#john shelby fanfiction
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Wet Sheets - A John Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.
Because we all love a bit of smutty John of a Monday morning. Yes, we do!
Words - 1,079
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
He wasn’t very adept at it, back when you first met him. You wouldn’t exactly say lousy, but he needed a little tutelage. Of course, John being John, he didn’t take it all too well to begin with, either.
“What the bloody hell d’you mean? Ain’t had any complaints before. I find everything I’ve gotta find down there alright, don’t I?”
Oh yes. With his fingers, he needed absolutely no guidance. Push in, hook over, rake, and there he’d take you right on a clear trajectory to the stars. His tongue, though? Hm.
“What you’re seeking with your tongue, John... it’s about half an inch from where you think it is.”
He’d huffed. He’d pulled his undershirt and trousers on, muttering about going for a smoke. You’d wondered if he was coming back at all after he’d been gone for fifteen minutes, but he did eventually return, smelling of tobacco and whiskey, pulling himself out of his clothes. His face had been set in steely determination.
“Right. Fucking get your legs open and show me.”
You did, showing him exactly where and how to use his tongue against you, and goodness, how you reaped the rewards of him deciding to stuff his pride down, be a good boy and listen. Now, whenever John has his mouth between your legs, you are reluctant to let him surface. Now, he has your pouring for him like warm honey without fail. Every single time.
“Fucking hell,” he mumbles, his fingers taking over as he pauses from beating the tip of his tongue rapidly over your clit. “I need gills!”
You arch an eyebrow, snorting softly with laughter. “Are you seriously complaining?”
“Nah, bab. Ain’t complaining at all, just saying, like. Got a right fucking little sex puddle on me sheets already, you have.” His words are delivered with much triumph, pressing his tongue against the wet of you, flat, firm heat dragging over your bud again and again. Your hips judder, John smiling at your reactions, long licks continuing as his eyes close and his buries his mouth against you.
His lips bathe your clit in a soft suck, kissing it, moaning around you, hands gripped tight upon your thighs as your soft cries fill the space. Each lick gilds you golden, pleasure thrumming through you, the swell of it rolling tighter the faster his tongue begins to move. Your thighs lock tight against his head, wailing as it builds, the dawn of your undoing spilling over his horizon as the glimmers burst forth.
Yet, he doesn’t cease.
“John... I... oh!” You whimper, shaking from oversensitivity, hands fisting the sheets. “But I already...”
He snorts softly. “I know, but just cos’ you came, it don’t mean I’m done. I ain’t no Johnny fuckin’ half a job, sweetheart.”
His teeth gently graze your bud, and it sends sparks glimmering through you, tongue rolling over you again firmly, heat misting your spine. His licks are gently placed to begin with, little flickers chased to skittered heat once more, the hot wrap of pillowy heat from his lips encircling your clit, your body shivering in response.
He sucks a fever at you, tongue circling, hands gliding over your thighs, your cunt trickling onto his tongue as he opens his mouth to drag a firm lick through your folds. The fever of it rushes over you, winds tight, held in the orbit of his control as moonbeams shine through the darkest depths of you once more, coming apart again quickly.
Those little pin pricks of ecstasy are still tingling as he kisses his way back up your body, sating you with the thick intrusion of his cock, his mouth landing upon yours as he begins to fuck you slowly into the little puddle his tongue created.
“Like this big, hard cock, don’t ya, love?”
“Mmm,” you groan, your nails trailing the shortly shaven sides of his head. “You know I do.”
He gives you a few more long thrusts a little punt of his hips daggering him deep each time he pushes forth, head dipping to lay kisses over your clavicles. “Turn over, bab. I wanna watch your arse bounce as I fuck ya.”
He slips out, lust blown eyes watching as you arrange yourself accordingly to his wishes, John giving you a little spank on the bum before returning himself to you with a lust-soaked groan. Anticipation creeps over your muscles, feeling him push against you, the stretch of him sending tingles through your walls. He splits you wide, fills you deep, his hands gripping your waist as he fills and empties you with long, even strokes, and god, if you could see the smile on his face at how good you feel.
It rolls through you like a storm, your gangster lover not remaining contained for long before he’s pounding into you savagely, his abs trembling as his hands fist tight in your hair, pulling your head back. Mutual moans fill the room with the sexiest harmony of sin, your walls fluttering around him, heat creeping up through him like a vine ascending, taking hold of his senses in a swirling tempest.
White hot pleasure glints through you, tumbling down your spine like a shooting star, John reaching beneath you to rub circles at your clit as his cock punches you deep, splits you wide, remakes you around him. He grits, a groan like tumbling boulders echoing through his chest as he fucks a storm of nirvana through your body, your hips pushing back against him as you cry out.
Your voice breaks on his name, your waves flooding his shore as you come with a feral wail, his body rapidly driving against you until his cock jerks and he’s joining you, tight bliss come undone, his head resting upon your back.
“Fucking hell,” he pants, laying soft kisses against your spine, “that’s proper done me in, that has.”
You giggle softly, feeling him slide from you, pulling your spent body to rest against his in the messy tangle of bed linen. “Not so much that you won’t be able to do it all over again a bit later though, I hope?”
His grin is wide and devilish. “Like I said, bab. I ain’t no Johnny half a job.
Some of his god-given talents truly required no further instruction. The way he fucks you remains as beyond perfect as it ever was, ensuring the sheets beneath you never stay bone dry once he's done.
#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby smut#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders smut#john shelby x reader#john shelby x you#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fic#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic
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Hiii K, congrats on your 3.5k! That’s such an amazing milestone 🥳🤩 I’d like to send in the following prompt for John. 17. “How do babies get made.” I felt like this would go very well with John 🤭 Can’t wait to see with what you’ll come up with!
Hi Daisy @peakyltd !! Thanks so much for sending this in!! I was hoping that someone would choose John for this prompt because you’re sooo right - it fits him perfectly!!! I hope you like what I did with this! Also a special thanks to @raincoffeeandfandoms for letting me use the ‘little chimney man’ who brings babies…you’ve helped (Y/N) immensely here! Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!
That’s Not What Dad Said
John Shelby x Reader
Warnings: awkward talk about babies being born, a playful smack with a newspaper
Word Count: 677
Summary: (Y/N) gets a surprise when she and John’s oldest child asks a rather interesting question out of the blue.
The question that six year old James Shelby asked just about made (Y/N) spit the tea she was drinking right back into its cup. “Can you repeat that again, dear?” she prompted the child, silently hoping that she didn’t hear him correctly.
“How do babies get made?” the boy repeated his question. It was the exact question (Y/N) had heard. Word for word.
“Umm, well…” she trailed off, taking a few moments to try and think of how she’d tackle this. The boy was six…he didn’t need to know about the actual process that occurred. “So when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they have a talk, and in that talk, they decide that they want to have a baby. Then, there’s a man who comes down the chimney after hearing the talk and puts the baby in the mummy’s tummy. In nine months, the baby is born, and that’s how babies are made,” she finished her extravagent story with the exhale of a breath and an unsteady smile, hoping that it worked.
James looked at his mother, not saying anything for a few moments. “That’s not what dad said,” was what he finally said in response.
