#pol lit

[bigmommycommie]

polscy romantycy próbując nie pierdolnąć swoich postaci piorunem

[doomspiral]

Woe. Woe is me. I need to download a language app of some sort.

[dizzybevvie]

i love seeing u post about american politics. i need to learn about brexit

ah yes the ever topical debate of brexit

[perplexingly]

Idk if I'm sending this to the right person (as in: I can't remember if you're the person who enjoyed old polish literature or if it was someone else I followed) but if I am then what do you think of Kordian as a character? I think he and your art style have a bit of a similar vibe in my mind

I indeed used to draw a lot of Pol lit fanarts : D though there’s more ppl in the pol lit fandom around here

That said, I must confess something!! Back in high school when it was funny to have strong opinions about romantics I was absolutely on Mickiewicz’s side and perhaps didn’t give Słowacki the attention he deserved (you know when you read something ironically, and that sets you up to dislike something even if it’s not bad? 😭 and it didn’t help that Kordian kept being compared to Konrad Wallenrod which I adored)

I’m older and presumably wiser now, a year or so ago I reread Balladyna and liked it a ton, so I think I should give Kordian another try now

[mydear-corinthian]

welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

[screechingchaospotato]

OH HOLY SHIT I

shhshshsh I CNST

I CANT EXPRESS HIS HAOOEY I AM RN

THIS SO GOOD.

YOU.

OH MY GOD

INLOCE THIS SM OMGGGG

some bg3 characters in wof universe bc yes

(forgot to add this to the drawing but karlach's is meant to say animus enchanted into a firescales)

[dandelionprints]

Don't Be Late

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)

Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content

Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x

--------------------------------------------------------

"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"

He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping  Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.

The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him  that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him. 

Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.

"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt. 

Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.

"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"

He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.

"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.

Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N  was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.

The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision. 

"Here, take this".

He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.

Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.

"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.

"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"

Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.

"She's not going to die..."

"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.

The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.

"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"

There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.

Polly stood, then, calm and collected. 

"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"

Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.

"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.

"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"

He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.

"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"

Three days earlier

They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.

"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.

"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.

The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.

"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers. 

Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.

"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"

He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning. 

"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"

This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.

"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"

She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"

"I promise, Y/N"

She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day. 

"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"

Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"

---

It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.

Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm. 

'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself. 

There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim. 

"Get 'em!"

The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.

It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.

It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"

She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.

The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.

"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her. 

Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.

Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.

"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".

Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.

"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"

Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.

"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"

"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.

Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.

"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"

He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.

She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck. 

The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?

She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.

"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.

Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion. 

It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.

"Look at me. I said look at me!"

Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.

"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"

"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.

"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"

She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.

Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling. 

"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men. 

She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.

She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.

—

"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"

His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral. 

“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.

"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.

It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest. 

"John! Arthur!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.

He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.

There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.

John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.

"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.

"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"

It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.

He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.

Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.

Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.

Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.

When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.

—

The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.

"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.

"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."

Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"

He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.

"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"

Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.

"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"

A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.

"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"

"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"

The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him. 

If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came. 

He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time. 

A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room. 

He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.

"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife. 

Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out. 

"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".

The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.

Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.

"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.

"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.

"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"

—

Three days later

As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered. 

He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening. 

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold. 

His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows. 

John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.

Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual. 

"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.

When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.

"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"

Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.

"What do you mean she moved?"

"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"

His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.

"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.

Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed. 

Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".

He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.

"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"

"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.

"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.

"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".

Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain. 

Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers. 

"T-T-Tommy?..."

Did she just speak?

His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.

"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.

"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.

It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"

He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.

"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"

"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…

"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."

"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"

Two Days Later

She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly. 

The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital. 

"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.

"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"

He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.

"Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.

"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.

"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"

Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.

"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"

A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?

He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.

"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"

He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?

"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks. 

Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.

"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.

"Anything"

"Don't ever be l-late again"

He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.

"I promise"

———

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[colsons-baker]

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.

[lovelyiida]

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER • A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo came to the realization that he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 4.7K

"Well, that was dandy"

As the night grew darker, your voice cut through the darkness that enveloped the car. The two of you start to traverse the dimly lit roads, surrounded only by the quiet hum of the engine, the occasional flicker of passing streetlights, and an unspoken tension.

"I mean, your parents were lovely to an extent..." you trailed off, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. Pouting your lip, you shifted your gaze up at the blonde. Katsuki, however, didn't even attempt to break his eyes away from the road ahead. "I understand them, though... I suppose I'm a huge adjustment for your family and everything," you continued.

"Your mom was kinda funny, actually! And do you guys always argue like that?" you let out a chuckle. Looking at the blonde, not even a twitch.

Pressing your lips into a line, you turned your head towards your window, observing the city lights streaking by in a blur. You tried your best to take some pressure off the poor guy's shoulders.

"That old lady—she's been giving me grey hairs before I even knew my times tables," Katsuki exasperates. Letting out a soft, dry chuckle, he smirks. "I know what you're trying to do, but it's not gonna work," he said, catching on to your attempt to lighten the mood.

"What she did today was uncalled for, no matter the circumstance," he continued; his body still as his voice was stern. The occurrence between you and his mother seemed to be still thick in his mind. You watched closely as his large hands held a firm grip on the steering wheel.

You roll your eyes at his response.

"Yeah. But think of the principle of it—"

"Stop…giving her excuses," his voice raised an octave. You slightly grimaced as you felt the sharp jolt of the car accelerating in speed. Blinking rapidly, you began to hold on tight to the strap of your seatbelt.

Watching the deep frown on Katsuki's face, he let out a deep breath before easing on the gas. "Let's not talk about it anymore, at least not for now."

"Agreed."

As the night unfolded, Katsuki soon brought the car to a halt in front of your apartment. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Inhaling deeply, your eyes met with the hero's. "Well, this is me," you said shyly.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you noticed the blonde doing the same, stepping out of the car with a certain urgency. Approaching your side of the vehicle, he swiftly opened the door for you. Gazing at him, you quietly expressed your gratitude and stepped out.

As you both walked towards your door, you began to reflect on the events of the day. Katsuki was a hundred percent right—what his mother did was wrong. You tried to divert your thoughts from the verge of tears during the drive. You successfully held back, unwilling to show vulnerability, especially to him.

Standing in front of your door, facing each other, you spoke, "See you at the office, Mr. Dynamight." You smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Today was fun, this little roleplay thing we did—"

"Roleplay? That's a 7-carat ring on your finger, baby. Nothin' about this is roleplay." Pointing at your hand, the blonde found amusement in your words, tilting his head to the side as a snide smirk played on his lips.

Baby? Gulp.

You froze, uncertain of how to respond.

"What, cat got your tongue?" he teased, flashing another smile. Shaking your head, you let out an exasperated chuckle. "Nonotatall." Turning your back to him, you unlocked your door and stepped inside. Facing him again, you politely bowed.

"Thank you again, Mr. Dynamight, for today—"

"It's Kat-su-ki… I thought I told you to drop that whole Mr. shtick you like to do," he said with a hint of humor. Cursing under your breath, you scratched the top of your head before responding.

"Thank you for today. Have a nice night, Katsuki." Awkwardly bowing once more, you slowly began to close your door.

Man, you're never gonna get used to saying this, are you?

"Sweet dreams, Y/n."

Turning on your heel, you closed the door quietly. With a deep sigh, you shifted your weight against the closed door. Reaching into your purse, you rummaged around before retrieving your phone. Turning it on, you mentally cursed yourself upon seeing the time.

"It's not too late at night to call…"

You reassured yourself before placing the number on speed dial. Shifting your weight from the door, you quietly set down your things. Pressing your cheek against the warm glass of your phone, you patiently waited as the phone dialed.

Collapsing onto the couch, you didn't even bother to take off your outer clothes. As the other line beeped, you began to hear a groggy voice on the other end.

"What the hell do you think you're doing calling me at this hour?"

"Oh, shut up, I'm gonna go through with the plan," you quipped back. You heard the sounds of your sister shifting in her bed before she answered once more.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd do it—no offense," she snorted. Rolling your eyes, you nestled deeper into the crevices of the couch. "Today was just too much," you sighed.

“Explain…”

“I think things are just moving too fast. I mean, I was humiliated by his mother. She thinks I’m some nymphoid looming over her son for his money!” you complained.

“…think of this as more fuel to charge for your revenge. This gives you even more reasons to fuck him over. I promise you, the look he’ll give you at the altar—“

“Please, can we just focus on the plan here,” you groaned. Your sister sighed on the other end of the phone. “What exactly am I gaining from saying no at the altar?” you questioned.

“Notoriety beyond comprehension.”

Playing with the fabric of your dress, you began to ponder.

Notoriety beyond your own comprehension?

“Think of it, all of Dynamights’ life, he’s been known to get everything he wants. He’s got the looks, the talent, the power, the girl…” she emphasized.

Your sister's words turned sour in your mouth. Biting the inside of your cheek, you continued to listen. “Imagine the day he’s finally told the word no? The outlets will go blasting instead of him.” Your sister loudly chuckled within the darkness of the night.

