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theonewiththefanfics · 2 years ago

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The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni @captivatedbycillianmurphy @screemqueen @mrsmalfoyshelby @theamuz @lyarr24

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

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call-sign-shark · 1 month ago

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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.” Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips.

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.” Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face…

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband. “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

“I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.”

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

The three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and pungent scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses saturated with one unique sound: a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x oc #Paul Anderson #Heaven Shelby #Peaky blinders oc #John Shelby #Polly Gray #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta x Reader #Arthur SHelby imagine

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Text

Sentimental | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by @midnightswithdearkatytspb

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Summary: It's (Y/N) Shelby's wedding day, and her father has to make sure she has one last thing before he walks her down the aisle. She's never seen him be so sentimental about something before.

Warnings: just a bunch of pre-wedding fluff, mention of a death of a minor character

Word Count: 2227

A/N: it’s been a bit since I’ve written a daughter!reader story….I hope this one makes sense, and I’m sorry if I got a little too sappy on it haha. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Right, love...you're all finished," Polly said to her grand niece as she finished doing up the final button on the younger woman's wedding dress.

"Thanks, aunt Pol," (Y/N) smiled, taking one last look at herself in the mirror before she turned to face the older woman. "Can you believe the day is finally here?" she asked, a giddy smile present on her face.

Though she was an aunt by blood, Polly Gray was more so like a mother in the eyes of (Y/N) Shelby. The woman who held the title of mother in (Y/N)'s life passed away shortly after childbirth due to the complications and conditions she found herself in. The Shelby's took little (Y/N) in, raising her in their tight knit family. Polly stepped up the most to help, feeling thankful for this opportunity after her son and daughter had been taken away months earlier.

Tommy, (Y/N)'s father, was thankful for his aunt taking it upon herself to fill the void that his daughter had, a void that he knew she would feel for the rest of her life. He wouldn't have been able to come out and ask for the help, and so he was grateful that Polly knew he needed it. Hell, he was young himself - only being a few days shy of twenty when his daughter entered the world. But now this child needed him, and he was going to do everything that he could to give her the world.

Even though her father married, and then re-married, (Y/N) stayed close with Polly, thankful that she had her as a constant in her otherwise rapidly changing life. She couldn't imagine any other person helping her get ready for her wedding.

"I can," Polly answered, looking at the young woman before she pulled her into her body for a hug. "You've grown into such a beautiful, young woman, and I already know you'll make the best bride," she whispered into (Y/N)'s ear, her words making (Y/N) hug onto her even tighter.

"You're already the most beautiful bride," another voice that came from the dressing room's door made the two women seperate.

"Aunt Ada!" (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes lighting up once they fell on the woman in the doorway, "come in quickly, before James sees me!" she waved her aunt in, worried that her soon-to-be husband would be lurking in the hallways.

"Don't worry about that," Ada brushed her off, entering the room and closing the door as she spoke, "I'm pretty sure the cheering that I heard from his dressing room means that he won't be leaving it any time soon...until it's time to walk down the aisle, that is," she added, a grin forming on her face. (Y/N) shook her head, rolling her eyes at her aunt's words. "I have something for you," Ada announced then, lifting up the small box she was holding, "two things, actually,"

"What are they?" (Y/N) asked, eagerness present in her voice as she watched Ada open up the box she'd brought.

"The first is the veil that I promised you..." Ada started off, working on taking the piece of fabric out of the box while she was talking, "I know you mentioned you wanted the floral accents on it as well, so I tried hard to add as many as I could while I was making it," she explained as she handed it over to (Y/N), letting the younger woman unfold it so that she could take all of it in.

"It's absolutely beautiful, aunt Ada! Thank you so much!" she gasped once she was able to look at it in its entirety. (Y/N) knew that she needed to have her aunt make her veil for her from the moment she found out about her crafty side. Seeing it now, she was sure that she'd never put her eyes on a veil as beautiful as this one.

"Shall we put it on?" Polly suggested, making (Y/N) turn to look at her. All that the younger woman was able to respond with was a giddy nod, but it was enough for the older two women to begin working on making sure that it was properly pinned to her head. "It’ll be draped over your face once you're ready to walk down the aisle," Polly added once they'd finished making sure that it was sitting correctly.

"It's beautiful," (Y/N) swooned, turning around to look at herself in the mirror again, admiring the full wedding look.

"I have something else too," Ada spoke again, drawing attention to her as she went about opening the bag that she had with her.

"Ada you didn't have to..." (Y/N) trailed off, overwhelmed by the amount of love she was being shown.

"I brought you the 'something new', so I decided that I'd also bring you the 'something old' too," she started off, producing a pair of older-looking, nude colored heels from her bag, "do you remember these?" she asked the younger woman then, an excited look forming on her face as she waited intently for a response.

(Y/N) just about gasped when she saw the shoes. "No...those can't be..." she trailed off, at a loss for words at the moment.

"They are," Ada confirmed, her grin growing, "the exact shoes that you literally begged me to wear when you were younger."

"I can't believe you still have them!" (Y/N) was still in disbelief.

"I nearly spent a day rooting for them in my closet," Ada remarked with a laugh as the women moved over to the couches so that (Y/N) could try them on. "I knew I had to find them though," she added, waiting anxiously to see her niece try them on.

"Do you think they'll fit?" (Y/N) questioned, slightly hesitant to slip her feet into them.

"Guess there's only one way to find out," Ada answered, nodding at the shoes then.

She was right. (Y/N) looked between the two women before she slipped her feet into the shoes, holding her breath while she did it. She only let it out when she found that they fit practically perfectly on her feet.

"How are they?" Polly questioned.

"Perfect," (Y/N) responded, a wide smile present on her face as she looked at the other women again. "I can't believe you're letting me use these, aunt Ada," she then turned to the brown haired woman sitting next to her.

"I couldn't think of anyone better to have them," Ada smiled back, wrapping her arms around (Y/N) in a tight hug. "Don't mess up the make up!" she exclaimed once they pulled away, quickly reaching for some tissue so that she could dry (Y/N)'s eyes.

"This seems to be the perfect time to give you this as well..." Polly began, coming over to where (Y/N) was standing with something in her hands.

"Oh no not you now too, Pol!" (Y/N) blubbered, completely overwhelmed with emotion at the moment.

Polly didn't listen to her and instead opened her hand to reveal a bracelet that had blue gemstones encased between the gold band.

"Something blue?" (Y/N) questioned, looking from the bracelet back to her great aunt, her eyes already watering again. Polly only nodded, a smile present on her face as she came closer to (Y/N). The younger woman knew what to do, holding out her wrist so that her aunt could clasp the bracelet onto it. "It's absolutely beautiful, Polly," she whispered, too overcome by emotion to fully trust her voice at the moment. "Thank you, both, so, so much," she added, looking at both Polly and Ada, who each sent smiles back.

"Now you're ready to be married," Ada commented, glancing over at the clock then, "and it's just about time for the ceremony to start."