His statement immediately confused (Y/N). “Wha—what do you mean?” she rushed to ask, her eyes shifting between her son and her husband, who was still reading the newspaper and drinking tea; completely unbothered.
“Dad and uncle Arthur were talking yesterday and uncle Arthur was telling him about a lady he was with and I asked dad what he meant and he said that it’s how babies get ma…”
“Alright, I’ve heard enough. Why don’t you go and get ready for school, hmm?” (Y/N) cut the boy off, already having an idea of where the rest of his statement was going. Her insides were doing flips just thinking about her husband and his brother talking about stuff like that in James’ presence.
“Ok,” James nodded, hopping off of the chair without a second thought. (Y/N) was thankful he didn’t question it and did what she asked. He ran off then, leaving (Y/N) and John alone in the kitchen.
(Y/N) looked over at John, seeing him glance over at her while holding the cup up to his lips. He tried to be nonchalant and revert his eyes to the newspaper, but (Y/N) caught his gaze. “Would you like to tell me why you and Arthur were talking about those types of things with your boy in the room?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.
“We didn’t think he was listenin’ to us,” John tried to defend himself, setting the cup down so that he could look at her.
“He’s six, John. He listens to everything…and then he only remembers the things he isn’t supposed to,” she countered, her frustration shining through her words.
“It was a mistake, love. It won’t happen again,” he assured her, surrendering the argument because it was one he knew he couldn’t win.
“It better not,” (Y/N) emphasized, standing up from her chair to collect the empty dishes from the table. She walked them over to the sink, sitting them in it so that she could do the washing. Before getting to it, she walked back to where John was sitting with the newspaper in his hands. “Let me see that,” she said to him as she stopped at his side, motioning to the paper he was holding.
“Here,” he said, handing the paper over without second thought.
(Y/N) didn’t waste any time. She rolled the paper up and used it to lightly smack John on the back of the head, the sound of the whack from it filling the room.
“Oww!” he exclaimed, turning to look at her with wide eyes as he rubbed the back of his head.
A grin spread across (Y/N)’s face as she locked eyes with her husband. “I meant what I said,” she said then, seriousness present in her voice.
Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway
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#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby x y/n#john shelby blurb#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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His Reaction to Your Boyfriend Cheating on You (Peaky Blinders Preference)
Requested: No.
Characters: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby
_______________________________
Tommy
To say that Tommy is furious would be an understatement. Seeing you crying at the table, completely broken, made his blood boil. With a swift kiss to your forehead, and leaving you in the capable hands of Aunt Poll, Tommy gathered together the rest of the Peaky Blinders, along with your other brothers, and stormed their way to your boyfriends house, where they made him wish that he was never born.
Tommy smiled lightly as he seen your sleeping form when he arrived back. Aunt Poll put a finger to her lips before he slowly walked over, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “Everything’s taken care of now, Y/N. He’s never going to hurt you again.”
Arthur
“Why the fuck did you do it! I want an answer!” You stood across the room from your now ex boyfriend, chest heaving with anger. Your boyfriend just stared at the floor and shrugged. “Just felt like it...” Your face turned an angry red, steam literally coming out of your ears. In a fit of rage, you picked up the nearest object and threw it at his head, narrowly missing him.
“Are you mad?! That nearly hit me!” “That was the fucking point!” At that moment the front door opened and in stepped Arthur, looking puzzled at the scene before him. Whereas, you actually heard your ex gulp as he realized exactly what was going to happen. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Arthur looked at you for an answer but your angry gaze was still on your ex. “Him. He cheated on me with that slut down the road. He said that he just felt like it, not giving two shits about me!”
Arthur’s eyes darkened as he pulled out his gun, aiming it at your ex’s head, and shot him dead between the eyes. “That’s what happens when you mess with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”
John
John walked up to your bedroom door and went to open it but stopped in his tracks when he heard muffled sobs coming from inside. “Y/N, sweetheart, can I come in?” Hearing a muffled reply, he opened the door and made his way to your side, picking you up and cradling you. “What’s the matter?” “He-he cheated on me. Said I was no good, said I wasn’t worth anything, that he found someone better.”
You began sobbing again and it broke John’s heart hearing his little sister cry. He kissed the top of your head and lay you back down gently, secretly seething with anger. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m coming right back, I just need to teach him a lesson. Nobody makes my sister cry, not without consequences.”
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby preference#arthur shelby#arthur shelby x reader#arthur shelby imagine#arthur shelby fanfiction#arthur shelby preference#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby imagine#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby preference#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders preference
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Idle Hands
I'm clearing out my drafts, so please enjoy this super short one shot. I'm not all that happy with this, but I've been working on it for months, and if I kept working on it, it was never going to get posted.
Contains: Historically inaccuracy around coconut oil and rum, fluff, smut (P in V).
933 words
John gets bored on your spa vacation.
When Tommy suggested you and John go to one of those new fandangled spa resorts by the sea to take a break from the rush and smoggy air of Birmingham, you knew it would be a change. What you didn't know was how bored you were going to be, one can only soak in the Grecian pool so much.
When you returned from your spa treatment, John was lying on one of the couches in your room, naked under the towel wrapped around his waist as he read the Birmingham Times, looking disinterested. You walked behind the loveseat and wrapped your arms around his body as he twisted himself to kiss you. He pulled back with a smile and took a deep breath. "You smell like that fancy rum we give to the Toffs at the Eden Club, the one from the Caribbean."
"Yes, I just spent the last hour getting a coconut oil massage." It was nice, but even a trained masseuse had nothing on John's strong, capable hands. You made the short journey around the seat and sat next to him, but he grinned and lifted you onto his lap. "What are you doing?"
His eyes filled with mischief as he placed his hand on your thigh. "I got lonely without you."
His calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh, his trigger finger the roughest as they slowly slid closer to the leg opening of your loose linen shorts. "I'm sorry, Dearest. You could have come with me. They did have a couples option."
He started running his fingertips up and down your leg, from your knee to just inside your shorts and back again, before letting out a sigh. "I'm bored shitless, love. There's nothing to do here."
You raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I can think of a few things."
The way he grinned and tilted his head told you the game was on, and a bulge radially grew in the towel as he pulled you into a kiss. You couldn't decide whether to remove his towel or your shirt, and the room filled with laughter as your hands collided midair in the rush to choose. The towel fell away as the knot came undone, and a moment later, his hands found your bare skin.
He palmed your breasts as his lust filled eyes raked over your body. "You're so fucking beautiful." He pushed himself up and pulled you further onto his lap as his lips found yours with force, his teeth meeting your flesh as his hand moved to your lower back to press you to his hard cock. The kiss turned softer as his other hand made its way to your core.
He smiled into the kiss as his fingers ran through the mess between your legs. He swallowed your moans as he zeroed in on your clit and dug your nails into his ample bicep as your head fell against his chest. He was infuriating sometimes; his need to take his time and enjoy it like he was walking through an interactive art gallery made you far more desperate than you were willing to admit. "John, please, you had your fun this morning, have mercy on me."
