#yeah i took it from peaky blinders

[onepiecehiperfixation]

Marine oficial: By the way wich one am I talking to? Who's the boss? Sanji: Well I'm the oldest. Marine oficial: Hu, clearly. Zoro: Are you laughing at my crewmate? Marine oficial: Right blondie locks is the oldest, you are the thickiest, I'm told the boss is called Luffy, and I'm guessing that's you, because your looking at me up and down as if I was a fucking dumbass. Luffy: I wanna know what do you want.

[agentidiot]

fave horse girl tommy

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 31/10/2024 The Grid - Halloween Party

Plot: Halloween Party Couple Costumes

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

You both went to the party as the characters from Kill Bill, it was one of Max's favorite films and you were excited to dress up as the Bride. Originally you were going to go for the full latex outfit but because Max had a few parties in the same night you'd both be travelling between you had to do a bit of makeshift work.

"You look hot" he says looking over you as you unzip the bright yellow top you had on, just to show off a little more cleavage for him.

"Yeah?" you ask pulling the katana up and holding it in positions being goofy as he took some pictures of you.

"And i think dying your hair blonde ... good shout" he grins running his hands through your freshly dyed blonde locks just so you could pull of this Halloween costume without a wig.

LANDO NORRIS:

You wanted to be funny and go as Gru and Vector ... but no McLaren thought it was too 'silly' and wasn't a 'good image' for Lando as a now championship contender.

So you guys decided as you were only going to a small Quadrant Haloween party that you guys would go lowkey and just try and use as much stuff as you could from home.

Naturally you were both at home when he had the idea of both going as the game characters from Subway Surfers, out of all the games both you and Lando played you didn't expect to go as mobile game characters, something from Valorant or even Tarkov but no here you were with a red beanie, hitched up red underwear under low rise jeans and an empty aerosol can.

"Cant believe you convinced me into this" you shake your head, knowing all the girls there would be going as either really hot people or would be very funny like you'd intended ... but at least you were with Lando and you guys both couldn't escape the costume police you knew would be at the party.

"You love me babe now come on lets go jump some trains"

OSCAR PIASTRI:

When Oscar had met you when he first came to England you made of point of forcing him to binge your comfort show, Peaky Blinders with you which led to this years Halloween costume for the both of you.

While Oscar was the gentleman and got his outfit as show accurate as possible you took the hot slant on it despite having a shirt, waistcoat and jacket covering up the majority of your upper body leaving your legs to do all the hot girl work.

"We look good" Oscar smiled looking at you guys in the long full length mirror in your apartment as you guys were about to leave.

"You're right we do" you smile reaching up to kiss his cheek forgetting the bright red lipstick that was covering your lips.

"AH AH. Let them dry first" he says putting his finger on one showing the stain.

When you got to Logan's party you were met with such a different vibe. You and Oscar had decided to stay in America for Halloween which was a good choice as they were crazy for any kind of holiday celebration.

"Will anyone here know who we are?" you ask wondering if you're costume was too niche.

"Lets hope they don't, quick and easy conversations so we don't look rude and unimpressed" he kisses the side of you head, knowing how introverted you both are/

CARLOS SAINZ:

Of course you had to go as young Morticia and Gomez Addams. It was something you knew for a fact Carlos would look incredible in and you had the perfect features to pull of Morticia.

You guys were attending a Halloween Party that actually had a lot of the drivers at, it was in a club that had invited you all as a brand deal with F1 and you guys all didn't really have an excuse not to go.

You guys got an uber, which is a strange experience when you have a boyfriend who drives for a living.

So many of the other wags were there and a costume competition had been held which you and Carlos had ended up winning, you think Lando most defiantly forged the votes but you couldn't deny that you and Carlos looked like you both put the most amount off effort in.

CHARLES LECLERC:

Charles didn't ever really understand the hype for spooky season, enjoying other more family oriented holidays more such as Christmas or even birthdays.

But when you said that your sister was hosting a small party (that of course ended up being not so small at all) that she was dying for you to make an appearance at you had to go despite the late notice.

So there you guys were two days before ironing patches to blue and red tops you'd brought from the most accessible shops in Monaco and because you were bringing Charles and you wanted to match but with the lack of time options were thin.

So of course doing a really bad attempt at Sally and Lightening McQueen was the option Charles decided on and everyone at the party found you guys so funny especially once they realised who Charles was as a famous racing driver.

To say despite the 5 minute crafts outfit you guys put together you were everyone's choice of conversation both at the party and after.

YUKI TSUNODA:

Chef Linguine, absolutely not Chef Tsunoda and you as his Remi. It meant you got to dress up as a sexy mouse while Yuki could live his dreams of being a chef, dressing up in the whole outfit that you were surprised to see he just had in his closest already.

"You look like a cute mouse" he smiles looking over the white corset and sort grey skirt you'd opted for.

"Do i make a good Remi?" you ask sweetly and he nods.

"I still don't get why you didn't go as Collette" he sighs, thinking it would be odd for him to kiss you tonight when this was your outfit.

"Because canonically Collette is a better chef than Linguine because actually Linguine cannot cook without the rats help ... so I'm still not sure why i went as the rat. Maybe i should have gone as Chef Skinner" you groan now overthinking the whole costume.

FRANCO COLAPINTO:

Franco's nickname for you was 'princesa' so of course you going as one of the Disney Princesses made sense however when he said you guys should do Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel you almost lost your shit.

You were going to suggest the little mermaid as you'd love to see him in Prince Eric's soft pirate outfit but the Flynn outfit was just as exciting and you of course looked great in purple and could use your naturally blonde hair.

"Are you ready my Princesa?" he asks from the bottom of the stairs. You were expecting to turn round the corner with a soft graceful smile to see HIM awestruck at your costume.

Unfortunately god had other plans and it was you who was gobsmacked at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.

"Fuckkkkk Francoooo. Lets skip the party" you say running down the stairs to grip onto his arm.

FERNANDO ALONSO:

As an older couple on the grid who still loved a party and having fun you and Fernando decided old school was the best way forward. And for Fernando seeing you in sexy leather pants and a tight black top he was all but happy to keep pulling you away for sneaky kisses once you'd got to the club.

Nando was normally very ... sexually driven but this outfit of yours had turned him into some kind of beast and you were not complaining.

Especially when you guys got home that night.

ESTEBAN OCON:

Being the Marvel nerd that he was he'd asked if he could do Deadpool and you do Wolverine, which you did want to at first but when you couldn't find the right hairstyle and decided the outfit just didn't look good this year it fell through to be picked up another year.

Which is where his next idea came in, you'd both decided to go as Spiderman's he'd worn some grey joggers with him as the suit was pretty tight on him and he didn't want anything to come out in the media however you took the Spiderman look the whole way and for the whole night Estaban had to stay close to you warding off all the other guys who were watching you with what he explained to you as 'fuck me' eyes.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[chrisevansonly]

Little Moments

lando norris x female reader

summary: sometimes getting cozy with your boyfriend, is just the thing you need

warnings: none very fluffy

a/n: i’m slowly but surely getting back into writing, i’m sorry things are not getting out as fast🥲 and this is very teeny

(as always feedback is much appreciated)

If there was any place you loved in your home the most, it was the bedroom you shared with Lando. When you’d first moved in together this was the space the two of you vowed to make the most comforting part of this house you now shared with one another. Something that was much needed after all the chaos that came with the formula one season.

The tv was playing peaky blinders, a tv series you’d both gotten into a few weeks ago, a few candles lit on the dresser across the room, the soft glow from the bedside lamps filling the space around you. Lando had prepared a snack tray that rested in front of you on the soft beige comforter, this was the definition of relaxing.

“Comfy?”

You hummed from your spot beside him, your head resting on his shoulder gently

“Very, you make the best pillow Lan”

Hearing that you got a pinch to the side, a soft laugh spilling from your lips as you squirmed slightly

“Is that all I am to you huh? A pillow?”

“Hmm some days yes..”

Lando moved to attack your side again when you took his wrists in your hands, a smile pulling at his lips as you started a fit of nervous laughter

“No no i’m kidding! You’re the best boyfriend in the world!”

“Yeah, that’s more like it” he replied sassily, a smirk on his face as you leaned back to look at him. This position letting him lean down and press a kiss to your lips.

“And I just so happen to love you a lot..”

He leaned down and kissed you once more, as he pulled away he took a few extra seconds to admire you before smiling

“I love you a lot too baby”

Lando let you get comfortable again this time your head gravitating to his chest, his arms holding you tightly to him. There was literally no better place on earth than being right here in his arms, no interruptions, loud noise or expectations from anyone.

Just you, and you’re favourite person in the world, who also just happened to be a pretty damn good pillow…

[reiwanwan]

In his hands

I rewatched peaky blinders and have undeniably fallen in love with Alfie’s hands, especially his tattoos. So this fic will be about an obsession with his hands, enjoy xx

content warning: none

You were sitting close together in the quiet of Alfie’s study, the air thick with the scent of ink and whiskey. The room was dim, the firelight casting a warm glow across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the rugged lines that seemed to carry the weight of a life lived on his own terms. Your gaze drifted from his face to his hands, your attention captured by the dark ink that decorated his knuckles, winding across his skin in intricate, almost hypnotic patterns.

You reached out, your fingertips brushing over the tattoos on his hands, tracing each line with a kind of reverence. Alfie stilled, watching you, a bemused smirk playing at his lips. Your touch was light, almost shy, but there was a quiet intensity to it, something that spoke of fascination and unspoken attraction. Without thinking, you wrapped your fingers around his, lifting his hands and bringing them to your face. You pressed his palms to your cheeks, your skin warm against the calloused roughness of his hands, your eyes shining as you looked up at him.

Alfie raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What’s this, then?” he murmured, his tone laced with amusement. “Can’t resist me hands, treacle?”

A blush spread across your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you met his gaze with a soft, smitten smile, your fingers lacing through his as you held his hands to your face. There was a vulnerability in the way you looked at him, an openness that made his heart beat just a little faster. He could feel the warmth of your skin against his palms, the way your gaze softened, darkened, as you took in every detail.

“You’re lookin’ at me like I’m a damn work of art,” he teased, his voice a low, affectionate rasp. “I could use to this, real fuckin used to it”

You laughed softly, a quiet, breathless sound. “Maybe it’s you,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, “or maybe it’s the way you carry yourself. Strong… confident.” Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but you didn’t look away.

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your chin, feeling the softness of your skin under his touch. “Is that right?” he murmured, his voice dropping as his fingers tilted your face up slightly. “You like the feel of me hands on you, yeah? Could’ve just asked.”

A shiver ran through you , and you didn’t answer, you only closed your eyes as his thumb grazed over your cheekbone, down to your chin. You felt yourself melt, your usual reserve slipping away under the weight of his touch, the slow, deliberate way he explored your expression, your softness.

Unable to resist, You leaned forward, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown tattoo that adorned his knuckles. Your lips were soft against his skin, your touch leaving a warmth that lingered even after you pulled away.

He tilted his head, a glint of mischief and warmth in his eyes as he watched you. “Well now, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling, “you keep that up, and I’m gonna have to show you what else these hands can do.”

Your breath was caught, but you didn’t look away, your fingers tightening around his. You were captivated, helpless under the weight of his gaze, knowing you’d let him do whatever he wanted. In that quiet moment, with his hands framing your face, it felt as if the whole world had narrowed to just the two of you, to his touch and the heat simmering between the both of you, waiting to be unleashed.

[megalony]

Just Her

This is my first Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders) imagine, I hope everyone will enjoy it. Feedback, comments and requests are always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @anonyymoouussssss​​

Masterlist

Summary: When attending a charity event, (Y/n) suddenly takes a turn for the worst and Tommy has to take care of his wife.

Enjoy.

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

The soft, lulling music hit (Y/n) as soon as they walked through the doors, blended with the voices of others arriving and mingling together.

Charity events weren't the kind of thing (Y/n) enjoyed. There were too many people keeping up false pretences, fake smiles and chatter that could melt anyone's ears off. And the Blinders didn't have the best track record because wherever they went, bad things happened.

With Tommy's arm secured around her waist and her body tucked safely into his side, (Y/n) could feel the gun strapped into his holster at the side of his chest. A safety measure he never went anywhere without and it was something (Y/n) now found strangely comforting, just like the smell of his cigarettes and the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.

"Shall we get a drink?" (Y/n) leaned her head on Tommy's shoulder as Arthur and John walked past them and dispersed into the large hall, mingling and searching for Ada and Polly who were already here somewhere.

"Sure."

It felt strange to (Y/n) to see Tommy wearing a smart suit like this, it wasn't the kind he would normally wear when he walked the streets or sat in the office keeping books. It wasn't grey or tweed material and he didn't have a tie or a cap sitting on his head.

His hair was slicked to the side, unruffled by a hat he had left at home, his jet black trousers were up past his hips over the white button up shirt and he had a black blazer snug over his biceps. The look would have been perfected if Tommy bothered to wear a bow tie or even his usual tie but he didn't bother tonight. His look was a mix of smart and casual and it only made him more appealing to (Y/n).

With a drink in hand, (Y/n) took a large gulp before she glanced around the room. She could see Ada far across the other side, chatting to a gentleman in a snappy suit and Arthur had wandered off near the buffet, cigarette clasped in his lips.

(Y/n) wanted to keep an eye on the rest of the Shelby clan because she knew Tommy would wander off to talk to business associates soon and she never accompanied him to those chats. Tommy liked to keep his wife as far away from the business as possible, he would introduce her and show her off but when talk started on the darker side of his work, (Y/n) excused herself. So she wouldn't be alone, uneasy and anxious, (Y/n) would stick with other members of the family until Tommy came back to find her.

"We won't stay long," As if he could read her mind, Tommy whispered the words into the top of her hair and squeezed the hand that was wrapped around her hip. "Are you okay if I go speak to someone?"

"Yeah, I'll go speak to Ada for a bit." She suddenly felt lonely when Tommy's body left her side leaving her cold and insecure without him beside her.

When Tommy drifted, (Y/n) finished the drink in her glass and slowly walked between the tables, over to where Ada was now standing next to Polly.

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

(Y/n) could feel her foot beginning to tap against the polished floor the longer she stood away from Tommy, waiting for him to come back again. It wasn't the same kind of unease that she felt whenever he was out of town or when he didn't come home until the early hours of the morning. That was a sense of panic that came with the thoughts and insatiable panic that something had happened to her husband.