You dryly chuckled at her words. “Hm, I guess you’re right.” A thought soon entered your mind as you completed pondering. Eyes shooting wide, you lifted yourself from the couch.

“Imagine! All the outlets will be crawling to me to get the inside scoop on Dynamight’s life. From his work treatment to his dysfunctional family. I’d be loaded!” You laughed out loud.

“Bingo!” Your sister yelled on the other end, making you flinch away from the glowing screen. “Oh my…I thought you’d never get it,” she said.

“You’re a good-looking girl, and from what I’d also assume—a damn good actress…”

“Drain that man for everything he’s worth.”

PHASE 1 ➜ EXPRESS

Dark coffee, two pumps of creamer, and a pinch of sugar. That’s what you’ve delivered to your hero in waiting over 100 times now. Some days, you’d watch the pro-hero down three to five cups of coffee a day. And you were alarmed.

“Here’s your coffee.”

Placing the warm cup on his desk, he looks up at you and gives you a small nod. No more backtalk, no more irritating quips made at your coffee-making skills. He just drinks it.

Standing in front of the pro-hero, he notices your eyes tend to linger longer than anticipated. “Is there something you need to discuss?” Dynamight deadpans.

“Not exactly…it’s more of a question per sé.” You narrow down your words as your head begins to bow before him, anxiously awaiting his permission to ask.

“And that question may be?” He asks.

“Why do you drink so much coffee?”

The expression he gives you could’ve made you sink into a hole. Breathing out, he stays still for a moment, almost looking as if he’s putting together an actual answer.

Looking back into your eyes, he answers. “It fires me up.”

That’s it?

“Oh…okay.”

Turning your back towards him, you walk back over to the corner of the office, sitting down in your designated seat. You begin to type away. A moment passes before the blonde looks up at you and speaks.

“Any more questions?” He asks.

Your brows softly lift as you tear your eyes away from your computer, setting it down on the nearby coffee table. You tilt your head.

“It’s corny but…what made you want to become a hero?” You ask. This earns an eye roll from the pro. “Because, I’m the best. I knew from a young age that I was nothin’ like anyone has ever seen. Someone had to rise to the top—and it had to be me.”

“Wow, how poetic.”

“Shut your face.”

Standing up, you gather your things before walking over and laying down some documents on his desk. “Interview in an hour, let’s go.” Your voice unwavering as you turn back and grab your coat. This newfound sense of confidence washes over you, and it kind of takes you aback.

Maybe you got too comfortable, yeah that could be it.

Too comfortable with the habits and getting to know your boss and stuff…

Or you’re comfortable knowing the fact that you’re irreplaceable…

Shaking your thoughts from your head, you grab Dynamight's coat and hand it to him. Looking at him, you show him a grin, “my next question is…any coffee to go?”

Grabbing the coat from your hands, you couldn’t help but notice his ring was missing. Of course, you couldn’t be bothered less since yours wasn’t on as well. But for some reason, it made you feel a type of way.

“Yeah.”

A cup of dark coffee, two pumps of creamer, and a pinch of sugar land into his hands merely 10 minutes later as the both of you ride in the car on your way to his interview.

Sitting there, you watch as the pro takes sips from his cup and stares out into the window. You’d always wonder what is in the deeper consciousness of heroes…

Whether it be from top secrets to silly dreams. You’d always wondered what was going on in that peanut-sized brain Dynamight has.

“What’re you thinking about?” You blurt.

“I’m thinkin’ about how tight my suit is,” the hero shifts within his seat in discomfort. You let out a chuckle before you turn to look out the window.

“How come you and Riot never do interviews together?” You mumbled, loud enough for the blonde to hear. An audible grumble is sounded from his lips.

“Because he steals all my shine.”

This makes you snort.

“Are you actually serious?” You chuckled. You watched as the blonde cursed under his lips. “Yeah, he talks too much and goes over the time limit. Which leaves me just lookin’ stupid.”

“Okay, reasonable,” you responded.

“Is this what we’re doing today? The question game?” He says with a smirk. Eyes widening a bit, you purse your lips to the side before commenting.

“Well…I’m down if you’re down.”

Dynamight leans back in his chair with a chuckle and closes his eyes. “Go ahead,” his voice was monotone and calm. It’s kinda rare to hear him so content. Before you could think you were spewing out any questions they flew into your mind.

“How long have you known Red Riot?”

“Since I was 15…god, I’m old. We met during our early days at U.A., and we’ve been through a lot together. The guy's practically seen me grow into the hero I am today.”

“What does it feel like to fight villains?”

“It feels pleasurably taxing.”

“How long did it take until you were able to master your quirk?”

“Still mastering. Explosion quirks are tricky; there's always room for improvement.”

“Why are you always…mean?”

“I’d be an easier target, obviously. The world expects heroes to be virtuous, and gentle, but I've seen where that leads. The one thing everyone looks for in a hero is vulnerability, kindness, something to manipulate and take for themselves. I refuse to give them that satisfaction. Being assertive and not taking any crap is the image I've chose for myself.”

“How big is it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh look, we’re here!” you exclaimed before abruptly opening the door. Stepping out of the car, you watched as the hero climbed out, keeping his fiery eyes on you the whole time—almost looking predatory…gulp.

Handing him some more papers, you began to go over the interview about to take place. “Today’s interview is for Pop! Magazine—“

“Fuck no,” the hero quipped, quickly turning on his heel and heading back to the car. Chasing after the hero with the click of your heels, you tightly grabbed his shockingly firm bicep.

“Please! Looking at your stats, you don’t give a lot of fan service. And this is punishment because you’re always doing interviews last minute. I could only pick out what was available that any other hero didn’t take.”

“It was either this or being interviewed by a whole bunch of kids.”

Dynamite inwardly groaned, his head hung low in defeat. Stepping towards you, he continued to walk towards the stage doors of Pop! Magazine. Letting out a sigh, you snuck your hand away from his bicep and held tight to your things.

“I swear to god, after this interview. I’m asking all the questions,” Dynamight said, loud enough for you to hear. Biting your lip, you stay quiet as you enter the stage building.

A handful of makeup artists and hairstylists swarmed to the pro-hero, leaving you in the dust. Dynamight grew more irritated by the second, giving the staff a single look before they all dispersed. As he walked onto the set, he was greeted by an overly cheery lady.

"Wow! Dynamight, it's great to finally see you in person. This is crazy; hello, I'm your interviewer, Roxie," she burst in excitement. Reaching to firmly shake his hand, he let out a hum in response. As both of them sat in front of the cameras, you quietly walked behind and looked at the sight before you.

Bright colors and pretty patterns adorned the stage. As Dynamight sat in the plush pink seat (expectantly man-spreading), he looked like he was absolutely over it. And the interview hadn't even started.

Locking eyes with the hero, you gave him a thumbs up for good luck (and partly as an apology for the purgatory he's about to be in). As the overhead lights turned on, you watched as the director began to count down and started rolling the cameras.

With a deep exhale, Roxie began to speak her intro and introduce Dynamight to the non-existent crowd. Turning towards the hero with a smile, she soon started to read from the cards held in her hand.

"So, Dynamight, how've you been?" she said cheerfully.

"M'fine, the day's just getting started over here," a tone of melancholy echoed in his voice as he looked at Roxie. "I see, the days are never over when it comes to being a pro-hero like yourself. Speaking of being a great hero, how does it feel to be second-ranked? Behind the hero Deku–“

"Excuse me," you interjected. As all eyes in the room set onto you, you looked around before adding to the conversation. "Please refrain from talking about hero rankings around Dynamight. He's not here to talk about that." You said with a sense of authority, almost proud to take up for the hero.

The interviewer looked at the hero for confirmation, and as the blonde raised his brows in response, she nodded. Looking at the cameras, Roxie's voice suddenly dropped an octave. "Cut that out, please."

Restarting her first statement, she opened the interview with a new question. "So, Dynamight… could you give us any inside scoop on what it's like being one of the highest-ranked heroes in Japan?"

"Eat, sleep, work out, patrol, fight, sleep again." Dynamight deadpanned. This earned a thin pressed line on Roxie's lips. "Sounds like a lot just for one person, eh?"

"Personally, not for me. Not a lot of people can do what I do, and that's fine," he said plainly. You mentally face-palmed at his comment. Now you understand why Kirishima did all the talking back then for interviews.

The interviewer let out an awkward chuckle before flipping to her next cue card. "So, Dynamight, you're a rare sighting for the press, so there are so many questions to ask with only a small amount of time! So let's cut to the nitty-gritty," she said with a devious smile.

"It's popularly known that you're a part of U.A's infamous class 1-A, and even almost a decade later, you and a multitude of others still climb to new heights of success!" She exclaimed.

"Yes, your point?" Dynamight retorted.

"Well," the interviewer trailed off.

"It's known that many of your comrades, especially your partner Red Riot, are married and have begun to start their own legacies… what's stopping you from doing the same?" She said.

Your eyes grew wide at the question, and you didn't know what to do in that moment. You watched as Dynamight looked you in the eyes. Frowning, you mouthed out to him.