His chest rumbled with a chuckle, and you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his plump lower lip as he brought his fingers down to your entrance. Just as you were preparing to protest again, he pulled his fingers away and grabbed his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. "Well, hop on Love." He held himself steady as you slid down and settled into his lap.
You stayed still, adjusting to his size as one of his hands landed on your lower back while the other found your cheek. His fingertips brushed your cheekbone as you started to rock your hips, and his nose bumped yours as affection poured from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest as he took over the pace and you buried your head in his neck as your nerves lit up like the night sky during a bomb run.
He hit his stride, and an inferno followed the path his hand made from your back to your clit as he rubbed it in tight circles while your breath caught in your chest. Your teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder as the sparks of pleasure grew overwhelming while the steady pressure of his cock on your G-spot made your thighs twitch against his firm body.
He was grunting like an animal, snapping his hips up at the end of each stroke to kiss your cervix before pulling out almost all the way and starting again. Your nails dug into his skin and opened your mouth to warn him of your oncoming fall over the edge, but he already knew and took you in a searing kiss as he pushed you over it. Your world spun as you landed on your back and he folded you like a pretzel as used all his leverage to slam into you.
It was so much it almost ached, but just as you were about to try to beg for mercy between desperate breaths, you felt him pulse inside you, and his weight collapsed on top of you while his chest heaved and his hips stuttered with aftershocks. He took a deep breath, and you felt his lips fall all across your face in gentle kisses. "You right, Love?"
You nodded. "I'm great. Are you still bored?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm great too."
Fin
#john shelby smut#john shelby fanfiction#joe cole#peaky blinders fanfiction#john shelby#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fic#john shelby x you#john shelby x reader#john shelby/you#john shelby/reader#peaky blinders smut
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prompt 37 with john shelby, please? <3
37. “You have 5 seconds to get your hand off my ass.”
"What? I thought we were supposed to act like a couple."
Tommy had sent you along with Arthur and John to have a chat with the Italians in order to start the negociations while he could figure his shit out.
"I think it'd make it less tense if they thought y/n and I were dating," you looked at John confused, hoping that Tommy would find it as stupid as you did.
"Mh. Could be a good idea, yeah. I suppose that way they wouldn't see this dinner as serious as it really it," Tommy shrugged nonchalantly while a boyish smile appeared on John's face.
"Stop grinning like an idiot, that'll be your only opportunity to get a taste of what it's like to be with me," you scoffed, already annoyed. You quickly bumped into his shoulder on your way out, which led him to turn to Michael, who was leaning against the wall, very entertained. "Ooh, feisty is how I like her," John chuckled.
When the time came, the three of you arrived at the Garrison and were then led to the closed booth which was reserved to the Shelbys' affairs.
There, you were greeted by three Italian men, two of whose eyes widened when they landed on you. This didn't go unnoticed under John's attention, who quickly brought you closer to him with a firm grip on your hip.
"Well, finally we meet. Gentlemen, this is Arthur, my brother and y/n, his lovely woman," John couldn't help but grin proudly, even though he was aware that it was all fake.
He nodded, "Isn't she beautiful," he remarked as his eyes scanned you in one motion and that's when you felt his hand slide down your back only to land on your butt.
Aware of what was at stake at the end of this meeting, you did your best to contain yourself and not ruin it. So, you looked at John — whose cocky smile showed how much fun he was having —, smiled the men and placed your head on his shoulder and your arm went behind his back to circle it.
However, you just couldn't help but squeeze his side a bit too tight which made him jump ever so slightly.
While Arthur told them about Tommy's absence at this encounter, you jumped on the opportunity to turn your head so that only John would hear you and started whispering. "You have 5 seconds to get your hand off my ass," because of course, it was still there.
He looked down at you, "What? I thought we were supposed to act like a couple," joining your silent conversation which made him feel like a kid again.
"Well, that I know but that's not what I was thinking about when Tommy-"
"Well, shall we sit, lovebirds?" asked one of the three men who were already sitting on the booth along with Arthur, which cut off your frustration.
"Right," John sat first at the end so that he'd be in the corner, his favourite spot. He then lifted his arm in your direction and motioned you to join him and only smiled when you sat close enough so that your thigh was touching his.
Under the table, he placed his hand on your thigh but that oddly didn't feel like he was trying to annoy you.
That's when you looked at him, then who he was staring at that you understood. Indeed, the one guy that wasn't talking with Arthur or his own was trying to catch as much glimpses of you as he could which made John's blood boil.
He knew he couldn't shoot the guy — obviously — so the only thing he did to reassure himself was holding your thigh protectively.
Seeing him actually being protective made you realise that John might've actually been serious each time he was flirting with you.
You liked him too but never took him seriously because you knew how he was and how many girls he'd been seen with all across Birmingham.
Though, what you ignored but now suspected, was that they were excuses for him to stop thinking about you since you'd always denied his advances.
So, you decided to do something as to show him that he could, in fact, "have" you for real when the time will be right.
His body immediately relaxed when he felt your hand cover and slide in his before squeezing it reassuringly, making him smile softly and give you a quick wink before finally, talking with Arthur to lead the meeting.
#john shebly x reader#john shelby headcanon#john shelby x reader#john shelby#john shelby imagine#john shelby fiction#john shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby headcanon#tommy shelby x reader#arthur shelby headcanon#arthur shelby x reader#michael shelby fiction#michael gray fiction#michael gray x reader#michael shelby imagine#michael gray headcanon#peaky blinders preference#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders headcanon
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Drunk at 7AM | John Shelby x GN!Reader
Summary : You find John drinking alone in the Garrison at the break of dawn and you knock some sense into him.
Warnings : cussing, consumption of alcohol
Additional Information :
> no spoilers
> written in second person
> gender neutral reader
> 799 words | 4 mins
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From the car seat, your arms grab hold onto a crate full of glass bottles. Leaning back slightly to support the heavy weight, you walk briskly towards the grand doors of the Garrison. The sky was dull and grey, the sun barely peaking onto the horizon. The icy wind bites the skin on your hands, stiffening and numbing your fingers as they clutch on the ridges of the said crate.
Reaching the doors, you prop up a knee and rest the crate on it with a steady hand. Holding it close to your hip, you reach into the pockets of your coat to find the keys. The metal keys jingle in your grasp as you hold up one in particular to unlock the door, only to find it unlocked and a tad bit ajar. *Did you forget to lock up?* Panic sets in. You use your back to push the doors open, settling the crate on a nearby table. Your eyes scan the bar, the drinks and furniture seemed to be where they were the night before. That is, until your eyes landed on a familiar figure at a corner.
"John?" your voice calls out, eyes squinting to get a better look. "That you?" you say again. A rough grunt answered your question. You close the distance between between the both of you. You see John Shelby hunched over at a corner of the bar, an empty glass at hand. A bottle of whiskey stood tall in front of him, a third of the liquid already gone. His head hung low and his hair a mess with parts of it sticking out from the hardened pomade.
You walk towards him slowly whilst rubbing your hands together for warmth. "It's seven in the bloody morning, John. What are you doing with a full bottle of the Garrison's whiskey, huh?" You snatched the bottle away.