The unease she felt now was because she was at a big event that was fuelling her panic and she didn't have her natural remedy next to her to calm her down; Tommy.

Events like this made (Y/n) so panicked she ended up leaving early. There was always an enemy hanging around every corner and if a fight broke out, a panic attack would follow. (Y/n) loved the bones of Tommy and his family and it didn't bother her as much as it should what he did for work but (Y/n) didn't want to witness it.

With as much of a smile as she could muster, (Y/n) excused herself from the two women she had been spending the last half an hour with and placed her empty glass down on the table before she wandered near the dance floor. Her eyes had kept tabs on her husband for a while, keeping him in sight so when she got too nervous on her own, she could easily find and approach him.

Swiping her hand against her forehead, (Y/n) took a deep breath and tried to control the panic in her system that was making her sweat and made the room feel like it was heating up.

The smile on Tommy's face when he saw her made adrenaline spark in (Y/n)'s stomach and it eased the panic welling in her chest. He had a glass in one hand and his other hand stuffed into the pocket of his trousers but when she came within reach, his arm was already wound around her waist, reeling her into his side where she belonged.

"Gentlemen, this is my wife." Tommy pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek that he noticed was a bit flushed and he could see a sheen of sweat glistening on her exposed skin in the bright lights. Dipping his head down, Tommy raised a brow, silently asking if she was alright but her smile eased the rising concern he felt. He liked the way (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his chest beneath his blazer and he could feel her nuzzling her face into his neck, moving the collar of his shirt so she could graze her lips against his skin.

Turning her head, (Y/n) kept her cheek nuzzled against his neck and a kind smile on her face towards the two men standing next to Tommy whose focus was now severed from what they had previously been talking about.

"Mrs Shelby, looking lovely,"

"Thank you,"

"How about a dance?"

(Y/n) vaguely recognised the man on Tommy's right but she couldn't recall his name and the smile on his face was less than inviting or even friendly. She wasn't so sure a dance would be fun or the right thing and with Tommy's arm tightening around her waist, (Y/n) knew he didn't agree to that either. Work and home life were always kept separate and Tommy didn't want the line between them erasing.

"Sounds like a great idea, shall we?"

A smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips when Tommy thrust his glass at the man beside him before he turned and guided (Y/n) towards the dance floor. He'd had enough of work and socialising with people like that for one night and he could tell by the expression on (Y/n)'s face that she was about ready to leave. They wouldn't be here for much longer.

Circling her arms around Tommy's neck, (Y/n) pressed her chest up against his when he reeled her in closer with his hands clamped down protectively on her hips. A loving warmth spread through her system when he leaned his forehead down to rest against hers and their gazes interlocked.

They didn't dance often, Tommy wasn't a dancer and with his line of work and their busy lives, it didn't leave much time for dancing. (Y/n) could scarcely remember the last time they danced together, let alone in front of others with an audience like this. But she couldn't focus or even notice the other people swaying close by on the dance floor or the onlookers around the large hall. All she could see, feel and her was the man in front of her with a small grace of a smile present on his otherwise stoic face.

(Y/n) didn't know how long they had been dancing for, they had spun in circles, swayed left and right and done a brief twirl before merging back together again.

With her cheek resting on Tommy's shoulder, (Y/n) let her eyes fall closed and pushed further into Tommy's chest like she was trying to find a way into his heart to keep close and safe. She felt his hands move from her hips to circle behind her and his fingers linked together, keeping her caged in his embrace as if he was afraid she was going to disappear.

The unease she had been feeling earlier had melted away but it was now replaced with something else. Her stomach was starting to curl into knots in a way that made (Y/n) unsure if she was going to be sick or not and the room now felt like it was in the middle of a volcano. Heat was rising all around her prickling her sweaty skin and making her feel uncomfortable.

When Tommy spun them round on his heels, even though the action was slow and in time with the music, (Y/n) felt her head turn on its axis and her steps faltered causing her weight to lean into Tommy.

"Everythin' okay?" Tipping his head down, Tommy hovered his lips over the shell of her ear and kissed the spot behind her ear, slowing down until they were barely moving anymore.

"Can we sit down?" (Y/n) moved her hands from behind Tommy's neck so she could scrunch his shirt up in her fists, grounding herself to the feel of him and his heartbeat that thundered peacefully through her skin. The few drinks she'd had so far must have gone straight to her head and interferred with the panic and adrenaline she already felt.

"Course, what's wrong?" Tommy's hand moved to the small of her back as he slowly guided them off the dance floor towards the nearest table where Arthur happened to be sitting.

"I just feel lightheaded, I'm okay."

She felt better when she sat down and the weight was off her legs that had started to tremble. Her elbow leaned on the table and her hand propped up her head that was suddenly too heavy for her neck. Her stomach was still churning and knotting up like a tangled snake inside her but sitting down helped a tiny bit. Tommy's hands on her shoulders and his lips against the back of her head helped the most.

After a few minutes, (Y/n) closed her eyes and pushed her face further into the palm of her hand to surpress a groan as her free arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Wishing her arm was some sort of binder that would press down on the pain and make it go away.

Tommy scanned his eyes around the hall, barely listening to the drabble Arthur was reeling off. He massaged his fingers into (Y/n)'s shoulders and leaned down to press another kiss to the back of her head. But when he felt her body starting to shake beneath him, something sparked to life in his gut and his expression hardened to stone.

Letting go of her shoulders, Tommy walked round and kneeled down on the floor in front of (Y/n)'s legs. His hands moved to rub up and down her thighs over her dress but he could feel his heart shattering in his chest when he looked her over.

She looked worse than she had earlier.

When they arrived she seemed fine, nervous but otherwise fine. Now, Tommy could see her skin wasn't the right colour anymore, her arm was bound around her stomach like she was in pain and her whole body had started to tremble. When he pressed the back of his hand against her temple. he could feel she was starting to burn a temperature.

"I'm taking you home. Now."

They couldn't stay here any longer when Tommy wasn't sure if his wife was going to collapse or start crying out in agony. He had to take her home where he could look after her without the risk of onlookers. Home was where she would be safe and have privacy that they didn't have here.

Tommy didn't know what to do when (Y/n) suddenly doubled over on herself until her head was pressing into her knees and both arms were bound around her stomach like iron bars. His hands moved from her thighs to her upper arms that were still shaking and he pressed his forehead against the top of her head, quietly shushing her when she started to groan.

"Baby, talk to me. What's wrong eh?"

(Y/n) tried to shake her head but it only made her feel dizzy and when she tried to speak, nothing but a croaked gurgle left her lips. She wanted to go home, she wanted Tommy to take her home. Her stomach was now feeling agonising cramps, everything was trembling and her body was on fire.

She wanted Tommy wrapped around her like a blanket, she wanted to feel his comfort and for him to magically take all the pain away but she didn't even know why she was suddenly in so much pain.

She felt fine before they came here.

Carefully, Tommy took (Y/n)'s chin between his fingers and tilted her head up so she could look at him again and it broke his heart to see tears staining her cheeks.

"Baby-"

Whatever he was about to say got stuck at the back of his throat when (Y/n) jerked to the side and threw up on the floor next to him.

Tommy remained perfectly still, his hands frozen on her arms and his jaw slack before he gently moved to rub his hand up and down her back. Something was definitely wrong with his wife for her to be sick and cry in public like this. (Y/n) was always so well composed and if she felt nervous she would tell him and they would go home. But this wasn't nerves, this was something else.

"Let it out, love."

Keeping one hand on her back, Tommy swiped the hankerchief from his top pocket and passed it to her before he kissed her hair and cradled the back of her neck.

When she threw up again, Tommy sighed into her hair and pushed himself up a little higher, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet as his eyes glanced over to Arthur. His brother was in between sitting and standing, unsure what to do or how he could help.

A burning sensation crept up the back of Tommy's throat and dwelled deep down in his chest when he heard murmurs and saw that a small crowd had started to get closer to see what was going on. Why were they gathering round? This wasn't a show or spectacle. (Y/n) wasn't doing this for an audience, she was ill and she didn't need any onlookers gawping at her.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" His voice bellowed throughout the room and seemed to overpower the music that was already fading into the background, overcome by the scene of the Shelby's.

Some people turned their heads, adverted their eyes, others skimped away towards the bar or out of sight so they couldn't be seen gawking anymore. Just a few people stayed gathered round and made a small amount of room for Polly to push her way through and reach her nephew and his wife.

"Tommy..."

Turning his head back from looking through the crowd, Tommy looked back at (Y/n) but he could feel the blood draining down to his feet and his eyes widened in their sockets. Blood was dribbling down her lower lip and making a small slithering trail down her chin.

Gulping, Tommy tried to stop himself from shaking and he took the hankerchief from her hand to gently wipe the blood away, staining the once white fabric with tainted crimson.

"We're taking her to the hospital. Arthur, you can drive, Ada and John will sort out here." Polly patted Tommy's shoulder before she stood up, ordering the boys about with a wave of her hand. There was no way she was waiting here to sort things out when she knew exactly how Tommy was going to react in this situation. He was going to blow up, lose his temper and with a gun strapped to his side, he wasn't safe if he got enraged. Polly needed to go along and keep her nephew calm and under control since (Y/n) was in no fit state to do so on her own.

Wasting no more time, Tommy scooped an arm under (Y/n)'s knees and hooked the other around her back and lifted her up from the chair, praying she wouldn't be sick again or throw up any more blood. He had done this many times, hoisted his wife up into his arms bridal style and carried her wherever they needed to be. Whether it was carrying her over the threshold when they got married, from the sofa up the stairs to bed when she fell asleep waiting up for him in the early hours of the morning. Or carrying her to bed once when she was too drunk to stand, Tommy was used to this and he secretly loved it.

He loved holding (Y/n) like this, having her so close to his heart, in his arms and against him or even when he carried her over his shoulder, it was natural.

But this time it was different. Tommy needed to carry her like this, he needed to hold her and protect her and take her away from prying eyes and get her somewhere safe, quickly. This was to get an escape for her, get her to the car and show everyone here that she was his girl, his lady, his to protect and love and take care of.

Polly opened the doors and Tommy barged through them, digging his fingers into (Y/n)'s flesh, squeezing her dress so tightly against her skin that they almost melted together as he jogged down the steps towards the car. He could feel (Y/n)'s arms tightening around his neck and he knew from the whimpers muffling into his chest that his once white shirt would now be spotted with crimson just like the hankerchief.

It took a great deal of effort for Tommy to climb into the car backwards, shuffle across the seat with (Y/n) still in his arms and then manoeuvre her across his lap so that Polly could squeeze in the back with him as Arthur scrambled into the front.

(Y/n)'s head fell on Tommy's shoulder and her trembling arms coiled away from his neck so she could again scrunch his shirt up in her fists, accidentally popping a button in the process.

She could feel Polly's hand rubbing over her ankles soothingly and Tommy had one arm around her waist and the other hand was pressed against her cheek like a cold compress. It was soothing with how hot her skin felt and his thumb was pressing into her cheekbone, stimulating her to focus on him and stay awake.

If (Y/n) hadn't of heard Polly giving out the orders inside, she would have guessed it was Arthur driving the car. He was too harsh and didn't break fast enough when he went round the corners and he managed to hit almost every pothole and cobble on the road. It made Tommy growl, something that vibrated through (Y/n)'s hands and up into her chest and sent adrenaline sparking in her stomach.

Tommy gulped when the tremours rattling through (Y/n) got worse until she was violently moving back and forth, unable to control it to the point even her eyes were jolting from side to side.

"S'alright love, not long now- hey, you keep looking at me, got it? Keep those eyes on me, you're not allowed to sleep yet."

Tommy's voice was oddly stern, a tone (Y/n) wasn't familiar with him using around her and his words were sharp and cut like razors piercing into her mind. And if his words weren't enough to capture her full attention, she felt his hand move from her cheek to roughly grab her chin between his fingers and thumb. He jerked her head back until she was face to face with him, their noses skimming together and their breaths mingling to the point she was sure he could taste the blood on her lips.

His brows were raised high, his blue eyes were as deep as the sea and pierced her very soul but it was the way his jaw was set and his lips were locked in a straight line that got (Y/n)'s attention the most.

He wasn't having her pass out on him yet.

With a quiet gurgle, (Y/n) nodded her head to show him she understood, that she was listening and trying her hardest to focus on him, despite the fog that was rolling in on her mind.

The car came to an ungodly stop causing (Y/n)'s head to bash into Tommy's and even though he groaned, it was (Y/n) who momentairely blacked out. But when Tommy's hand shook her chin and got rougher when patting her cheek, her senses came back to her and she tried to clear her vision so she could look up at her husband again who was calling her name violently.

Tommy could see (Y/n) was on the verge of passing out when he carried her into the hospital. All he could manage to say was 'help her' on repeat, raising his voice until he was almost screaming, demanding the attention of anyone who would listen so they would come and look at his wife.

He didn't hear whatever Polly murmured to Arthur who disappeared without a word and Tommy didn't care to know. His attention was on his lady and her alone.

"Set her down here, what happened?"

Jogging down a hallway after a doctor and two nurses, Tommy hovered over a small stretcher in the empty corridor and carefully laid (Y/n) down, taking her hands in both of his when she clung to him like glue. He didn't want to let her go, he would rather them assess her while she stayed wrapped up in his arms but he knew that wasn't practical. But the way (Y/n) began to cry when he laid her down shattered his soul.

"I don't know, she was fine until an hour ago. She's burning up and she's been throwing up bad, blood too." Tommy wasn't stupid, he knew whatever was wrong with (Y/n) was due to something happening at that event tonight. She couldn't go from being perfectly healthy at home to then suddenly deteriorating this quickly for no reason at all.

Tommy stood near (Y/n)'s legs, both her hands still tightly held in his fists so she knew he hadn't gone anywhere and he could feel Polly's hands on his shoulders. A small attempt to try and keep him calm when she could feel his resolve quickly slipping away.

They watched in silence and concentration as the doctor checked (Y/n)'s temperature, listened to her heart, peaked inside her mouth before he tried to press his hands on her stomach. One touch sent (Y/n)'s knees coiling up to her stomach and a gut wrenching sob burned past her lips with a few speckles of blood.

