away and used his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Let me take you away from here.”

The idea sounded heavenly, escaping the hotel, the clients, Madame Rosetta. She could be free of the sickening feeling she got every time she woke up and faced her fate.

“I can’t.”

“You’re stubborn like me.” He didn’t move his hand, cradling her face. “I’ll leave you be if you wish, but just know I’ll never forget about you.” He shook his head. “You don’t know how numb I’ve been. Fucking every day…nothing. But m’not numb to you.”

Leah touched the scar on his cheek. She had been numb since she accidentally cut her finger while opening the letter of condolence for Jonah. Her knees didn’t feel the impact of the floor as she fell. Her ears blocked out her own screams. She didn’t feel the touch of other men. The burn of alcohol and taste of cigarettes on her lips. But she could feel Tommy. The way his fingers dug into her hips, his lips hot against hers, the heavenly sounds of his moans, and his weight against her. She felt his hand on her cheek.

“You don’t want me. I’ve nothing to give you. My heart’s broken.” Her voice was thick with tears.

Tommy reached for her hand and placed it over his chest. “Mine is too.”

Her knees buckled when she felt his heart beating through his shirt. He supported her weight as she crumbled. “Take me away from here, Tommy.” She sobbed. “I can’t face it anymore. I can’t cope. I can’t…”

Tommy hushed her softly and pulled her to his chest. “I will.” He promised.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #angst #fluff

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ohshcscenerios · 5 years ago

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Could you do a HC of the angsty events that lead up to Kyoya and Haruhi confessing their feelings for each other and becoming a couple? I ship them so hard. 🙃 Thank you 💞💞

I apologize for my late response, it took me a while to decide how to answer this. Also please don’t be upset if it’s not very good, I literally wrote and uploaded this at 4:03am. I couldn’t decided between headcanons or writing a one-shot so I wrote... this? I hope you enjoy.

Kyoya didn’t think much about the Host Club’s new addition; only keeping a sharp eye on her debt as she slowly paid it back with her services. However, a year mingling with the host maiden proved detrimental to his indifferent attitude. Beginning his second year he couldn’t be bothered with the opposite sex. His main priority in being named heir to the Ootori Group was greedy and didn’t allow room for anything else, least of all love. Nearing the end of his second year his foolish heart had convinced his foolish mind to at consider the foolish emotion; love.

Haruhi had once considered herself level-headed; not as to brag but considering her straight forwarded nature it seemed to fit best. Her serious personality steered her on a straight path towards her goal. There was no time for bee-lining through life. She could stop and smell the roses once she finished her studies - once she graduated - once she got accepted into college - once she obtains her law degree - once she’s hired onto a law firm - etc. etc. She was a human bulldozer with horse blinders secured in place. So how did one year in serving the host club manage to loosen her reins and make her step out of line?

Kyoya began noticing the little things first; how she tapped her pencil against the notebook paper when she was deep in thought, how long she steeped a tea bag for her preferred strength, how often she glanced at the clock when a she was expecting a supermarket sale to begin within the hour. He shouldn’t have paid any mind to these miniscule details for they served him no purpose. He cursed himself for even retaining the useless knowledge. Why would he bother himself with such fickle things that wouldn’t provide an ounce of merit in the future? The only considerable benefit was that he knew Haruhi a tad better than before.

Haruhi didn’t like noticing Kyoya’s quick glances as she busied herself hosting her guests. It proved to be a distraction. Haruhi hated that his brief glimpses of attention was distracting her. She wanted to focus on pouring tea for her giggling guests and recalling precious memories of her late mother to move her guests to tears. She wanted to focus on lowering her debt – the cursed debt that trapped her afternoons in music room three. She didn’t want to focus on her debtor.

Kyoya asked Haruhi to stay behind one afternoon to discuss the details about her debt. He didn’t often offer this liberty for he felt it wasn’t truly her business. Her responsibility was to lower the debt. His responsibility was to manage it. So far their mutual agreement carried on smoothly without any suspicious questioning or accusations. However that day Kyoya felt he should allow Haruhi to see her progress. The act of kindness didn’t offer him merit. There was nothing he could gain from Haruhi learning her progress. There was nothing Haruhi could gain either. So why? He pondered that question throughout hosting hours until his door of opportunity was wide open. Before she left for the day he called her over with a lazy wave of his hand.

Haruhi didn’t appreciate his tone. She didn’t appreciate his sly smirk as he reasoned the high interests and the damaged tea sets that somehow landed on her bill. He almost sounded condescending as if he enjoyed toying with her. Her freedom wasn’t something he could yo-yo for his amusement. The very thought made her sick. How could this faux egoist flaunt her debt like… like… like he’d own her forever. She would forever be under his thumb, scrambling for a foothold that would never appear. Haruhi feared she would never be rid of Kyoya Ootori.

Kyoya noticed Haruhi parted her hair differently one day. Usually she parted her bangs to the left but that day she parted her bangs to the right. It wasn’t a beneficial detail and he silently cursed himself for even noticing – yet he couldn’t help but like the sudden change. It was subtle enough to not draw attention but just enough to draw his attention.

Haruhi wanted to part her hair different that day. The sudden urge was thanks to the Hitachiin twins. She had overheard them spatting nonsense to their fellow male classmates before their sensei started class. They rambled on and on about how to coax forth a love interest living in the shadows. They bragged about their experiences in drawing forth the many young ladies who had crushes on them just by changing a slight detail in their appearance. If the young lady noticed the change then her heart belonged to them. That day Haruhi parted her hair differently to test the obnoxious theory. She had to question why she wanted to test it but an inkling urged her to go through with her plan.