"Mind ya business. Oi, what 're ya think you're doing wit' that bott'l? Give me that!" John straightens up and extends his arm, trying to grab the bottle from you. He almost trips, holding onto the bar table for support.
A sigh escapes your lips and you grab another glass from behind the counter. You pour yourself a drink and filled John's glass too. You closed the bottle tightly and placed it back to where it belonged. Waiting patiently, you sip on the whiskey and rest your arms on the table.
John looks at you and clears his throat. He knew he wouldn't be able to walk away from this confrontation. He sighs and grabs his glass, downing the contents in one gulp. "The kids got me runnin' 'round all night. Not a wink of sleep," He says with an exasperated tone, rubbing his red eyes.
You look at him with pity. Later on in the morning, the gambling den will open to welcome another round of bets. John usually took care of the receipts and customers, rounding them up in a straight line as he took note of their payments. Without sleep, you knew he'd be way too out of his head.
Taking the matter into your own hands, you hand him the remaining contents of your drink. "Have the day off. I'll deal with it," You tell him, already formulating a plan. John waves his hand with reluctance and shakes his head aggressively, causing him to be even more giddy.
"N-no, I can't do 'that. Tommy will shoot my head off," John argues, standing up from his seat with shaky movements as he grabs his wrinkled coat from his chair.
"Oh shut up. Your head doesn't look like it's with you at this moment anyway," You tell him in a joking manner. You move to put his arms over your shoulder and walk towards the family car. Even in his drunken state, John doesn't rest his full weight on you and tried his best to walk alongside with your guidance. He leans on the window as you lock the Garrison from the outside.
Grabbing a hold on him again, you reach the door handles of the car. You open the passenger side and shove him in. "Ow!" He remarks, holding the side of his head.
"Oh shit! sorry," You laugh quietly at your carelessness.
You sat at the driver's seat and turn on the engine, driving to the Shelby residence. John sleeps soundlessly beside you with the exhaustion finally washing down on him. The car stops in front of the house and you turn to wake him but thought twice about waking him from his slumber. Instead, the car accelerates at a steady pace and you drove around town as he catches some shut-eye.
#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x you#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#john shelby peaky blinders#john shelby x gn!reader
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i saw that you were asking for some dad requests and i was thinking maybe dad!john just being domestic with his kids and wife
“Daddy home!”
You were quite used to the incoherent babbles of your youngest, if not on your hip then she was always close by. Currently, she was in the high chair smearing some kind of berry puree over her face, your back to her as you slaved over the sauce for dinner. It was harder work than you remembered, actually, it had always been hard work, at one point in time you were just more used to it. Part of you, the part that was a bit sweaty from the heat of the burner, or maybe the part that could only mumble at Lucy’s words, not giving her your proper attention, it was those parts combined that made you regret dismissing the cook and the maid earlier this week. It was just easy to keep your mind busy when you literally had your hands full.
“I told you sweetheart, Daddy will be home soon. Not too long now, four more days.” You weren’t ashamed to admit to counting down the days until your husband’s return, not to the 2 year-old at least. Some of the others were old enough to know, and everyone in the household was old enough now to miss John when he was away on these “required” trips. You suggested the others play outside, figuring the sun and the distraction would do them all some good. Which it did, taking a peak out the window about the sink to see George, Peter, and William chasing after their big sister through the fields to the side of the house. The only bad thing about your motherly suggestion was that it left the house quiet.
Too quiet.
You were glad for Lucy’s babblings, however incoherent.
“Daddy home! Daddy home! See Daddy.”
“Yes baby, soon.”
“Not soon enough, aye?” It was the familiar smell of tobacco that made you stop in your tracks, but it was the Brummie accent that nearly brought happy tears to your eyes before even trying towards the door. The kids’ giggled with excitement by his side, nearly hanging on him, more excited to see him than you were.
“John Shelby, what is the meaning of this?” Shock, excitement, and faux annoyance folded onto your features, hands on your hips as you looked at him. Though, the longer you looked at him, the quicker you wanted him in your space again, breathing your air, taking it away from you in the style of a kiss.
“Can’t a man surprise his wife and family?” His voice reflected your annoyance, though his was rooted in his surprise not being appreciated when it was far from the truth.
You thought about hitting him with a quick-witted quip, but decided better of it, not wanting your first time in two weeks being make-up sex.
“Absolutely.” You smiled, walking towards him and finally settling against him, feeling every ounce of tension leave you when his arms wrapped strongly around your frame. “You can surprise us any day.” A kiss to your temple his only reply until you finally unburied your head from his chest so he could kiss you properly.
All the kids cringed. All for Lucy, who clapped and holster, proud of herself for announcing his return.
So much time and yet so little had passed, but John missed you. Missed you more than you could know, though you had the slightest suspicion because of the way he looked at you when he stepped in, and the way he continued looking at you now. Eyes dark with lust and desire and hunger for you and only you.
“Daaaaadd…” Katie whined, pulling at his arm for some of his attention.
It was hard for him to take his eyes off you.
“Right,” he cleared his throat, “speaking of surprises. You lot didn’t think Dad’d come ‘one empty handed, did ya?”
The next few minutes we’re like Christmas- special candies for the boys, a silk skirt for Katie, a pair of booties for Lucy, “and yours you’ll have to wait to use in the bedroom later,” he whispered in your ear. Slapping his chest, though his humor might not have been missed, or his inappropriate innuendos, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You couldn’t resist kissing him again, his lips tasting even better than you imagined, better than you remembered. You lost yourself in his lips, their softness, their gentleness, the way they knew exactly when to push and yours pull and vice versa, moving in synchronicity that can only be due to years of exploring each other. You only knew you’d both gotten over zealous when the kids began their teasingly disgusted sounds, and it wasn’t due to the candy they’d devoured.
“Well, now that Dad’s back, it’s his turn to tuck everyone in and read them to bed,” you declared with a devilish grin his way, the kids cheering, practically racing upstairs to change into their nightgowns. Your stories just weren’t as interesting (which also meant they were more effective at sending them to sleep).
“And while you do that, I’ll be in our room… unwrapping that present of yours. I think I have a little surprise of my own for you.”
And you swore you’d never seen John Shelby blush, not that you could remember anyway.
#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#john shelby imagine#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby imagines#john shelyby
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Electric: Chapter 21
Modern John Shelby AU
This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. Classy smut warning beginning with Chapter 5.
Welcome to the second part of Electric! Make sure you catch up on Part 1 (Chapters 1 - 20) at the masterlist link below. Let's get back to John and Gemma.
Chapter 20 Electric Masterlist
Electric
Chapter 21: Atlantic
Three weeks after returning to Birmingham from London, Gemma sat in her flat on a rainy day, with Julia sitting on the floor next to her. They were preparing for Gemma's trip to New York, confirming travel details and documents that may be needed.
"You still haven't told John exactly who you'll be seeing in New York, have you?" Julia asked, looking over at Gemma.
Gemma bit her lip and shook her head. There really wasn't a reason to not tell John. It was more that she didn't want to face the idea of John being in Small Heath while she was on the other side of the Atlantic, dealing with a part of her own past.