"Has she eaten or drank anything?"

"Uh, wine, a few glasses. No food."

"No one else has been ill?" One look at the three of them told the doctor they had been somewhere in public, some event or a show or theatre of some kind. Tommy was in a suit and the two ladies were in dresses with their hair pinned up into elaborate styles.

"No."

"I think she's ingested something-"

"Like what?" Tommy wanted answers and he didn't feel like he had the time to wait for them or let the doctor finish his sentence. He needed (Y/n) to be helped and looked after but he needed to know what was wrong with her. If someone has given her something, Tommy needed the Blinders out there to find who it was and deal with them.

"My guess would be poison..." The rest of his words hit on deaf ears, all Tommy could think of was that someone had managed to get something into (Y/n)'s drink and not his. They went for the one thing that mattered most to Tommy, they didn't even bother to try and harm him as well. Just (Y/n).

When the nurses started to wheel the gurney towards a room, Tommy followed, keeping (Y/n)'s hands in his as tight as he could. Watching in agony when more spurts of blood coughed up through her lips and her eyes started to drift near the back of her head.

Something between shock and pure rage filtered through Tommy's darkening eyes when the doctor's hand pressed firmly into his chest and caused his feet to scuff against the floor when he was stopped in his stride. His hands let go of (Y/n) when the gurney kept moving and it felt as if someone had torn his heart out of his chest and left him watching it leave.

"Mr Shelby, you can wait out here while we stabilise your wife." He knew who they were and he still dared to tell Tommy the one word that wasn't in his vocabulary unless it was (Y/n)- or Polly- saying it.

He couldn't breathe.

They were actually trying to separate him from her, they were keeping them apart when she needed him the most. She needed him there to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay and that he was going to watch over her and make sure she was alright. What was he supposed to do out here? He couldn't sit and count the time and wait for news, not knowing what they were doing to (Y/n) in there. He couldn't do that.

The moment (Y/n)'s weak, choking voice called out his name, something snapped inside Tommy. In that split second his heart stopped and the blood flooded his ears and clouded his vision.

He snapped the gun from his holster and pushed the barell so forcefully against the doctor's temple that a circular indent started to form around the gun.

"I stay with my fucking wife. Move." Tears burned into his face like acid and his mouth became oddly dry as he furiously spat the words through gritted teeth.

He could feel Polly debating what to do, her hands kept moving from his shoulders, down his arms, back to his shoulders and then her chin perched on his shoulder. She wanted to scold him, to shout at him and rage that this was a hospital, these people were here to help (Y/n) and he couldn't threaten them lest he wanted (Y/n) to be thrown out. But all she could do was try and comfort him because she knew Tommy wasn't going to listen and he was wrestling between his temper, his heart and his yearning to be with (Y/n).

The moment the doctor stepped aside, Tommy stuffed the gun back in the holster and ran into the room. He clasped (Y/n)'s hand tighter than he should have and brought it to his lips, kissing her flushed skin to let her know that he was back, he hadn't left her for long. He carded his fingers through her hair, smoothing it away from her face while a nurse busied herself with taking a blood sample.

It was clear that both nurses had seen the interaction with the doctor and they knew who they were treating in here. They were fighting to keep their hands from shaking and they kept looking at Tommy's blazer, fearing at any moment he would take out his gun and unleash his rage on them.

"I'm here, love, I'm still here."

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

A horrid burning sensation flared up the back of (Y/n)'s throat and coupled with the aching fire in the pit of her stomach making her feel like she had swallowed fire and lived to tell the tale. The burning spread through to her mouth that was parched and dry and felt as horrid as her eyes when she tried to open them.

The room she found herself in was small and the sheets beneath her were scratchy like paper and hard as stone.

She didn't recognise where she was when her sore eyes finally focused on what was around her. But what she did recognise, was a head of jet black hair, ruffled to the max and stuck up at all angles like he had been electrocuted.

Tommy.

He was slumped in a chair that was pulled as close to the bed as he could get it. His knees were bent out at the sides, his upper body was slumped over and his head was burrowed into the mattress she was laying on with both his hands clasped around one of hers.

She couldn't find her voice to speak, her throat was torn to ribbons when she tried to make a sound so she settled for moving her free hand and stroke her fingers through his hair. It only took two seconds for Tommy to wake up on full alert, his job made him a light sleeper to the point even the lightest rain drizzling down on the window would wake him up in the dead of night.

The surprise was evident in his crystal eyes but it was the way his lips parted and ever so slightly curved at the sides that made (Y/n)'s stomach jump with relief and excitement.

"Baby, oh love you're awake." For a moment, Tommy pressed his forehead back into the mattress and sent a silent thank you prayer to God and to Polly who he knew had been praying throughout the night and into the morning for this moment.

When he looked back up, Tommy stood to unsteady feet and leaned over to capture (Y/n)'s chapped lips in a breath taking kiss. He stole all the air she had within her lungs and more, swiping his tongue over her lower lip while one hand moved to cradle her neck and chin. They pulled apart when both were gasping for breath but Tommy stayed as close as possible with their noses brushing and their lashes tangling together. He sat down on the side of the bed, allowing a small smile to creep onto his otherwise stern and exhausted features.

"What... w-where-"

"Shh, it's alright," He stole another kiss, a gentle, brief one this time where their lips barely touched, only grazed together making (Y/n) lean up for more. "You're in the hospital, love. Been out for over twelve hours, gave me a fucking fright."

It was (Y/n)'s turn to steal another touch of his lips, nibbling at his lower lip when he leaned closer.

Everything was foggy, her mind was locked away in a cage and she couldn't seem to find out how to open it. She remembered turning up at the charity event, she had wrapped herself around Tommy, refusing to let him leave her side.

Flashes of voices swirled around in her head, shouting, bright lights blurring overhead. The feeling of Tommy's arms around her and his hand on her face, his deep eyes right in front of her but feeling so far away. A bumpy car ride that could have taken hours, she wasn't sure. Everything was mushed together, clips of a movie cut up and stitched back together in the wrong order.

"Some bastard spiked your drink, just yours, there was traces of blood in your blood. Doctor gave you medicine and charcoal to bind it, you'll be okay though. I won't let it happen again I swear it."

Tommy had waited through the night and into the morning as the doctor put (Y/n) on an IV of fluids and antidotes and concentrated charcoal to bind to the poison in her blood and stop it from spreading any further. The fever she had broke around three in the morning and finally, roughly around six in the morning- after Polly had gone home to help clean up the mess left in their wake- Tommy let himself fall asleep. Assured that (Y/n) was resting and not in danger of getting any worse while he slept vigil by her side.

For a few moments, (Y/n) closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling of Tommy's forehead pressing into hers, his hand on her neck and his breaths mixing in with hers.

"Lay with me," Her voice was quiet and she barely croaked out the words loud enough for Tommy to hear, but when they registered, his signature smile that he saved just for her graced his lips.

How could he refuse?

The blazer he had been wearing had been shed sometime in the early morning and he had kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned most of his shirt when he started to sweat and panic. But when he stood up from the bed, he took off the holsters he had kept on him for protection and as a silent warning to any staff member not to get in his way or ask him to leave.

He placed the holster on his vacant spot on the chair and shed his shirt like a second skin before he carefully climbed on the bed and laid on his side, facing (Y/n). His hand moved back to its new spot on her neck, splaying his thumb out over her jaw as he shuffled his other arm beneath her head and neck to keep her close.

(Y/n) reached out to hold onto his arm that was laid over her chest and her fingers danced across his skin, drawing aimless, soothing patterns over his arm while he pressed his lips against the side of her head. Breathing in her scent that was like his personal drug.

He couldn't come close to losing her like that again.

[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 9: an uncommon kindness

word count: 1,875

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You knew it was coming—the sensation you half-heartedly referred to as an adrenaline crash. It could have been the whiskey, but that would have been an excuse, a poorly crafted one at that. The vision of scarlet ribbons stayed at the forefront of your thoughts, severed flesh and the whites of that man's eyes just after that. No matter how many times it happened, it never got any easier. Or maybe it did, but those moments did not come often, and that's how you preferred it.

After finishing your last drink, you quietly left the Garrison without announcing your departure. You heard the faint shouts of your name as the door closed behind you, but the acid that quickly traveled up your throat at the first taste of cold air kept you preoccupied. You stood alone in an alley, hands bearing down against brick, and let your body do what it had to. That part never lasted long, and it was only a matter of time before the tremble would follow.

For that, you blamed the oncoming winter, and if anyone asked, you were just foolish enough to keep your coat undone.

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The silence after the pub emptied lingered, a heavy weight hanging in the air. Arthur and John let the laughter die out, the adrenaline from the confrontation still buzzing in their veins.

Arthur glanced at John, noticing that his eyes kept returning to the spot where you stood with whiskey dripping from your fingers, the flicker of cold anger in your eyes still fresh in his memory. He was trying to make sense of it all, the way you moved so effortlessly, how you took charge in a situation that most people would’ve hesitated to act in.

“Fuckin' hell...” John started, shaking his head slightly. “One slip, and she could've taken my head off.”

Arthur snorted, leaning against the bar with a half-smirk. “She saved you, John boy. How'd that feel?” He paused, eyeing the door where you walked out. “I reckon you're not gonna give her a pretty little cut now.”

John's brows furrowed as he walked behind the bar, pouring himself a drink to steady the nerves that were steadily returning. “Should we tell Tommy? Fuck—Arthur, I swear to God—if she'd waited a second too long, you'd be stitching me up right now.”

“I’ve seen Tommy do that,” Arthur muttered, almost to himself. “He doesn’t waste a second. Just... Brought the hammer down on their heads. She's the same.”

John looked up, his expression unreadable. “She could’ve let it go. Let us handle it.”

A small smile tugged at Arthur's lips. “Not used to a woman who's not Esme being able to take a swing, eh?"

“She’s one of us now, isn’t she?”

Arthur nodded slowly, his face thoughtful. “Looks to be that way. You heard what Tommy said—told him it was 'just business.' And today's business was either to leave you with a hole in your back or to waste her whiskey. Guess that makes you more valuable than whiskey.”

John cleared his throat. It was a crude but accurate comparison. “But you reckon she cares, yeah? About us, I mean. Or is this just business to her? Because of what we found?”

Arthur doesn’t immediately respond. He looked towards the door, his mind clearly elsewhere. “She didn’t do it for anyone but herself. Made one hell of a point by doing it. Thought she was all talk.”

John watched Arthur, his eyes narrowing as he processed everything.

Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze still on the door. “She's smarter than us, John boy. In her eyes, there wasn't ever a debt to be paid to you. Fuck... You probably owe her now.”

John’s expression flickered with a realization.

Arthur’s eyes flash with a sharp, knowing look. “Only thing left to do now is make sure you won't owe her something you can't afford. That's what Tommy's gotta deal with now.”

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After the dust settled the next morning, you returned to the betting house, your breath steady and face as unreadable as ever. Tommy was already speaking with the others, his voice commanding, his attention fully back in control. But it was Polly who lingered near you, studying you in that way only she could.

“You’ve got a habit of making people nervous, you know that?” She stood with her arms crossed, not bothering to spare you the eye contact. “Arthur and John—they’ve been talking. And I’ve been listening.”

You sighed with the same cold demeanor she gave you. “And what exactly have they been saying, Polly?”

She smiled, but it was thin, sharp. “Your little stunt at the Garrison last night is quickly making its rounds. If you were secretly hoping for fame, it looks like you're on your way there.”

Her next question hit you heavy with scrutiny and suspicion. You clenched your jaw, preparing for whatever she might ask you because the last thing you wanted was to be unprepared two days in a row. All this fuss made your actions feel more like a burden than a mindless reflex activated by your awareness, something you usually took pride in. It shouldn't have been a surprise Polly thought otherwise.

“So what exactly are you trying to prove by saving John? Was it for him? Or was it for you?”

You swiftly lit your cigarette, answering into the cupped palm of your hand and the flickering flame. "Does it matter?"

"It's that kind of rash thinking that could get you in trouble," she said, her voice low but firm, "Just ask Tommy. He's had to clean up John and Arthur's messes before, and you adding to that mess was not part of the deal you made."

You didn’t respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air, only shifting slightly as you looked at her. Your voice, cold as always, cut through the silence.

“I didn’t want to wait,” you said simply, your eyes locking with hers.

Polly’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something dangerous crossing her features. “Darling, you’ve got everyone’s attention, and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. You think just because you step in at the right moment that we’ll forget what’s really going on?”

You don’t move an inch as you reply, your voice colder than before. “Have you ever considered that I just do things, or, to you, there must be a motive behind it? That's exhausting, Polly. If you'd rather I give you a reason every time I leave to do fuck all, then eventually, it's all going to be lies.”

Polly studied you for a moment, then took another step forward, her eyes never leaving yours. “Yes, well, I can see it now. Let's say you 'just do things,' then what will happen when you don't? Hm? The next time you choose not to act, will it be your fault or theirs?”

She paused, the air between you both tense.

“I'll say this. Tommy does stupid things that most see as impulse, but he always has a reason. Do what you will—shoot the next man who's made you cross. But you better have a damn good reason for getting blood on our carpet. Being stupid with a reason, I can forgive. Mindless impulse, I cannot.”

You straightened your back. With a subtle roll of your eyes, you hung your head to the side, humming from the small ache in your neck. “Can't you fucking Shelbys say 'thank you' or is it in your nature to interrogate now and give thanks never?”

With a smirk, Polly shook her head and left you alone with smoke trailing behind her.

You swore under your breath. You should've left it alone, let John deal with his own mess. You didn't even know who the man was or why he tried to do what he did, and you didn't bother asking John anything. Your subtle mistakes were slowly catching up to you, and now it was a matter of keeping yourself in check before Tommy assumed like Polly did.

When you looked up from your cigarette, Tommy was slowly approaching you with two glasses in his hands. He handed one to you with his eyes steady in anticipation.

You took a brief sip cautiously.

He didn't speak. He just stood in front of you with his own glass, the silence steadily making you feel uncomfortable. This was the other part of being on his side that was getting to be exhausting—the way he used silence to convince you to say something first.

It mostly bothered you because you knew you did the same thing.

"His name was Leander," Tommy finally spoke. "Old fling of John's wife."