"It is time," another voice broke into the conversation, making the three women look over at the doorway.

"How long have you been here, Thomas?" Polly questioned, eyeing her nephew as she wondered when he managed to slip into the room without them noticing.

"Long enough," he gave one of his usual, ambiguous answers, but this time there was no hint of the impatience that he usually spoke it with. No, today Tommy Shelby was standing in the doorway smiling.

"Are you ready, (Y/N)?" Polly turned to (Y/N) to check.

"I am," (Y/N) gave an assured nod, a smile present on her face as she looked back at her father.

"Pol, you and I should head out and make sure our seats are still open," Ada stated, placing her hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze before she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door.

"It's going to be wonderful," Polly whispered to (Y/N), pulling her in for one last hug before she went and joined her niece at the door. She whispered something to Tommy, something that (Y/N) couldn't hear, before she and Ada exited the dressing room.

"Ready?" Tommy asked (Y/N) once they were alone.

"Ready as I'll ever be," (Y/N) answered, letting out a breath then as the excited jitters started to build up in her stomach. A smile returned to her features as she walked over to her father. "Let's go," she said, nodding her head as she spoke.

"I have one last thing to give to you," Tommy stated, making her stop in her tracks.

"What's that, dad?" she asked, her brows furrowing together.

"I've been wearing this since the day that she left..." he started off, undoing the top button of his dress shirt so that he'd have an easier time taking off the gold necklace he was wearing. When he did get it off, (Y/N) saw that there was a locket on it as well. "This was my mum's. The flower on the front represents strength. The pictures on the inside are worn out, but the flower's still present, so I wear it for strength," he shared some details behind the necklace he wore everyday, holding it out for her to see it better. "I want you to wear it today," he finished his statement with a suggestion, one that (Y/N) was quickly nodding in agreement too. She'd never seen him be so sentimental about something before, and so she was honored to be able to borrow and wear it for the day.

Tommy smiled at her answer before he moved over and clasped the necklace around her neck. "It's pretty, dad," she commented as she got an even better look at the intricately designed locket.

"Your grandmum had good taste," he answered her, his words making her look up to see that he was trying hard to keep the tears back.

"If you start crying, I'll start crying," she told him, her words making him chuckle.

"I won't," he promised her.

A smile formed on (Y/N)'s face and she glanced down at the locket one last time before closing the gap and hugging her father tightly. "Thank you, dad," she whispered, trying her best to hold her tears back as he held onto her equally as tight.

"It's time," one of the ushers entered the room to announce.

"Ready?" Tommy asked his daughter as they pulled away from each other.

"So ready," she answered with a wide smile. "You ready?" she turned the question back onto him.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he answered with a smile of his own, one that (Y/N) wished she could take a picture of and keep forever. She'd never seen her father smile so much.

"Let's go then," (Y/N) nodded, walking to the door with her father by her side.

They were led to where the doors that opened to the main room of the church were. As they got closer, (Y/N) could hear the music that was being played as everyone prepared for her entrance. The butterflies started fluttering like crazy as she and Tommy stopped at the closed doors. In just moments, she'd be brought down the aisle to the man who would be her husband.

Tommy couldn't help but look at his daughter as they waited for the signal to go. He still couldn't believe that today was her wedding day, and that in just a few moments he'd be walking her down the aisle. James was a good man (he'd made sure of that) a man who had promised to take care of (Y/N) until his last day. As much as he didn't want to let her go, he knew he had to. She'd grown up right in front of him and become a young woman, who he was so immensely proud of.

"Ready, dad?" his daughter's question pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he used the same answer that he'd given her in the dressing room, his response making her giggle.

"Don't let me fall," she whispered to him then, taking his outstretched arm, wrapping hers around it.

"Never," he promised her, sending her a wink and a small smile before the doors opened and they took their first step down the aisle.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

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colsons-baker · 2 months ago

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The Gift

Series1 Tommy Shelby x Reader

Across the road and two doors down, that’s as far as Tommy had to go. But he had taken a detour to The Garrison, needing a bit of Dutch courage before he knocked on her door in Watery Lane. In his hands he held a box, wrapped in colourful paper and topped with a bow, a present for the day that was in it. He breathed in just as Y/N opened the door, giving her a quick smile. “Pol told me the party would be over by now. Thought it best I waited till after.” He explained. “Come in.” Y/N smiled, stepping back to give him room. “She’ll be happy to see ye.”

Tommy took the cap from his head as he stepped inside. “I got her sometin.” He said, turning back and holding the box out to her as she followed him to the living room. “Ye can give it to her yerself.” She said, nodding at the doorway. Tommy nodded and walked into the softly lit room, the smell of a freshly baked cake wafting in from the connected kitchen. On the floor sat a little girl, playing with some dolls - a present from her aunty Polly.

“Ada.” Tommy sighed, nodding at his sister. He should have known she would still be here, she couldn’t stay away from his daughter.

“Don’t worry, I’m goin.” Ada stood up. “Bye bye darlin.” She waved to the child who waved back, and Tommy couldn’t help but feel his heart skip at the image as his sister passed him.

He stood there watching her as Y/N saw Ada out, unsure of what to do or say. He had been trying his hardest lately, but she always cried when he was around. She couldn’t blame him, what sort of father was he? He had missed everything in her life so far because of the war, and he couldn’t be present much now because of it too.

It hadn’t been a mistake, he would never say that. But he never meant to get Y/N pregnant. He had been on leave and she had been working late in the bookies. Y/N had been one of the women that kept the whole Shelby enterprise running. He had opened a bottle of whiskey and he needed company, and then they went to bed.

Nine months later, he was in the tunnels as his daughter was born. He missed her first breath, her first cry…her first everything. And when he got back he couldn’t be much more useful. The things he was going through inside his head, well he couldn’t burden his beautiful little girl with that.

As for Y/N, she was everything he wanted and all that he couldn’t have, the war made sure of that. He could never be much of a husband, not with the nightmares and everything else that rattled around in him. But oh how he wished he could have done the right thing and marry her, rather than have her be stained because of him.

“She doesn’t bite ye know?” Y/N’s voice pierced his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. “Give her the present.” She encouraged.

Tommy nodded and cleared his throat before he stepped closer, stopping the child mid-play as she turned her attention towards him.

“I heard it was someone’s birthday today.” Tommy said with a little smile. “And what’s a birthday without a present, eh?”

As he crouched down, he placed the box down in front of his daughter. The little girl’s eyes sparkled as she saw the brightly coloured box with the ribbon, knowing exactly what it meant. She crawled closer to the box, and to the man who sometimes came to visit her. Smiling up at him, she pushed it closer to him to open.

Tommy’s smile fell, was she pushing the present away? He went to stand up, but felt a hand on his shoulder. “She want’s ye to open it for her. She’s only two.” Y/N chuckled.

Tommy looked up at Y/N and nodded before turning his attention back to their daughter. “Shall we open it then, eh?” He asked, beginning to untie the bow. “See what’s inside.”