"I will. Tonight." Gemma finally said with a sigh.
"You know he'll be alright with it if you are, yeah? But are you also sure you want to do this? See Nick again?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. He was a huge part of my life, a huge part of my career really. The band is finally getting the chance they've always deserved, and I know them better than anyone. I don't want personal history to get in the way of me supporting talent that I believe in."
Julia nodded and watched as Gemma's eyes faded out to another place. She'd heard the stories about Nick Stanton. Incredibly talented, so close to have hitting it big in the late 2000s. Still making albums and playing locally. Never Sleep Records had finally caught on after years and years of Gemma pitching the band to everyone she knew.
"Tell John tonight. It'll be a lot easier for you to go if he knows the full truth and you have his full support. If there's one thing about that man I know for sure, he loves you." Julia said with a smile.
Gemma nodded with a grin, thinking back to the week before when they had invited Julia and a few of John and Finn's friends over for dinner. Julia and Isiah had hit it off, despite Julia protesting that she was too old for him (to which Isiah had made her swoon with a compliment). Julia had hung out with John and Gemma together several times by that point, but she could tell something had changed between them after the Eden opening. They were more settled into each other.
"Now, practice with me how you're going to tell your loving, hotter than fuck boyfriend that you're going on a work trip and will be seeing your former ... boyfriend? Love interest? Complication? Who is far less loving and far less hot." Julia stated.
Gemma rolled her eyes and laughed at the comparison of John and Nick. And Julia was right. They were night and day in every single respect.
Later that night after supper, Gemma sat next to John on the sofa in the Shelby living room, the TV on low as they enjoyed the peace. Finn had gone out with Carolyn, and Gemma fidgeted, linking and unlinking her fingers as she thought of what to say. And how to say it.
"What's going on Gem?" John asked casually, taking one of her hands in his.
He'd noticed that she'd been more and more nervous as the week went on and had initially chalked it up to her work trip. But then he realized she'd told him very few details about said work trip, and he began to suspect there was something more to the story.
"So, you know how I'm going to New York. Well, the thing is ... the band that I'm going to represent ... is Nick's band." Gemma mumbled, looking down as she picked at the sleeve of John's shirt.
He took a moment to breathe and process. Gemma had told him about Nick early on, but never really gave much detail. He'd put together bits and pieces and came to the conclusion that Gemma had been in love with Nick for a long time and it was a messy relationship. Nick also seemed to be a large reason why she took the job at Church Street Records.
"You haven't really told me much about him, but I've heard enough to know that he was a really important person in your life for a long time. Are you nervous? Scared?" John asked softly, pulling Gemma into his lap.
"Both, I guess. But more nervous and scared that it's going to be a problem for you." Gemma whispered.
"Gems, hey, look at me." John replied, gently tilting her face up. The look in her eyes saddened him.
"I love you. I am with you. That's not changing, love, I promise. I trust you and I know that you've decided to take this on for good reason." John continued.
Gemma nodded and leaned her head against John's shoulder. Julia could not have been more correct. Everything about John was different from Nick.
"I know ...and I know I haven't talked about him much. It's been strange to me, to think about talking about him when all I want to do is focus on you and me."
"Would you feel better if you told me a little bit about him?"
Gemma thought for a minute and then nodded. She sat up straight, the feeling of John's arm around her waist comforting and safe. She knew she'd have to talk about it eventually.
"Nick and I met years ago at a show one night, years ago now. I was 17, he was 20. He was playing with another band I knew. Something happened when our eyes met, kind of like how it felt when I met you. Like something big was happening in my life and I could feel everything changing. I did everything I could for him. Promo, working his shows, selling merch, sitting in on recording sessions. I was his personal cheerleader in a lot of ways. It's always been a very ... complex relationship."
John nodded his head and watched as Gemma went back to picking at the cuff of his sleeve. Her fingers brushed over his and he took the opportunity to link his fingers through hers, catching the small smile on her face as he did so.
"I know there's more." He said quietly.
"I've always loved him. Hated and loved him, most times. He was … is so frustrating. I used my work with him as the basis of my resume, the experience got me my first paying jobs in the industry. And I know I don't owe him anything for that. But it became complicated ... when we were together, at a show or in a studio, it was perfection. Everything about us was in sync. But outside of that, it was messy. He's dated more girls than I can count, always coming back to me in between them. But never committing. Never putting anything on the line for me. And it got to a point where I couldn't do it anymore. So I stopped working with him altogether over a year ago. Hadn't heard from him since. Funny, how they get a record deal offer now."
Gemma looked up at John, his eyes cloudy with the thoughts of someone treating her in that way.
"Are you sure you want to do this? See him again? I trust you completely, I just don't want you to get hurt."
"He asked for me, personally, according to Julia. So did the rest of the band. It's something I worked at for years, trying to get them signed, for them have a bigger platform to put out the music I still really believe in. I want to do that part of it. Interacting with him outside of the business aspect ... I don't know yet."
"You do what you feel is best for you, yeah? If you want to meet with him, to maybe put some things to rest, I think you should do that. If you don't want to, it’s ok to just let it stay in the past."
Gemma wrapped her arms around John's shoulders, pressing her body against his. She sighed with relief as John returned the hug, holding her firmly to him.
“I’ve got you, love. I'm not going anywhere." John said, his voice low and comforting in her ear.
"Thank you, J." Gemma whispered back.
************************************************************************
John cooked her breakfast at her flat the morning of her flight, attempting to settle her nerves before he drove her to the airport. She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the muscles in his back move as he flipped a pancake, his bare skin both tempting and comforting to her.
"One order of American pancakes for my favorite American girl." John said with a cheeky smile, turning to hand her a plate piled with pancakes and bacon.
"I sincerely hope my favorite Brummie boy is going to help me, cause there is no way I can eat all of this." Gemma replied with a laugh.
John picked up two forks and followed Gemma into the lounge, both of them sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. He let her take the first bite of pancakes, her eyes lighting up.
"These are really good, J. Best batch yet."
"I've been practicing on Finn, but I think he's had his fill."
John watched Gemma laugh again and put his hand on her bare thigh, taking in the feel of her warm skin under his hand. She continued eating but gave him a naughty look, her eyes focusing on his bare chest while she took another bite.
"We should plan a trip to New York sometime, I'd love to take you there." Gemma said.
"Tell me when and where and I'm there, darlin'." John replied.
Gemma nodded and thought to herself about how easy it was, to mention a trip to John and know that he would be interested. That she knew he would go anywhere she asked him to.
An hour later, John sat on the bed as Gemma paced back and forth across the room, packing last minute items that she needed. A familiar item of clothing was in her hand and he couldn't help but tease her.
"Is that my hoodie that you're putting on right now?" John joked.
"It absolutely is, and it is absolutely coming with me." Gemma replied, looking over at him.
John reached out and pulled her between his legs, his hands running up underneath the tank top she had on below the hoodie. He felt her shiver as he touched just below her bra, and he grinned deviously.
"Not fair for you to do this to me right before I leave.” Gemma mumbled into his shoulder.
"Can't help myself. I won't be able to touch you for several days."