Kyoya quickly adjusted his glasses when Haruhi noticed his persistent staring. However he didn’t notice her smallest of smiles after he looked away.

Haruhi was surprised to learn Kyoya was the only host to notice her little change that day. That night she lied awake in bed mulling over the same scene; over and over and over until it nearly charred her memory. She remembered how Kyoya adjusted his cool exterior after being caught by her assertive eyes. She remembered the slight blush on his cheeks. She remembered his guests swooning over his brief dishevelment, thinking their endearing flirts caused their cool host to stumble over himself. Haruhi smiled, knowing the truth was much weirder. The truth that Haruhi’s parted hair made Kyoya Ootori blush.

Kyoya wasn’t a stranger to long sleepless nights for they became his routine many years ago. He was fond of the silence of night, the chaotic clatter from his keyboard, and the occasional warm cup of tea. However that night Kyoya attempted to retire early. He prayed for sleep to befall him and deliver him from his pesky thoughts. That night Haruhi haunted his mind and he couldn’t shake her loose no matter how much melatonin he swallowed or how many prayers he offered to the ceiling. He couldn’t fall asleep with her in his mind. He couldn’t fall asleep without her on his mind. He simply couldn’t fall asleep and no matter the angle it was Haruhi’s fault. It was her fault for parting her hair to the right.

Haruhi greeted the next day with confusion heavily sitting on her chest. Her dreams were pleasant. Her dreams were of Kyoya. Pleasant and Kyoya were two words she never dreamed of stringing together in the same sentence and yet that’s exactly what happened. She had dreamed of Kyoya and she woke up… happy.

Kyoya woke up entangled in his silk sheets and growled at the sunlight pouring over his face. He would have a stern talking to the new maid for drawing his curtains before due time. He never cared for a rude awakening. When he moved to sit up he felt another very strange and very uncomfortable rude awakening… particularly one that stood at attention between his thighs. He had dreamed of Haruhi and woke up… happy.

Haruhi walked into an empty music room. It was strange considering she was three minutes late. Her tardiness wasn’t unusual but the silence was.

“Haruhi, you’re late.” Kyoya stood from his hosting couch and leaned against the arm’s rest.

“It appears so is everyone else.” Haruhi searched the music room but found no one else. No one but Kyoya Ootori.

“They are not late for they are not coming. I gave the afternoon off.”

“It would have been nice to know that Kyoya-senpai otherwise I’d gone home an hour ago.” Haruhi miffed.

“I didn’t want you to go home. I wanted you to come here.” Kyoya adjusted his glasses.

“Why?”

“How do you feel towards me Haruhi?” His eyes studied her closely as he spoke, determined to have this conversation. Haruhi had haunted his mind for far too long and he needed his rambunctious thoughts to obey him once more. If that meant inviting Haruhi into his life romantically then so be it. So be it.

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.” Haruhi didn’t want to understand what he was asking. She didn’t want to venture down the rabbit hole that she feared she’d inevitably dive into one day. The dark deep endless hole that is the beginning whispers of love.

“I believe you do.” He retorted.

“I should get going if I’m not needed today.” Haruhi turned to make her exit but was forced to a stop when two form hands gripped her arms. She was spun around and staring straight into a mad man’s eyes; a hungry mad man’s eyes. Kyoya seemed unnerved – no, distressed – and his intense glare sent shivers down her petite body.

“I need you to get out.” He nearly growled.

“I was about to before you grabbed me.” Haruhi barked back, anger coloring her cheeks a shaded red.

“No, I need you to get out of my mind.” Kyoya corrected, leaning forward until he nearly rested his forehead on hers. The intense dangerous emotions that heated his body just seconds earlier left his widened eyes and gnarled teeth; loosening his tense expression.

“Get out of my head.” Kyoya nearly pleaded. He closed the space between them and captured her gaped lips in a spontaneous kiss. Her skin against his skin. His breath merged with her breath. Her hesitance bowed to his hunger. His hand found her slender waist. Her fingers found his raven hair.

Haruhi pulled away for a fresh breath, long enough to see his charged dark eyes staring into her chocolate wells.

“You don’t want me to leave.” She said.

“No.” Kyoya agreed. He pulled her close once more, sealing her virgin lips with another kiss.

There was no merit for Kyoya to pursue the commoner. Her social status offered no valuable connections and her low-grade upbringing didn’t teach her a lady’s natural grace. He reasoned her two left feet would spark unfavorable gossip at Galas, her never ending appetite would be looked down upon by even his maids, and her blunt lethargic personality couldn’t keep up with the demanding life of an Ootori. And yet, Kyoya wanted her.

Haruhi found Kyoya to be an enigma; a kind selfless man wrapped in a cold callous shell. She learned to tip toe around him without ever being asked. She knew when to hold her tongue and her breath. His warped reality forced him to march on a difficult and reclusive path. She watched him swallow his loneliness for this sake of his pride; wiping his brow and adjusting his glasses to refocus his priorities. He didn’t ask for help, didn’t smile often, and enjoyed looking down on his opponents. And yet, Haruhi wanted him.

#kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #kyoharu #ohshc #i don't know what to call this #forgive any grammar mistakes

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survivingthejungle · 5 years ago

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Little Lies iv.

I LIIIIIIVE

When the rest of the Shelby family had gotten up that morning, it was revealed that they were going down to take care of business with a family called the Golds at a place referred to as ‘Charlie’s yard.’ Your mother and father were adamant about not wanting to be any more associated with their ‘business’ than they already were and Tommy understood. He did, however, point out that with the entire family gone, the three of you were to be alone in the house; therefore he appointed a handful of new Blinder boys to keep watch of the house and the family inside of it (he emphasized that they were to protect the ‘girl’ first, but neither you nor your parents knew that little detail).