'You don't have to answer that question.'

As his eyes focused back over to the interviewer, he began to speak. "It's hard to do those things when you're better than them." The interviewer began to laugh at his response.

"On the contrary, Dynamight, I tend to disagree…"

"And why is that?" he snapped back.

"Well, around a month ago, you were seen dating multiple women at once. People these days would say you're testing the waters? Tasting all the flavors at once?" She said with a smug smirk.

"At the end of the day, I'm a man like everyone else. Just like the man behind this shitty camera," he points. "The man over there eating all the complementary bagels," he points again. "And the man right in front of me with too much nose hair." He points directly at the interviewer with a shit-eating grin.

Gasping out loud, you smack your hand above your mouth. In a quick step, you move in front of the rolling camera. "Okay! Time to go!" You nervously chuckle, watching as Roxie throws daggers at the Pro-Hero.

"It really is true; you are an asshole."

"Maybe he wouldn't be an asshole if you didn't ask shitty questions," you spat at her. Scoffing, Roxie stands from her seat and walks up to you. But before she could even step a centimeter in your direction, your boss was three steps ahead.

"What're you gonna do? Hit her? I fuckin' dare you," he snarls with a sadistic grin. Looking down, you notice his hands begin to radiate sparks. Panicking, you tried to step in front of his muscular figure, but he wouldn't even budge.

"Is that a threat?" She says.

"It can be whatever you want it to be, just know you're going down regardless. So, like I said," he takes a step closer to her.

"Hit her and see what happens," he whispers.

You watch as the interviewer steps back and off of the stage, spewing out a million cuss words a second. Swallowing your spit, you walk off as well. With no words spoken, the blonde follows suit. Showing off a friendly goodbye (he throws back the middle finger), the both of you are back in the car and on your way back to the agency.

Entering back into the office, you look at the clock and let out a sigh. "Well, this is where the fun ends," you say, starting to gather your things and head towards the door. But Dynamight stops you.

"Hey, don't leave without me."

Turning around, you look confused. "Why?" you ask, and the blonde rolls his eyes as he grabs his coat. "Because I'm taking you out," he says. Pouting your lips, you become puzzled by his statement.

"I don't get it."

The blonde stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. "Remember, I'm asking the questions now." Dynamight takes your stuff from your hands and heads for the door.

As both of you head down to the parking lot and settle into his car, the blonde begins to speak. "Gotta question for ya," he mumbles. You hum in response before watching the blonde ponder his thoughts.

"Why did you take up for me today? Y'know I'm fully capable of taking care of myself, right?" He dryly chuckles. Looking out into the distance, you mentally cringe, reflecting on the events that happened today.

"Well, I did it because, believe it or not, the both of us have a reputation to uphold. And secondly, she was a bitch." You say flatly. The blonde nods at your answer before asking another question.

"Why do you always act the way you act?"

You suddenly face him, surprised. "What do you mean? How do I act?" you say, sounding hyperaware. This makes him smirk, "you know, whenever I'm around you, you always act as if it's your first day here."

"I do that?"

"Constantly."

"Oh…"

Soon riding through the city, Katsuki reaches your apartment—

"Hey, my place is right there!" you shout. "Nah, I told you we're going out—"

"But people will see us!" you shout worriedly. Katsuki holds his head down for a couple of seconds before he sets his eyes back on the road. "Listen woman, if you haven't noticed by now, I really don't give a fuck," he curses. Blinking at him, you curse under your breath, "okay sure, but, you don't even have a change of clothes."

The blonde only changed his shirt to a regular black t-shirt and keeps his hero suit pants on with a pair of sneakers. "So? You're saying that as if the fashion police are running rampant in the city," he turns his face upward at you.

"Well, you may not care, but I care. I look crazy." You suddenly grew self-conscious as you began to look at your outfit. Hair a bit disheveled and clothes wrinkled, you didn't look your best. Katsuki rolls his eyes as he shared a quick glance at your figure.

"First off, you look fine."

Suddenly, the car comes to a strong stop. Causing the both of you to jerk. Unfazed by his actions, Katsuki soon places the car in park and looks into your eyes. "Secondly, you were proposed to in that outfit, take that information however you please."

Finishing his sentence, he steps out of the car swiftly and walks over to open your door. Stepping out of the vehicle, you didn't recognize the area. Even though you were near your place, you never took the time to actually go outside and experience the area, kinda sad.

It's just always, work, work, work.

"Where are we?" you asked.

"Nowhere really, we're going on a walk." Katsuki then extends his arm toward you. With a hesitant reach, you slowly loop your arm around his and begin to walk. The feeling felt so surreal in that moment.

You, walking in the middle of some random back alley with a pro-hero? The second-best-ranked hero in all of Japan, by the way. You bit the inside of your cheek as you continued to take another step in front of the other.

"So, what's your favorite color?" he asks.

Halting in your steps, you look at Katsuki with a deadpan expression. You suddenly crack a smile, "are you serious?" you chuckled. "Better safe than sorry…" the blonde trails off.

"It's (favorite color), I don't know if you notice, but pretty much over 80 percent of the things in my place are that color," you chuckled. Katsuki nods at your answer before he continues on to the next question.

"Hobbies?"

'well…'

Later into the evening, things went very smoothly as the both of you began to chatter and walk aimlessly through the parks of your town.

The both of you got to know one another, as Katsuki told you an embarrassing moment about him as a child which led to you giving some back in return.

"It's weird—talking to you like this, it almost feels weird." You chuckled out, Katsuki looks slightly confused at your words. "Why would it be weird?" he says.

"Because you're my boss at one moment, and yet you're also my fiancé. It's easy to distinguish the two, but this feels different." You say, thinking in your mind for a possible hypothesis for the way you're feeling.

"It's weird because there's this strong title on us, but we're finally getting to know each other for the first time…like we're friends?" You questioned yourself, the pitch in your voice raised as you looked at the pro-hero for some backup.

You watch as Katsuki silently nods his head. "Yeah, it's weird," he responds flatly. Well, there goes your deep moment. The moon hung in the night sky, casting a gentle glow on the surroundings, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. The rhythmic sounds of your footsteps echoed in the quiet park as you continued your stroll.

"Well, listen—"

"Woah!"

Snapping your head towards the loud shout, you watch as a stampede of kids wanders straight towards the both of you. "Wow! Are you really Dynamight?" one of the kids speaks. Looking over at the hero, you snake your arm out of his hold before he looks down at the kid with a frown.

"And if I was?" Katsuki asks the kid, tilting his head as he watches the group of kids look at each other and ponder their next choice of words. "Then this would be the best day of our lives!" one of them exclaimed, soon all the other kids bustled in agreement.

"Well then, I'm guilty."

Soon the group of kids erupts with cheering and sounds of awe. You watch as the kids grow closer to the hero, admiring him as close as they can. From drooling at his costume (at least some parts of them), screams of excitement watching him as they quote: "go boom boom," to giggling when they touch his spiky hair.

You smile softly as you watch the fondness of the hero. Maybe you should've chosen to do the interview with the kids instead…

"Excuse me, miss, you're really pretty."

Startled, you look down at one of the tinier children. Flattered, you brightly smile and bend down to be on their level. "Well, thank you very much. I find you very adorable." You giggle, as you watch the child become bashful at your words.

Looking up, you watch as Katsuki was…smiling?

You've seen him smile before, but this time it was different. It was warm, almost endearing? The moon hung in the night sky, casting a gentle glow on the surroundings, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. The rhythmic sounds of your footsteps echoed in the quiet park as you continued your stroll.

As the kids bombarded Dynamight with questions, you couldn't help but join in on the excitement. "Hey, Dynamight, which hero do you think is the strongest?" one curious kid asked.

Katsuki smirked, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Well, obviously it's me. No one can beat Dynamight!" he declared, causing the kids to burst into laughter and applause.

Another child chimed in, "Miss, are you Dynamight's girlfriend?"

You chuckled, "No, not really... We work together."

"But you'd make a cool superhero couple!" one kid insisted.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, shooting you a sidelong glance. "They're smarter than they look," he muttered under his breath, earning a playful nudge from you.

"You kids treat her with respect, this is my fiance. Understand?" He says sternly. The kids comply blindly, as they would do anything to appease one of their role models.

The encounter with the kids turned into a delightful conversation, filled with laughter and innocent questions. It was a refreshing break from the usual routine, and you found yourself enjoying the unexpected bonding sesh with Dynamight.

"Yep, he's my fiance."