You didn't nod or even show that you acknowledged what he was saying.

"He's alive. His people patched him up. We made sure they left Birmingham. They won't come back."

You set your glass down, crossing your arms with the cigarette between your fingers. "Get on with it."

Tommy chuckled, "With what?"

"I'm getting tired of explaining myself to you. And to Polly. If you're going to ask me why I did it, then do it now instead of calling me back here later."

Tommy lowered his eyes with a smirk. It was fun, seeing you become undone. The back-and-forth between you two was slowly wearing you down. He was so used to people giving up after the first try. You just kept fighting back, and that made it all the more interesting. That was what made games, fun after all. You wouldn't stop, so neither would he.

Curiosity could be satiated, but you made it a challenge. He'd step forward, you'd step back. You made your move, and he'd match you in equal measure. One of you held the knife, and the other held the blade, daring blood to fall just to see who'd pull back first.

He wasn't a fool. There was purpose behind your actions even if you didn't want to admit it. There was no part of your bargain that insinuated you needed to act in any way that forced you out of hiding, and yet you did.

There was a part of you—though you'd rather die than admit it—that was invested. Invested in Tommy, maybe, but it went beyond that. Perhaps, you couldn't help it. It could have been in your nature to be protective of your things, but because you stayed hidden for so long, the only possessions you'd been protective of until this point were sentimental trinkets, the ones that you used to decorate your office.

Now, you were protective of something else. That just meant there was more to lose.

Tommy wouldn't admit it out loud, but what you did forced the slightest change in his perception of you. You could protect yourself should it be necessary. It also hinted that you were fully aware of everything you did—you just held onto those reasons like you did everything else. Tucked away like a secret no one was worthy of.

When he finally grew tired of the silence, Tommy gave you a short nod, as if acknowledging that there was nothing left to be said. You watched him walk away, unable to see the the satisfaction on his face.

[unknowntoyou2205]

Never threaten the Shelby sister 2/2

Info: Tommy never believed his sister when she said she was threatened by his enemies, but when injuries happen, Tommy is quick to make sure y/n knows how much he cares.

Relationship: Tommy Shelby x sister

Part 1

The situation kept replaying in Tommy’s mind. Shooting the man, running to y/n, seeing his sister surrounded by her own blood and Michal leaning over her, begging her to stay with him as he held pressure to the wound, his arm bleeding from the shoulder. Tommy remembered shouting for someone to grab a doctor, and two men running out with a gurney, transferring his sister on it before rushing into the hospital. He remembered trying to get by them to be with his sister while nurses held him back, telling him to sit down and wait till the doctor came out.

Michal managed to get away with a few stitches, and a telling off from Polly about being so careless to try and take down two men when he was on his own. Y/n however, had fared out with serious injuries, and Tommy couldn’t help but blame himself. If he had of believed her than she probably wouldn’t be in this situation. She wouldn’t be lying in the hospital bed with Tommy holding her hand, her family coming in and out to see if there was any change. She was the one who took care of the patients who came an went, she wasn’t meant to be one. Instead, she lay on the bed while Tommy kept his head down, a grip on her hand, refusing to leave her side.

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

“Any change.” Tommy looked up to see his aunt Pol standing at the door.

“No, nothing.” Tommy spoke, dropping his head to look at y/n.

“What did the doctor say?” She asked, moving into the room, and Tommy seen Michal following behind, winching as he jolted his arm as he sat down.

“They managed to get the bullet out but there was a ruptured vessel. They managed to stop it so it’s just a waiting game.” Tommy explained, rubbing y/n’s knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.” Michal spoke up, and Polly shook her head as she looked at her son.

“Don’t blame yourself pet, it wasn’t your fault.” She smiled before turning to Tommy, “It was your idiotic cousins’ fault.”

Tommy looked at Pol to see her piercing glare.

“Yeah, I get it, I messed up, is that what you want to fucking hear?” Tommy snapped, not liking his aunt at him when he knew he had messed up.

“Yeah Tommy, it is. You need to realize that if it wasn’t for you y/n probably wouldn’t be in this situation. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to her. But no, you had to be so high on your horse to believe her didn’t you.” Polly snapped at her nephew, and Michal looked away, not sure where to look. “Who was he anyway?”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s sorted. Won’t get near her again.” Tommy spoke, looking down at y/n and kissing her hand as he ran a finger down her face.

After an hour or so, Polly and Michal left with Polly promising she’d be around tomorrow, and warned Tommy to call if anything changed. Arthur and John had came by and said that they would be outside the door if Tommy needed them, stating that she needed all the protection she could get after the events of the evening, and Tommy agreed, saying that when y/n came through, he would be sure that a peaky blinder was around her 24/7, whether she liked it or not. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her again. He realized just how much leverage his enemies would have over him if they got to y/n. She was his light, and Tommy knew that she was his everything.

That night Tommy refused to sleep. He spent the night sitting in the seat beside y/n’s bed, leaning back and staring into space. Grace had came by to try get him to come home, Charles had been wondering where his daddy was, but Tommy refused, stating that his sister needed him. This lead to an argument between the two, with Grace furious that he would choose his sister over her soon, but Tommy took no mind as his priorities lay with his sister. She was injured because of an error he made, and he wasn’t going to leave until he knew that she was okay.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning when an improvement to y/n’s condition was made. Tommy was knocked out of his thoughts by a slight movement of the hand he had never let go of since he was let into see y/n. Looking down, he could see y/n’s finger moving ever so slightly that he thought that it was his sleep deprived state that was making him feel it. But when he looked up at y/n and seen her head move to the side he knew he wasn’t hallucinating what he wanted to happen, it was in fact happening. In his desire to get y/n to waken up some more, Tommy stood up and leaned over his sister, placing a hand on the top of her head as he brushed back some lose hairs.

Y/n hummed as she felt the cool water hit the back of her throat. Licking her lips, she moved her head away from the cup Tommy had at her lips and winched as she swallowed. Tommy brought his hand back to hers and rubbed it between both his hands as he watched her try to open her eyes. Y/n struggled for a few minutes before finally opening her eyes, shutting them just as quick as she opened them when the light came to view. Blinking, she opened them once again, and Tommy came into her view, a slight smile on his face.

“Hmm, Tommy.” Y/n muttered dryly, smacking her lips together trying to get moisture to them as she kept her eyes closed with tiredness.

“Y/n, can you open your eyes love.” Tommy asked softly, rubbing his thumb around the palm of her hand.

“Water.” Y/n stated, though Tommy struggled to hear it with y/n’s dry throat.

“Here you go.” Tommy stated, quickly moving to the side of the room and filling a small cup with water, bringing it to her lips so she could drink.

Y/n indicated weakly with her hand for Tommy to come towards her and Tommy looked at her before sighing and moving back beside her bed. He took her hand once again and y/n smiled, squeezing it.

“Hey you.” He spoke gently, and y/n smiled slightly.

“Hey.” Y/n replied, moving to get up but gave up upon feeling pain.

"How you feeling love?"

"Like I've been hit by a bullet?" She joked, smile fading as she watched her brothers reaction.

"Y/n I'm so sorry for not believing you when you told me some guy threatened you. I should of trusted you and went to deal with him as soon as you said. But I didn't, and now look where you are." Tommy stated, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Tommy, it's okay." Y/n tried to calm him down.

"No, it's not. And don't play it down like it is. You could of died y/n, and that would of been for my stupidness." Tommy said, standing up forcibly.

"Yeah, and I was beyond hurt that you didn't believe me. But you saved me from a worse faith Tommy. You got him and got help before it was too late. You may not see it but if it wasn't for you turning up when you did I would be very dead right now." Y/n explained to Tommy, and he looked at her with unease. "Come here."

" I thought you'd hate me." Tommy spoke in a small voice, one y/n hadn't heard in a long time.

"We make mistakes Tommy, and we learn from them. Be glad nothing terrible happened, don't overthink what you could of done. I'm here, and I'll hold it against you, but I could never hate you. That's not in my blood. Besides, the rest of the family hate you enough for me." Y/n stated, smiling slightly to ease Tommy's worry. "I love you Tommy, that will never change."

"I love you too." Tommy smiled, kissing y/n's hand, "and from now on someone will be with you at all times."

"Course they will." Y/n muttered before smiling at Tommy, knowing it would make him feel better.

[themultifandomgal]

Hi love, can i request one for peaky blinders? Where y/n is in school with Finn and he knows she’s struggling at home so he asks Tommy and the others if they can get her a job or something to help her out. So maybe she gets to clean at the Garrisons and/or maybe watch John’s kids. One night when he gets home late she stays and help him clean up and maybe something happens. Then he says he doesn’t need any help with the kids anymore. Cause he feels bad dragging her in to that life and taking care of his kids and all. But everytime they meet they can’t keep away from eachother.. they end up together maybe Tommy speaks some sense into John or have a talk with y/ns parents to let her marry John? You can do with this idea what you like? I would love to read it!

John Shelby- Can’t Stay Away

Hey! So I changed it a little because of the ages hope that ok so instead of being in school with Finn YN went to school with John and they stayed good friends.

John and I have been friend since we were 4 years old when we started school. My home life wasn’t always great, my father was an alcoholic and my mother was abusive. Mrs Shelby ended up most evening cooking me meals, making sure I had clean clothes. When she passed away it broke all of us.

After wanting to leave my home, Polly gave me a place to live, but finding a job was very hard so I ended up marrying a man who I didn’t love, but he passed away during the war. Tommy got me a job at the Garrison and after Martha passed away I started helping John look after his kids, which caused me to start catching feelings for him. I’ve been doing this now nearly every other day, picking the kids up from school.

Today was no different. I just put them all to bed when John finally comes home

“Hey” I smile at him “have you eaten anything? There’s left overs….”

“I’m getting married” he blurts out making me stop walking towards the kitchen. I turn around with a frown on my face, my heart feels like it’s been crushed into thousands of tiny pieces 

“Oh” is all I can say

“It’s errr Lizzie. Lizzie Stark”

“What?” Lizzie? The woman who’s slept with all of the Shelby brothers, well all except Finn as he’s like 12

“Yeah so errr I don’t need to to help out anymore”

“Oh. Ok erm well I’ll erm see you round then” not really knowing what to say I give John a small smile “congratulations John. I hope she makes you happy” I quickly grab my coat and leave Johns house before he can see that my eyes are starting to tear up.

Over the next few days YN tries her best to stay away from John, but she just can’t. Not only is that her best friend but she loves him. Tommy being so wise knows how YN feels, but he also knows John also has feelings for his best friend. He’s just being stubborn.

Tommy and his brothers are sat in the snug at the Garrison nursing a whiskey

“She’s gonna change”

“She’s not. I offered her money and she took it”

“Fuck!” John yells running his hands over his face

“But ya know who wouldn’t take the money… YN”

“Tom…”

“Tommys right John. That girl loves you. She has from the day you met”

“But she got married” John frowns at his Aunt who rolls her eyes

“Men… she married because you got married”

“But…”

“Yes you did the right thing, but did you love Martha?”

“Of course I did”

“Like the way you love YN?” Tommy ask

“I….”

“Your a fool if you marry Lizzie” Arthur comments downing his whiskey. Just then there’s a knock on the door and YN walks in

“Hey I’m just about to go, but is there anything else you want before I leave?” YN asks looking around, mainly looking at John

“No thank you love. We’ll see you tomorrow” Polly smiles. YN nods her head and says bye to everyone before walking out. Tommy looks at John who’s staring at the door of the snug. Tommy then looks at the door then back at John

“Bloody hell, go after her!” John quickly gets up and leaves the room as quick as he can. Tommy downs his whiskey “thank fuck for that”.

John runs down the street shouting YN’s name. YN stops and turns round confused to why John is runnin after her. Had she forgotten something?

“John?” but before anything else could be said Johns lips are immediately on YN’s. YN pulls back still feeling confused “why did you do that?”

“Because I’ve finally had some sense knocked into me. I love you YN. I can’t stay away from you. It’s you I want to marry, to help look after my kids and maybe even had kids with… that’s if you’ll let me?”

“What about Lizzie?” YN asks

“I’ll break it off with her, I promise, but…” John then gets down on one knee “will you marry me?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. Of course I will” with that John gets up and spins YN round, kissing her lips. Little did the couple know that Tommy had also left the Garrison hoping to catch a glimpse of the two. He won’t ever tell anyone, but he did smile when he saw his brother and YN happy in each other’s arms finally.

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 15)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

Warnings: Pregnancy complications, anxiety.

Your phone buzzed, and Ash’s name popped up on the screen. “Just saw your message. Calling you now,” the text read.

A moment later, her name appeared again, this time with an incoming call. You quickly answered, trying to steady your voice. “Hey, Ash.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Concern was clear in her voice, though she tried to keep it calm.

Taking a deep breath, you started to explain everything—the frightening moment when you first noticed the bleeding, the rushed trip to the hospital, and the eventual diagnosis of placenta previa. Ash listened closely, offering quiet reassurances, her understanding like a balm. Even though her own pregnancy had been different, she instinctively knew what to say.

“I’m here for you, always,” she assured you. “Do you want me to come visit? I can figure something out with my husband and Liam. You’re gonna need help, whatever the doctors say. Plus, you haven’t even met your nephew yet.”

The thought of her coming to Dublin was comforting, but you hesitated. “I don’t want to mess up your plans, especially with Liam,” you replied, though the idea of her being there was tempting.

“Don’t be daft. You’re my sister. If you need me, I’ll be there,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“I’ll think about it,” you said, still wavering between needing her support and not wanting to cause trouble.

“What about the father? I know you said you weren’t together, but…” Ash’s voice trailed off, the curiosity and concern evident.

You hesitated before telling her. When you finally did, there was a brief pause on the other end, followed by her surprised reaction. “Oh! So that’s why you were being so secretive. Cillian Murphy, huh?”

You sighed, feeling a wave of mixed emotions. “Yeah. We met while I was working on Peaky Blinders last summer.”

“Oh right, I remember you mentioning that gig. Didn’t realize you’d gotten so close with the cast,” she nudged you.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to,” you admitted with a chuckle. “But things happened, and, well, here we are.”

“And are the two of you… together?” Ash asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Not exactly… yes… I mean, I don’t know,” you said with a laugh, feeling the weight of the complicated relationship pressing down on you.