The little girl leaned forward to help rip the paper off, laughing at the fun of it all and making Tommy laugh too.

“Look at this, eh?” He said, as he pulled a teddy bear from the newly opened box. “A new friend to join yer dolls!” He motioned towards the other presents as the child clapped and then reached out for the teddy bear, which Tommy handed over. She hugged the bear close as she kept her eyes on Tommy. After a moment, she held out an arm for him.

“Hug her.” Y/N told him.

“What?” He looked over at the woman who was sat on the couch watching.

“Oh for gods sake Tommy, she wants ye to hug her!” Y/N laughed. “She wants to say thank you.”

Tommy looked back at the little girl, his eyebrows raised slightly at the idea. “A hug, eh?” He nodded. “I can do hugs.”

He held his arms out and his daughter moved into them. His daughter, who he held tightly as he stood, her arms wrapping around his neck and her cheek placed against his.

Tommy closed his eyes and breathed in. Maybe he could do this.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 2 months ago

Note

can i please please please please have a reader/(y/n) running into the main papyri for the first time?

like walk in down the street and the skeleton boi walks into us, reader stumbles and stares up at them mouth agape for a solid five seconds before lighting up and say “so.. so cool!”

i just need the boys to know just how cool they are 😔💀

i hope you have an extra awesome day 😎

Undertale Papyrus - He immediately tries to catch you as you fall forward. You stay a solid two minutes just... staring into the other eyes. Uh. Papyrus blushes for some reason, and then you say he's cool, and now he's even more a mess. How did that even happen? He says you're cool too, and then leaves, the face entirely red. A little part of him hopes to see you again and he even feels bad once back home. He didn't even ask your name. Sans is confused why he's so agitated.

Underswap Papyrus - Uh... What did you just say? Honey was about to apologize for bumping into you and now he's completely speechless, mind entirely blank. He just stares at you and randomly says "I'm a skeleton" before blushing to hell when he realizes he just said something stupid. He blips in thin air, so embarrassed. Blue jumps as he just hears Honey muffles scream in his pillow out of nowhere. Honey is troubled.

Underfell Papyrus - He gives you a dark stare as you bump into him, this close to screaming at you to watch where you're going. But then you say he's cool and he's completely disconcerted. ... What? He takes him a good minute to grow back his angry face. W-Well yes! Of course, he's cool! Because monsters are cool, unlike random humans bumping into strangers! And then he leaves, swaggering, very proud of his line. He's so disturbed as he keeps thinking about this though.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's panicking, scared he might have hurt you, and apologizing again and again. Then you just said he's cool. Willow tells you that's alright, he understands if you want to call the pol... Wait, what. He blinks in complete confusion at you, staring at him with stars in the eyes??? Uh... Ok... He pats you on the head awkwardly and wishes you a good day. You catch him turning several times to stare at you as he leaves. That was weird. But nice. But very weird.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus stares at you in confusion as you say he's cool. Uh. He's so disturbed he gives you his box of nuggets. And then he leaves, staring at you the whole time, as he faceplants right into a pole. You ask if he's alright, he shakes it off and finger guns at you, before teleporting away. Back home, he's cringing so hard. Finger guns, really? What the hell did he do that for? ... And he just realized he lost his nuggets too. Well, that was something.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He heard you say he's cool, but uh, he still looks behind him to see if you said that to someone else. Uh. No one. ... Wait, you're talking to him for real? His eyes widened with pure terror. He's not ready to talk to humans yet! No one told him humans could talk to him! As you ask if he's ok, he just starts to hyperventilate, and looks around for something to hug. Well, too bad you're the only thing available. He cling to you all of the sudden, making you flinch in surprise. He then blushes when he realizes what he's doing, apologizes in panic and disappears. He needs to hide in his closet to recover for a bit.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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novashelby · 5 months ago

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Why Not Me? - Isaiah One Shot

Pairing: IsaiahxReader(based on Evie...but friendly to all)

Warnings: No Sex, but intimacy. Mostly fluff.

Though it is not a smut, I am adding this to the 100 prompt challenge.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: She just broke up with her boyfriend and Isaiah is there to tell her what's up.

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

“She’s crying again,” Finn said, rolling his eyes as he exited her room, the sandwich still in his hand. Again was the keyword. Some girls just suck at dating, and unfortunately for her, she was one of them. University didn’t make it any easier despite what her Aunty Ada said. Boys in university are intellectuals. Though, Ada herself didn’t know if she truly believed it. Finn sighed and bit one half of the sandwich before handing the other half to Isaiah, who’d been sitting on the sofa the whole time. “I’ll be back. I just got an errand for Aunt Pol downtown.” Finn swung his jacket on and nodded to his slightly older friend before leaving.

Isaiah put down his tea and turned his back, frowning a bit as he eyed the first door one reaches when climbing up the stairs. Her room. Poor girl spent quite a few days in that room crying. Though partially her fault. Isaiah slid from the couch and made his way up the stairs. Nervously, he hesitated knocking-his fist just hovering over the wood. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes and knocked. When she didn’t answer, he knocked a bit harder, eyes glancing at the stairs. Through the door, there was a muffled, “Finn, I don’t want the sandwich…just eat it.”

Isaiah scratched his nose and stuttered out, “um-hey, uh…it’s not Finn. It’s me…Isaiah.” Never had he considered himself a nervous man. Women were never a challenge and he was always smooth with his words. But her? Tommy Shelby’s little girl was something else. You had to handle her delicately. There was a slight gap in conversation before she mumbled a wait a minute. For what? Tommy forbade her keeping a lock on her door…she was a sneaky child, a sneaky teenager, and now? A sneaky adult. “Can I just come-oh!” As soon as his hand touched the brass door handle, it turned and opened. His eyes couldn’t help but go to the toes and scale up to her head, skimming over her body. Isaiah felt heat rise to his cheeks. To avoid embarrassment, he looked off to the side. She’d been wearing her white silk bathrobe. Underneath? He doubted it’d be smart to start letting his mind wonder. A pretty girl. Perhaps not conventionally…like the girls he usually chased after. You know? The model type with toned legs and symmetrical physiques.

But she was pretty. The unique type with features that weren’t carbon copies on every other female. Isaiah appreciated that about her. The way she never tried to force herself into any box. As his brain tried to connect the wires, he thought about how her thighs touched even when she walked or how her belly rolled when she sat.

And she never fucking cared. She wore what she wanted, ate what she wanted, talked to who she wanted. Her confidence was unmistakable. That’s why her crying behind her wooden door after some stupid breakup was pathetic. He couldn’t understand it. One boy after the other, and she’d wither away for a few days. Over boys that probably were too weak to lift her against a wall.

“Is there something you need?” she asked, breaking his train of thought.

“W-what?” he blinked. Her brows raised, a grin for the first time that day played on her lips. “Oh, oh! Sorry…um, are you okay? Finn said you were upset about someone-thing…something. Not much, of course. Not that it’s my business or any-”

“I’m fine,” she said, holding her bathrobe together with one hand as she placed her other one on his shoulder. “Thank you, Isaiah. Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, words dragging as she was sliding by him. “I’d like to take a bath.” His eyes followed her as she started to walk down the hall.