HELLO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS! Here's my gift to you all. Also, I gave the story a new theme, hope you all like it!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

➜ TAGLIST

❥: @xo-evangeline, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows, @itgetzweird08, @yoyosocks165, @pebblepoop, @lovra974, @bakugospartner, @gaby-11, @akqsa-xxi, @jolynegf, @goldenglow149, @aliruuiz, @zukowantshishonourback, @ilovedenk-i, @atsushiki, @smolbeanzzz, @lem-hhn, @stevenknightmarc, @katsu-shi, @ryumiii, @idontevenknowlolls, @lyn07, @kennshifts, @ackerman-suck-3-r, @alicen23, @xasilex, @elegantvoids, @lowkeyremi, @plutounderbridges, @k0z3me, @thecurlyhairedgoddess, @sunyrose, @winterv-black, @chuugarettes, @kiarathace, @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @hyu-hl , @katsukisxslut , @optimisticprime3 , @cosmicbreathe , @yessimo , @sanemishina , @snxwycloud ,

@cosmic-rainstorm, @vinivave , @venus-xxoo , @lavender99 , @iluv-ace , @artfulthoughtsblog , @thatcreepycat , @prettylittleshady , @lavalampfullofsoup, @melodykittya , @bakugoiidaswaifu, @queendynamite2001

[hattedhedgehog]

I'm so happy to have finished my Kinnporsche the Series posca marker illustrations! I planned these out earlier this year and it took a long time to get in the right headspace for them. In the end, after multiple Kinnporsche rewatches and months of putting them off, I finished them all in about a week.

This show is so visually stunning, and I thought the vibrance of posca markers would be the best way for me to show my appreciation for its creativity. The beautiful lighting is such a fun contrast with the dark themes explored.

-

[Image descriptions: 3 posca marker illustrations depicting characters from Thai BL series Kinnporsche.

1: Kinn, with a red and peach colour scheme against a blue background, smirking at the viewer. His colour bleeds together into Porsche's portrait, who is in blue and yellow tones, smoking a cigarette against a magenta background.

2: Vegas in red and orange tones lit by candles at the bottom left, against a dark green background, smirks towards Pete, who has a blue and pink colour scheme against a purple background. Pete holds a chain over one shoulder and smirks back.

3: Tankhun with an orange, pink and purple colour scheme turns up his nose in a pout while adjusting lip-shaped sunglasses. His 3 bodyguards behind him have a blue colour scheme with yellow highlights; Pete looks alert over his shoulder, Arm is frantically typing at a tablet, and Pol is holding a hand to his earpiece with a worried expression. The background is purple]

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 3: truth in spirit

word count: 1,171

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

"I go out of town for two bloody weeks because you wouldn't cease to be insufferable, insisting I go on holiday -" Polly's grip on her cigarette tightened. She shut her eyes in frustration as if trying to sum up all that's happened into one sentence was quickly eating away at her sanity. "- and suddenly that fucking informant you pulled from the river is running the place."

Tommy held his glass, nearly empty, up to his nose. He let the soft burn of whiskey fill his lungs before responding. "She's not from the river, Pol. And she's not an informant. She's a bookie."

"Under whose payroll, Thomas? Whose books does she run?"

"Her own," Tommy muttered before throwing back the last of his drink, "doesn't really play well with others, that one."

Polly chuckled at the madness of it all. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, eyes down to the table as she carefully decided what questions needed to be asked to fully understand what had transpired while she was away.

"No argument then? So, she is running the place."

"She's useful to me."

"Don't fucking lie to me. Lie to yourself for all I care," she scoffed. "Arthur told me what happened the other day. With those boys from London. She rattled you."

"She was supposed to stay hidden."

It had been your choice to handle the last situation, and you’d taken control in a way that caught even him off guard. What started as his order quickly became your game. The way you came in silently—a cold negotiation that left them cowed, without ever firing a shot or lifting a finger—shifted the air. They’d left the room looking to him for validation, but they’d taken orders from you. He might have told them to get out, but it was only after you said it first.

That moment returned to him now, the realization sinking like a weight in his chest. He’d always been in control, always the one to make the calls, pull the strings. But with you, no.

This isn’t loyalty, he thought, the concept cold and cutting. You don’t follow his orders; you interpret them. You played the moves he maps out, but on your own time, under your own circumstances. You maneuvered people—him included—as if you were making sure they stayed within the boundaries of a game only you understood.

He lit a cigarette, dragging in a lungful of smoke. His mind reeled, tracing over your every action, every look you’d given him. That slight smirk, the kiss on the cheek that was almost mocking, like you knew something he didn’t. And you did. Because while he was so caught up in his attempts to keep the room under his heel, you’d positioned yourself as the source of unearthly gravity that kept them all pinned to the floor.

“So, she is the one pulling the strings, is she?” Polly said, her tone casual but with an all-knowing edge. "No, too easy... Maybe she's just pulling your strings."

Tommy’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance passing through him, but he didn't deny it.

Polly gave a low, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. “You should have seen this coming,” she said, stepping forward. “You’ve brought her in to work for you, but she’s not here to follow orders, Tommy. She's here to test you - test us. Whether you like it or not, she's reshaping your territory with her pretty little finger.”

He flicked ash from his cigarette, his voice controlled. “She’s useful to us. Even a blind man could see that.”

“Oh, she’s more than that.” Polly’s eyes narrowed. “She’s here for something else. Might be she’s got you wrapped around that same pretty finger, and you're too thickheaded to admit it.”

Tommy scoffed, leaning back in his chair, but the dismissal didn't have its usual conviction. “You think I’m that easy to manipulate?”

Polly’s gaze hardened. “Not easy, no. But you’re a man, and men have a tendency to underestimate certain kinds of people. You think she’s just here to take care of business? She’s here to test you, to see what you’re really made of. You pulled her from the shadows, and you have yet to deliver your end of the deal. She would not have allowed herself to align with you unless she was waiting for something.”

Tommy stayed silent, his expression guarded, but Polly read him all the same.

“She’s not loyal to you, not yet,” Polly continued, voice dropping lower. “And she won’t be—not unless you can prove that you’re worth it. I saw the way she looked at you during the meeting this morning. Calculating, studying your every move, every inflection of your voice that others would never otherwise detect. She’s deciding if she wants to play by your rules or if she’ll make you follow hers.”

Tommy’s fingers tightened around his glass, and he met Polly’s stare head-on. “You think I don’t know how to control someone like her? You think I have to, what, spend my time trying to prove something to her?”

“I think,” Polly said, leaning in closer, “that she’s got you doing exactly what she wants. You’re so used to leading, Tommy, you don’t even realize when someone else has started to steer.”

She paused, letting the words sink in, watching his expression shift as the weight of her words takes hold.

“She’s here for something,” Polly whispered with a hint of warning. “She’s clever enough to have worked her way into your business, but if you keep pushing without giving her what she wants, you’re going to regret it. And don’t make the mistake of thinking that she’s here for you. She’s here for power. Or loyalty. Something that you can’t just give with a few good words and a share of the profit. She wants something intangible, and she'll make sure it'll be painful for you to give it.”

Tommy remained silent, the gears turning in his mind, calculating, reassessing.

Polly sighed, standing straight again, her arms dropping to her sides. “Maybe you can have her on your side, Tommy. But you’ll have to prove you’re not just another man who thinks he can control her.”

With that, she left him alone with his thoughts, her footsteps echoing as she exits. Tommy sat there, motionless, staring at the spot where Polly stood. The silence felt heavier, the room smaller, and the realization more profound.

You’d already taken the lead, he realized, and he’d been too focused on using everything you offered to see it. The subtle gestures, the quiet manipulations, the way you brushed off his attempts at intimidation with an almost amused indifference. He had mistaken it all as loyalty waiting to be earned, but now he understood. You were here for control. And somehow, you already had it.

But if you expect loyalty to be his debt to repay, he’d have to find a way to make sure it’s a debt you can’t walk away from easily.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Please can I have a Tommy x daughter fluffy fic where as her mums died she asks him to come with her to try on ballgowns with her and he doesn’t like a few for different reasons but he gets emotional when she finds the perfect one

Hey Anon,

Hope this does it justice - this request got me in the feels. Thanks for waiting. <3

Warnings: Teen drama, mentions of funerals and death - peaky related stuff

There were a lot of things you kept to yourself when it came to your father. Most of which Esme and Polly would wrangle out of you and give you advice for. 

You were close with each other the same way you suspected other fathers and daughters were. He was there to comfort you in his own way (mostly just holding you tightly) when you needed him, he gave you books to read and would try to remember to ask you questions about how you enjoyed them. 

He was away a lot for business but he always called you before bed to ask how your day was. Some moments when he’d drank to much you saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at you, a spitting image of your mother but with his eyes. 

You adored him, and rarely ever asked him for difficult things knowing he was always stressed. 

“Awe, you miss us, don't you? Next time we go you’ll be old enough to tag along. An extra week won't kill you darling.” Esme’s voice rang out over the phone and your stomach sank. You were in a proper situation now. You said your goodbyes but didn't tell her why her taking an extra week's vacation with Pol was a problem for you. 

You lit a cigarette and slid down the kitchen wall. They would be home the day of the big charity ball, not the type of event you could get a dress for the morning of. They must have forgotten that they’d promised to take you when they got back. You didn't blame them, this was the one time they got away from kids and the business.

You could ask… Lizzie? She hung around the family, worked for your dad, and seemed nice enough to you when you came by the office. She’d probably be able to help you.

You needed a backup plan, Linda still hadn’t forgiven you for an outburst you’d had at dinner a few weeks ago, but maybe John would help you? 