“Well, are you or aren’t you?” she pressed, wanting clarity.

“It’s complicated,” you replied, frustration creeping in as you tried to explain the emotional rollercoaster you’d been on.

You took a deep breath and started to spill everything—how your relationship with Cillian had developed, the moments of deep connection that made you feel loved and cherished, and the doubts that had crept in, leaving you feeling insecure and unsure. You told her how you sometimes wondered if he was ashamed of you or the baby, how that fear gnawed at you, making it hard to fully trust what you had.

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end before Ash spoke again, her voice full of empathy. “From everything you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like he’s ashamed of you or the baby. It sounds like he really cares about you. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you. I mean, he’s really famous, and the press can be brutal. Maybe he’s just shielding you from all that.”

Her words struck a chord, making you reconsider. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Ash affirmed. “And honestly, the way you talk about him… it’s obvious you love him. Maybe you should give him a chance, see where it goes.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.”

Ash’s reassurance lingered in your mind long after the call ended. You couldn’t help but replay your moments with Cillian—the tenderness he showed, the way he’d rushed to your side without hesitation. It was hard to believe that someone who didn’t care would go to such lengths.

Just then, a nurse entered your room, gently pulling you from your thoughts. “Good morning, mummy,” she greeted with a warm smile.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back as you finished the last bites of your hospital breakfast.

The night had been filled with regular check-ups, the medical team carefully monitoring your baby’s heartbeat and your blood pressure. The nurse’s gentle demeanor and reassuring words helped ease some of the tension that had settled over you.

“The bleeding’s reduced significantly,” she said, checking your chart. “You and the baby are doing well.”

Relief washed over you at her words. After she left, you closed your eyes for a quick nap, but your thoughts kept swirling around the conversation with Ash and your uncertain feelings for Cillian.

A soft sound woke you, and you opened your eyes to see Cillian’s silhouette against the light filtering through the curtains. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb you, but when he noticed you were awake, he came closer, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your lips.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the worry lines that had settled there.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, his hand resting gently on yours. “I brought you a change of clothes.” He placed a suitcase on the bed, opening it to reveal your neatly packed belongings. “And lunch,” he added with a smile, handing you a bag of takeout.

The sight of the spicy chicken burrito made your heart skip a beat. Hospital food had been bland, and your cravings had been anything but satisfied. “You remembered!” you exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

“Course I did,” he said, clearly pleased to see you happy.

As you settled into the chair by the window, the comforting aroma of the burrito filled the room. It almost felt normal—like a quiet lunch between two people, not one shared in a hospital room.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your voice full of gratitude as you took your first bite. The flavors were a welcome change.

“Just glad you’re eating,” Cillian replied, watching you closely. His eyes softened as he saw how much you were enjoying the food. “You need to keep your strength up.”

You nodded, appreciating his concern. As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, a nice distraction from the stress and fear that had dominated the past few days. You updated Cillian on what the nurse had said—they wanted to keep you in for a few more days, but everything was looking up.

But even with the light conversation, your sister’s words lingered in your mind. You found yourself wanting to address the uncertainties between you and Cillian.

After a brief pause, you decided to share. “I talked to my sister this morning,” you said, covering your mouth as you finished chewing.

Cillian raised his eyebrows, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. She’s coming over to help me once I’m discharged. The doctors said I need to be on strict bed rest until the next ultrasound.”

“That’s great,” Cillian replied, nodding. “It’ll be good to have her here. I’m sure she’ll cheer you up.” He paused, then added, “But I want to help too. I can take care of you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“The doctor said you need to be on bed rest—no moving around too much. I was thinking… maybe you could stay at mine. I can make sure you’ve got everything you need, and that you won't be alone if anything happens” he suggested, his voice sincere.

The idea touched you, but it also made you hesitate. It felt like a big step, one you weren’t sure you were ready for. plus you didn't want to burden him throughout the day if you could have your sister help you. “I don’t know… I mean, my sister’s coming, and I haven’t even met my nephew yet. He’s nearly a year old.”

Cillian nodded, understanding your hesitation. “I get that. And I’m glad your sister’s coming. But I just want you to know that I’m here too. I want to help, to be there for you and the baby.”

Your sister’s words echoed in your mind—maybe you should give him a chance. You did love him, and he had been nothing but supportive. Maybe this was the right move, not just for you, but for the baby as well.

Taking a deep breath, you looked into his eyes and smiled softly. “Okay… maybe staying with you would be a good idea.”

Cillian’s face lit up with relief and happiness. “I promise, I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on resting and getting better.”

As the days in the hospital dragged on, each one felt like a blur of repetitive tasks—watching TV, trying to catch sleep despite the discomfort of your growing belly, and spending endless hours on your phone. Your backaches had eased a bit, thanks to all the lying down, but finding a comfortable position was still a challenge. The only real highlight of the day was when Cillian arrived, bringing lunch and a much-needed distraction.

He made it a point to visit every afternoon, juggling his work and your care while arranging your prenatal appointments. Despite everything on his plate, he never let on that it was too much. His presence brought comfort, even though it made you more aware of the complicated feelings swirling inside you.

One afternoon, while you were picking at your hospital lunch, your phone buzzed. It was your mom, calling for her weekly check-in. You hesitated for a moment, knowing you couldn’t keep hiding your truth from her. When you finally answered, you decided to be more open.

“I’m in the hospital, Mom. Placenta previa,” you said, cutting straight to the point.

Her concern was immediate, and the conversation that followed was filled with both worry and relief as you reassured her that you and the baby were being closely monitored. You avoided mentioning the complications and kept the details light, just enough to keep her from panicking. When the call ended, you were emotionally drained but relieved to have been honest with her.

When Cillian arrived that evening, carrying a bag of takeout, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“I told my mom about the hospital,” you admitted, playing with the hem of the blanket.

He nodded, understanding. “I’m glad you did. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But it’s done now. They’ll be here when she’s born, at least.”

The next few days were a mix of hope and trepidation. The doctors monitored your bleeding closely, and to your relief, it finally stopped. Dr. Nelly decided it was safe for you to leave the hospital, though strict bed rest was still necessary until your next ultrasound. You were grateful to finally be heading home, but the prospect of strict bed rest weighed heavily on your mind.

As you packed your bag, anticipation and a hint of dread bubbled up. Living with Cillian was a big step, one that you weren’t sure you were fully ready for. Your relationship with him had always been intense, and the thought of being alone with him, day in and day out, felt overwhelming. You sent a quick text to your sister, letting her know that you were ready for her visit. Having her around would help ease the tension and provide a distraction from your emotions.

When the nurse came in with a wheelchair, Cillian helped you into it, his touch gentle yet firm. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of gratitude and anxiety. The next few weeks were going to be a test—a test of your relationship, your patience, and your ability to manage the challenges ahead.

As you settled into the wheelchair, Cillian’s hand rested on your shoulder. “Ready to go home?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, forcing a smile. But inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how the relationship was going to develop once you were living together.

As you left the hospital with Cillian by your side, a mix of relief and anxiety settled over you. The realization that you’d be spending the next few weeks alone with him made your heart race—not just because of your condition, but because you didn’t trust yourself around him. The connection between you was undeniable, and every glance, every touch, seemed to ignite something within you that you knew you couldn’t act on. Dr. Nelly’s strict orders of no sex until further notice echoed in your mind, making you all the more aware of the need for restraint.

Once you were settled in the car, you quickly texted Ash. “Just got discharged. Ready for you to come to Dublin whenever you can. Could really use the company.”

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself. You needed her there, not just for the help, but to keep your mind occupied and distract you from the intense feelings Cillian stirred in you. The last thing you wanted was to complicate things further by giving into temptation, especially when your health was on the line.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog

[copinghex]

Out of the Eden | A.S

Summary: When Arthur makes an unpleasant discovery about his drinking partner he has to make a hard decision. TW: Drug abuse

Arthur waited for a maid to instruct him with a chest crushing feeling, his mouth was dry, craving a drink or a cigarette. At the current moment he couldn't afford any.

Looking at the family picture on the corner table, guilt dragged him down. Y/N weakly smiled, she looked happy and well, a huge contrast with the state he brought her home earlier that morning.

London was a wild place, perhaps even worse than Esme's description, Arthur indulged in it without struggle, already used to the violence and promiscuity, he was doomed, fucked up in the head since childhood, but Y/N wasn't and if she was moribund now, he was the one to blame.

He still remembers the first time she entered the club, curious eyes wandering around as if she knew something was different. Many rumors surrounded the place since the peaky blinders took it from Sabini and she was willing to discover all of them.

Something Arthur was unaware though, was they were once the same, high and wild, drowned into the misery of addiction. However, she had faced the battle of getting clean a long time ago. He swore if he knew that before, he would've stayed away from her, because now she was back to the same problem.

"Mr. Shelby," the maid called.

"Yeah? Where is she? Where 's Y/N?" he quickly asked.

"She's asleep, but her parents-" 

Before she was done speaking, Arthur rushed through the hallways of the house, it wasn't hard to find the angry father and worried mother.

"Where is-" 

"Shhh," the mother interrupted, "she's sleeping," 

"And you'll get out of my house, get the fuck out my daughter's life!" the father completed.

"Get off the way," Arthur tried to push them.

"Get out!" the mum yelled, "Can't you see what you've done?! My daughter was fine, she was about to get into college!" 

Arthur gulped, Y/N never mentioned her plans for the future, "Look, I just want to see her," 

"No," the father forbade, "a man like you is the last thing she needs, you're gonna get her killed!" 

"Alright, step out the fucking way-" 

"Mum?" Y/N's voice made them freeze.

Through the bedroom's door, her sleepy voice called again. The trio switched a tense stare before the mother slightly opened the door.

"Yes, sweetie? Do you need anything?"

"What's all this noise?" she asked, curled up under the blankets.

"Nothing you should worry about, go back to sleep, alright?" 

Before she could close the door again, Y/N's attentive eyes reached his figure, "Arthur?" 

"Yeah, I'm- I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he explained.

"He was on his way out," the dad completed.

"No," she quickly denied, "I want to talk to him, come in, Artie,"

"Y/N," the mother warned.

"Please, mum? He was kind enough to wait until I wake up," 

With a defeated sight, the parents allowed Arthur to enter the bedroom. The door closed behind his back and he tensed up, fearing his awkward ways made her change her mind about him.

"Come here," she shrunk her legs to give him space at the edge of the bed.

"Uhm, what the hell was that yesterday, Y/N?" he sat down.

"I'm not sure, I probably just had one too many and my body powered off," she dismissed the subject as if it was nothing, "my parents will always make a big deal out of it, don't mind them," 

"You looked fucking terrible, I almost called you a doctor," 

"A doctor in a club? Don't be ridiculous, Arthur," boldly smiling, she laid her head on his lap, making herself comfortable in the spot. Arthur lifted his hands in surprise, unsure of how to proceed.

Slowly, he rested one hand on the mattress as the other remained still, observing her from close, Arthur realized under the layers of make-up her skin looked soft and her eyelids shook slightly, these details always went unnoticed with the club's poor lighting. 

Enchanted by the view, he petted her hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. This was the first time they saw each other outside a club and he was mesmerized by how beautiful she looked without the heavy party outfit.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered without opening her eyes.

"Yeah?" 

"Uhm-uhm," she agreed.

Arthur hesitated, he knew it'd ruin the moment, but he just had to ask, "Why didn't you tell me you were sober?" 

"Why does it matter?" 

"'Cause now you're not, love, must be a fucking struggle to quit," he explained and she didn't answer, "Uhm?" 

"Well, I guess it's because it gets tiring," 

"What does?" 

"How long can you go sober?" 

"...I don't know,"

"See? Every day is a struggle, you'll have to restrain yourself for the rest of your life and I was tired, tired of fighting what I wanted the most," she opened her eyes, "then there was you, I didn't feel guilty for relapsing when I was with you," 

Arthur watched her delicate head in his lap with messy thoughts on his own. She found relief in his presence, but for all the wrong reasons, he knew he'd drag her down if they kept meeting.

"Uhm, and what about college?" he drawled.

"I don't know anymore," she answered, "I don't want to stay away from you,"

"Oh, an university degree is worth much more than me, better believe it," 

"I know, but that's my choice, right?" 

Tensing up, he positively nodded even if he disagreed. He wouldn't let himself ruin the only good thing that happened in his life lately, he couldn't, even if it broke his heart. The first time they saw each other out of a club would also be the last.

[snowflakeanimelover]

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: (Y/N) Rose has no choice but to explain her purpose of lying to the Shelby family. More questions are made than answered, and Thomas Shelby has to think quickly on what he wants to do with Rose.

Warnings: Cussing, swearing, typical Peaky Blinders violence, readers true self is revealed, Relationships end and begin

Notes: Sorry if it’s a bit odd. I’m really trying to get Thomas’ personality down, and trying to copy their speech mannerisms and how they talk.

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Chapter 2: The Interrogation

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The air was tense as the Shelby brothers stared at the woman before them. Confusion and anger took over their expressions, but Tommy kept his stoic demeanor. All three boys held their guns tightly, pointing the barrels right at Rose.

”What the fuck is happening, eh?!” Arthur shouts, feeling panicked but trying to maintain composure.

The call of her name leaves Thomas’ lips, grabbing her attention just by a little. He’s in disbelief, confused about seeing the woman he knows to work in the bidding shop for a few months now killing a man. Never had he seen her like that, and never has he seen her look so different.

The sounds of guns cocking and being taken out reverberated in the air as women in the same style of clothing surrounded them, pointing their weapons at the Shelby’s. They are outnumbered.

A woman approaches Rose, standing beside her as she holds her hat and trench coat. Rose shrugs on her coat, and sets the hat on her head as she smiles. “Now, now,” she mutters, sticking a toothpick in her mouth to chew on, “I don’t want to fight.”

Rose looks up, observing the boys before her. Her eyes soon meet Thomas’ and she can tell he’s angry. He feels betrayed. “Let’s talk, yeah?” She offers, looking relaxed and confident.

“Shut the fuck up!” John takes a threatening step forward, his hold on his gun steady. “What the fuck is this, eh? You’ve been lying to us this whole time?!”

His words are cut short when Thomas rests a hand on his arm, slowly lowering his gun. “That’s enough,” he demands, tone stern to his brothers. “Lower your weapons.”