“Wait!” He called out her name, and she paused, but didn’t turn. “You don’t deserve that…any of it. And y’know, you don’t talk to me anymore…about anything. Once you went off to university, you just-”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, still not turning to him. Tears were laying heavy on her lids again. At one point when they were kids, the four of them would go off and cause mischief. But Finn was learning the family business, Martha was getting married, Isaiah was working under Tommy, and her? She wanted to study nursing. They were no longer kids. Instead, people with lives. It was a good day if she and Finn even had a conversation. What did she have to say sorry for?

“Explain something to me,” he said, walking towards her. And it was his time to rest his hand on her shoulder. He spoke her name again and slid around her. It was her time to avert her eyes attempting to hide the wetness dripping down her cheeks. But Isaiah didn’t mind any of it. He knew she was crying. Gently, he cupped her face, but when she flinched, he dropped his hands. “What’s changed? Me and you?”

“Something had to have been for it to change,” she said, insinuating nothing had ever happened between her and him. He chuckled for a moment, itching the tip of his nose. “What?”

“It’s funny,” he said.

“I know, you laughed. I’m asking what is funny-”

“You,” he accused. “You’re funny, Miss. Shelby…you used to talk to me. We’d joke and dance. When Finn would fall asleep, it was you and I who’d finish off the whiskey and discuss life’s biggest questions.”

“Times change-”

“You still live at home,” he said. “You still live at home. You go to the local university three days a week. You still frequent the same jazz clubs. You still go to the same parties! For fucks sake, you’re the same person…nothing changes that much in a few months.”

“Isaiah-”

“No.” He shook his head. His hands gently gripped her arms, thumbs caressing her. She felt her body gently be pushed against the wall, head lightly pressing against a wobbly picture frame. She knew which one…the painting of her father’s mother. “You’ll fuck around with Tiny Tim from art class who can’t even bother to got to the door and introduce himself to your father-”

“I don’t need my father’s approval,” she snorted. “I’m grown-”

“You’re eighteen,” he said. “Hardly grown. Plus, you’re a lady under your father’s care. It’s the sensible thing to do-”

“And you introduce yourself to every womens’ father? Especially the ones you fuck on a Friday night and leave the next morning?”

Isaiah went quiet for a moment before saying, “no. I don’t. But that’s different. And don’t ask how because I’m not explaining casual sex to you.”

That’s when she eased herself a bit, laughing lightly. That was the girl he knew. “And you, Mr. Jesus, enjoy casual sex? Why don’t you want to explain it to me, eh?”

He matched her smile, resting his forehead on hers. “Because, Miss. Shelby, casual sex isn’t for ladies. Besides, I think your father would kill me.” She looked down, playing with her hands as she wore a little grin. Isaiah cupped her face, thumbs caressing her lips before moving down to hold her hands. “You are much more than a casual encounter, Miss. Shelby,” he said in a whisper, bringing her hands up to his lips, and kissing them.

“But how do you know I don’t like casual encounters?” she teased, but he wasn’t having it.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s not like that…you and I, and I refuse to let it be that.”

“And are you my father?” she asked. “Everyone in this family thinks I’m-”

“Don’t,” he stopped her. “You’re deflecting. You knew exactly what I was saying-”

“That you’ll respect me in the morning?”

“Shhhh.” He kissed her cheek, lingering there for a moment before asking, “why not me? Huh? Why Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve and Dumb Danny and Asshole Adam and Prick Peter, but not me? Not idiot Isaiah-”

“I never dated boys with any of those names except a Peter-”

“You’re deflecting again,” he said. “Why not me?” Gently, he grabbed her chin and said, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you unlike Tiny Tim….”

“Who is Tiny Tim?” she laughed, not exactly denying him. In fact, she snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, feeling a sort of comfort in his chest.

“That small fuck you were running around with last week,” he said, lowering his lips against hers. He brushed them against hers, a little smirk spread across his lips. She teased that he was being silly, but soon yelped as she felt him move his hands under her butt and lift her up. To hold herself steady, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Though he was pretty good about keeping her in place from the way he pressed her against the wall. “So, you didn’t answer me, why not? Why not me, Miss. Shelby? Huh?”

“You never asked,” she grinned, just about pecking his lips. She pecked, but pulled away when he tried to lean in, teasing him. “So, I had to fuck around with Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve-”

“And Dumb Danny,” he added, moving in to kiss her, but she teased him again, biting his bottom lip. When he tried to rest his lips upon hers, she moved away again and kissed his jaw up to his ear, biting his lobe.

“Don’t forget that prick Peter.”

“I want to forget,” he said, bracing her with his body weight and one hand while his other gripped her jaw, bringing her in. “C’mere,” he whispered, pressing his lips against hers. It was soft at first; just a string of pecks that became longer. His hand moved from her jaw and started to caress down her body. Without wanting to intrude, he slowly rested his hand upon her breast; not squeezing, just lightly running his hand along the curve before slipping it under the silk. As he moved it over her soft breast and down, the lacing came undone and the robe slipped down her shoulders. He stopped the string of light pecks and kisses, and asked, “we can stop if you’d like.” Shook her head, enjoying the feeling in her; warmth and excitement. She wasn’t an easy girl…her father made sure of that making sure she knew her worth. That’s probably why so many ‘boys’ left her…she never gave in so easy.

She did him. Or was it really easy when it was something in the making from their youth?

She licked at his bottom lip before nibbling and pulling it. “Shhh,” she said as she took control, sucking and slipping her tongue between his lips, playing with him. Their pecks turned into fully blissful kissing that neither wanted to stop. Air was no longer important, they found as their lips followed each other’s movements. Her fingers tickled up the back of his neck to his hair before tangling in the curls. While his hand moved down her body, dancing over hips and walking over her thighs. Her skin was so soft, sweet, and innocent. He wanted nothing more, but to place a kiss over every inch of her body. For the first time, he felt like fucking was juvenile. It wasn’t about the sex. No. He wanted her close. It was all about the closeness. He wanted her so close to him that he could consume her. That he could just breathe her in and nothing else in the world would matter.

He pulled away, catching his breath, “sorry. Um, I don’t want to rush this.”

“What are we rushing?” she teased, trying to kiss him again, pressing herself against his aching crotch.

“I want to take you to dinner,” he said, letting her down. “I want to do it right. If I’m going to do this right with anyone, it’d be you. So, please, Miss. Shelby, can I take you to dinner?”

“I dunno,” she sang, reaching up and playing with his buttons. “Are you paying?”

He laughed out and shook his head, pinching her chin. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, alright,” she agreed, sliding from him and walking to her room. “But, you have to ask my father.” Isaiah grinned and eyed the phone on the small table downstairs.

