PEAKY BLINDERS IMAGINES

John Shelby - 'In His Line Of Sight'

"Everyone - I need you all listening" Tommy called out to everyone, shutting the doors behind people as they came in:

Tommy had called a family meeting, which of course included yourself, the fiancée of Mr John Shelby.

"I need everyone to have their wits about them." Tommy sighed, as he grabbed a chair and sat down. "I want Arthur, John, Johnny Dogs, Lizzie and Y/N-" He said as he looked to you. "-To accompany me tonight at the Mosley rally."

"Listen Tommy - I have no intentions of going anywhere near a fascist party" You say, scoffing at the idea of being anywhere near them.

"No - I understand that-" Tommy said, lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke out before looking back to you. "But I need you there."

"Have you thought this through?" John asked, stupidly really as his brother always thought through his plans - Tommy was always 3 steps ahead. "I mean, it isn't safe Tommy, I don't want to risk it."

"I need Y/N there. Mosley is distracted by attractive women." Tommy looked at John, with dead set eyes. "Y/N needs to be there to distract him, I need his guard down."

John went to speak again, but you held onto his arm to stop him. You had been in this family long enough, you understood the game that needed to be played. Tommy always needed to make the first move.

"I need you all to look your best." Tommy stood up and shuffled him chair back under the stable. "It will be a rough night, there will be protests - dangerous men at every corner - so keep your eyes wandering."

"Meet here at 7pm tomorrow."

***

The meeting broke apart slowly, everyone murmuring their agreements or cursing under their breath. You stayed close to John, his hand never leaving the small of your back as he guided you out into the hallway.

"You sure about this, love?" he said lowly, his brow furrowed.

You looked up at him, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Tommy needs us. Needs me." You placed your hand over his, feeling the tension coiled tight in his body. "I'll be careful."

John grunted, unconvinced. "Still don't like the idea of you near that prick Mosley."

"Neither do I," you replied honestly, "but we do what we have to, yeah?"

He leaned down, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer than usual. "I'm not takin' my eyes off you tomorrow night, alright?"

"Good," you said, smirking faintly. "Wouldn't want you to."

***

The Next Night - Mosley Rally

The atmosphere outside the rally was electric with tension — protesters shouting in the streets, police trying to keep a shaky line between them and the suited supporters pouring into the hall.

You stepped out of the car, feeling the cold bite of the night air on your skin. Tommy had insisted on the dress — black satin, cut just daring enough to catch the wrong kind of attention.

John's hand brushed your waist protectively as you walked toward the entrance, his jaw tight. Tommy led the way, a composed figure of authority, Arthur and Johnny Dogs close behind. Lizzie flanked your other side, her expression schooled into polite disinterest.

Inside, the hall was all flashing banners, red, black, and white, the symbol of Mosley's movement plastered on every wall. The crowd was loud, fervent, dangerously alive.

You hated it immediately.

But you held your head high, keeping your movements slow and deliberate, exactly how Tommy had instructed. Eyes were already drifting toward you — and among them, the snake himself.

Oswald Mosley.

You caught him watching you from the far side of the room, a predatory smile tugging at his lips. It made your skin crawl.

"He's seen you," Tommy murmured from behind you, his hand ghosting across your back. "Good. Stay close to me until he approaches."

You nodded slightly, schooling your features into a careful, polite mask.

It didn't take long.

Mosley crossed the hall with the swagger of a man who thought the world belonged to him. He greeted Tommy with a clasp of hands, all false smiles and political charm.

"And who might this vision be?" Mosley said, his eyes never once leaving you.

Tommy's smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "This is Y/N," he said smoothly. "A close friend of the family."

You curtsied slightly, your voice as sweet as poisoned honey. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr Mosley."

"The pleasure, my dear, is all mine," Mosley purred, taking your hand and brushing his lips against it in a mockery of chivalry.

John bristled beside you. You could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him, but he kept still — for now.

Tommy gave you the briefest nod. The signal.

You leaned in slightly, offering a laugh at something Mosley said — you didn't even hear the words. Your role was clear: distract, charm, lower his guard.

Mosley, the arrogant bastard, practically preened under the attention.

Tommy slipped away smoothly, dragging Arthur and Johnny Dogs with him, leaving you and Lizzie to hold the line. John remained a few feet away, his hand twitching at his side, ready for anything.

You sipped your drink slowly, playing the part of the interested, naive girl while internally counting the minutes until this hellish game was over.

Mosley droned on about "the future of England," spouting vile rhetoric under the guise of patriotism. You laughed in the right places, keeping him talking, buying Tommy the time he needed to get whatever information or deal done.

Finally, Tommy reappeared at your side, his hand firm on your elbow.

"Thank you, Mr Mosley," he said coolly. "But we must be going."

Mosley looked irritated, but didn't argue. He tipped his hat toward you. "I do hope we'll meet again, my dear."

"Unlikely," you said sweetly, flashing him a smile so sharp it could wound.

John was by your side in an instant, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. You let him, feeling the tremor of contained rage in him.

The family moved quickly toward the exit, the air outside a blessed relief from the choking stench of fascism inside.

Once you were safely back in the cars, Tommy exhaled a long, slow breath.

"Good work," he said, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. "We've got what we need."

John didn't say a word. He just pulled you against him, holding you fiercely.

"You alright?" he murmured against your hair.

"I'm fine," you whispered back. "It's over."

He leaned back to look at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes burning with something fierce and aching.

"Never again," John said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm not lettin' you anywhere near men like him ever again."

You smiled, pressing your forehead against his.

"Next time," you said lightly, "you can wear the dress."

John barked out a surprised laugh, the tension finally breaking.

Tommy watched the two of you from the front seat, a rare, soft expression flickering across his face before he turned away.

The war would go on — there would always be more fights, more danger. But for now, you were safe. Together.

And that was enough.