”Tommy,” Arthur tries, refusing to lower his gun.

”I said lower your gun!” Tommy yells out at Arthur, frustration boiling in his system. “We’re outnumbered.” Arthur soon realizes that, eventually lowering his weapon.

Rose smiles, her hands shoved in her trouser pockets. “Very good. I knew you were smart, Mr. Shelby,” she says, nodding to Thomas.

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In the sunlight, dust danced in the air of the cold room, illuminated by a window. Rose and the Shelby brothers sat at a small table in an empty warehouse. She was on one side, with the brothers on the other. Some of her girls stood around the room, guarding and protecting.

Rose leans back in her chair, smiling as she observes the faces of the big bad wolves. “Well?” She starts, motioning towards them to start, “Shall we start with questions?”

Arthur and John knew to leave it to Thomas to ask the questions. After all, it’s his business. Although they fidgeted, ready to fight and protect themselves if needed, they sat, staying silent. Thomas readjusts himself in his chair, taking his time as he pulls out a cigarette to smoke. After he puffs out the first round of smoke, he turns to Rose. “Rose, was it?”

Rose nods, “That’s right. My last name, that is. What I’m known for,” she adds.

“What else did you lie about?” He asks quickly. She looks at him for a moment, studying his expression. It’s stoic, as always. She has noticed, over the months of observing the Shelby’s, he doesn't like to show his emotions. “Where you came from? What you did for a living?” Thomas continues.

Rose huffs a small laugh, “Where I lived before here? No. What I did before the betting shop?” She pauses, looking up at the ceiling to think, “that one was partially a lie. I was a farmer girl, just not anytime recently.”

Thomas doesn’t ask anymore questions, his eyes narrowing at her in judgment as he thinks. Rose then leans forward, sighing as she gets down to business. “We can talk about me all you want later, yeah?” She starts, resting her arms on the table, “You see, Mr. Shelby, I’m not here to pick a fight, start a war, or be your enemy.”

”Then what are you here for?” John pipes up, clearly itching to get some words in.

“I want to be your ally,” she answers.

“Ally?” Arthur scoffs. “You really think we’d let you be our ally after lying to us about every fucking thing?” Rose knows him to be the hot headed one out of all of the brothers. The oldest is itching to shoot her in the head, she can tell. But the thought of that doesn't faze her.

Thomas stays calm, continuing to smoke as he ponders the situation. Rose continues to explain, "I make sure my allies are reliable, people I can trust. Like everyone else. But I ensure my allies are good by doing more than what others do."

Rose leaned back a little, raising her arm to wave at someone who stood to the side. One of her girls stepped forward, giving her a file of some sorts. “You see, I lied so I could be on the inside of your organization. I wanted to see what you were capable of, what you deal with, and how you do things.” She flipped open the file, looking through the papers in it. “And what I’ve noticed, Mr. Shelby, is that you’re good. You’re honest, keep things in order. You’re smart, capable of a lot.”

Rose turned the file around and slid it over to Thomas for him to look at. "These are the major gangs and families that you are either allied with or doing business with, right? I've noticed that you're having trouble with some of them."

Thomas leans forward and picks up the file, examining it with his blue irises and glancing her way in question.

"You can trust me, Mr. Shelby," she says with a confident smile, leaning back in her seat. "I can help you with your business, guide you in finding the right allies, and ultimately contribute to making you successful."

Silence soon takes over the room. She observes their faces once more, both John and Arthur looking over Thomas’ shoulders to look at the file. Their expressions were in disbelief, yet unable to believe everything she told her. Thomas doesn't seem to want to respond right away, his mind spiraling on what to do.

Rose eventually sighs, standing up from her seat when she realizes he needed time. “I’ll give you a few days to think about this,” she states, “When you decide, my girls are around. Ask them questions if you’d like.”

She suddenly stops before leaving through the door held open by one of her members, “Oh, and I’ll send my right hand woman on the third day, see what you decide.” With that, she leaves, all of the women in the room following close behind. The door shuts loudly behind them, leaving the Shelby brothers alone in the room.

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The Shelbys were not to be messed with. They were the founders of the Peaky Blinders gang from Birmingham, England, operating in the Small Heath area. Anyone who betrayed them or tried to take them down never stood a chance.

The Shelbys have endured war, hardships, and pain. They grew up poor but slowly gained prominence in the city, becoming powerful and relatively wealthy. While they have money now, it's not as much as they desire, and not enough to make them comfortable.

The Shelbys always seem to face tough times, but they consistently manage to overcome every challenge that comes their way.

The laugh that escapes from Arthur's lips is undeniably one of amusement. Did that woman really think she could convince them? He thought this whole situation was just a joke. It was so ridiculous that he was certain his brother wouldn't fall for such words from a woman like that. However, when he turns to Thomas to see if he was laughing along with him...

He wasn’t.

John looked worried as he watched his brother Thomas staring at the file in his hands, the cigarette in his hand long forgotten. Arthur’s laugh slowly faded, along with his amused smile. “You can’t be fucking serious, Tommy,” he muttered.

Thomas doesn't respond, staring at the words and pictures on the file.

“She’s a fucking lying whore!” Arthur shouts.

”A good one, at that,” John comments slowly, fidgeting with his hat in his hands.

Thomas suddenly clears his throat as he tosses the cigarette somewhere in the room and stands up from his seat. The file in his hands lands on the table in front of John. "Burn it," Thomas orders, walking towards the door.

"Tommy!" Arthur calls after Tommy in annoyance as he leaves the room, giving John a nervous glance before storming out.

John gazed quietly at the file. After a long minute, he picked it up, slowly stood out of his seat, and followed the instructions given to him.

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The low murmur of activity in the main room leaked through the walls into her office, creating a distant but constant background noise. In the midst of this, Rose sat at her desk, cradling a warm cup of tea in one hand while the other propped up her chin. Her gaze was fixed on nothingness, lost in deep contemplation of the recent events.

The woman standing next to her, her right hand man, had noticed her boss had been like this for a better half of an hour. Daisy couldn’t help but to glance at Rose here and there, seeing if she was even alive. She was in such deep thought, it almost looked dangerous.

Daisy takes the courage to clear her throat, rocking on her heels as she stands there. “Was it really a good idea to pick them?” She finally asks.

Another long minute passes, making Daisy worried to think her boss was actually dead. However, Rose takes a deep breath and slowly sips on her tea, before setting it town to reply. “Do you not trust them?”

Although Rose wasn’t looking at her, Daisy glances away, observing the many books on the shelves lined alongside the wall. “I only trust you, Miss Rose.”

Rose smiles in amusement, nodding her head. Daisy has always kept to that saying for as long as she has known her. “Thomas is a good man.” She hums as she shuffles in her seat, leaning forward to get back to work.

”Not the Shelby’s?” Daisy perks up, “Just Thomas?”

”Arthur is a hot-headed man who refuses to let go of war and can be quite reckless,” Rose starts, her hands shuffling over her desk to look for a pen, “John is reckless, as well, but is loyal to his kids, wife, and family. Finn is a teen boy who just follows his brothers. Ada wants nothing to do with the Shelby name.”

”And Thomas? Well, he’s far different than his whole family combined.”

Daisy nods. She has always known Rose to be smart and very observant. Just by being a simple counter in the Shelby’s Betting Shop for a few months, she has learned all of that about the Shelby family without hardly ever speaking to them.

“So you like him?” The right hand woman concludes, a small smile gracing her features.

”I’d watch your mouth if I were you,” Rose says sternly, but she, too, had a small smile on her face.

Daisy smirks, biting her lip to hold in her giggle. “Yes, Ma’am.”

[murderousginger]

Queen of Hearts Part 2

Alfie Solomons/ Peaky Blinders

Part 1

Word count: 1,542

Warnings: They're criminals, guys, they do bad things. This is rather tame, however.

John's face flashed uncertainty as he looked to his brother and then back at the girl.

“Whatever you call yourself,” Tommy said. “Where is your king? Take us to hell.”

Her eyes shone as she swiftly grabbed John's hand, dragging him through a parting crowd to the table in the back. Oliver was already standing beside the booth Alfie was sitting in. Alfie's brows darkened his eyes and his fingers laced in front of him.

She threw John's arm toward the booth seat as she took her place beside Alfie. John looked back at his brothers.

“Right, so how about the ringleader sit in the booth, then,” Alfie said, his eyes never leaving Tommy. “It seems my lovely wife caught a foot soldier.”

Tommy stood up and made his way to the booth, holding eye contact as he sat down. Arthur and John stood across from Oliver, all three shifting between stoic faces and uneasy glances to their bosses.

“What are you doing in my pub, mate?” Alfie asked. “You brothers looking for trouble on such a nice night has me on edge, yeah, because, you see, I'd hate to spill blood in front of my wife. Her dress is too pretty to stain.”

“Simple mistake is all,” Tommy said. “We weren't aware you had a pub, Mr. Solomons. From all accounts, you don't drink.”

“You don't have to commit the sin to allow others to do it, mate,” Alfie said.

“Is that how you see it?” Tommy said with a pause. “It's a bit early, but I have a proposition now I'm in front of you. We have similar interests we could discuss.”

“My, that one's ambitious,” she bared her teeth somewhere between a threat and a grin. “Why should we listen to a Birmingham boy?”

Tommy looked at her with his bright blue eyes. She looked at him back, holding the shudder she felt under his cold gaze.

“Do you always send your wife to whore on your behalf?” Tommy said, earning a muffled chuckle from his brothers. Oliver paled.

Arthur and John both looked down at their crossed hands as they tried to stifle their laughter. Alfie tensed beside her.

“Alfie does not send me,” she said. “I am free.”

Tommy clicked his jaw before moving his eyes to Alfie, completely dismissing her.

“Right,” he said. “Do you always allow your wife to whore on your behalf?”

Alfie slammed a hand down on the table, making everyone jump at the loud noise.

“Call my wife a whore one more time, Shelby,” he said calmly as he lifted his hand to inspect the gold rings adorning his fingers. “And I'll gut your entire family in front of you while you bleed out to death, slow like.”

Tommy paused in place, the only person not to flinch at Alfie's quick movement, and took a shallow breath. The entire bar began to move as one to leave. No one wanted to be a witness if Alfie lost his cool.

“Good night, boys!” She called out cheerfully as the bar emptied. “See you in the morning!”

“The only reason you still have all your brothers breathing is because my beautiful, smart wife stopped his advances before he kissed her,” Alfie said as he straightened a ring and brought his hands together in front of him again, his eyes returning to Tommy with a renewed sharpness. “So mayhaps you'd thank the good lady for her discretion.”

“I'd like to take Sabini's place,” Tommy trudged on. “I think you'd agree we could partner well without him.”

“Bit forward,” Alfie sniffed. “I like a nice wine before a fuck, mate. And none of that was an apology.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and looked at his hands before turning his gaze to her.

“I apologize for calling you a whore,” he said dismissively. “Next time I'll think it.”

“Your thoughts are your own, Mr. Shelby,” she said coldly. “Birmingham riff-raff would consider every woman a whore. Women of a certain level know how to use what's available to get what they want. Although you wouldn't know women like that, would you?”

“Everyone's a whore,” Tommy said before looking to Alfie. “What's your price to let me in London?”

“What do you have to offer?” She asked.

“I'm talking to Mr. Solomons,” Tommy said, slowly getting agitated. “Shouldn't you sit and look pretty?”

“Is that what Polly does, Shelby?” Alfie asked. “Look pretty?”

All three Shelbys grew still.

“I think not, by accounts,”Alfie said. “From what I hear, she's fucking second in charge. She ran things while you boys were trying to blow off body parts, yeah? So stop with the women are to be seen and not heard bit, yeah, because we all know you don't subscribe to it.”

“It's fine, love,” she smiled as she patted his shoulder. “Mr. Shelby wants a private conversation with you. I'll simply take Ollie and the boys for a drink. They're better company anyhow.”

She stood up and smiled at the two Shelby men before hooking an arm around each and nodding to Ollie.

“Come on, then, boys,” she chirped. “Let's leave the dull business to the big dogs.”

She tugged on John and Arthur until they moved with her, Ollie silently following behind.

“The best thing about owning a bar,” she said as she pushed them all to the counter, “is the free drinks. Keep them coming, Sal.”

“Yes, Mrs. Solomons.”

The bartender poured the shots and waited at the end of the bar, seeing as there were now no more customers to wait on. She sipped her shot, looking between John and Arthur. Behind them, Alfie and Tommy were talking in low voices.

“What makes you want to come to London, anyhow?” She asked. “Did you outgrow your pond, little fishies?”

Arthur took his shot of rum in one go, and cleared his throat.

“Our Tommy has plans,” he said. “Always a bit ambitious.”

“And you two?” She asked before finishing her drink. “Along for the ride?”

“Best to keep things family,” John answered. “Blood holds bonds paychecks can't.”

She hummed.

“Depends on the blood,” she said as she raised a new drink to his glass before downing it.

“So was I right, then?” John asked, emboldened. “Are you some rich man's daughter that ran to shadows to prove a point?”

“I ran to shadows because the shadows never chained me down,” she said. “High society is duty and someone else's honor when you are a woman. The shadows only ever asked me to be honest, not virtuous or restrained. I know who I am. Do you?”

“High society won't let people like us forget it,” Arthur murmured as he took another drink. “The shadows might deliver freedom, love, but society gives you comforts that shadows can't.”

“A gilded cage is still a cage,” she sneered.

“You sure you didn't trade one pretty cage for another, pet?” John chimed in.

“Would your wife find her marriage a cage, John, or is that just you and your wandering eye to call it that?”

John pursed his lips.

“Right,” Alfie said loudly before he got up from the booth and gestured To his wife. “Love, let's walk the good Shelbys out so Sal can breathe again. He's a bit green looking, innit? Let's let the man breathe.”

Tommy stood up as she returned to Alfie's side, her arm wrapped around his.

“Lovely to meet you boys,” she smiled as Alfie attempted a smile, only it looked more like a grimace.

“Right right, get out now,” Alfie said as he ushered them toward the door.

They all went in silence until Alfie's chuckle broke through.

Everyone stood outside of the bar, light threatening to pierce the horizon.