“Already on it, Miss. Shelby,” he called out. “What do you think I am? A lousy gangster?”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders oc #ao3 #fanfic #wattpad #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #isaiah jesus #Isaiah Jesus x oc #Isaiah Jesus x reader #Isaiah Jesus fanfiction #original character

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glamtheglove · 1 year ago

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for anyone that doesn't know Willy and Tubbo had a boxing match before among us and Tubbo won and Willy has to cook him food for a week. Their beef is gone only peace and love.

Missa was using his pathetic wet cat energy in the qsmp among us and it worked for a majority of that round until etolies I think called him out.

Also poor ironmouse she just wanted to play and she got murdered most of the games.

Tubbo getting mad at Quackity, when Quackity was still blaming him for being the imposter and killing him infront of cellbit and tubbo still living after the meeting was called.

I like the fact that Pol used being the oldest there's an excuse for him not being the imposter and that he is like at level 50 in among us.

Jaiden,Cellbit, and Tubbo being in the same lobby is hilarious.

Also the guapo duo being the impostors together is something, I didn't know I needed until now

#q!missa #q!etoiles #qsmp #qsmp among us #q!Ironmouse #q!tubbo #q!polispol #q!quackity #q!willyrex #q!jaiden #q!cellbit #qsmp guapoduo #q!roier

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emptystove · 4 months ago

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Sparrow - Ch 7

One Piece Fanfic (Drama/Romance/Suspense)

Pairings: E. Kid x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Lucci x Reader (one sided)

Rating: EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY

Chapter Summary: You are kind of a mess trying to understand these familiar feelings. It's a good thing you have some new friends around to help you out~

CW: trauma, spicy situations

Links to AO3, Wattpad -- Fanfic Master List

Chapter 7: Sensory Memory

Cipher Pol Headquarters, NWC Central District

3 Years and 4 months ago

Lucci crossed one leg over the other as he scanned the room.

Spandine had called the heads of each Cipher Pol unit to appear in person for a briefing. These types of gatherings were only held when he wanted all units to be aware of the information and when the information was highly sensitive, so much so that they didn't want to risk it being intercepted.

"Suspect is female. From the state we found the bodies in, she is believed to be skilled in the use of firearms and edged weapons," the suit droned on as Lucci scanned the document detailing the next rising threat under discussion. The whole thing felt so beneath him. He was ready to delegate it to one of the other CP units when the next piece of information gave him pause.

"There was a witness to the last incident. The bartender couldn't give us much, but he remembered someone fitting the suspect's description asking about some of the gangs who 'allegedly' participate in human trafficking. He apparently hid in a supply closet during the event. He did not see anything of use, but he claims to have heard her use the name Aisa."

Lucci quickly understood why this was a priority case. The person targeting these gangs started with street level thugs but was moving on to higher members of organized crime. They were following a trail of criminals that would inevitably lead to an elite yet elusive group of government officials and politicians who indulged in many illegal activities, one of which being the keeping of slaves.

"I've seen a woman fitting this description, and I distinctly remember her mentioning that name."

The older man in a white lab coat standing beside Spandine looked up excited at Lucci's statement.

"I was hoping one of you might," his supervisor smirked. "Anyone else know of a potential lead on the suspect?"

The other agents stayed silent.

He nodded to the older man before addressing the room again. "In that case, the rest of you are dismissed."

Lucci remained seated as the remaining CP unit leaders left the room. Before the door closed, two more employees with the same white coats entered, rolling a cart filled with what looked like medical and mechanical equipment.

"Was it recent? Do you remember it well?" the older man had moved to take the seat next to him.

Lucci sent a questioning look to his superior and the man responded with stern indifference. "Lucci, this is Dr. Vegapunk. You are to answer his questions honestly and adhere to any procedures or testing he requests of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Lucci replied coldly before turning to address the doctor. "It was fairly recent, within the last few months. I remember it well."

"Excellent! Excellent!" The doctor excitedly ushered over what were clearly his own subordinates and pulled several items from the cart.

He pulled out a black box, the size a bit bulkier and wider than that of a laptop, and flipped it open. Inside, he used a small keyboard to start inputting something Lucci didn't catch. The other two extended four wires from the small machine. They attached each wire to Lucci's head at various points using what they claimed were electrode pads.

"Now, this won't hurt a bit, but you may feel foggy for a few minutes after. We'll be monitoring your vitals, so there's really nothing to worry about. It's definitely probably perfectly safe," Dr. Vegapunk instructed happily.

"I'm not worried. Just get whatever this is over with so I can continue my scheduled duties," Lucci's scowl was audible with every word.

"Right... Well, let's get into it then." He pressed a large button on the machine. A red light began blinking on the side, and a faint whirring sound could be heard. "We'll start with something simple. I want you to think about everything that happened from the beginning of the briefing to now."

Lucci didn't let his opinion of the annoyingly upbeat doctor deter him. No matter how pointless this exercise seemed, he would always follow orders.

As he began thinking back to the beginning of the briefing, he felt his eyelids getting heavy.

The red light stopped blinking and remained on.

Lucci's Private Residence, NWC East District

Lucci woke up gasping for breath.

He slowly sat up in bed, allowing the sheet to fall to his waist as he let out a long exhale. That was one he didn't dream of very often.

His thoughts were muddled as he lazily stood. He was in nothing but a pair of silk boxers, but he didn't bother to even grab a shirt as he made his way out of his room. His next actions had become a standard morning routine, though it wasn't his intention.

First, he checked his messages. There were no leads on your whereabouts from Cipher Pol, and there was nothing from Trafalgar.

How disappointing.

He then checked each room in the house. Your bedroom, the basement, the dining room, the kitchen, and lastly the den. He sighed softly as he confirmed what he already knew. He was awake. This was all real. And you were not there.

Finally, he made his way to his home office, pressing a button under his desk to reveal a hidden safe in the wall. He input the code and opened the metal door. He brushed aside the other items and pulled out a black metal box labeled "EMR."

----------

Kid's Body Shop, NWC South District

You were restless.

It was a week after your visit with Law, and the adrenaline and excitement that came with your escape and prospects moving forward were starting to dull.

Kid was kind enough to give you his room, but you were trapped there each day until the shop closed, unwilling to risk any clients or passersby recognizing you. At least he let you sleep in the bed. He insisted on taking the couch even though you pointed out he was starting to rub his stiff neck on a fairly consistent basis because of it. More than anything though, you appreciated that he seemed not to notice the times that you woke up in the middle of the night startled and wheezing.

Still, you were grateful. His was twice the size of Killer's room with an en suite to match. You fell into a sort of routine, though you didn't intend to. Each morning, Killer would bring you something different for breakfast along with that day's newspaper. You would then get in a lengthy workout before showering and changing into the least baggy set of clothing they had offered you. The rest of the time you spent waiting for closing proved more difficult for you. You would have loved to keep yourself from overthinking everything, and you did your best to keep busy. Heat gifted you a notebook, which was something, and Wire promised to drop off some books by the end of the week. By now, you were struggling to find things to keep your mind busy. Hell, you even deep cleaned the bathroom. You were questioning whether Kid would be annoyed if you reorganized his closet when you felt something slip out of your pocket.