Hours and hours later a handful returned, after having belated Christmas dinner right out in the open. Tommy was still nowhere to be seen and you’d heard in passing that he was likely still at Charlie’s, drunker than hell. In the rain a policeman came knocking on the door, but before it was revealed that he was a policeman Linda came downstairs with a gun in her hand, ready to shoot. You stood at the top of the stairs watching her while your parents were back getting ready for bed.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Inspector Moss.” She handed the gun to you with instructions to go and put it on her bed. When you came back downstairs she was still at the door and the officer wanted to leave a message for Tommy with her. You hid behind the wall, not wanting to be seen but wanting to hear what he had to say. “The, uh, intelligence officers in London have sent seven officers up to Birmingham… to take over the investigation into the communists and seditionists. They’ve got a list of people of great interest and, uh, top of that list is Ada Thorne, formerly Shelby. Now, they seem to think that she came back from New York to organize a revolution in Birmingham.”

“Well tell them they’re wrong,” Linda corrected him. You didn’t know Ada too well but she was very sweet, even though a little intense. “Ada Shelby’s now firmly back in place in the family business.”

“Thing is, when you get a mark against your name… it’s very hard to shift it. They will come looking for her.”

“Well, tell them there’s a queue; everybody wants a Shelby.”

“Mrs. Shelby,” the officer interrupted, getting clearly bothered by her stance. “These are military men, no less dangerous than any Italians. You tell Tommy. I think he’ll understand.” The officer then wished her a good night and left as she turned her back and shut the door. You stepped down off of the last stair.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, even though you knew it was not.

She put on a brave face for you. “Yes, dear, everything’s alright. Just a pesky policeman. Nothing to fret about. Would you like some tea?” she asked, leading you into the kitchen. You took a seat at the table.

“Yes please.”

She began filling up the kettle and placed it on the stove. “Better get right to bed after this; a young girl needs her beauty rest.” She smiled maternally at you. You knew that she and Arthur had a son but something about interacting with her gave you the feeling that she desperately wanted a daughter, as well. You also got the feeling that she would find a surrogate daughter in you.

The two of you drank your evening tea in relative silence and you went back up to bed, passing Tommy’s room on the way. You peeked inside; it was empty. Figured, you hadn’t seen anyone come inside. Yet you were still mildly disappointed that he still hadn’t returned. You looked both ways down the hallway to check for anyone who may have seen you. When you realized no one had done so, you crept slowly into his room, shut the door, and curled up under the covers.

You didn’t like knowing that Tommy was out and about somewhere where he may be getting harmed, but being in his room and his bed gave you a sense of comfort. The pillow and the blankets all smelled like him, and that mixed with the gentle warmth of so many covers lulled you off to sleep.

In the early hours of the morning you became groggily half-aware of your surroundings. There was a dip at the edge of the bed, the sound of someone removing their shoes, and then someone slipping in to bed behind you. “Tommy?” you whispered, almost inaudible.

His hand stroked your head and he wrapped an arm around you over the covers. “Shh, go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

—

You were awoken at six in the morning, told to be ready by seven, and made to leave at eight. Sometime during the entire morning fiasco you were informed by Tommy that you were to go with him to the factory that day and meet a boy named Bonnie Gold. Strange name, you thought, but figured it was just a British thing you weren’t used to. Your parents had been informed that you were going on an outing because ‘as a young girl, you shouldn’t be expected or forced to stay in a small house all day’, and that ‘you ought to get acquainted with some people your own age’. They gave their blessings and you were off.

Tommy opened the door for you like a true gentleman, shut it, and got in on the other side before he said anything substantial to you. “You’re not going to the factory to meet Bonnie Gold.” You looked at him quizzically. “You’re coming with me so I can keep an eye on you.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you felt a bit incredulous. “Me? Did I do something wrong?” You couldn’t imagine why he would feel the need to ‘keep an eye’ on you all day unless he thought you’d do something wild.

“Oh, yes; you’re quite the troublemaker,” he smirked and tapped your nose. You scrunched your face and swatted him away. He got more serious as he started the car and began driving. “I’d feel better if I could keep you close all day. Know no one is gonna come after you, then.”

Your heart fluttered and your stomach erupted into butterflies. You said nothing in response, but you did grab his hand, smile sweetly, and place your head on this shoulder.

He let out a heavy breath. “Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

—

Tommy and the other Blinders who accompanied you into the building were strutting like there was no tomorrow; their eyes were cold and focused and anyone who looked at them could see that no matter what went down— they meant business. You struggled to keep up but managed not to fall too far behind Tommy when a man (who you assumed to be in charge while he was away) approached him. “Mr. Shelby; thank God you’re back. We’ve got real trouble.”

If Tommy was at all fazed by the statement, he didn’t show it. “What meetings do I have today?” he asked, disregarding the information.

“Um, well, there’s a supplier from Coventry at ten; uh, the convener with the boilermakers unit at eleven, and then Chamber of Commerce at one. But that isn’t the thing--”

Tommy interrupted him. “Right. Clear the space here,” he began, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, “Move this car back, give me a hundred feet of rope and a bell.” You looked at him with knitted brows; what was he planning to do? You couldn’t imagine it had anything to do with his meetings for the day. The gentleman next to him was as confused as you.

“Rope?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Yep. And a bell.”

The man couldn’t have it. “Mr. Shelby, this place is about to explode,” he whispered sharply.