You thought about getting ready with Esme he’d always tell her what looked good. Well, mostly how he enjoyed the way it looked on her, but still Esme always looked very happy with his commentary. 

You got up and flicked your cigarette out the window before going to ask for a ride to the office.

You showed up and Lizzie greeted you with a large smile. 

“Here to see your dad are you?” 

“Well, I was actually - I -” The words got caught in your throat, she was far too pretty. Thinking of her seeing your awkward body in dresses made you shrink away. “Have you seen Uncle John?” You said quickly. 

“Should be in his office.” She gave you a look and you thanked her. You knocked on the door and his voice called out. 

“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up from a mess of papers. “Your da’s got me right tangled in this stupid paperwork. Give him a kick in the shin when you see him next will ya.” 

“Sure.” You laughed. “Guess you're pretty busy then?” 

“Be lucky if we survive another week with the hens gone.” He sighed, there was no way he’d be out of this mess any time soon, but maybe he could just tell you what to wear.

“What erm- What types of things does Esme wear that you like?” He looked confused by the question. 

“Trying to impress a lad then? Odd person to come to for advice on that.” He scratched the back of his head but before you could fix what you said he’d already carried on.

“Look if he doesn't like you as you are then there's no point in going after him. Gal’s seem to think we care about all the fuss when really - we’re going to see eve-” 

“What are you doing, love?” Your father's voice called from the doorway. Happier than ever to see him you sprang up from your seat and moved to give him a hug. Jarred by what you figured John was implying you decided to just pluck up the courage to ask him to go. 

“Get that shit done John, needs to be out by tomorrow morning,” John swore at him and you followed your father out of the room his arm steering you into his office. 

“What did you need from John?” He asked moving behind his desk. 

“Well, I didn't want to bother you.” 

“Trust me, love if it's worth asking, it’s not worthy of Johns's advice.” 

“Ah, well, I need a dress for the ball.” You stated, and he gave you a curious look. “Um, well it's my first time really going, for the dinner and dancing and everything.” You coughed awkwardly. For a moment you hoped that he would just understand where this was going and tell you he’d help you, but you looked at his face and knew he was lost as ever. 

“SO” you said a little too loudly. “I erm - need to get a proper dress, Polly and Esme said they would take me but they won't be back in time.” 

You brought your gaze from the wallpaper once more to still see him still looking confused. 

“You can have any dress you want, just give me the receipt.” He shrugged. 

‘No- I erm. I just- need someone to go with me.” You confessed sounding irritated. “I don't know what looks good - I’m not good at that type of stuff. John always tells Esme what he thinks about her dresses when we get ready so I figured he would be a good person to ask.” 

“I’ll take you.” He said uncomfortably. “We can go after-” He looked down at his schedule. “Can it wait till after dinner?” 

“Oh, yeah - thanks” 

“No problem,” He said with a nod looking only slightly put off. 

“I’ll head back to the house -” 

“I’ll grab you at 7” 

You gave him a nod and then left the office saying bye to Lizzie. 

Dinner was nice, you rarely ever went out to eat. You rambled on about a book you were reading and your dad followed along. Eventually, you started to tuck into your meal and he sighed. 

“So there's a boy then?” He asked looking pained.

“No?” You said startled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. 

“No?” Tommy repeated looking at you with the look he gave when he felt you were lying. As a kid, you thought he had superpowers and could see in your mind. 

“No” You shook your head grabbing your glass of water. 

“John mentioned -” 

“He didn't understand what I was asking. Don't need to be interested in a boy just because I don't want to show up in front of all those people wearing something embarrassing.” You said defensively, face flushing. 

Tommy let out a hum and finished the last of his drink. Your last comment seemed to put him off even more. 

You finished up dinner and then headed to a fancy-looking shop. The sign on the door said closed but you followed behind your dad as he pushed the door open. 

The lady barely took notice of you as she shook your dad's hand, ensuring she would take care of anything he needs. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as she touched his arm. 

He turned to you “alright free rein of the place, go pick some out that you like. I’ll start on this side.” 

You almost wanted to laugh as if it was a joke but your father moved passed the woman and started on the far wall. She looked over your body and began pointing out some to try on. 

You thought about her suggestions and said you would try them to be polite. If you turned up looking like a frosted cupcake Esme would never let you hear the end of it. 

You moved to the long dresses and found a nice dark red one. It was a shimmery fabric but it was dark enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention. You had a feeling that it was the right one, but with the lower neckline you felt it might be a fight to take it home. You decided it was worth it and asked the woman to take it to the dressing room for you. 

You found another few that you liked well enough, all of them were black and made of various materials. 

You met back up with your dad in the lounge and saw him sipping another glass of amber liquid, a cigarette in his hand. He met your gaze and held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Wasnt much help out in the field but it’s only because I have faith in your abilities.” 

You gave him a smile, happy to see him in better spirits. You put the first one on and hated it immediately. It was much too tight and it would be impossible to dance in. 

“Not very practical.” You waddled out and you watched him point back to the dressing room sternly. “Alrighty then,” you murmured feeling embarrassed. 

You tried the cupcake one on next and fought to work up the courage to walk out in it. You struggled to get it through the doorway and your father actually laughed. 

A proper healthy loud laugh that was contagious. 

“I feel like Esme would take the piss for ages if I wore this.” You looked yourself over in the mirror.

“Not just Esme. Didn’t think it would be possible to make you look anything less than gorgeous. In that line of thinking it might not be so bad after all. Don’t want this mystery boy enjoying himself too much.” 

“Dad!” You snapped before fighting back into the dressing room. “There is no boy.” 

“If you say so.” 

You wore one of the black ones next. You walked out feeling comfortable, you thought the black would go with any jewelry and looked classy. 

You looked at your dad and his face twisted slightly. 

“No black.” His tone of voice took you off guard.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” you asked trying not to get worked up. 

“No black.” He said firmly and you knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that. 

You went back into the room. 

“Ah - that leaves one left.” 

“Give it a go,” he called back.  

You pulled on the red one and loved it instantly. It was grown up, hugging you in all the right spots without showing too much skin. The color made your blue eyes seem electric. 

You liked it so much you didn't want to show it. What if he hated it as much as the black dress? Or thought it was stupid like the pink one. 

You took a deep breath and called out. “Don’t be mean.” Then stepped out. 

You looked at the mirror avoiding your father. It looked even better in the lighting. Eventually, the silence was too much. 

You watched him take the dress in and thought you saw tears in his eyes. You wanted to run back and hide. Why was he being so weird? Even if there was a boy, it’s not uncommon at this age. Heck, most of Esme’s sisters were married by 16. 

“That’s the one eh?” He finally said looking at you.

“Yeah. Think I look grown up, but not to - erm-  showy” 

“Grown up, is one way to put it.” He finished his drink and smiled at you. “I think you look lovely. Your mother has a necklace that will match with the color” He said softly. “-if you want to wear it.” He added hurriedly. For a long time, he thought her things might have been cursed, until one day he came home from a very long trip and said it was him that was cursed. You shivered remembering that night. You always avoided touching her things, her room untouched but not forgotten. 

“I would really like that.” You said feeling emotional, you realized that the panic was about wanting to look nice, but some of it was anger that your mother was not there to help you. “Did she wear this color then?” 

“Always red.” He nodded. 

“Ah - well, I can see why.” You looked back in the mirror. 

“Look - I know this sort of thing would have been more fun with Pol or Esme- and you probably miss your mum a lot these days. Lots of changes and whatnot.” He waved his hand uncomfortably. “But - well, I enjoyed this. I don’t mind being around for this stuff. I wouldn't have liked you more as a boy or anything like that” He cleared his throat. 

Tears started to spill over something you hadn't even realized you were worried about. 

“I love you.” You said. Felt strange standing on a platform saying it down to him as a saleswoman was probably judging them from the shadows somewhere. 

“Love you too.” 

On the ride home you both made jokes about different things, Arthur and John weren't very good at taking over for Pol and Esme and you enjoyed your dad’s commentary about trying to keep the place running. 

When things quieted down you finally felt that you needed to end this boy nonsense. 

“Dad?” You asked wondering how he kept the car straight while fumbling with getting a cigarette out and lighting it. 

“Yeah?” 

“There really isn't a boy, if there was John is the last person I would ask. One time he picked me up from school, years ago, and a boy, Tim Weatherby, had waved to me. He ran his car into the back of his parent's car three times before driving off.” 

You watched your father let out another laugh. “Always classy.” 

“I’d tell you first obviously. Esme would get too excited, and Pol would worry.” 

“And what would I do then Eh?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Probably meet him and scare his pants off.” You answered honestly. 

“That’s a good thing then?”

“Obviously. If he comes back it's because he really likes me.” 

__________________________________

EXTRA - Tommy's POV 

Watching her walk out in a black dress made the fleeting moments of humor leave him. He sort of saw her in the gown but his mind flashed back to that scared little girl all dressed in black.

“No black.” He said slightly out of control of the feelings biting into him. 

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” He could see that you wanted to argue but he couldn't stand to see you in that dress any longer.  