“Do you ever realize you run things like you fought in the war, mate?” Alfie leaned back, putting his arm around his wife. “Did you notice, love? He fucking runs business like he ran the tunnels. All sneaky like. In the shadows. Plans laid out.”

Tommy extended his hand to shake Alfie's, waiting for only a short moment before Alfie's hand crashed into his.

“And how do you run business, Mr. Solomon?” He asked while shaking his hand.

Alfie's grip tightened on Tommy's as his eyes gleamed in amusement and he pulled him forward.

“Just like the war,” Alfie said. “Just like the fucking war. See, I was a soldier. One in the frontlines. I ran into the enemy. Smashed them. Beat them with my gun when they got too close. Broke the lines until they got scared and ran. And then I'd chase them down and kill them anyway.”

“Have a good day, gentlemen,” she said, breaking the men's handshake to hold her husband's hand. “Lovely to meet you, Arthur and John.”

“G'night, ma'am,” Arthur and John murmured as Alfie and his wife turned their backs on the Shelbys to walk away. Ollie hesitated for a moment before trailing behind.

“Oh, and John?” She said over her shoulder as they walked into the light of the breaking sun. “Do enjoy your pretty wife, eh?”

“I'll be sure to enjoy mine,” Alfie called out as he spun her on the cobblestone before bringing her back to his side, her giggles piercing the air.

[birdaquarius]

Train Wreck

Summary: Isaiah Jesus anxiously awaits his next match. Minutes before the fight, he discovers his coach, Tommy Shelby, has betrayed him. This revelation shatters Isaiah's trust and triggers a severe panic attack. As the betrayal sinks in, Isaiah's mind spirals into paranoia. He begins to suspect everyone around him, convinced they're all conspiring against his success. Even his girlfriend, who happens to be Tommy's daughter, falls under his suspicion.

P.S: I named Tommy's daughter Aelin but her name's optimal, you can name her whatever you want while read the story!

This one is for @novashelby as she's been nothing but extra supportive of me and my writing lately. I hope you and other Peaky Blinders fans will appreciate this one short which is, different from some I've seen on this site. Word Count: 2k. Pairings: Isaiah Jesus/Thomas Shelby's Daughter, mention of Isaiah Jesus/Thomas Shelby. Warnings: This story contains a scene depicting a panic attack.

Isaiah Jesus paced back and forth in the dressing room, his boxing gloves hanging loosely around his neck. The muffled roar of the crowd filtered through the thin walls, a constant reminder of what awaited him beyond the door. But it wasn't the impending fight that had his heart racing and his palms sweating. No, it was the betrayal that burned in his chest, threatening to consume him whole.

Tommy Shelby, the man he'd trusted with his life and career for the past five years, had sold him out. The news had come just hours before the match, delivered by a sympathetic referee who'd overheard Tommy discussing the fix with Isaiah's opponent. The words still echoed in Isaiah's head: "Take him down in the fourth. Make it look good, but don't let him last past the fifth."

Isaiah's fists clenched involuntarily, the leather of his gloves creaking. How could Tommy do this to him? After all the early mornings, the grueling training sessions, the blood and sweat they'd shed together. Was it all for nothing?

A soft knock on the door startled Isaiah from his spiraling thoughts. "Isaiah?" a gentle voice called. "Can I come in?"

He recognized the voice immediately – Aelin, his girlfriend of two years. The daughter of Tommy Shelby. The thought made his stomach churn.

"Yeah," he managed to croak out, his throat suddenly dry.

The door creaked open, and Aelin slipped inside. Her gaze widened as she took in Isaiah's disheveled appearance – his sweat-soaked undershirt, his trembling hands, the wild look in his eyes.

"Oh, Isaiah," she breathed, rushing to his side. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

Isaiah barked out a harsh laugh. "What's wrong? Everything's wrong, Aelin. Your father – your father sold me out."

Aelin's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"He fixed the fight," Isaiah spat, resuming his frantic pacing. "Told my opponent to take me down by the fifth round. Can you believe it? After everything we've been through, he's throwing me to the wolves."

Aelin's face paled. "No, that can't be true. There must be some mistake."

"There's no mistake," Isaiah said, his voice rising. "I heard it from John. He overheard your father talking to Arthur in the hallway."

"But... but why would he do that?" Aelin asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Isaiah whirled to face her, his eyes blazing. "Why? Because he never believed in me, that's why. He probably thought I'd lose anyway, so he might as well make some money off it."

"That's not true," Aelin protested weakly. "He's always believed in you. We both have."

But Isaiah was beyond reason now. His chest felt tight, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The room seemed to spin around him, the walls closing in. "Have you?" he demanded. "Or have you been in on it too?"

Aelin recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "What? Isaiah, how can you say that?"

"How can I not?" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You're his daughter. You've probably known all along that I was never good enough. That I was just some poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, trying to play at being a real boxer."

"Isaiah, please," Aelin begged, reaching for him. "You're not thinking straight. You need to calm down."

But her words only fueled the fire raging inside him. Isaiah stumbled backwards, away from her outstretched hand. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision.

"Don't touch me," he gasped. "I can't... I can't breathe."

Aelin's face contorted with worry. "Isaiah, you're having a panic attack. Please, sit down. Take deep breaths."

But Isaiah couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears. His legs gave out, and he slumped to the floor, back pressed against the cold stone wall. His chest heaved as he struggled for air, each breath a desperate battle.

Aelin knelt beside him, her voice soothing despite the fear in her eyes. "It's okay, Isaiah. You're okay. Just breathe with me, alright? In... and out. In... and out."

For a moment, Isaiah tried to match her rhythm, but then another wave of panic washed over him. "I can't do this," he choked out. "I can't go out there. They're all waiting for me to fail."

"No one wants you to fail," Aelin insisted, but Isaiah shook his head violently.

"Everyone does," he said, his voice rising to a near-hysterical pitch. "Your father, my opponent, the crowd – they're all betting against me. And you... you probably want me to lose too, don't you?"

Aelin's eyes filled with tears. "Isaiah, no. How could you think that?"

But Isaiah was too far gone, lost in a swirling vortex of fear and betrayal. He could see it all so clearly now – how everyone had been working against him from the start. His opponents, rigging their matches. The referees, turning a blind eye to fouls. Even the crowd, their cheers nothing more than mockery.

And at the center of it all, Tommy Shelby. The man who'd promised to make him a champion, who'd sworn to always have his back. How long had he been planning this betrayal? Had it been from the very beginning?

Isaiah's gaze settled on Aelin, her face blurred through his tears. She was still talking, still trying to calm him down, but he couldn't make out the words. All he could see was her resemblance to her father – the same eyes, the same determined set of her jaw.

"You're just like him," Isaiah whispered, his voice hoarse. "You've been lying to me all along, haven't you?"

Aelin's face crumpled. "Isaiah, please. You know that's not true. I love you."

But her words only twisted the knife deeper. Love? How could she claim to love him when she'd stood by and watched her father destroy everything he'd worked for?

"Get out," Isaiah said, his voice flat and lifeless.

"What?" Aelin asked, confusion and hurt warring on her face.

"I said get out!" Isaiah roared, surging to his feet. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness through him, but he pushed through it, stumbling towards the door. "Leave me alone. I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here."

Aelin stood slowly, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Okay, Isaiah. If that's what you want. But please, try to calm down. The fight starts in twenty minutes. You need to get yourself together."

Isaiah let out a bitter laugh. "The fight? You think I care about the fight? It's all a lie, Aelin. Everything's a lie."

Aelin hesitated at the door, her hand on the knob. "Isaiah, I know you're upset. But you've worked so hard for this. Don't throw it all away because of what you think my father did."

"What I think he did?" Isaiah repeated incredulously. "I know what he did. And I know you're probably in on it too. Now get out!"

With one last, pained look, Aelin slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Isaiah's legs gave out again. He slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. His chest still felt tight, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But now, instead of panic, a cold, empty feeling spread through him.

He was alone. Truly, completely alone.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, and a sob tore from his throat. All those years of training, of sacrifice, of pushing himself to the absolute limit – what had it all been for? To be betrayed by the people he trusted most?

Isaiah's mind raced, replaying every interaction he'd had with Tommy and Aelin over the past five years. Had there been signs he'd missed? Moments where their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes, or their encouragement rang hollow?

He thought of all the times Tommy had pushed him to train harder, to fight smarter. Had that all been part of the long con? Building him up just to watch him fall?

And Aelin... sweet, supportive Aelin. The woman he'd thought he'd spend the rest of his life with. Had she known all along what her father was planning? Had she been laughing at him behind his back, mocking the poor boy who thought he could be something more?

The more Isaiah thought about it, the more certain he became. It wasn't just Tommy and Aelin – it was everyone. His opponents, letting him win just enough to keep him going. The other boxers at the gym, pretending to be his friends while secretly hoping for his downfall. Even the crowd outside, their cheers nothing more than a cruel joke.

Isaiah's breath came faster as the realization sank in. He'd been a fool, a puppet dancing on strings he couldn't even see. And now, just when he thought he was about to make it big, they were cutting those strings and leaving him to fall.

A knock on the door jolted Isaiah from his spiraling thoughts. "Five minutes, Jesus!" a gruff voice called.

Five minutes. In five minutes, he was supposed to step into that ring and face an opponent who knew exactly how this fight was going to end. An opponent who was probably laughing at him right now, secure in the knowledge that Isaiah's own coach had sold him out.

Isaiah's stomach churned, and for a moment, he thought he might be sick. How was he supposed to fight when he knew it was all rigged against him? How could he step into that ring knowing that everyone – even the woman he loved – was waiting for him to fail?

He staggered to his feet, swaying slightly as another wave of dizziness washed over him. His reflection in the small, grimy mirror caught his eye, and he barely recognized the man staring back at him. Pale, sweating, with wild eyes and trembling hands – was this what a champion looked like?

No, Isaiah realized with a sinking feeling. This was what a beaten man looked like. A man who'd already lost before he'd even stepped into the ring.

For a moment, he considered running. Just grabbing his things and slipping out the back door. Let them all wonder what had happened to Isaiah Jesus, the up-and-coming boxer who'd disappeared on the night of his big fight.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, Isaiah knew he couldn't do it. Not because of any misplaced sense of loyalty or obligation – those had been shattered beyond repair. No, he couldn't run because if he did, they would win. Tommy, Aelin, his opponent, all of them – they would get exactly what they wanted.

Isaiah's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms even through the padding of his gloves. No, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He would step into that ring, and he would fight. Not for glory or for victory – those dreams had turned to ash. He would fight to prove them all wrong. To show them that Isaiah Jesus wasn't a puppet to be manipulated or a joke to be laughed at.

He would fight because it was all he had left.

With trembling hands, Isaiah adjusted his gloves and took a deep, shuddering breath. His chest still felt tight, his heart racing, but he pushed the panic down, burying it beneath a cold, hard anger.

Let them try to take him down in the fourth round. Let them think they had him all figured out. Isaiah would show them all what happened when you backed a man into a corner and left him with nothing to lose.

As the door swung open and the roar of the crowd washed over him, Isaiah stepped forward. His legs felt like lead, his stomach a churning mess of acid and fear. But his jaw was set, his eyes blazing with a fierce, desperate determination.

They wanted to see Isaiah Jesus fall? Fine. But he'd make damn sure they remembered his name long after the final bell had rung.

[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 23: careful and quiet sentiment

word count: 2,130 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass | @strangeobsessed

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Arthur delivered Bingham's ominous message with a fire in his eyes that spread towards all of the Blinders. All at once, Tommy shut down, his attention torn between maintaining order and keeping you safe.

It wasn't a particularly kind conversation. He insisted that you stay at Arrow House with Finn at your side. It wasn't the first time you and Tommy had a spat, but he was aggressive this time. That being said, his anger did little to stop you.

You approached the ruins of the bookshop with Finn at your side. He kept glancing over his shoulder, the paranoid thought that Tommy would find out at any moment weighing down on his chest. The remnants of the building loomed like a shadow of its former self, the air still faintly tinged with smoke. Finn hesitated a few steps behind you, glancing nervously once more.

“I don’t like this, y/n,” he muttered, his voice low but insistent. “Tommy said to stay at Arrow House. You know if he finds out—”

You stopped, turning to face him. You were calm, but there was a sharpness in your eyes, urgent and mildly desperate. “I told you, Finn. I'll only be a moment. Tommy won't know we left.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Yeah, but Tommy’s not exactly the forgiving type when people go running off on their own. Especially not us. What’s so important it couldn’t wait?”

Your gaze shifted back toward the ruins. “Something personal,” you sighed, brushing past him as you stepped into the remains of the shop. “Stay here. I won't be long.”

Finn’s frown deepened, but he didn't argue. He leaned against what was left of the doorway, keeping a lookout as his foot tapped anxiously against the cracked pavement.

You told yourself this was a necessary task. This would be the last time you'd go against logic and act on your wishes. Every step you took, you were reminded of how Tommy might react—something you never thought you'd ever care about, and yet here you were, thinking about him anyway.

You picked your way through the debris, your heart pounding with a mix of determination and dread. The memories of the place threatened to overwhelm you, but you focused on one thought: the engagement ring you left in your office, the last item of sentiment that Finn and others never found. The ring you thought you'd never need again, but couldn’t bring yourself to let go of. Now, it felt like a tether to the past, one you couldn't leave behind.

When you pushed open the half-burned door to your office, you stopped in your tracks at the sight of an unwelcome guest.

Bingham sat behind what was left of your desk, leaning back in the chair with an unsettling ease. And in his hand, glinting faintly in the dim light, was the ring.

“Always the sentimental ghost,” he said with a crude grin, holding the ring up between his fingers. “But this… this seemed worth keeping.”

Your stomach twisted, but you pushed yourself to respond. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” he replied smoothly, rising from the chair. “Though I think I already know. Sentimental value, yes? Or something more?” He tossed the ring lightly, catching it again with a smirk.

You stepped forward, holding your hand out. “Give it to me.”

Bingham tilted his head, studying you. "I'm surprised you still have this, y/n. Even after Ezra met his tragic end, I wouldn't imagine you'd even be able to look at it, let alone keep it." He twisted the small silver band in between his fingers. "I taught you better than to let your emotions take over. And yet, here you are. The emotions have won, and I confess, I am disappointed."

"Your approval is not my concern, Alfred. Give it back to me, and I will be on my way."