Tommy seemingly didn’t care at all. “A rope and a bell, Devlin,” he repeated, taking a drag. He motioned to you and Bonnie, as well as the older man next to him. “Bonnie, (Y/N), this way.” Before you could even register what he’d told the two of you, he was already moving. You did a brisk run-walk to catch up. You walked closely behind him, feeling very intimidated by all of the hard-looking men around you, the loud clang of metal on metal, and the sparks flying from every direction. “There he is, Billy Mills,” Tommy called out, his Brummie accent clearly evident. “Former heavyweight champion: Staffordshire, Warwickshire, and Worcestershire. Hello, Billy,” he greeted the man, who was sweating from the furnace he was working so closely to.

“Yeah,’ Billy responded. “And now I work for you, Mr. Shelby, for not enough money.”

You began to feel nervous about this encounter. Was it about to get belligerent? You really weren’t in the mood to see two very large, very strong, grown-ass men get into a fight over money. Tommy just looked at him and took another drag.

Instead of getting angry, he pulled out a wad of cash and held it out to the man. “Right. That enough for you?” Holy shit, you thought, I don’t know much about British currency yet, but that has to be a lot of money.

Billy was wary of it, and you didn’t blame him at all. “Enough for what?”

“Someone here who wants to fight you,” Tommy told him. “Bonnie Gold. Come here, son.” Bonnie approached the man. “I’m an ‘eavyweight,” Billy warned, gesturing to Bonnie. “He’s a welterweight at best.”

Tommy nor Bonnie much cared about that. “Nevertheless, he wants to fight you.”

“Yeah. And then when I damage him, the Blinders will take my eyes.” Oh, Jesus. That’s graphic.

Tommy shook his head at the man. “No come-back Billy. Just a fight. Queensbury rules.” You wondered what that meant but kept your mouth shut. He began to walk away and you trailed after him dutifully, like a puppy following its owner. You briefly entertained the idea that that was exactly what your relationship was. Billy then called out to him.

“When?”

“Now!” Tommy yelled back.

“Where?”

“Here!”

“Tommy?” you asked, voice much quieter than you intended it to be. He slowed his pace a bit and allowed you to walk side-by-side with him, looking down to you.

“Yes, love?”

“What’s going on?” you finally asked.

“Keep up, little girl,” he poked fun at you; “There’s to be a fight.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you retorted. “But like… why?”

He just winked at you and kept walking. “You’ll see.” The two of you came to stand at the edge of the makeshift boxing ring while Arthur went around placing bets with several of the workers. He then leaned down slightly and spoke quietly into your ear. “For lack of a better term, Bonnie Gold’s going to kick his ass.”

You nudged him with the side of your elbow. “Watch your words,” you joked. He smiled softly (so that his men couldn’t see him show emotion of any kind). The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and you looked up at him once more.

He truly looked like the most beautiful man God had ever created in that moment. He was focused on the action going on within the ring, but you could see the light from outside glint softly in his ocean eyes. He jaw was sharp and set and his lips just looked so lovely…

You wrapped your arms around his and he looked down at you again, very softly. “My men are never gonna respect me again if they think I’ve gone all soft for you,” he warned, but there was a playful tone in his voice. You smiled up at him in response, and lay your head against his arm. You were calm and content in the moment-- then the fight between Bonnie and Billy began. You turned your head against Tommy’s arm, only allowing one eye to peek at the fight. “What,” Tommy teased, “My brave girl’s afraid of a boxing match?” “I just don’t wanna see them kill each other; that’s all,” you defended.

“They’ll be all right,” he assured, and turned his attention back.

—

Tommy was right. Bonnie absolutely kicked the man’s ass. By the time the fight was over- which was not long after it began- Billy was laying on the ground with a bloody nose, unconscious. Arthur chucked. “Fuck me. That was a punch.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” you muttered, eyes wide. The two Shelbys laughed at that. Then Bonnie came over to his father and Tommy began to question him.

“Does he have fits?” “No,” the man answered.

“Asthma?”

“No.”

“How’s he cut?” Arthur added.

“Well, no one’s cut him yet, but his skin’s thick.”

“Does he drink?”

“Water. Sometimes.”

“How many fights?”

“Twenty-five, bare knuckle, all knockouts. Five with gloves in pastures, all knockouts.”

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed. Tommy looked at you pointedly; silencing you immediately. “Sorry.”

“Against Romany fighters?” Arthur asked.

“That’s why they won’t let us in the fairs no more! He keeps winning!”

Bonnie cut in for himself. “I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out, Mr. Shelby.

Devlin, the man from before, approached Tommy just then. “Mrs. Eden is waiting upstairs.” “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. Arthur?” he nodded his head and began walking away and you walked with him, unsure of where to be. “Just a minute, love,” he told you, and walked on with Arthur while you stayed put.

Once he was out of earshot he continued.

“What was that about?” Arthur asked.

“She doesn’t need to know this bit. What do you think?” he asked quietly.

—

The two brothers rejoined you soon enough and walked over to Bonnie and his father, offering him a deal the boy simply couldn’t refuse. The Shelbys would take him on- sponsor him- and in return they would get a good sum of money from all of his winnings. Then Tommy was on to his meeting with the woman Eden and left you in Arthur’s charge. “What was I not allowed to hear about?” you asked him.

“Oh, nothin’ important,” he mused, not making eye contact. “Just business talk is all. Nothin’ you need to worry your little ‘ead about. Now, c’mon,” he gestured, leading you outside of the factory, “How about we get ourselves some food to eat?”

—

Later that afternoon, when you and Arthur had returned from lunch, the factory was completely empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked.

