Peaky Blinders Imagines.

•Michael Gray•

You've been Tommy's secretary for the best part of two years now, but you've known the Shelby clan for as long as you can remember, you're as much a part of their family as your own, so when you left school it was no surprise that they offered you an over-paid job in their business. You love the boys as if they are your brothers, them feeling exactly the same, and besides that, Tommy likes to have you close by- your sharp mind and quick whit able to keep him sane at the times when he feels as though he's slipping into pure insanity.

With such close relations, it was a surprise to you when Polly's son, Michael, made an appearance, having never really heard of her life before you knew her. You thought he'd become just another one of the boys you see as a brother. Except, that's not the case, you can't quite put your finger on what it is, but whenever you're around him there seems to be an intangible tension that settles, the both of you avoiding each other like the plague; especially since despite your best efforts- he seems to dislike you immensely. Not that he's said it, that's just the vibe you seem to feel radiating off of him whenever you have to be around each other.

•

It's a late Friday evening, and you're still at the office, trying to finish off some important paperwork for Tommy. You've got the gramophone playing what would be considered far too loud if you weren't the only person in the building, a cigarette between your soft pink lips and a glass of red wine in your left hand as you read through the details of a sheet for the betting side of the business.

You put the sheet down so that you can flick the ash off of the cigarette into the ornate tray that Tommy had bought you for your birthday earlier on in the year. It's been a long week, and despite your best efforts you lose your focus on the task at hand, letting the music drifting in the air lull your hectic mind. You don't know how long you're sat like that for, allowing yourself to just have the time to stop and think for a change. It's not until a rather annoyed Michael bursts through the door that you're brought back to reality. You turn to look at him, masking the shock of not being alone after all with a look of indifference towards the attractive boy.

"Can you turn that damned music down, or even better turn it off, I can't hear myself bloody think!" he grumbles, his eyebrows furrowing with annoyance- which despite you not wanting to admit it, is actually rather adorable. You raise an eyebrow, taking a long drag from your cigarette, purposefully blowing the smoke in his direction- making him cough slightly. "Would it hurt you to say please?" You question sassily, making him groan- his temper clearly beginning to rise. "Please can you turn the music down" He relents, and despite his annoyed facade he cannot help finding you immensely attractive, having come up with this annoyance as an excuse to talk to you, after all, the saying goes 'treat 'em mean keep 'em keen', doesn't it?

You lean forward on the desk, resting your chin against your hand you smirk at him, "no". Michael steps forward, towering over you as he places his hands on the desk menacingly, "what did you just say?" He growls, which only has the effect of making you more attracted to him rather than scared of him... Maybe the tension between you both is simply misguided attraction? Possibly. You stand up from your chair, mimicking Michael's actions so that you're face to face with him- barely inches apart; "I said no" you purr, Michael's eyes drift towards your plump lips. Oh what he'd do to kiss them. His self restraint snaps with ease.

In less than a second he's moved to your side of the desk, so close to you now that you can feel his warm breath on your face, "I don't like being told no" he whispers in your ear, making you shudder slightly, "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" You reply, biting your lip in anticipation. Watching you bite your lip and the flutter of your lashes is all it takes to tip Michael over the edge, before you can even blink your back is up against the office wall, pinned by your hips by Michael's strong hands. Your hands instinctively move to his chest, even the fabric of his shirt cannot hide the toned muscle underneath your fingertips. Michael begins to lean in, making your breath catch in your throat; he stops just before his lips touch yours, "this" is all he utters before his lips are against yours, melding together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your lips move in sync, Michael's grips on your waist tightening as your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt. You're glad he has a hold on you, the kiss alone making your legs turn to jelly, and as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip you do not have the strength to deny him, allowing him to dominate your mouth.

Disappointingly you both have to pull away for air, breathing heavily you can't help but laugh, "you didn't really come in here to complain about the music did you?" You breathe out, making Michael chuckle, "nope" he replies before reconnecting his lips with yours.

Let's just say that paperwork didn't get finished...