
Caroline-Maria, 24, french writer & book cover artist. Requests: closed. My novels - My masterlist - buy me a ko-fi please 💜 - my rules - My AO3: BetrayedWriter
196 posts
The Spn Imagine? Fucking Art, U Fricking Fantastic Writer Im Shook ShAKING CRYING UGHHH IT WAS AMAZING
the spn imagine? fucking art, u fricking fantastic writer im shook shAKING CRYING UGHHH IT WAS AMAZING
Thanks you soooooo much!! I’m glad you liked it! :D ♡
More Posts from Causeimhappinesss
Obsessed with your Alfie/John period imagine, so cute. I saw someone requested Michael and Finn, but I was wondering if you could add Tommy to that line up. I can just see him being a total sweetheart 😍 Thanks love!
Aww, you're cute! So yep, I'm going to write it. ;)
The clementine, part 2 (Michael Gray x reader)

Read Part 1 before this.
Warnings: sad, Michael being a little shit
Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for eight fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)
PART 1
***
"Promise me that you will come back to me. Don’t forget that we must get married..."
"One day, I promise you.” he whispered in your ear before stealing you a tender kiss.
If only. If only his words were true. If only he wasn’t a liar…
Going to Birmingham was enough for him to totally forget you, as if you had never existed, to the point of ignoring all the letters you sent to him. At the tenth, over a whole year, still spacing the send time a little, you ended up giving up.
"Maybe the address isn’t the right one..." you tried to reassure yourself the best you could, but deep inside you knew very well that he could have found you, he knew your address. So, when you went back to his adoptive mother house, to hear about him, you learned very quickly that he had even broke off all ties with the woman who had fed, educated and loved him for years. No wonder... If he didn’t talk to her anymore, why would he talk to you? When the anger seized you, passing in front of the well wish he hated so much, your rage spilled. The famous well he hated... Chance or not, a worker had just stopped not far from the well and when he left his business unattended, you hastened to take the hammer he owned and you have hammered the well. It was not enough to destroy it, but it was to damage it a little at a certain place. When one of the bricks gave way completely, you picked it up before leaving, having an idea in mind.
What you were about to discover was going to destroy you.
When you went to Birmingham, you discovered with amazement that people only had a few words in their mouths: the Peaky Blinders. Even in the restaurant in which you were, you could hear a group of men and women talking about it vaguely. Your legendary curiosity pushed you to join the group before asking a few questions to a young woman of your age.
"But who are these guys? The Peaky Blinders?"
Credulously? You were. To be honest, you had never been interested in gangsters.
"The gang who run this city! The Shelby family. A lot of men and some women. I know you must not get in their way, unless you have to flee the city or worse, end up with a bullet between your eyes..." she finally whispered.
Shelby... Shelby... That name rang a bell to you. You had already heard it somewhere, but you couldn’t put a face on that name.
“Are they old? Young? Have they been doing this for a long time...?” You asked after swallowing a mouthful of your apple crumble.
"Tommy, the leader is in his thirties, John is a little younger and Arthur is a bit older. There is Ada, the only sister and there is a teenager. After that, there's their aunt, I think... Um... Polly! Polly Gray. And finally, Michael Gray. The rest, I will say, they are dogsbodies."
You failed to choke at her announcement. Michael Gray... Your Michael Gray? Yes, it could only be him, otherwise the name Shelby wouldn’t have mean anything to you. The man who came a few years ago was a Shelby, a family member.
"Where can I find them?"
You almost were treated of nut, madwoman, just by having the idea of wanting to meet them, but you insisted without explaining your reasons. Finally, the young woman ended up yield to giving you a very vague address: "Small Heath is their headquarters."
It wasn’t until late afternoon that you called a taxi driver to go to this small and poor neighborhood. And even if you didn’t feel in your place, having lived in a family and a respectable neighborhood, you walked with your head up without attracting prying eyes on you. It didn’t take long for an old man to tell you where the Garrison was, where you had a good chance of finding the Shelby’s. The closer you got to your goal, the more nervous you became. Your hands were moist and trembling, your heart was beating fast as your stomach twisted.