John watched with satisfaction as Gemma looked down at him, her desire for him so easy to read. She put a hand against his face, eyes locking for a moment before she kissed his cheek and then put her lips just below his ear.
"I'm all about reunion sex." She whispered against his neck.
John burst out laughing and she smiled, sinking into him further. Her fingers ran across the chain he wore, closing her eyes as she memorized the sound of his laugh. The smell of his cologne drifting over her. The feel of the chain against his skin.
A few hours later, John stood with Gemma in the departures entrance at the Birmingham Airport. He had the handle of her suitcase in his right hand and rubbed her back gently with his left, watching patiently as she pulled out her passport. He was determined to remain calm, even though the thought of Gemma flying across the Atlantic was enough to send him into a panic spiral. She will be fine, he thought to himself.
“Have everything?” John asked quietly, pulling her into a hug.
“Hope so. Everything but you.” Gemma replied, looking up at John, her eyes flickering with worry.
“It’s going to be fine, Gems. Promise ya. Let me know when you get on the plane and when you land, ok?”
“Of course. I love you, John.”
“I love you, too.”
John leaned down and kissed Gemma quickly before hugging her one more time. He pulled back and reached up to his neck, unclasping the chain he always wore. Gemma watched as he pulled it out from his shirt and draped it around her neck, moving her hair gently to the side. She put her fingers up to the chain and then touched John’s cheek as he looked down at her.
“So you know that I’m always with you, love.” John whispered.
Gemma smiled and wrapped her arms around his middle, her head resting against his chest as he slowly rocked her back and forth for a few minutes. Finally, she sighed and stepped back, taking the handle of her suitcase from him.
“Check the front pocket of your carry on, but only when you get on the plane. Left you a surprise. I’ll see you soon, Gemma.” John said with a smile.
“I’ll see you soon, J.” Gemma replied. They’d agreed to not ever say goodbye.
John watched and waited until Gemma was to the front of the security line, he could just barely see her over the crowds of travelers. He took a deep breath and turned to go back to the parking lot, where he would sit until he knew Gemma was on the plane. And then it was off to The Garrison, to occupy himself until she safely landed in New York.
Gemma had kept her word and didn’t look in the front pocket of her carry on until she got on the plane. She unzipped the pocket and found a bag of her favorite British snacks with a note from John.
In case you need a reminder of Birmingham. Or get hangry. Maybe both? I love you. - John
She smiled at the note, touching the chain around her neck. It was the most John thing in the world, to sneak a bag of snacks in her bag and write a cute note with it. He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner. The complete opposite of Nick Stanton, in every possible way. And yet, she could hear his voice from across the Atlantic. She could only hope that she would hear John’s voice even more loudly once she was back in New York. Back with the only guy who she'd ever really loved before John Shelby came into her life.
#john shelby#modern john shelby#john shelby fanfic#joe cole#john shelby imagine#modern peaky blinders#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders#electric
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Not a Chance
Pairing: fem!reader x John Shelby
Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, mild description of violence (against you), being attacked
Word Count: 5.9K
Summary: When one of the infamous Shelby brothers decides you'd caught his eye, you answer his advances with the same thing every time. Not a chance. One fateful late-night throws you closer to the Small Heath bad boy than you ever thought you'd get.
A/N: Wow, look at that word count. IDK what came over me but I started writing and then I just didn't stop. This is my favourite that I've written for Non-Stop August so far, by far.
If anyone has any requests send 'em on in and I just might be able to find a place to slip it in this month.
With a smile on your face you hand the brown paper bag with the delicately folded edge over to Mrs Murphy, careful to pass it to her with the bottom flat and unmoving, lest the cream on top of the bun should get flattened.
“Husband still has no clue?” You tease as you accept her few coins in your outstretched hand.
“I have it down to a fine art. Eat it in the alley just before the turn off to my street and dump the wrapper in the neighbour’s bin. It's full proof.” You laugh along with her, the kind of laughter that two women who share a secret from the men around them allow, before waving her off as the bell above the door loudly exclaims her exit.
It was near on closing so the small bakery only boasted a couple of customers whose chittering about which type of bread to accompany their dinners filled the shop. You decide to get a head start on your nightly routine, changing the prices on the small pieces of whiteboard to reflect your end of day urge to get the last few stragglers of baked goods sold.
The bell above the door chimes again when your back was turned to the door. The store quiets to a complete still, before scurried feet and the bell going again tells you of your previous customers hurried escape. You sigh, closing your eyelids firmly before turning around, knowing exactly the only people that could have that effect on your patrons.
“You know John,” you start, turning around to face not only the one Shelby you were imagining, but two in the shape of John and Arthur, “Mr Mooney would be outraged if he knew you were coming in here and scaring off his customers. Any more of that carry on and he might not be able to keep the shop open.”
Your level stare at the men did nothing but bring a grin to the already smirking face of John Shelby, the toothpick in his mouth lolling to the side at the movement.
“C’mon darl,” he held out his hands by his side in an exaggerated shrug, “when have you ever known me not to be a generous customer?” Arthur had distracted himself with looking around, clearly having been dragged in here on their way to wherever they were actually supposed to be.
“Well hurry up then, what is it you want tonight?” Your urging makes John raise a hand to his chest, clutching at his heart as if wounded.
“Did you hear that Arthur?” John asks all but rhetorically, as Arthur pays his younger brothers’ antics no mind. “What is it you want,” John mimics, “you can tell Mr Mooney that if there’s any dip in sales it’s from how his shop lady talks to the customers.”
John places both of his hands against the front of the counter, leaning slightly towards you. Your eyes stray to the toothpick hanging out of his mouth, noting to yourself that you had seen him with it more often than without. John mistakenly thinking that you were looking at his lips shoots you a wink, making you take a step back from the counter.
“You want customer service?” You question, clearing your throat with a dramatic cough and leveling him with the best fake smile you could muster. “Good evening gentlemen and welcome to Mooney’s Morsels. Now unfortunately we are running low in stock, but if I can divert your attention to the front cabinet, you’ll see you’re lucky enough for there still to be a selection left to sample.” Your voice is both jovial and dead at the same time as you wave your hands illustriously across the very few items remaining for the day, making a spectacle of yourself to prove a point.
“Well, I liked that one much better myself.” You let out a small tsk at the older Shelby who had spoken up from the back of the shop, but not daring to push your luck the same way that you did with John, lacking the same familiarity.
John from his still leant position at your counter lifts up a hand and lazily wiggles a finger at you, gesturing for you to come closer. You comply and rest both of your elbows on your own side of the counter, placing your chin in your hands so you can gaze at him with the set of fake puppy dog eyes you were sporting.
Even though John knew that you were only teasing, your proximity and hunched posture meant that you were close enough that he had to look down at you, your eyes piercing through his chest without you so much as trying. The smell of freshly milled flour from your apron drifted pleasantly up his nose as he allowed himself a moments pause to take you in before continuing.