He grumbled. “Out on fucking strike,” he responded. “Fucking hell.” He turned to you. “Go on up to Tommy’s office. He should be there. Jessie Eden’s gone by now.”

“Okay. Bye, Arthur. Thank you for lunch.” He gave you a small smile and a curt nod and you were on your way. You knocked on the door to Tommy’s office and waited for him to answer.

“Come in!” he called. Once he saw you his gaze softened. “Ah, there’s my little bird.” You smiled and headed over to him. He had stood up by now and embraced you warmly. “Did you behave yourself?”

“Yes, Tommy,” you promised, and he kissed the top of your head in response.

“Good girl. Give me a minute and we can go take a walk outside for a bit.” Another knock on the door. “Yeah, come in.” It was Devlin again.

“I did say this would happen,” he pointed to the window. Tommy ignored that.

“Who’s next?”

“Um, he’s a, a delegate from the European Council for Trade. He’s here to talk about the import of car parts to France.” “Right.”

“He’s come all the way from Paris… But, given the circumstances, I could send him away?”

Tommy considered it for a moment before responding. “Given what circumstances? Send him in.” Devlin nodded and left.

“Tommy?” you asked. “Should I go?”

He shook his head no. “Not at all, love. You’re free to stay right here.” Then the door opened again and Devlin introduced the man he was to meet.

“Mr. Shelby, this is Monsieur Paz from Paris.” Tommy stared at ‘Paz’ blankly, as if trying to decide if he recognized the man or not. Then Devlin left and the man spoke.

“I heard you had trouble,” he began, in an accent that was clearly from New York. “It’s good of you to see me.” He looked at you. “Now, I don’t believe I know who this is?” He glanced from you to Tommy. You looked to Tommy, silently pleading for instruction. His face was stone cold and he showed no signs of emotion whatsoever.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you wait just outside,” he quietly suggested. You took the bait and ran.

“Yes, Tommy.” Speeding past the sketchy man, you uttered a ‘pardon’.

“Good afternoon to you, miss,” he drawled, completely unaffected by the tense air in the room.

—

“... Ada Thorne, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and finally… Tommy Shelby.” Luca Changretta placed the final bullet from Tommy’s empty gun onto the table. “None of you will survive,” he threatened as he stood up. “Your level of security is pitiful,” he added, looking out the window at you. “And we are an organization of a different dimension. I could’ve killed you when I walked through that door… You and your girl. But you see… I want you to be last. I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead; ‘cause my mother says that is what’ll hurt you the most.

“Your people have traditions of honor. As do we." He lifted up a blind from the window and looked out at you again. “Instead of sending you a black hand, I could’ve had you killed in the night. You don’t know why… But I want you to know why. And I wanna suggest to you, that we fight this… vendetta, with honor.”

Tommy, looking pissed as all hell, places his emptied gun down on the table. “No civilians,” he began, “No children. And not the girl. She’s not involved in this.”

“No police,” Luca added, as if he were suggesting something thoughtful. “Girl seems to me to be pretty involved, if you understand what I’m saying to you,” he smirked. Tommy ignored the snide remark and continued.

“Welcome to Birmingham, Mr. Changretta.”

“Grazie.”

104 notes · View notes

artemiswinnick · 5 years ago

Text

No. 1 Party Anthem

A/N: First chapter of the Michael Gray fic I’m working on. Not a Brit or a historian so forgive any inaccuracies. Set in 1921, just after Alfie betrays Tommy to the Sabinis for the first time.

It was a Friday night like any other. I’d finished an impromptu dancing gig at the seedy little Camden Club I worked at and, in exchange for coming in on short notice, the rest of the dancing girls and I were to be given free drinks for the rest of the evening. Obviously, Daria wanted to stick around-- and wanted me to stick around with her.

“I don’t know, maybe we should call it a night…” I whispered to her as she dragged me along to the bar with the rest of the giggling dancing girls. I could feel the eyes of every man in that smoke filled lounge on us. I was used to it. Why wouldn’t they stare? We practically sparkled in our dancing costumes amidst the grime and smoke of the club.

“Why?” She asked incredulously. “There’s booze on the house until midnight for us!”

She turned to order a drink, but I grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.

“You’ve heard the whispering Daria-- the Peaky Blinders making a move on Camden Town… it might be dangerous to be out right now. Especially here.”

“Camden is Solomon turf, Celeste,” She cut in with an unimpressed sigh, though I noted that her eyes flickered around to see if any of the men were close enough to hear our conversation. “And the Blinders may be a bunch of savages from Birmingham, but they have an agreement with Alfie-- they would never make a move on Camden.”

“Actually, my cousin Dorothy was whoring for a Solomon chap and she heard him talking,” One of the other dancing girls cut in, reaching over us to grab a drink from the bartender, Billy. “Says it seems like there's trouble brewin’ between ‘em and the Blinders. She saw some of Sabini’s men visiting Alfie.”

Daria shot her a look.

“Right and your cousin Dorothy the whore just knows everything now, doesn’t she?” She asked dryly.

“Didn’t say that. I’m still here ain’t I?” She shrugged, taking her drink and gave me a teasing nudge. “Cheer up, love.”

Daria gestured after her emphatically as she walked away.

“My point exactly— stop listening to gossip, Celeste!”

“We could just go somewhere else!” I returned. “This isn’t the only place to drink in Camden!”

“It’s the only place we can drink for free--!”

The bartender, hovering nearby, interrupted us exasperatedly. “Do the two of you want to give me your orders or--.”

I shook my head rapidly.

“No--.”