You reached for the item and held it carefully between your fingers.

A heaviness filled your chest as your looked down at the picture Sabo gave you. You wanted to see him. You wanted to talk to him, ask him questions, learn things from him. You whined grumpily when the rational side of your brain reminded you that until you meet with Law's friend, it would be too risky. He was one of the more recognizable members of the RA, and anyone noticing a connection between them and Kid's group could put unnecessary attention on them.

You sighed dramatically and sat by the window in Kid's room, looking out at all of the carefree people walking through the streets. As long as Lucci was looking for you, you would never really be free. You wanted your memories back, but you also wanted your freedom. Freedom to live your life and freedom from the man who took it from you.

You wanted to ignore his obsession at the time or write it off as being overprotective after your amnesia, but you couldn't deny it. You knew how he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention or how his eyes would roam your body after he had a few drinks. Even looking back at it now, you wanted to believe his tight hold on you was only because he was deceiving you. But the things he said to you before he kissed you the night you ran and the way he begged you rather than killing you at the train station just confirmed what you didn't want to be true.

Even if CP9 stopped looking for you, Lucci wouldn't. And anyone who helped you stay away from him wasn't safe from his wrath. If you were honest with yourself, you weren't sure if you held onto that thought because it was true or because it was a justification for the one thing you wanted almost as much as getting your memories back.

You wanted to kill him.

As you continued to gaze out the window, certain things started to take your attention.

A digital billboard in the distance switched to an advertisement for athleticwear, and you found that you couldn't take your eyes off of it. The color was just so damn blue. Your head started to get a bit fuzzy, and you weren't sure what you were feeling. Shortly after, it faded into a different advertisement and your gaze fell back to the street below. You could faintly hear high pitched laughter as your eyes landed on the source.

You saw a little girl with short brown hair. Instantly, your heart twisted as you were overtaken with fear and grief.

She was facing the other direction, but you could tell she wasn't laughing anymore. She had just been surrounded by a group of similar aged kids, but now she was alone. You felt your heart start beating faster and you parted your lips.

Was she crying?

You couldn't pull your eyes away. She was looking around franticly for someone. You felt the urge to call out to her, but you also felt like you couldn't breathe.

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn't notice someone behind you calling out to you until you heard the one word that cut through your trance.

"Sparrow."

----------

When you finally turned to face him, the look on your face made him pause.

Kid assumed you were so enthralled with your view out the window because you caught a glimpse of what was about to arrive for you. When you finally took notice of him, you weren't excited or even uplifted in the least. No, you looked confused and scared. The way you looked down at yourself, your eyes traveling over your one hand on the glass of the window and the other on your heart, made it look like you didn't realize what you had been doing. Fuck, was that a tear rolling down your cheek?

He stormed toward you in an instant, yanking you away from the window and looking out at the street below. Nothing within view caught his eye. No criminals or police were anywhere in sight, no one suspicious, no one even loitering nearby. No out of place vehicles parked on the street, and by the look of the few pedestrians casually walking about, nothing of significance had happened.

He swiftly shut the blinds with a yank of the cord before pulling out his phone. No missed calls, and flipping through his messages again confirmed everything was on schedule.

"What happened? What were you looking at?" Kid asked as he turned back to you.

"Uh...," you faltered a reply.

At least you seemed to know he was there this time.

He was frustrated with your slow response, but he forced himself to wait for you to gather your words. You had moved away from the window, arbitrarily standing in the middle of the room. Your brows remained furrowed as your eyes flit between your hands and some random spot on the carpet. You shook your head briefly and swiped the wetness from your face. "It was just some little girl. I- I don't really know what I was looking at... just felt familiar I guess," your words trailed off at the end, and Kid felt his frown deepen.

He shot Killer a quick text to check the perimeter just in case.

When he glanced back at you again, you were still looking away from him. You look smaller in a way, afraid and unsure of yourself. You probably needed someone to talk you through whatever emotional shit was knocking around in your fucked up brain. He ought to just text Killer to come up and set you straight while Kid did the sweep himself, but he pocketed his phone instead.

Kid would normally be the last person to try to deal with this type of thing, but seeing you like that was pissing him off.

He still had a bit before he showed up, and Kid didn't feel like waiting until after you were done to see you stare him down again. It couldn't be that hard to bring you back to your senses, right?

He walked up to you with appraising eyes. As he moved closer, you kept your gaze low, irritating him further. He opened his mouth to speak but found he had no idea what to say. He gaped at you in silence, his own sudden awkwardness in the situation angering him further until he did the only he knew to do and shoved your shoulder with what might have been more force than necessary.

You stumbled a few steps back upon the impact, catching yourself before you fell into anything. Your eyes shot up to the redhead, widening in surprise before shifting to a more annoyed expression.

"What the hell was that for?" You snapped.

"Quick acting weird."

"I'm not," you denied.

Kid blew a raspberry into the air at your obviously false claim. "Cryin' over seeing a random kid outside is normal for you?"

"Fuck you. I wasn't crying. My eyes were watering from being stuck in your musty room all day."

"You cleaned this room about every damn day since you got here, so if it's musty, it's your fault." Kid bit his cheek as he tried to suppress a smug grin. You were staring him down hard, no longer meek or afraid.

That was easier than he thought it would be.

"Hey, I can clean up dust and grime, but there isn't much I can do about the mountain of hair products you spray into the air every morning," you replied coolly.

"Oi! That's not- Quit blaming me for your own shit, woman." Kid growled, suppressing a chuckle when he noticed you pursing your lips to hide your cheeky fucking grin. A cheeky fucking grin that seemed to spread after he stayed quiet too long without hitting you with a comeback.

Exhaling loudly, Kid changed the subject, satisfied that he got what he wanted but not quite ready to leave you yet, "Anyway, you been asking about a way to help us out for letting you crash. Well, we got something coming up, and we're short a few guys."

It was almost the truth. It was less about needing more guys and more about keeping a close eye on you. He doubted you'd be half as excited once you found out how little you would really be involved.

"I can do that," you perked up significantly at the suggestion. "Yeah, you need guys. I can be your guy, -er whatever." You nodded and cracked your knuckles. Kid watched the little remaining unease melt off your features at the thought of anything potentially dangerous or exciting, the exact opposite of how any sane person should react.

Damn, you were kinda cute when you were getting yourself all fired up.

"Got something else I think you'll like even more than that. Not sure you deserve it after being an ungrateful brat," Kid teased.

"You literally tried to shove me on the ground," you dismissed quickly. "What is it?"

"Your friend's coming by to see ya."

"Heat or Wire? It isn't even movie night," you mused happily.

"Heat and Wire are my friends," he corrected.

"Yeah, ok," you chuckled sarcastically. "Who is it then?"

"If you ain't figured it out yet, you're more brain damaged than I thought. You've got him for two hours. Don't make me regret it."