“You better listen up darl, cause this is a one time offer,” he said, accentuating the word ‘one’ by raising up a singular finger in front of your face before swiftly tapping you on the nose with it, “I’m going to buy every last thing left in this shop.” Your nose relaxed from its scrunched position and the hand you’d just used to swat John’s away stilled at your side. If John bought everything that would mean that you’d get to skip off home early, maybe even be able to have a cup of tea with your mother before you’d both start on dinner.
“But as a reward you have to come for a drink at the Garrison with me. Whaddya say?” He drums his fingers a few times before standing up to his full height, face smug as if he’d just given you an offer you simply couldn’t refuse.
Although for a second you had forgotten that you were talking to John Shelby, the brief prospect of heading home early being snatched away from you as soon as it was offered had you deflating. Not that you’d show it to the men. Instead, you make a show of tapping your chin with a set of your fingers from your still leant position, giving the appearance of genuinely thinking about the offer. You abruptly stood up, a clear sign that you had made your decision, much to John’s initial delight.
“Not a chance Johnny boy.” Arthur chuckles from behind his younger brother, prompting a glare to be sent his way. “Now if you’re not actually going to buy anything can you get out of the shop, you’re scaring everyone away.”
“We’re not doing anything.”
“I think you know as well as I do that you don’t have to.” John rolls his eyes in annoyance, but even he can’t deny the truth in your words.
Arthur clearly fed up with the whole charade his brother had just made him endure purchases a loaf of ciabatta, you happily wrapping it up for him. He hands you his payment but refuses to accept his change once you offered it to him, stating that you could keep it for the trouble. You smile and accept it gratefully, wishing the gentlemen a pleasant evening as Arthur leads John out of the shop by the elbow. Once outside the younger brother shakes off his brother’s hand in irritation, following Arthur down the street and only breaking eye contact with you once he leaves the line of sight of the shop window.
You release a sigh once he was out of view, your chest feeling less constricted by the action. You really thought the Shelby boy would’ve given up well before now.
You’d shifted to Small Heath with your mother and two younger siblings 8 months ago, and 8 months ago you’d caught the eye of John Shelby after your first day working in the bakery.
“You watch out for that lot,” the cheerful Mr Mooney had warned you after seeing the three Shelby boys crossing the street en route to the shop, “those Shelby boys are mixed up in all the wrong things, nothin’ but trouble.”
Although you had appreciated the older man’s fatherly advice, you didn’t need it. You could see it for yourself. People parted ways to make room for them on the street, either avoiding eye contact or giving a pleasant and rushed greeting. They walked with an authority that said how unafraid of everyone and everything they were, that was all you had needed to see to have each of them pegged.
You’d never met the men, but you knew them before they had even stepped a foot through the bakery door. You’d grown up around men like them. Your mother had dated men like them, your brother had hung around with men like they before you shifted. They were trouble with a capital ‘T’, and you may have been the only woman in all of Small Heath to have not been glad to have caught trouble’s eye.
The propositions hadn’t started on that first day, but by later that same week they had started and had ceased to stop since. Every time John asked you out it went the exact same way.
“Let me take you out to dinner.”
“Not a chance.”
“Lets go cruising, just the two of us.”
“Not a chance.”
“There’s a new club opened, I bet we’d look good together on the dancefloor.”
“Not a chance Shelby.”
No matter how many different ways he invented to ask you, your answer was always the same. Not a chance.
You’d have thought that by now the youngest Shelby would’ve gotten bored, having gathered from the gossip around Small Heath that he was the most restless of the three. Week after week you were proven wrong, as the bell dinged before his cocky smile was staring right at you.
How many more times was it going to take before trouble stopped knocking on your door?
Having not been able to close early for the night, you flip the battered sign hanging in the door to closed before locking the front door after you. If anybody was following you home, they’d have been surprised to see you turning off on a street several before your own. If they’d been following you for any good period of time though, they’d know this was a weekly stop.
You rap on a beaten down, shabby red door, before a frazzled mother, whose appearances very much matched her front door, yanked it open. Her annoyed expression softened when she saw it was you. You exchanged pleasantries briefly before you handed over a tote bag containing what few loaves had been left at the end of the day.
“You’re sure you’re not going to get in trouble for this?” Mrs Hawley queried as a handful of her many children raced down the hallway behind her.
“Mooney would have to know to care.” You say with a reassuring pat to her shoulder. You say your goodbyes after she thanks you profusely before your head to your final stop of the night.
The house was quiet as it usually was during the evenings, your mother being an advocate for making both your younger siblings read for an hour or two before dinner. Her reading skills were poor at best, and although she couldn’t afford a good education for your brother and sister, she did what little was in her power to do.
You prepared dinner in almost complete silence, with you humming out a few notes of a song you had caught out of the window of a passing car on your way home.
“Shelley said she saw those Shelby boys in the bakery again today.” Although you liked little old Shelley Wickham that lived in the apartment across the road and up a storey from the bakery, you were sure that your mother had had ulterior motives in befriending her.
“Yes, they were mum.” You sigh out, ready for yet another lecture about the dangerous brothers three.
“I just want you to be-”
“Careful. Yes I know.” You interrupt, earning you a displeased scowl in return. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. That John Shelby couldn’t tempt me if he offered us a gold adorned mansion to live in.” You continued cooking in silence, your mother sufficiently calmed for the evening.
“Now dear even I’d be tempted by a gold mansion.” The joking lilt in her voice has you both dissolving into giggles, you nudging her with your elbow lovingly, glad that you had been able to ease your mothers mind. If only for one more night.
*****
You were watching the clock tick down. It had been one of those kinds of days. You closed your doors at 4, meaning you only had 20 minutes until you were allowed to lock the doors. Mr Mooney had told you that he was really needing the bread stoves cleaned after your shift, and you were only too happy to accept the paid overtime, him telling you to take as long as you needed before leaving for the day.
The bell above the door dinged, forcing a smile onto yourself after you allowed yourself a grimace. before turning your focus to the customer. You immediately allowed the smile to fall off of your face when you saw it was only John Shelby.
“I’m not in the mood tonight John, okay? Can you just head on down to the Garrison like you usually do and find someone there to annoy.”
“Woah woah woah there darl. Is it really too much to ask for to get a look at that pretty face of yours before I drink away my sorrows after you shoot me down again?” That signature grin adorned his face, but you weren’t in the mood for playing games, leaving the frown firmly upon your lips.
“You know you could just skip out the whole middle bit and head to the Garrison to drink happily with the knowledge that you haven’t been rejected in one whole day.” You add a sarcastic tight-lipped smile to the end of your sentence, which only spread his own. He looked up to the clock on the wall before speaking.
“Your shift ends in 15, how about I wait here then walk you down to the Garrison with me for a drink? I swear I’ll be the total gentleman. I won’t even give you a goodnight kiss, even when ask for one.” You opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you before you got the chance. “Let me guess? Not a chance.” He says, raising his voice slightly in a very poor imitation of you that you find yourself letting out a small laugh at. Much to your annoyance.
“You got better plans tonight then darl?”
“If you must know actually my plans are over time here cleaning the ovens before having a cup of tea with my mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You add the last part when it looked as though John were about to launch into a speech about how much more fun your night would be if you spent it with him instead.
“Over time on a Friday? How are you getting home?” He asks with a genuine concern that has you hesitating.