“Yes!” Daria spoke over me. “Champagne for the both of us, please.”

“Daria!” I exclaimed as Billy turned away. “What if they come in here and… I don’t know, pillage and plunder or whatever else it is those Brummie bastards do...”

I trailed off, imagining the possibilities. Daria was behaving as though I was being utterly unreasonable, but this was a favorite haunt for the ‘bread-makers’ of Camden Town. If the Blinders were going to hit somewhere, it could very well be here. Daria sighed and took my hand in hers with her mothering expression on. I pursed my lips.

“Celeste, dearest… you need to fuckin’ relax, alright love? I understand why you’re worried, but the likelihood is just so slim that, well, who gives a fuck?” She responded to my scowl with a wide smile. “Oh, come now, I’ve got something that will put the smile back on your face…”

She retrieved a little vial of Tokyo from her garter belt and offered it to me. I huffed unhappily but snatched it from her anyway. She smiled at me. I narrowed my eyes back. She smiled harder and wiggled her eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and burst out laughing.

“I hate you… but fine!” I unstoppered the vial. I never could resist a night of fun— at least not with Daria talking me into it.

A bottle of champagne later, I was laughing at something she’d said, mention of the Peaky Blinders forgotten, when I saw two young men enter the club. It struck me that one of them was black-- we didn’t get a lot of those in here-- but they wore matching grey three piece suits with starched white shirts, heads shaved on the sides. They stopped at the entrance for a moment, like they were taking in the scene. I motioned for Daria to sneak a peek.

“Handsome buggers, aren’t they?” She looked over her shoulder. Despite asking her to be subtle, she twisted her neck like a fucking owl. I smacked her arm lightly when I saw the white man’s eyes slide over to us. He elbowed his friend and gestured to us.

“Fuck— they saw you looking!” I could feel myself turning pink already as they approached.

“Oh, no… the two handsome strangers saw us, whatever will we do…” She said dryly before throwing back the remainder of her champagne. I shook my head and looked for them in the crowd again, but they were nowhere to be found now. I felt safe having a night drinking with the girls so long as we stuck together, but purposely attracting the two unknowns that had just walked into the club hardly seemed wise, as I immediately decided to inform Daria.

“I wouldn’t get so excited. You know all the men that come in here are just low-life gangsters—,” I hissed at her.

“Wha’?” A thickly accented male voice asked from behind me. I whirled around. Leaning on the bar were the two men, sizing us up. The one with sandy brown hair was looming over me, a cat-like grin on his face. Clearly, I’d been overheard. “And I thought this was a gentleman’s club, Isaiah. Guess we’ve come to the wrong place...”

I hated being caught off guard and being loomed over-- so if this was his attempt at flirting with me he was off to a bad start. I refused to back up, even though he was invading my personal space. Instead, I cocked an eyebrow at him, letting my eyes drop to his feet and then travel up his trousers, past the gaudy gold pocket watch and cufflinks, all the way to that absurd haircut.

“And what exactly would the likes of you be doing in a gentleman’s club?” I asked with all the condescension I could muster. I could feel rather than see Daria having a heart attack behind me as we held our silent pissing contest, but then his friend burst out laughing. The man finally broke and the smile he gave me indicated he was amused by my belligerence, not pissed off. Considering that the bouncer they had posted for security was busy talking up one of the house whores and the bartender was too old to be of any real help... this was good news.

“Well, we wouldn’t have found such charming company elsewhere, I’m sure,” He returned, looking me up and down. I rolled my eyes. I knew what he wanted. But I didn’t do that kind of thing anymore. Hadn’t for at least a few months now. Daria didn’t either, but that didn’t stop her from instantly chatting up his friend.

“Oy, tall and handsome… You’ll be ordering a whiskey for me, won’t you?” She batted her eyelashes at Isaiah.

“Well, I definitely am now,” he grinned widely, leaning onto the bar to properly introduce himself. His sandy-haired friend took a seat to my left side. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, I immediately cut him off.

“Listen, love, I’m not open for business.”

“Business? Let me set your mind at ease— business is the furthest thing from my mind right now…” He smirked.

“Well if it’s pleasure you’re looking for, you can go pay for it elsewhere. I’m. Not. Open. For. Business,” I took my drink and shifted to cross my legs pointedly. He scratched at the back of his head, frowning a bit.

“I think you’ve got me wrong-- I only brought money for drinks... “

“So sad for you, then,” I sniffed unsympathetically, raising an eyebrow. “You should always bring extra cash if you’re looking for whores.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say— I didn’t come looking for whores, love. Didn’t come looking for anything, but you were here, so now I’m looking anyway,” The devious grin was back. I raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. He sighed a little, leaning forward with a most sincere expression painted over his angular features. “You’re the most beautiful dame in this place, I don’t think I’m allowed not to buy you a drink. God might strike me down with lightning… so let me, would you? I rather like not being a pile of ash.”

“But if I let you buy me a drink, what if you think that means I’m giving you something in return afterwards?” I asked, oppositional. He was handsome… But that didn’t mean he was going to get anything easily from me. If he could survive the third degree I was giving him, maybe, just maybe… I’d let him actually buy me a drink. Otherwise he could fuck off.

He swept his cap off his head and placed it over his heart.

“I promise you I’m getting you the drink of your choice with no pesky strings attached…” He trailed off seeming to reconsider, “Except maybe one string.”

“Oh and what’s that.” I asked dryly. Of course there would be just one little string attached…

“I want you to keep interrogating me afterwards. I’m rather enjoying this.”