In the evening, when you passed the doors of the pub, you looked at each man. You didn’t see him. However, a couple or what appeared to be one, caught your attention by their behavior. The woman was straddling the man, kissing, while his hands were strolling on her body.
"How can they do this in public?” you thought. When you were about to turn your head, your heart missed a beat before he broke. The young woman had just back up from the man. A man who was none other than Michael Gray. The man who refused to answer your letters without any reason. The man you hadn’t seen for more than four years. The man you loved and with whom you had to get married. The man who had just broken your heart for the first time. Tears were rising, but you drove them away. You had to talk to him, try to understand... You waited for the brunette to leave before you sat at his table, facing him as he took out a small blue bottle from his pocket.
"Michael..."
When he heard his name, he raised his nose and faced you. The words were stuck in your throat. For almost a minute neither of you spoke, at least until you decided to break the silence.
"Why didn’t you answer my letters...?” you asked in a low voice, delicately.
He bit his lower lip before opening the bottle, putting the white powder on the table next to some bills. You weren’t stupid, you knew recognized the drug, cocaine, even if you had never seen it yourself.
"How is it possible? He never would have done that four or five years ago...?"
He didn’t answer and just rolled the thin bundle of notes.
"I'm talking to you! Answer me, Goodness!"
He raised his eyes, his emerald eyes gazing at you for a few seconds before focusing again on the snow.
"Cause, I didn’t have a special reason to do it. What would you have served me? To nothing. You would have caused me problems and then... You're not fun. In fact, you are rather the opposite: boring. Do you really think I want to settle down when I can have all the girls I want? When I can go out, drink and use drugs without having to justify myself? I guess you already have the answer, if you think a bit.” he replied coldly, his features severe before he sniffed the cock rail he had just prepared.
If your heart wasn’t already broken, it had just been shattered and reduced to ashes. Nevertheless, you found great strength inside of you to prevent yourself from bursting into tears like a child, even if it was hard. Having your heart trampled on by your first love is far from easy.
You looked at him in the eyes, a few seconds, to see if he didn’t play a joke, but he was very serious. Another hit to take... At that moment, you understood that the Michael you had known and liked no longer existed. The sharp contrast between the children’s purity and the adult dark world hit you hard.
"Now, can you leave before Genevieve comes back? She promised me a thousand and one wonders tonight, whereas she’s not an easy girl and you risk to ruin everything."
Your chest rose frantically under the effect of rage that you were trying to control. In addition to ridiculing you and your feelings, he behaved like the king of assholes. You couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Even before you both could realize it, your hand slammed against his cheek.
"I hate you, Michael Gray! Go to hell!” you spat angrily, throwing at him the brick of the wish well.
You left the bar, not giving him time to react. What was the point? To insult and humiliate you more? In any case, nothing would bring you back the man you loved. It was the last time you saw Michael Gray, your childhood and youth love.
hi, just wanted to leave a little appreciation here!! to let you know what an amazing writer you are!! i hope you keep writing bc honestly i love your writing a lot even though some of the characters you write for i have no idea who they are i still read them ans try to leave a not whenever i can bc i rlly enjoy how you write and i think you should have all the appreciation bc you deserve it, and so much more, i rlly hope you have a great day and nice life and a nice tumblr experience, with love
Hey! Thank you so much for your message, that pleases me and it reassures me because I never thought my writings could interest and/or being appreciated by non Francophone people. :)
Don’t worry, I will keep writing in English as long as I can, especially this summer. :) ( and even after summer, it’s just going to be slower)
You’re so kind and you warmed my heart, little anon! So, if you’re not too shy, I will be happy to talk to you in private. ♡
i would love to talk to you in private bc you sound like such an amazing and interesting person to get to known but uh big problem with my parents not wanting to let me talk to anybody from the internet and shit like that idk the term privacy with my phone (thats also why i havent started an imagine blog myself, bc my parents) too so even sending asks sometimes is too risky for me but i still do it bc i love sending asks to amazing writers like you! im happy sending anons!!💛
Oh! I’m sorry! :(
I hope you parents will trust you a bit more in the near future (which depend on your age, I think) :)










Well if this isn’t just the cutest
~Peter