“No black.” He said firmly and you looked a bit deflated before retreating back to the dressing room. His mind pulled him back to that day. You attached firmly to his side, dressed in all black. The way you tried so hard to behave, tucking your face into his neck to cry as they lit the vardo on fire. How you even tried to hit Polly when she tried to take you from him. How you would panic if he was out of your sight for more than a few minutes. 

No black. He ran his fingers through his hair. 

The next dress hurt nearly as bad. Tears he had not cried in years welled up in his eyes as he looked at you taking in your body in the mirror. 

So much like your mother, the style of the dress, the color. You were going to be an adult in a blink of an eye. Only small traces of that little girl left in your features. Now there would be boys and time left with it being just the two of you would start to slip away.  

He thought the dress was much too showy, you didn't understand that yet though. Considering you would be standing next to him the whole night he figured it would be alright. You could pair it with your mother's jewelry and he could get Pol to convince you to wear it with a shall or something.  

Eventually, your eyes looked at him for approval and he felt guilty for snapping at you. There was a very evident look of self-consciousness on your features. He wished it came more naturally to him. 

“That’s the one, eh?” He said and enjoyed the way your eyes lit up. He may not be the best dad, but he would try hard to spend the last time he had with you. Find things to do with you, before you became busy with the rest of the world.

[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme, Part 5

“Oi Y/N”, Finn asked as he walked into the Garrison, eyes already stuck on the girl who looked up from where she stood, wiping down the counter, a small smile taking over her lips as she looked at the youngest Shelby brother. She didn’t forget her mission to kill Thomas Shelby and to ruin his family, John and Arthur had served in the war as well, they knew about the trophies and didn’t do anything against it so they had to die as well. But Finn? Finn was such a sweet innocent boy, he acted all tough but was a big softie deep down.

“Yes?”, the girl asked, tilting her head up to looked at the Shelby who gave her a grin, “There’s a new pub that opened up around here. Care to join me?” Y/N gave him a small smile, “You know I have work-“ “Already talked with Arthur, he said it’s alright if I steal you tonight.” At this the girl let a soft laugh out, “Planning all that without even knowing if I want to come?” At this the boy opened and closed his mouth, “Do you want to come?” “I’m just messing with you Finn!”, Y/N said, tapping the boy’s peaked cap with one hand as she gave him a grin, “I’d love to join you.” “Sweet, I’ll pick you up at let’s say eight?” “Sure thing”, Y/N smiled as the young Shelby boy left the Garrison with a stupidly wide grin on his face.

“What’re you getting so dressed up for?”, Arthur asked as he noticed how his younger brother was trying his best to look as good as possible. “I’m going on a date.” Finn said with a sly grin, “With that lovely barmaid of yours.” “Oh?”, John asked as he grinned at Esme who shook her head. “Why dress up this much if you’ll probably end up undressed?”, John asked his younger brother who looked at him, “She’s not like that. Plus I promised her no alter motives.” “Oh? What a gentleman”, Arthur spoke, taking a sip of his liquor, “But you do want the night to end with your cock buried in her, eh?” Finn looked at his oldest brother, “I’m open to anything.”

=

Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with her plan, it was risky, it would most probably end in her own death. Was she really willing to accept that end? Or could she live her life without killing Thomas Shelby? He seemed genuine when talking to her and telling her that the things in France should’ve never happened to her. But he still did not recognize her, he didn’t acknowledge what he did to her. Could she live with that? Maybe build a life with Finn Shelby, he seemed like a genuine sweet boy.

But could she really live like that? Move past what was done to her? Move past what Thomas Shelby had let his men do to her?

Y/N’s heart was beating inside her chest as she moved through the hallway of the Shelby home in Small Heath, it was the middle of the night and she had made sure Finn was fast asleep. Except for Finn and her only Thomas should be present in the home. John and Esme were in their own home, Arthur should be in the rooms above the Garrison and Pol was with Ada on a weekend trip. Y/N creeped over the wooden floor, making her way upstairs where she stood in front of the dark door which would lead her to Thomas. She held her breath as she put her ear up to the door, trying to listen if he was walking around or not before kneeling down to peep through the key-hole seeing into the dimly lit room, only a petrol lamp engulfing the small room with light and showing the gangster laying on his bed, seemingly asleep. With a gentle hold and force the girl clicked the door open silently, opening the door just enough for her to squeeze through before closing it again and locking the door as quietly as possible. Y/N looked at Thomas, he slept so peacefully, so calmly, so innocently.

The girl found it almost ironic.

With a small gulp she tore her eyes away from the man, keeping him in he corner of her eye to make sure she could tell if he woke up as she started silently rummaging around for something to kill him with.   A gun would be too loud and she knew she was too weak to choke or strangle him to death. So she had to look for something sharp to slit his throat with, but that would be so messy. Maybe she could find something to fill the room with that’d kill him. A gas. Y/N knew a lot about gas.

Served in the war, after all. Gas was used and it was never a pretty sight. Her uncle was one of the main causes for the usage and invention of toxic gas. And he taught her a lot.

That was also one of the reasons Y/N could immediately identify the opium-pipe laying besides the man. The girl let out a small sigh as she found nothing to kill him with. Now was the perfect time, now would’ve been the perfect time to kill him. It was still dark outside, it would’ve been perfect.

Kill Thomas, run back home and pack all things and leave before anyone would find out.

But she couldn’t find anything, nothing except for the gun, and the gun would be too loud.

“Fuck it”, the girl whispered as she grabbed ahold of the gun, pointing it at the sleeping man as she walked closer to him, putting her finger on the trigger before pulling it. Expecting a bang and the familiar feeling of hot blood on her face. But nothing, so she opened her eyes. She had pulled the trigger on an empty chamber. That fucker emptied his gun before going to sleep. And she didn’t know where the bullets were, she hadn’t seen them anywhere in the room. He must keep them under his pillow or somewhere on him. And those she certainly couldn’t get.

“You live another day. Lucky bastard”, the girl whispered, putting the gun back to where she found it before slipping out of his room and back into Finn’s.

=

“Morning Finn, Y/N”, Thomas greeted, still somewhat tiredly, pausing at his last words before turning around to look at the girl seated by the table, “Y/N?” “Good morning Mr. Shelby”, the girl greeted politely as she took a sip from the tea she had made for Finn and herself. “You stayed the night?”, the oldest man present asked as he made himself some coffee before sitting down across from the two teenagers. “Yeah, you don’t mind do ya’?”, Finn spoke up still groggily himself as he looked at his older brother who just shook his head, “It’s fine. Just let us know next time. Wouldn’t wanna walk in on something.”

“Mr. Shelby nothing happened”, Y/N said as she glanced at Finn who nodded to his brother, “Yeah Tommy, she’s right. We didn’t do anything.” Thomas just raised an eyebrow, “And I’m supposed to believe that?” “Yes”, both teens spoke in union as Finn cleared his throat, “We were in some pub that had opened up and then when I was walking her back it started pouring and you know Y/N’s home is on the other end of Small Heath. Didn’t want her catching a cold.” “What a gentleman Finn”, Thomas said as his eyes stayed trailed on the girl, maybe then he did not have such a wild dream.

“Your aunt raised him well”, Y/N spoke as she got up, she was already dressed, “I have to get going. Who knows in what state the Garrison is.”

Tagged ppl: @hollyluvseveryone4ever13

[mydear-corinthian]

Bait || Shelby family x reader

Synopsis: Reader went out partying and the Shelby family's enemy attacked her. Pairing: Shelby family x sister! reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured badly, mentions of blood, stabbing, and violence, swearing Notes: rushed :C, gif is mine Click here to find the MAIN Masterlist Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS Masterlist

It was just a usual night in Small Heath. Due to the boredom, you decided to go outside and maybe have a little fun.

You dressed up. A long gold dress decorated your body. A feathered hat decorated your head. And a few pearl jewelry shined your neck, arms, and ears. Grabbing your gold colour purse, you exited your room, spiraling down the wooden stairs of your family's house.

As you went down, Polly saw you. "Where you going, love?" she asked, smiling.

Grabbing a cigarette stick, you placed it on your lips, leaning to Polly as your aunt was also about to light her long black stick of the cancerous stick. "Party, Aunt Pol. I'm getting bored staying in this house," you replied, your cigarette finally lit.

The matriarch of the family took a puff of her cigarette, her serious eyes locked on yours. 

"Where? Who's going with you?" Polly asked.

"Oh, Aunt Pol.., I'll be fine. It's just 2 streets away from here. I'll be home at 2 am."

"Take care and enjoy love," she smiled, opening the door of the house's entrance, allowing you to exit the house.

<>

The only real issue was that you were wearing heels on the short walk from the house to the party location. Warm lights and vehicles adorned the spacious mansion. The estate was packed with elegantly dressed people in suits. You headed straight to the mansion's bar as soon as you got there and ordered a drink for yourself. Your heels reverberated against the bar's porcelain tiles. Men made up the majority of the crowd, and they were all too busy chatting, drinking, and trying to find women to satisfy their lusts.