My brows shot up completely and I couldn’t help but break a smile at him in my surprise. He just… wanted to keep talking? No, he wanted me to keep arguing with him? What kind of odd ball...

“Ah, there we are! A smile— so is that a yes to the drink?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to school my expression.

“I suppose…if you insist.”

He waved the bartender over and ordered us a couple of tumblers of whiskey.

“So. Who are you?” I asked him. He shrugged as Billy poured our drinks for us. I mouthed a thank you.

“Just some low-life gangster, who are you?” He asked back. I gave him a twin shrug, sipping my whiskey.

“Just an uppity dancing girl,” I said, making him smile. The expression illuminated his handsome features and I had to admit that he really was attractive, stupid haircut and all. No need to let him know that quite yet, though. “But I meant your name… maybe where you’re from… why you’re here… you know, the usual pertinent information.”

“My name’s Michael, I’m from here and there,” He said vaguely, watching my eyes narrow at him with a sly twist of his mouth. “And I’m here for a drink and a dance, how about you?”

“Coincidentally, my plans included some of that drinking and dancing business, just... not here...” I smirked. He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. I knew many men thought I talked too much-- something I’d had to learn to control-- but this one at least seemed mightily entertained with every quip and I couldn’t stop myself from relaxing a little, sipping my drink. “I work here dancing and a change of scenery would have been nice.”

“Right, well, the scenery might not be the best, but at least you’re halfway to your goal,” He gestured at the drink in my hand. “If you don’t like low-life gangsters, though, I doubt you’ll be finding yourself a dancing partner around here…”

He shrugged slyly.

“You’re still on about that?” I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly. “Since you’ve such a good memory, I think you’ll recall I never said I didn’t like low-life gangsters… It was more of an implication than anything else...”

He shot me a look, finally registering that I’d decided to flirt with him. That cat-like grin was back. He nodded slowly.

“I think we’re missing just one thing before we can make all your hopes come true tonight, then,” He leaned closer to me, licking his lips. “It’s your turn to tell me your name.”

“Celeste,” I stuck out a prim hand, which he took. His hand was so large it engulfed my own, but I gave it a sturdy shake nonetheless. “My name is Celeste.”

He blew out a breath, still holding my hand. “That’s a helluva name for a dancing girl. You from Paris or some shite like that?”

“No, my parents were just snobby poor people,” I laughed, trying to act casual about the continuing physical contact. He had green eyes, I noticed as they smoldered at me.

“In that case, it’s very nice making your acquaintance, Celeste,” He brought my knuckles up to his lips for a chaste kiss. I retreated the hand quickly as soon as he let go, smiling into my drink. He continued, smirking. “And now that we’ve been properly introduced, would you care to dance?”

I looked to the big band, playing a lively tune, and then back at Michael before throwing back the rest of my whiskey. He seemed surprised by how quickly I swallowed it down.

“Sure. You Charleston?” I asked, a little smug.

“As soon as I finish this glass I do,” He held up a finger, tipping the remnants of his whiskey into his mouth with a speed that surpassed even my own. I laughed and he set down his tumbler with a bang before grabbing my hand. “We’re off.”

He pulled me out onto the dance floor, holding both my hands in his as we started the bounce and kick of the Charleston. He wasn’t the best dancer but he was confident and utterly willing to muck about, whirling me around and around. I laughed like a schoolgirl, the legs of other couples flying all around us.

I’d thought I was all danced out earlier, but it seemed I’d caught a second wind, the two of us circling and kicking back, together, forward, together. He released me and I could feel his eyes on me as I shimmied expertly to the band. I’ll admit it— I was showing off. He grabbed my hand when we met again in the middle, pulling me close, moving his other hand to the small of my back as we kept dancing.

“This isn’t how you Charleston!” I yelled over the music, when he held me flush to him instead of falling back into step.

He rolled his eyes and then spun me out, pulling me in again for a dip. When I was upright again, his hands were on my hips.

“Do I look like I give a fuck about the Charleston?” He said, right in my ear. It sent a jolt down my spine and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. We danced to a couple more songs before heading back to the bar for another drink. Daria was very busy sucking face with Isaiah. We both looked at them, then back at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Whiskey!” Michael snapped his fingers at Billy. He stripped off his jacket, exposing the holstered gun at his side. This wasn’t an unusual sight in this club, so I didn’t think twice about it. “Oy, mate, watch this for me would you?”

He shoved the jacket at his friend who broke the vacuum seal he had on my friend’s face.

“Fuck off,” Isaiah replied, grabbing the jacket anyway. He suddenly frowned, pulling out his pocket watch. “It’s getting late, mate.”

That confused me-- it wasn’t even midnight yet.

“Just another dance,” Michael assured him, reaching for his freshly poured whiskey. “I’ll come back round at midnight.”

I also grabbed my drink, satisfied to know I was getting a few more songs in with him. Seeming to take Isaiah’s behavior as an example, Michael snaked an arm around my waist just as Daria called to me.

“You’ve got anymore of the fun stuff, Celeste? This whiskey is making me sleepy,” She giggled, hanging on to the lapels of Isaiah’s jacket. I laughed, extricating myself from Michael’s grasp on me and setting down my glass.

“Fun stuff?” He asked. I propped one delicate foot on the rung of a bar stool so the garter circling my thigh was exposed. I was putting on a bit of a show for him, and his expression at my exposed leg was absolutely worth it. I took the little vial of white powder and shook it in front of him.

“The fun stuff,” I grinned, pouring out a line on the counter top. I pulled out a hair pin and neatened it up before leaning down for a deep inhale. I scrunched my nose at the sensation, feeling it drip down the back of my throat. The rush was almost immediate. Daria quickly followed suit. I felt Michael’s eyes on me. I fluttered my lashes at him “What, you don’t have this back where you’re from? Here and there and everywhere, wasn’t it?”