----------

You could have cried when Sabo handed you a suitcase filled with clothes and shoes in your own size. As thoughtful as that was, having this time alone with Sabo was a much better gift. You agreed to limit your contact with the RA until the heat died down a little. The only reason he was here now was because he already had a scheduled exchange with Kid. You didn't bother asking what they were buying from him or why. Frankly, you couldn't care less.

Your plans were stalled on getting back your memories until Law's friend was ready to meet. Although you would have preferred remembering your past on your own, you were happy to hear his own memories of your past.

"So you walked into the conference room wearing an exact replica of Inazuma's outfit - the custom coat, the sunglasses, everything. He just rolled his eyes and tried to keep everyone focused. When Koala walked in a few minutes later to drop off some documents to Dragon, wearing another exact copy of his outfit and acting like nothing was strange about it, he still somehow kept it together. But not one person in the room could keep a straight face when Hack and Karasu walked in, completely straight faced, wearing the same exact getup," Sabo laughed.

"Sounds like they all have an excellent sense of humor," you giggled with him.

"Yeah, some of us more than others. Those two are definitely the opposite of pranksters. You never did tell me how you got them to agree to it," he sighed as the last of his chuckling died out.

"Eh, it probably had more to do with them than me. Any attempts at fun at Cipher Pol were swiftly stamped out," you replied casually.

"What was it like, working as an agent for them?" He asked almost hesitantly.

You tilted your head, frowning slightly at a spot on the wall. "I don't know. It's weird to think about how I felt then when I know the truth now. Back then, I thought it was the life I chose, but even then I knew it sucked." You gave a half-hearted chuckle, "Most of the other agents wouldn't even give me the time of day outside of missions or training. I never understood why, though I guess at the time, I figured it was because of Lucci. Seems pretty obvious now that it was because I was really just a brainwashed enemy to them."

You ignored the guilty yet concerned look Sabo was giving you as you tried to turn the conversation a bit in another direction.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot." You walked to the bed and opened the top drawer to the bedside table. You made your way back to Sabo and perched yourself on the armrest of the opposite end of the couch as you handed him a small notebook. "I thought this was the least I could do for you rescuing me or whatever."

Sabo's brows raised slightly as he thumbed through the pages upon pages of information. You tried to write down what you knew, but once you began, you realized that they withheld a lot from you. Still, there were some roughly hand-drawn maps of the levels within headquarters, notes on the types of missions you were privy to, and finally what you knew about the individual members of CP9.

"Why would they ignore you because of Lucci?" He was trying his best to seem casual, but you could tell he was listening intently for your answer.

"I guess you could say he kept me on a pretty short leash," you began. Sabo watched you patiently, silently urging you to continue. There wasn't really a point in hiding the truth, but it still made you uncomfortable to talk about for some reason. "He was my sensei, in charge of my rehabilitation after I woke up. He kept me on a strict schedule, slept in the room next to mine, trained me everyday. At first, I would only see him once a day. By the end, leaving me alone in my room for a few hours was considered a gift. He would flip if I got banged up after training with another agent." You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He was always watching me. I woke up everyday with him standing in my room, and the way he looked at me when he would drink... The day you saw me on that train was the first time I had ever been outside headquarters without him with me. And that night, he tried to.. Well, he was drinking then too, and..."

You were starting to get frustrated with yourself now. Why was it so difficult to say this out loud? It's not like you were the one who did anything wrong. It's not like you had anything to be embarrassed about. You didn't want to think about Lucci or about why something as seemingly small as an unwanted kiss was so upsetting to you. What you wanted to do was beat his face in until he had to eat through a straw. The thought gave you enough courage to steel your nerves and force out the words.

"He trapped me against a wall, whispered bird facts to me, told me I belonged to him, and kissed me," the words left you all in the same breath. "That's when I ran," you added in a much softer voice.

When your eyes moved back to Sabo, his mouth was drawn out in a thin line. His head hung down slightly, allowing his bangs to cover his eyes. It was tough to read his expression, but you could tell that his jaw clenched as much as his fists by his sides.

It probably should have made you happy, right? To have someone care enough about you to be upset by how you were treated, but you found it hard to keep your eyes on him. Mixed in with his anger was a clearly painful layer of guilt that you found difficult to bare witness to.

You turned where you sat on the armrest of the couch so your back was to Sabo, then let yourself fall onto your back, bouncing lightly on the cushions. Your eyes wandered over the ceiling, letting him have whatever moment he needed to while your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

After a few minutes, you finally broke the silence.

"What were... we... to each other?" You asked carefully as you peeked at him from behind a few strands of your hair.

You didn't even notice just how tensed he was until his shoulders visibly loosened. He lifted his head and let out a deep breath. A small smile graced his face, and you had to push down the fluttering in your stomach when you noticed how handsome he was when he let himself relax. "It was... complicated," he began slowly. His gaze moved aimlessly around the floor until he finally glanced down to gage your reaction.

Ok, you were kind of hoping for more there.

You wanted to push him, but you could tell he was just trying to find the right words, so despite your instincts, you kept your mouth shut and waited for him to continue.

"We were...," he swallowed hard. "The way I feel about you...," he trailed off again, furrowing his brows in quiet frustration. He finally shook his head and met you head on with a hard gaze. "Living the kind of life we did, we agreed it would be a bad idea to try to carry on with anything serious."

"Oh," was all you could manage to reply. So, there was something but you both stopped it before it could go too far. That made sense.

"What made you ask that?" A warm hand lightly brushed a few stray hairs from your face as you resist the urge to lean into his touch.

"Uh," you feigned a nonchalant tone as you reply. "I guess I just get these familiar feelings when I look at you."

Sabo let out of breath and even without speaking you could hear his smile. His fingers moved through your hair again, then fell to trace lightly against your cheek, his touch prompting a nervous fluttering in your stomach.

You tilted your head slightly to look up and him, and when your eyes connected, something shifted.

All of the sudden, you were starting to feel fuzzy.

Your muscles relaxed, and you felt your hand glide against his as he caressed your face.

Yes, that felt right. That felt familiar.

You held his gaze as you started to sit up, all the while inching closer to where he was seated. You couldn't look away from him if you wanted to. Those blue orbs connected with yours and you could feel yourself being pulled further into him. Closer to him. A tiny voice in the back of your mind was telling you not to let go.

"Is this..." you asked, not fully understanding your own question but also desperate to hear the answer.

"Ok? yeah," Sabo offered a breathy reply.

That wasn't quite right. You had no idea what you expected to hear, but you knew he was supposed to say something different.

This is your chance. The tiny voice grew a bit louder.

And then your body was moving on it's own. You shifted toward him, never leaving his eyes as you slowly climbed into his lap. You heard a muffled sound. He was telling you something but you couldn't quite hear him. It almost sounded like he was underwater. He was right in front of you, but he felt so far away. Everything did.

His hands found your hips as you reached out to him. His eyes were shining that brilliant blue and it was all you could see.