"Whiskey, please," you ordered. You sat down just in front of the barman, glancing at everyone while waiting for your drink.

There were a few faces, you knew them because of your brother, Tommy and some were rich clients from the betting shop.

Finally, the barman gently placed a glass of whiskey in front of you. "Your drink, Madam."

You thanked him, picked up the glass, and sipped, letting the alcohol wash over your mouth. After placing a couple more drink orders, you made your way to the dance floor and started to dance energetically to the loud music being played. You moved your hips in time with the song's tune. You're waving your arms in the air. As you danced with the women, the dance floor was filled with a chorus of woos and laughs. Drinks were chugged into your system in tremendous amounts.

<>

You excused yourself and your new friends to go the restroom after a few hours of nonstop drinking and dancing. You were relieved that after eating at your place for a few hours, despite having numerous drinks, you were sober. You reapplied your clothing and your cherry lipstick as you straightened your hair in front of the big mirror. It's almost two, you realize as you glance at your pocket watch. Because you're the kind of person who takes responsibility seriously, is mature, and always arrives on time, Polly wasn't concerned about you going out late to party. After gathering your belongings, you put them back into your golden handbag and head out of the bathroom.

Finally saying goodbye to your new girlfriends, your heels found their way to the mansion's exit. Since you were sober already, you decided to take a walk back home.

As you walk through the dark streets of Birmingham, you cannot help but feel uneasy. You felt like you weren't alone at all. You felt that someone or somebody was following you.

And you were right.

Reaching for your pocket gun, you tried to protect yourself from the person who was following you by looking over your shoulder. You were too late, though. You were forcefully grabbed by two men, one of whom disarmed your gun. You were trapped against the wall by two rough pairs of arms, your head hitting the rocky concrete. Particularly on your stomach, you felt something cold and sharp graze your flesh, and the pain eventually got intolerable.

"What the fuck do you want!" you panted weakly, feeling a warm liquid drip on the side of your stomach.

"Just.. sending a message to your git brother," the low Irish accent sent shivers down your spine.

Campbell.

On the other hand, Polly was at the dining table, a cigarette in her hand as she watched the clock tick.

It was already past 2 and she started to get worried. You always come home on time - not even a minute late.

Polly hurriedly went to the telephone and dialed Tommy's number, her fingers shivering.

"Hello?"

"Tommy,"

"Pol? Why are you calling at this hour?"

"I-it's (y/n). She's not home yet and I'm starting to get worried. Oh God, Tommy. What if something happened to her?" Polly stammered, holding the telephone pole tightly.

"Not at home? I'll call John and Arthur." Tommy replied before ending the call.

<>

You tried to move and get out from their touch but due to the injury that you had, you were getting weaker.

"Tell your fucking boss to fuck off!" you hollered, heaving due to the pain down your stomach.

Punches rained down on you so hard you were gasping for air and screaming in pain as two strong fists crashed into your stomach and chest. Every blow sent waves of pain through your body, causing your legs to buckle and your breath to come in short, frantic gasps. Every strike was brutal, breaking your will and power in the process.

During the cruel assault, a fresh, burning pain suddenly appeared in your abdomen. Compared to previous experiences, this feeling was sharper and stronger. Frightened, you looked down to see the sparkle of a blade pressing against your body again. The man with the knife was cautious, taking his time as he carved the initials "C.C" into your flesh. The letters were an endless source of pain and abuse burned into your mind.

Dizziness was starting to get worse and worse but you paid no mind as you built up all of your strength to get up and grab your gun that was thrown on the cold hard bricks of the dark alley. Your cold fingertips pulled the trigger, emptying the bullet chamber by shooting them non-stop.

Two bodies were now on the cold floor, both lifeless, and their blood pooling out of their bodies, mixing with the hard concrete.

"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders."

Taking a deep breath at what happened, you stood up but moaned in pain after you felt the cuts and bruises all over your body. Looking down at your stomach, your dress was slit and filled with your blood.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered. Leaving your bag alone and limply walked back to the house.

Every step was a painful fight and the walk seemed to go on forever. Your back was laden with weight, and the pressure turned your spine into a throbbing rod of agony. Your single shoe scraped the uneven sidewalk, causing sharp pains to shoot through your leg with each step. As you struggled to remain straight the world around you became hazy and wobbly, and your vision became less sharp at the edges. You could feel consciousness sliding away, hovering on the edge of darkness, and every breath was a strained gasp. If you returned home without passing out, you were quite lucky.

Thankfully, you did.

Your bloodied palm opened the silver-colored knob, twisting it, and opened the door with all of your might.

There Polly was, looking at you with widened eyes. She ran towards you immediately, checking up on you.

"Dear God (y/n)! What happened to you?!"

Your body became weak due to a lack of strength in your muscles. You had a really pale face. Your dress was stained and damaged by your blood, and your hair is disheveled. Your aunt's voice fades more and further, the walls in your head beginning to swirl. After that, all you could see was darkness.

Polly caught you before your head contact with the wooden floor. Your arm limped on her touch.

The whole Shelby family including Michael, arrived at the doorstep, looking at the scene in front of them with their eyes locked and widened.

"Help me out here!"

As Polly commanded, everyone went inside. Tommy, John, and Arthur carried you gently before placing you on the dinner table that was filled with glasses and plates. Tommy removed the items on the table before Arthur placed you there. Michael and Ada quickly grabbed the first aid kit that was inside the kitchen room's wooden cabinet.

When Polly teared up your dress, she gasped.

"C.C.. Fucking Campbell," Polly's voice hissed, seeing the carved initials on your stomach, bleeding harshly.

Your breaths started to get faint and weaker, your body started to get cold.

"Stay with me, (y/n)," Ada whispered between sobs as she watched Polly do something with your wounds and help her aunt hand out the supplies that she needed.

"Fuck.. Fuck!" Tommy shouted, walking in circles as he rubbed his temples harshly.

"Arthur, John, Finn, Michael, find Campbell immediately!" he ordered.

"Bring me back his fucking head."

Michael and the brothers moved quickly, their actions a blur of rage and anger. They took immediate action after realizing this. With a mixture of terror and determination, their hands trembled as they took out their firearms from their pockets. The icy steel of the weapons was comforting, a guarantee of justice for the wrongs done.

They left the home without saying anything, the wooden door slamming shut behind them with a loud crash. They were barely aware of the sharp, biting night air. Their only thought was to locate the person who was responsible for this. 

"She isn't even part of this fucking shit and yet she was targeted,"

Polly's eyes shot daggers with Tommy's blue orbs while her hands focused on healing up the wounds all over your stomach.

"You better fucking catch him, Tommy."

As soon as Polly's done patching you up, she stormed out in front of her nephew, disappointed at him.

"I'll look out for (y/n). You heard Aunt Pol, catch that bastard," Ada said, fixing up the used cotton and alcohol before throwing it out.

Tommy sighed as he exited the house. Looking for the man who did this to you.

<>

You woke up with the sunlight beaming on you. Looking at your surroundings, you noticed where you were right away.

Slowly, you tried getting up but your body fell again, moaning in pain.

"Easy, (y/n). Don't move, your wounds are still fresh," Ada said, slowly guiding your back to allow you to lie down comfortably.

"A-Ada, I was so scared... I didn't know what was going on.."

Your eyes were starting to get wet until tears were dropping down your cheeks as you recalled what happened last night.

You were so traumatized. You didn't want to remember again. 

And that time, you knew that remembering is a curse.

"You're safe now, love. We're here now," Polly said, her arms locked with yours, giving you a comforting smile.

The door opened, and your brothers were there.

They immediately greeted you and asked how you were.

"God, love. I'm sorry that happened to you," your oldest brother, Arthur, said, gently combing your hair with his rough fingertips.

"It's okay, Arthur. I'm fine now,"

"We got him already," Finn remarked.

The gang leader showed up, his coat hanging on the chair. His footsteps echoed in the room as he approached you, placing his palms on your head.

"How are you now?" he asked, sighing.

"Fucking scared, Tom. I nearly died! This is fucked up."

"I know, (y/n). I know."

Polly stood up in the middle of the small argument, shutting the both of you. Her fists curl up like a ball, her brows knit together.

"Let her rest first, Tom. She had enough already," she said.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly before exiting the house.

Tommy felt simply anger and guilt. Even though his sister isn't involved in the business, she was the one targeted. She's currently in there getting better from the physical and emotional trauma she recently went through.

"You're safe now, love." Polly gave you a comforting smile before asking the other Shelby siblings for breakfast. 

"Thank you, Aunt Pol."

[lavender-romancer]

Loving girl

Tommy Shelby x reader

CW: suicide mentions, grief

You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy, after Grace died you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

When you were younger it was easier to deal with the unrequited feelings of a teenage crush. Everyone has those feelings when they're around 15, it's not unheard of for them to go away after a few years or even months. But this was incomparably different. You didn't know how to express your feelings in a coherent way to him, the way you had always shown affection towards him was support and material things like buying him cigarettes or baking him something. There was no way to vocalise your feelings because you were so awful with expressing yourself. Instead turning towards sexual and substance based distractions which would allow you to forget about him for a moment.