He raised an eyebrow at me and pulled out a snuff box.

“You tell me,” He offered it to me. I took it carefully and popped the silver lid open--

“Daria, look! There’s so much Tokyo in here I think he’s brought the whole of Japan to Camden Town!” I exclaimed, wide-eyed. That made the boys laugh. Michael and Isaiah cut up lines for themselves. Michael shook himself after inhaling, beating his chest like a wild man.

“I’m ready for another fucking Charleston, how about it love?” He laid a possessive hand on my hip again, just as grabby as he was when we were dancing. I smiled up at him, blood pumping, the high radiating out from my chest to the tips of my toes. I felt awake. Alive.

It was my turn to pull him to the dance floor. Everything was a whirl, like I was on a carousel, but instead of gilded horses all around me, it was gilded people, spinning in the smoke filled air. I lost myself in it-- in Michael-- who repeatedly found ways to draw me closer to him. His hands felt along my waist and hips, sometimes venturing lower but those advances I would cut off, laughing and retreating before twisting back into his grip. He just carried himself with so much certainty, I couldn’t resist toying with him.

As the band kept playing and we had more drinks, whatever limits I’d been placing began gradually wearing down until we were pressing together like all the other couples around us. It had been a while since I’d really let loose and I was enjoying it far more than I’d expected. He, for his part, seemed fixated on the shape of me, hands skimming my hips, our lips nearly brushing almost a dozen times until I was buzzing with want. As I turned round to press against him teasingly, he finally seemed to lose all patience.

He squeezed my hips— from the feel of him pressed against me, somebody was as turned on as I was—and then spun me around. I don’t know what I expected, but I opened my mouth to say something only to find he was kissing me.

He tasted like whiskey and his hands were pressing, squeezing, feeling me up. I can’t say I was unhappy about it, finally feeling his hot hands through the fabric of my dress. I slanted my mouth over his, letting him put his tongue in my mouth. It was sloppy-- we were drunk and high, after all-- and I fucking loved it.

We broke apart, his pupils blown wide. My hands on his chest, I felt his rapid beat of his heart through his shirt.

“Come on,” He tugged me with him as we headed towards the back, in a corner closer to the big band than the bar. In the privacy afforded by a large potted palm tree, he pushed me up against the wall, mouth finding mine again. I moaned against his mouth at the force and suddenness of his advance, knotting my fingers in his hair. I tugged and bit at his lips in return, making him groan. His hands felt along my hips before skimming his hands to my ass. I broke contact with his lips and he moved his mouth to my neck.

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” I said breathlessly, shimmying so his hands would move back up. He obliged me, but then sucked on my neck. My breath caught.

“Can’t say I haven’t been told that before,” He grinned, releasing my neck and pulling back now. My hair was out of it’s pins, long stray curls falling over my face. He tucked it back, looking in my eyes. That, of all the things we’d just done, caught me by surprise. There was an infectious kind of hunger in those green eyes. He broke the eye contact to grab his pocket watch. As he read the time, I watched his expression change and when his eyes found mine again, he was deadly serious. “Listen, love, you have to go now.”

“What?” I asked, frowning. “Why?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked earnestly. I made a face.

“Of course not! I just met you!”

He put his hands on my shoulders and shook me, his expression terrifying now.

“Don’t argue with me right now-- we’re going to go back to the bar, casual like, and you’re going to grab your friend. Leave through the back and don’t turn back no matter what happens, alright?”

I stared at him, wide eyed, heart racing now for a different reason. I looked down at the gun in his holster and at his face, set grimly. I nodded, unable to speak. Satisfied that I was scared out of my wits now and willing to obey instructions, he took my hand and lead me back to the bar.

I extricated my hand from his half way there. He cast me a look, but I kept my eyes forward. I had a feeling about what was happening and I didn’t need anyone to see me holding his hand right before it did. I sped up, leaving him behind.

“Daria!” I called to her, voice a little higher pitched than normal. I cleared my throat and finally closed the distance, grabbing her elbow. She frowned at me as I pulled her from Isaiah. I gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, mate, we’ve got to places to be.”

“The fuck is going on, Celeste?” Daria complained, but I kept a firm grip on her arm.

“I don’t know, but we need to leave,” I told her. Maybe it was my expression or the tone of my voice, but she shut up immediately and stopped fighting me.

I met eyes with Michael as he walked past us to the bar-- his green eyes were piercing before they slid to Isaiah with a casual smile.

“Ready, mate?” I heard him ask as we rushed away.

“Always am,” The other man replied.

Now, I know he told me not to look back. But I didn’t know the man from Eve and I wasn’t what one called “obedient.” So, I paused at the stage door, Daria rushing to go grab our purses from the dressing room and leave through the back exit. I lingered just long enough to see the men in grey caps rush the club, overturning tables, breaking bottles, whooping and firing their guns into the ceiling. I jolted at the noise.

The crowd scattered like rats in their wake, only Solomon’s men standing their ground and exchanging blows. They had to, Alfie would have them killed if he found out they ran. At the head of it all there was Michael, swinging a bottle of whiskey at the head of the hitherto-distracted bouncer. The man unconscious and bloodied on the floor, he climbed onto the bar.

“This club is now under new ownership,” he roared over the din, smiling like the devil had overtaken him before adding. “By order of the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”

I retreated from the doorway, running now. Well. I was never going to let Daria live this down.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fic #michael gray #michael gray x oc

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