You felt your hands move to cup his cheeks, and you heard that tiny voice again telling you that this was your chance, only this time with unsettling urgency. But it was difficult to read into what that might mean when the man between your thighs was so beautiful.

You hummed as you noted the smooth, soft skin in your left hand while tracing the rougher, darkened skin around his scar under your right.

"Is this real... or is this just a..." you heard yourself whisper.

"This is real," a low voice replied, and Sabo smiled softly before giving your hips a reassuring squeeze.

You smiled.

Yes, that felt right. That's what he was supposed to say.

You leaned forward slowly, only willing to close your eyes as your lips pressed softly into his. This is real, that little voice in your head emphasized, although you still weren't sure why that was so important to you right now.

It should have surprised you, when you finally pulled back and opened your eyes. Somewhere deep down, you knew this. But your brain was so cloudy now. Your fingers grazed the sides of his face, smooth olive skin under each one of your fingertips.

This is what you needed.

Your hands fell gently onto his shoulders as you took in the sight of him, the blue you so blindly gravitated towards fading into a greyish black.

This is what he wanted.

You leaned back in more quickly this time, capturing his lips with renewed fervor and working hard not to smile against him as you heard him let out a small whine.

This is real.

You kissed him mercilessly, ignoring the scruff of his facial hair that tickled your chin as you tugged at his wavy black hair. His hands started to roam over you as he pulled you flush against his chest. You let your hips shift against him as you felt him growing harder beneath you.

You refused to let your mind wander to all of the vile, unforgivable things he did to you. That didn't matter right now. The only thing that mattered now was moving forward, getting out of the cycle you were trapped in.

You moaned into his lips as you continued grinding. You were ashamed of how wet you were getting from pushing your clit against this monster's clothed cock. You began to undo his belt buckle, but he moved a hand to stop you.

You pouted and heard him chuckle softly into your ear.

That wasn't what was supposed to happen.

He leaned his head onto your neck while he tried to collect himself, and you shifted so his face was on your left side. You could hear someone speaking again, but everything still sounded so foggy. You ignored the far away voice, and took a few light nips under his ear. You allowed his hands tightening around you to still the movement of your hips, instead focusing on weaving your left hand through his hair and reaching out as far as you could to the side with your right.

Just a few seconds more and you were sure you could reach it...

The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, looking up at a baffled and disheveled Sabo. He was standing over you panting, belt half-way undone, with a look of confusion and worry on his face that only increased as you brought a hand up to candle your pounding head.

…What the FUCK just happened!?

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by a swift knock and opening of the bedroom door.

----------

No one that knew him would characterize Killer as someone who was easily surprised. Yet somehow, you had been leaving him in such a state on a fairly regular basis since you arrived.

The blond stopped dead in his tracks upon entering. His eyes darted from you to Sabo and back before shutting the door tightly behind him.

"It's not what it looks like," Sabo began.

Killer crossed his arms over his chest and gave you a long, penetrating look. He watched your expression morph from surprised and confused, to pained and confused, then finally to embarrassed and annoyed.

"I'm fine. Thanks for dropping that stuff off, Sabo," you finally reassured both men as you hopped up from the floor, a newfound confident and aloof mask covering your features. "He's right. It isn't what it looked like. Just a little misunderstanding. Anyway, I'm gonna go take a shower for totally unrelated reasons."

Sabo called your name pleadingly as you moved toward the bathroom. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm perfectly fine," you assured him again, subtly glancing toward Killer before facing Sabo again. "Can we talk about this later?"

Killer didn't like that.

They promised to keep you hidden and keep you safe. Ever since Kid filled him in on what you found out from Law, he had been watching you closely. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until this very moment. You were not fine, and it was painfully obvious. What bothered him more though is that you were trying to hide it from him.

Once you finally left the room, Killer cleared his throat to get Sabo's attention.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Killer asked.

"I think it's pretty obvious," Sabo sighed in frustration.

"It really isn't."

"We were... reconnecting I guess, but she was pushing too far. I asked her to stop, and then she..." Sabo swallowed looking down at the floor where she had been when Killer walked in, hesitating slightly before finishing his thought. "She kind of threw herself onto the floor."

It made sense. Well, the part about reconnecting did anyway. Anyone with eyes could tell by the way Sabo looked at you that there had been something between you two. You throwing yourself off of the couch seemingly without reason was less believable, though it was exactly how he had found you.

Killer knew he was holding something back, but the way the gears seemed to be turning in Sabo's head made him fairly certain that it wasn't out of ill intent. It seemed like Sabo himself wasn't sure what to make of it all.

"You know, you're lucky it was me coming to get you and not Kid. He probably would have killed you before you could explain what happened."

Sabo furrowed his brows. "I didn't hurt her. I would never hurt her."

"I know," Killer said honestly, moving a bit closer. "That's why I didn't kill you."

Sabo gave Killer a hard look, then tilted his head in amused intrigue.

"I'm the one who asked you to take her in, you've only known her a week, and already you would actually kill me if you thought I hurt her?" he mused.

Killer shrugged, "Yep."

Sabo hummed shortly. "The other two that know about her, Heat and Wire, would they do the same?"

"In a heartbeat."

Sabo seemed to think on Killer's words for a few moments before a genuine smile stretched across his cheeks. "I'm glad."

Killer wasn't sure why that would be surprising. You were under their protection, and they took that seriously. If anyone hurt you while you were with them, retaliation was inevitable. They would do that for anyone in your position. That should have been obvious. Sure, they hadn't actually harbored anyone outside of people they were already close with in the past. And sure, they also rearranged a few appointments to make sure all four of them could be at the next movie night with you. Maybe he even went out of his way to buy puff pastry to cook with after you mentioned it. But nothing about that was unusual, right?

"I should get going," Sabo sighed. It was the agreed upon time he planned to leave, and waiting would only increase his chances of being spotted there.

"Right, better fix that first though," Killer stated while motioned to the other man's open belt.

Sabo cursed under his breath as he quickly fumbled to make himself presentable.

"Is that what you were doing on the train?" Killer deadpanned.

"I didn't do anything on the train!" Sabo whisper-shouted, mumbling curses again as Killer led him out of the room. "And stop asking my subordinates about it. I don't even know how you got Koala's number, but quit texting her."

Killer's lips pulled up into a slight smile. He would figure it out eventually.

----------

Author's Note:

Killer: *sharpens his blades grumpily in the corner.* Author: Killer, you can't be serious. You had your own POV section in this one! Killer: If I'm so important, why haven't you added me to the relationship tags yet? Author: *sinks lower behind computer screen* Sabo: He's not the only one upset, author. Author: Wha- You got your own spicy scene with her though! Sabo: *pulls out a metal pipe.* My own scene? Author: Uhh, well… Sabo: We waited months for this chapter, and you let that overgrown house cat take over half way through? Kid: *adjusts his metal arm menacingly* I'm burning that couch to ash. Author: Ok, wait wait wait. You guys just need to trust me. It's all part of the plan! Lucci: I think it's the best thing you've ever written. Killer/Sabo/Kid: Shut up!

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