Tommy didn't care for labels unless there were children involved, he didn't have girlfriends only women he fucked. Grace became his wife because of Charlie and you didn't know if it would have been different if she wasn't pregnant. Tommy Shelby expressed fondness for Grace but nothing which you would call love, responsibility was more important to him.

You so wanted the story of the two of you to end happily, the teasing that the two of you got from the Shelby brothers was enough to make you hope there was something there but it was a story. A story that you liked to manufacture an ending for rather than feelings based in fact. Tommy saw you as his closest friend but since that wouldn't be too popular with his new wife you'd been seeing each other less and less over the years. You still saw the other Shelby's and Michael at the Garrison most evenings and at work but Tommy was scarcely around.

Everyday felt prettier when you saw Tommy, when he was in a room with you it made you feel instantly more comfortable. It had been this way since you were younger, racing to meet him after school and go on a walk together before having dinner at Pol's house. The memories of your youth where your minds just contained an emptiness of anxieties that you'd experience later in life. You'd never seen Tommy quite as anxious as when you saw him after Grace had died. It was the first time the room didn't feel prettier with him being there. you could appreciate the stoic dimness of the lamp on his desk and how the grand windows let in a beautiful amount of light but… just the bags under Thomas' eyes indicated how sleepless these nights had been.

"Got these for you and made you some stuff, don't worry if you don't eat it," you softly placed two packs of cigarettes and a tin of pastries on his desk.

"Thank you," he said gruffly with a nod, immediately looking at the packaging of the cigarettes "The posh ones eh? Spending all that money on me?" He showed the hints of a smile and you took it gratefully.

"I mean, clearly in a slum like this you could do with the glamor of taste," you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

"You always have the worst attempts at humor I've ever heard." Tommy sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh shut up, now give me one of those and we can chat," you held your hand out and Tommy handed you a cigarette which you lit after you sat down on the chair in front of him.

"Chat, hmm? We haven't done that in a while have we." Tommy reminisced.

"I meant to apologise about that. I should've made more of an effort to see you." You pursed your lips uncomfortably but Tommy waved you off.

"Not at all, she wouldn't have liked you being here anyways. It was a good decision, jealousy can fester from any corner of a friendship." Tommy lit his own cigarette.

"How has today been?" You asked.

"Just as shit as the others. My never ending guilt and the wish I had died instead is still such a strong feeling," he paused "Do you think it will ever go away?"

"That's a lot to ask of your unconscious thoughts, Thomas. They're not usually that helpful in normal situations." You smiled at him and he nodded.

"I thought so, Charlie will now grow up without a mother and that's one thing I can't fix with all the money in the world. It's so frustrating." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How is Charlie?" You changed the subject because you feared that line of conversation would go nowhere.

"You're doing that thing you do again," Tommy looked like he almost smiled.

"What thing?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The way you change the subject when I start getting emotional so I don't actually get there," he commented and you shrugged.

"It's what friends do isn't it." You took a deep breath in and out.

"You're too considerate for your own good, Y/n." Tommy tapped the ash off his cig and looked into your eyes.

"Only to you," you said quietly.

"I know, I appreciate it. A lot," he paused "I always wondered what it would be like to have that amount of consideration all the time."

"What do you mean?" Your palms began to sweat.

"Just when I'm imagining a world like that, you know? With more people like you," Tommy paused and smiled sadly at you. "It would be infinitely better than what we suffer with now."

"Tommy… you've drank too much today," you said cautiously looking at the half empty whisky bottle on his desk.

"And yet, I'm thinking clearer." He suddenly stood up and walked over to the window.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"How I want to burn it all," he said in a stoic voice and you could have shivered at how serious it sounded.

"Well I don't think arson would be the best move for you next." You smiled to yourself and he let out a small closed mouth smile before leaning the side of his head against the window.

"It's something Michael said when I met him again, that if he saw the pretty white brick wishing well in his old village again he would blow it up just to see the bricks everywhere. I want to do the same thing to this fucking house half the time," Tommy closed his eyes.

"But this is now Charlie's home, you have to think about consistency with his life from now on." You reasoned and Tommy nodded slowly.

"He's the only reason I haven't done it. The only reason I won't." He walked back to his desk and sat down before pouring another whisky as well as one for you.

"Thank you. So, what's next?" You asked, sitting back on the sofa nursing your glass.

"Business, business, business I think. It's the only way I know to distract myself from the enormity of this fucking house and all the fucking loss that's occurred throughout it." Tommy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why don't you tell me about it? The loss I mean." You proposed and Tommy sounded like he scoffed at the idea.

"Turning into my personal shrink now are you, eh?" He asked.

"I'm being a friend." You said simply and he nodded.

"You're right, but I'm not the man for those kinds of conversations. I don't know how to verbalise any of it," he took a drink. "I do sometimes wish we could go back to being 14, lying in wildflowers without any issues we couldn't solve with a bit of practical thinking. Everthing is so fucking hard now, Y/n and I don't think I can cope with it for much longer."

"You don't mean that, we were just innocents but, we all have to grow up at some point and you decided your life path when you got married and had children within the marriage. You can't back out now to go back to a simpler time or something," You placed the glass down and walked over to the desk.

"Why do you fit so well together?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so reasonable and caring and you want to help me even though I've been a terrible friend. You like your job and your house and your social life, everything fits together so well. Whereas I always feel like I'm on the verge of the end everyday." Tommy looked up at you and you shook your head.

"You know I'm even better at lying than you are. That's how I do it, fake confidence, fake togetherness. Whatever it takes to get me through the day because eventually it feels normal to me." You reached over and touched Tommy's hand.

"I used to crave a normal routine but then after the war I couldn't deal with the plague of silence that comes with it. Everytime I would have normality it would be colliding with some kind of crisis I created to make my own life more interesting." Tommy rubbed his temple with his other hand and you frowned.

"And what does wallowing in it do for you?" You asked.

"I know, it's fucking deluded of me. But I don't know how else to get through. How do you deal with grief?" He asked.

"Talking about it for a start, I don't know…screaming sometimes works. When my mum died I punched a wall." You laughed and Tommy smiled to himself.

"I can see myself doing the second thing at least, talking about it makes me want to commit. It's just…so fucking sad because Charlie's mum's died when it should've been me. It was a bullet meant for me." Tommy sighed and you walked around his desk to stand in front of him.

"Come here," you beckoned him to stand in front of you and he slowly got up and straightened his waistcoat.

You pulled him into a deeply needed embrace, Tommy hadn't received any type of comfort that had actually worked until now. He cried. He cried for the mother of his child, he cried for the fact that he didn't love her. But most of all he cried for himself, his own shame at being alive.

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[justrainandcoffee]

The witch

Prev || Masterlist

Summary: Pollyanna Greyjoy had prophetic dreams all her life and this time, it's all about death and a war she cannot stop.

Warnings: None.

Words: 470.

Pollyanna Greyjoy, née Ryswell, was in her bedroom contemplating the flames in the fireplace.

Her dreams were part of her since she was a child. Especially those that involved death. She saw her sister-in-law's death a decade ago and it became true. And the only thing she'd do about that was to wait. Because once the magic writes the fate of people, there was nothing that the mortals could do to avoid it.

And it was happening again.

Death was coming but this time it was a war. The worst of all: a war made in name of love.

A rose in middle of the the stag and the wolf and the white snow covered in blood. Pollyanna sighed. Love it was always the most powerful weapon and when it's about young people even more.

In her dreams, alongside with the blood, she saw the letter 'J'. Of course she knew what that meant but she refused to accept it. Not the death knocking on her door again. Her family finally had certain stability and she could even say that they were happy. And lucky.

With Jared the Cruel reigning the North and his sword always ready to be used, the fact that the old Stark never visited their lands it was indeed good luck.

Pollyanna stood up and looked at the flames. The visions in her dreams were clear for her as the sun in the sky.

She'd warn her family to be prepared but the problem was that prophetic dreams didn't have date. It'd be tomorrow or in five years.

How to cope with something that you don't know when it's going to happen?

Pollyanna left her room and went to the the small temple they had. It was still night and no one saw her, the sky was clear and the moon illuminated her way.

The Ryswell were devoted to the Faith of the Seven and the seven-pointed star was around their lands.

She knelt down and lit up a candle. Her prayers this time were for the Stranger, who represented death and the unknown.

"Please…" she said, closing her eyes.

The wind blowing made the candlelight dance as a single tear ran down her left cheek.

Pollyanna left the temple no longer after.

"Pol," she heard, "What are you doing here? It's late and it's freezing!"

Behind her, the tall figure of Jon Ryswell was looking at her.

"I needed to pray, Jon. What are you doing here?"

"Heard noises but I guess it was just you. Let's go inside, Pol. You're going to catch a cold."

Jon's blue eyes looked at her with tenderness and Pollyanna stroked her nephew's face.

"Alright, let's go inside, darling" she said accepting his hug.

------

But she couldn't stop thinking that the letter J on the snow covered in blood, belonged to him.

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