“I will. But first, we need to talk.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a quieter, more menacing tone. “It was a foolish decision to bring the boy here. Why did you bring him? He doesn't seem to be the protective type.”

“Finn doesn't have anything to do with this.”

Bingham’s smile faded. “And yet, Tommy Shelby has everything to do with it. Finn is his brother, yes? I imagine Tommy is the kind of man who would sooner die than see his youngest sibling gunned down in the street because of some woman.”

His expression darkened as he stepped aside, motioning toward the broken window. You looked down, and the sight forced your chest to clench. Finn was on his knees just outside. One of Bingham’s men stood behind him, the barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of his head.

You laughed, a low-menacing cackle. “You fucking bastard...”

Bingham shrugged, slipping the ring into his pocket. “I am in no position to argue with your opinion of me, little mouse. You brought him here, and now, he will face the consequences of your miscalculation. All that matters now is your next decision. Should you decide to let the boy live, your conscience will be free of guilt, and you will join me once more. Should you choose otherwise...” He let the silence finish the sentence for him.

You looked back down to the sight below. Finn's eyes were wide, darting toward you as if silently begging you to fix this.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, quietly putting up your mask again until all hint of emotion drained from your face. “It doesn't have to be this way, Alfred.”

"Does it not?"

"I made my decision long ago. Tommy Shelby and I have concluded our business. This was the last of my former self that I assumed would be the last of my time with the Peaky Blinders, with the Shelbys."

Bingham smiled, curious. “You're lying.”

You pursed your lips, casually looking around the room. “I'm done with this, Alfred. I'm afraid the Blinders are more trouble than they're worth. My time with them only resulted in the loss of my shop, and you knew this place was dear to me.”

"And Thomas Shelby?"

You tilted your chin up with a gratified smirk. "Thomas Shelby is just another man. Let Finn go. Of the Shelby brothers, he deserves it the least. If you truly need to have your chaos with them, then I'd suggest the Garrison."

With the slight nod of his head, Bingham's eyes narrowed as if he could see the gears turning in your head, every switch slowly changing until you were robotic and complacent once more. He gestured toward the door, and you walked ahead of him, every step feeling heavier than the last. When you emerged outside, Finn looked up at you, confusion and fear etched across his face.

“y/n, no—don’t do this!” Finn shouted, struggling against the man holding him. “You don’t have to—”

“Go home, Finn,” you cut him off, your voice unnaturally cold and even-tempered. You looked at him with the kind of coldness that he'd yet to see on your face. A flicker of disappointment flashed across his face when he realized you wouldn't change your mind. “You’ll be fine.”

Bingham waved his hand, and the man lowered the gun, stepping back from Finn. He stumbled to his feet, but two of Bingham’s men closed in, keeping him from running to you.

“Tell Tommy that our business has concluded." You met Finn’s gaze one last time. "New board.”

Before Finn could argue, Bingham placed his hand on your back and led you inside the car. You didn't look back, even as Finn shouted your name, his voice cracking with desperation.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Tommy paced near the bar, a cigarette burning between his fingers. Maps and notes were laid before him, detailing routes, strongholds, and contingencies. The Shelby brothers and key Blinders stood around, waiting for orders, their expressions grim and determined. Arthur nursed a glass of whiskey, while John flicked his knife open and shut, the repetitive motion adding to the charged atmosphere.

The door suddenly burst open, and Finn stumbled in, out of breath and wide-eyed. The room froze as all eyes turned to him.

“Finn?” Tommy’s sharp tone cut through the silence.

Finn leaned against the wall, catching his breath, his face pale and his voice shaky. “It’s y/n. She left with Bingham.”

The room erupted in a flurry of movement and voices. Arthur slammed his glass on the table, John stood up so quickly his chair toppled over, and Michael’s expression darkened.

“Start talkin’,” Arthur demanded, stepping toward Finn. “What do you mean, she left with him? What happened?”

Finn ran a hand through his hair, his breathing still ragged. “We went back to the bookshop—she wanted to grab something. I told her it was a bad idea, but she wouldn’t listen. I stayed outside, but then Bingham’s men showed up.” His voice broke as he continued. “They had a gun to my head, Arthur. She... she went with him. Willingly. Told me to go home.”

Tommy’s face was unreadable, but his sharp eyes pinned Finn in place. “Why didn’t you come to me before you went to the shop?” he asked, his tone icy.

“I didn’t think—I didn’t know—” Finn stammered, his voice cracking under Tommy’s piercing gaze. “She said it would be quick. I didn’t think Bingham would—”

“You didn’t think,” Tommy snapped, slamming his hand on the table. “That’s your bloody problem, Finn.”

“Tommy,” Michael interjected, his voice calm but firm. “We need to move.”

Tommy took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he turned back to the table. His mind worked like clockwork, already mapping out possibilities and contingencies. He stubbed the cigarette out in a glass ashtray and straightened up, his voice cold and commanding.

His gaze swept across the room. “Arthur, John, get the men ready. Michael, you know what to do. Meet us at Arrow House as soon as you're done. We need eyes on every route out of the city. Finn—” Tommy paused, his voice hard. “Stay here.”

Finn flinched but didn’t argue. His guilt was a weight he couldn’t shake, and he knew better than to push back against Tommy now.

“What if Bingham’s already moved her?” John asked, his tone edged with frustration. “If he’s had her long enough—”

“He won’t harm her,” Tommy interrupted, his voice low but certain. “That's not what he wants.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Tommy’s words settling heavily on everyone. Arthur cracked his knuckles, his expression dark. “It's time then, isn't it, Tom?”

Tommy nodded, grabbing his coat and hat.

Finn took a deep breath, his eyes darkening as all the pieces moved around him. He spoke, slowly and clearly, delivering the last of your words. "Tommy... She said to tell you something."

Tommy turned, and his eyes narrowed.

Finn swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “New board.”

Tommy didn’t respond, but his face twitched in the slightest as if he knew. He knew where you'd be, but most of all, he knew how the game would end.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

As the car took you down the winding roads, you sat still. You hadn't spoken since you'd left the bookshop, but you quickly recognized where you were headed. The road to Arrow House was familiar to you by now, and the cruel irony that Bingham was taking you back to the Shelby estate rang loud and clear.

He always liked these kinds of games. He could've taken you to the train station to ship you back to London. He could've taken you to some unknown spot hours away, but instead, he chose to mock Tommy by bringing you back to the place you might have considered your home. It wasn't to be cruel to you, but it was his way of shifting the odds in his favor by claiming two prizes at once.

“You’re quiet,” Bingham said, breaking the silence. “Planning something, perhaps?”

You sighed, gently brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You're a creature of habit, Alfred.”

He chuckled softly, as if amused by your cold demeanor. “Am I?”

“I told you about the Garrison, so you take me here because no one would be home. They're too busy scrambling trying to figure out your next move. This would be the last place they'd think to look.”

Bingham smirked, looking out the window as Arrow House came into view. “I may yet add this property to my future acquisitions.”

The car slowed to a stop, and Bingham opened the door. You looked up at the looming silhouette of Arrow House, knowing that the second you stepped foot inside, the board would shift again.

[apocalypseornaw]

Nothing I Would Change

(We'll pretend this is Dean for the sake of this)

I was tagged in this post by @kayhi808 on @witchygagirl the challenge was "cursed" so I used a Buffy episode storyline

Warnings um just cursing and mentions of blood I believe

"Alex, where did you hear about this place?" You followed her into the door of a costume shop she'd dragged you, Claire, Kaia and Patience to. The only reason Jody had ok'd the trip was due to your presence. "A nurse I work with" she replied looking over her shoulder at you with a smile.

You weren't sure about the idea of a Halloween party. Garth was hosting it but the idea of multiple hunters taking a night off on possibly one of the busiest nights? Kind of rubbed you the wrong way, plus the chance of something going sideways.

You followed the girls around the store half heartedly paying attention to their choices, giving your opinion when asked. Normally you loved taking the girls out for a day but your head wasn't in it. You and Dean weren't exactly fighting but there was something not quite right.

On some level you felt like maybe it was the idea that you weren't exactly the picture of femininity. Yeah you could clean up decent if a case called for it but you preferred your flannel and jeans. You knew Dean, he wasn't a guy like that. He did not expect the whole damsel in distress, need a man to save me type of girl but the longest relationship he'd ever had was Lisa and for fucks sake the woman wore satin gowns to sleep in while you wore an old band tshirt.

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"You're being quiet. What's up?" Claire asked once they all had purchases and you were yet to even look. You shrugged "stuck in my own head I guess" Kaia smiled "Want help picking a costume?" You nodded "Sure. You girls know my sizes. Have at it" the four of them went in separate directions so you headed for the dressing rooms to wait.

Claire came back with an outfit that vaguely resembled Xena, Kaia had a dress tucked over her arm while Alex had grabbed a nurse outfit and Patience a cop outfit. You took the bundle with a slight smirk "Jesus did all of you get suggestions from Dean?" A laugh ran through them "Just try them on! We don't need to know about what you and Dean do in the dark" Claire teased so you rolled your eyes at her before heading into the dressing room.

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The Xena outfit showed too much, The nurse outfit felt more like a role play outfit and the cop one just felt weird considering your boyfriend had gotten arrested by the feds multiple times in his life. You pulled out the last outfit which was Kaias pick. It was a dress that resembled some of the costumes you'd seen on "Reign" it was gorgeous and when you slipped it on you felt like a princess.

When you opened the door all of the girls started to whistle. "That's the one!" You laughed as they made a big deal out of you "Ok, ok. I'll get it!"

"Sweetheart, we're gonna be late...." Dean trailed off when he walked into the bathroom to see Jody helping you put the final touches on your hair. "Do you like it?" You asked with a nervous smile, smoothing the front of the dress. He nodded slowly, eyes raking across your body "You're absolutely beautiful baby" Jody let out a light laugh "You two are adorable really but Dean's right, you're gonna be late"

Her and Donna had opted to hand out candy to trick or treaters so they were staying home. You shot her a smile then followed Dean out. You weren't one of those couples to do matching costumes and he'd gone with a peaky blinders inspired look and sweet lord the first time you'd seen it you had to pick your jaw up off the floor and Eileen had responded similarly to Sam's getup as well.

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Dean opened the passenger side door for you and when you raised an eyebrow he smirked "Cmon let me be a gentleman" you smiled and placed a quick kiss against his lips "Of course" then climbed in.

Once he was in the driver's seat he reached over for your hand. "You look amazing sweetheart" he spoke quietly and while you looked the attention it wasn't doing anything to subdue your worries. You smiled hoping it looked genuine as you replied "Look at yourself Winchester"

The party was going great. A lot of hunters were in attendance including hunters like Garth and the Banes twins that weren't just normal hunters. Dean watched as you danced with Max and couldn't help but smile, the last few weeks you'd seemed distant and it had worried him. What if you'd decided he wasn't what you wanted, what if you'd found someone better? He couldn't face losing you. He'd never felt about anyone the way he felt about you. He loved you in a way he'd never thought possible and hearing your laughter when Max dramatically dipped you made his heart flip.

"Careful Dean, your face may crack if you smile any harder" he heard someone tease and turned to face Makayla, one of your friends. He laughed lightly "Can't help it. I know I'm a lucky man" she smiled "I'm glad to see her happy. She deserves the best" Dean nodded, never taking his eyes off you "Yeah she does"

The British men of letters hadn't been active in a long time, not since the seige of hunters versus them. No one could have predicted them attacking at a Halloween party of all things.

----------

The chaos littered around the field the party had been set up in was insane even compared to shit Dean had seen. Monsters crawled in from every corner and fights were everywhere.

Garth and Bess were both teeth and claws tearing through beasts while the Banes were throwing spells left and right. Dean hadn't been worried considering you could handle yourself pretty well but when he noticed a handful of people taking on the characteristics of their costumes the mystery costume shop you and the girls had gone to popped into his head.

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

Dean's face was slick with blood, none of it was his. He'd fought his way through a trio of Loup-Garous to get to you. He'd heard your scream and when he found you you'd been pinned against a tree by a vampire about to sink his teeth into your neck.

He'd never moved as fast as he did slicing the vamp's head from his shoulders. Your eyes locked with his half a second before you fainted.

Your head felt like a mixture of the first time you'd drank moonshine, mixed with your first concussion mixed with the migraine you'd had after lucifer had snapped your neck and Cas brought you back.

You opened your eyes slowly and realized you were in one of Garths guest cabins. You tried to sit up but the world shifted causing you to have no choice but to fall back against the pillows with a groan. What the hell had happened?

You looked down to see you were wearing one of Dean's shirts and a pair of his boxers instead of the dress you'd been in. The last thing you remembered was talking to Makayla.

"Dean" you called out, grimacing at how rough your voice sounded. You heard footsteps a second before the door opened to reveal Dean. He was still wearing his peaky blinders look but was coated in blood. That alone made you push through your dizziness to sit up "What happened? Are you ok?"

He quickly made it to the bed easing you back against the headboard in a seated position "British men of letters. We officially wiped out that chapter now thanks to some of Rowenas contacts" you nodded slowly "Why don't I remember?" He touched the shirt you wore "The dress? That store was a front. They placed plants in front of quite a few hunters to get as many of us as possible into cursed costumes" he took a shallow breath before you saw his face fall "I almost lost you"

He sat down next to you and pulled you into his arms. You laid your head against his chest "I'm sorry Dean. I just wanted to be soft and feminine for once" you felt him stiffen under you "Is that why you've been distant? You feel like I don't see you as feminine enough?" You wouldn't meet his eyes but nodded.

He gently grasped your arms to push you back where he could grip your chin to make you look at him "I almost lost you to a cursed costume because you think I give a shit about things like if your makeups done? I love you, I love you in my old shirt, I love you when you're filthy after a hunt, I love you when you're dressed up, I love you when you're in sweats. I don't care what thought has went through that beautiful head of yours but there isn't anything about you that I don't love and there's not a damn thing about you I would change ok?"

You nodded, feeling tears spring to your eyes "Did we lose anyone?" He shook his head "No, thankfully we didn't" he pulled you back against his chest so you let him, laying your head down to listen to his heartbeat. "Matching costumes next year?" You asked quietly and felt his chest vibrate with laughter "As long as we go somewhere like target or spirit halloween, only chain stores from here on out"