“Walking like usual.” John was very clearly unhappy with that answer, shaking his head back and forth at you, toothpick swaying on his lips.
“No. I’ll come and give you a lift.”
“After drinks at the Garrison? I don’t think so.” You scoff out.
“Then I’ll come and walk you home. Final offer, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” You glance at the clock, seeing that closing was rapidly approaching. All you wanted to do was to get started on that oven, so you did something that you hoped you wouldn’t regret.
“Alright fine.” You said yes to John Shelby. The smile on his face makes you wish you could take your answer back, but you can’t unsay what’s been said. And you can’t un-feel the butterflies that knock about your stomach as you usher him out the front door, him placing a kiss upon your hand before you snatch it back and lock the door.
You find that you put more elbow grease into the furnace than what was strictly necessary in an effort to rid your thoughts of John. You’d dip your brush into the bucket and there he would be, grinning down at you. You’d pick at a stubborn spot and you’d feel his lips upon your hand, soft and warm. You’d get fresh sudsy water and you’d be able to feel his breath upon your face.
You startle out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the glass in the front of the store. You race out of the back room to find two drunken men drawn by the light still on in the shop knocking at the glass and trying the door knob.
“We’re closed. Better move along.” You say, pointing at the hanging closed sign as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. One of the men you recognise from down the street to you, so you address him when the men do not immediately move on. “Mr Hawley, won’t your wife and kids be waiting for you?” You question with a steel gaze that has the addressed man’s lip curling up in rage.
“What’s it to ya?’ He slurs out at you, his companion trying the door for what would have to have been the fifth time since you’d been standing there.
“Absolutely nothing to me, but I’m sure it’s something to your wife and kids.” Graham Hawley stares right back at you with an intent that has shivers racing up along your spine before it settles back in the pit of your stomach.
With his friend still leering and trying the door beside him, Graham grabs him by the collar and pulls him off out of view down the street. You only hope that he was off to his family and not off to find more alcohol.
Your work takes about another hour before you’re satisfied with how the oven came up. Even with the strain that runs across your back and the aching neck you acquired in the process, you turn the lights in the bakery off with a smile, opening and locking the door behind you.
The feeling that comes over you when you realise that John Shelby was not waiting for you has you scrunching up your nose in disgust. Funny how he could have that effect on you without even being in your presence. Usually of course, you were screwing up your nose for entirely different reasons, but for the sake of your sanity you were ignoring that you were disappointed that he hadn’t shown up.
Despite yourself. you find that you linger at the door far longer than necessary. You double check the door and cup your eyes against the glass to see that all the lights were turned off, even though it was plain that they were. With a defeated sigh you give up and start making your way down the cobblestones.
As you usually finished much earlier in the day you were shocked by the calm that the night brought, how cobblestones slick with water and oil from passing cars sparkled under the dim street lights.
For a moment, you pause in your steps, straining to hear into the distance. You start your steps again slowly, but cease them almost immediately after, catching the this time unmistakable sound of steps following behind you. You turn and assess the street, shaking your head at yourself when you realise that there was no one in sight. If you’d have realised you were this prone to paranoia you’d have been counting your lucky stars much earlier than this that your shifts usually ended so early in the day.
Suddenly a hand is thrown over your mouth. Fat, sweaty fingers make screaming an impossibility as the accompanying arm is firmly latched around your waist, pulling you into the darkness of a nearby alley. Your head is slammed forcefully against the brick of the wall, making you see stars as you desperately try to blink them away.
When you get reoriented you see that the figure holding you against the wall is Graham Hawley, his friend hanging just slightly to your left in the shadows.
“You think you’re some real high and mighty bitch, huh? Think you can tell me when I should be getting home and when I shouldn’t?” Your reply is slapped from your mouth as Graham’s hand left your mouth long enough to smack it hard against your cheek before returning its stifling grip on your mouth.
“Think we’re some charity case, is that it? Bringing over what scraps of bread nobody else wanted like I can’t provide for my own family.” Your words of denial can’t make it past the drunken man’s fingers, and you feel tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you fight to be heard, by him or anyone else that may have been passing.
“C’mon man, we better go.” His friend pipes up, making you nod your head as vigorously as you could against the cold brick, muffled sounds of approval puffing past his heavy fingers. The tears begin to fall down your cheeks, slowly at first, when a sadistic grin spreads across your aggravators face.
“Go?”, he questions to his friend, “I haven’t even gotten to teach this bitch a lesson yet.” He releases the arm around your waist, replacing the pressure there with his beefy torso, as he rears back his fist to the increasing volume of your muffled screams. You close your eyes with ragged breaths, awaiting the feeling of your nose crunching and your skull hitting the wall.
“Let her go.” A new voice joins the fray and the tears freely pour across your cheeks and onto Graham’s fingers when you see John Shelby’s silhouette, illuminated by the street light.
“What did you say, boy?”
“I said, let. Her. Go.” You’d never truly understood the fear the gripped the chests of Small Heath at the sight of the Shelby’s, but John’s clipped, authoritative words had the blood in your veins stilling.
The reaction it has upon the men is instant, with his friend tugging at his sleeve and begging to go, while Graham’s hold on you lessened ever so slightly. Still clearly high on the liquid courage he’d imbibed in he doesn’t relent, shaking off his friend and trying to match John’s stare.
“And what if I don’t? You gonna get your brother to deal to me?” Wordlessly, John reaches up and removes the flat cap from his head, holding the brim between his fingers so the light could catch at the metal hidden within its seams.
“No. I’m gonna deal to you.” Graham’s friend had taken more than enough for the two of them, letting out a frantic ‘lets go’ as he this time successfully pulled on his friends arm, sending the two of them peeling down the alley and into the next street over. Out of your sight but not your mind.
John has you held in his arms before you’d even realised your knees had given out, catching you and keeping you on your feet. He says your name softly once, then when it garnered no response he says it again. His voice was still soft, but the urgency that was laced in the letters were enough to pull your teary eyes to his face.
“Are you okay?” It was a loaded question. Physically, you would be okay. The implications of the evening hadn’t set in for you yet though, the adrenaline wearing off making your knees tremble and your hands shake from their position clutching the fabric of his tweed jacket.
“Lets get you home darl, c’mon.”
“No.” The panic in that one word has John’s brow stitched together until you repeat yourself. “No, I can’t have my mother seeing me like this. She can’t know this happened.” Your mother would never allow you to take any more over time if she found out about this fiasco, and as much as you were shaking like a leaf and incapable of pulling a steady breath into your lungs, your family were in no position to be turning down any extra hours.
John nods at you, seeming to understand everything you were thinking in that small, panicked sentence you were able to muster. Without another word he places a gentle arm around your waist so your sides were flat together, and he delicately places the arm not desperately clinging to his own around the back of his neck.
You successfully place one foot in front of the other as you lean on the support you hadn’t known you needed until it was given. John leads you down the street and although you have no idea where you’re going, with his small muttered words of encouragement you diligently follow his lead. In that moment you’d have followed John Shelby anywhere.
Seemingly out of the blue John stops at a nondescript door, pulling a key out of one of his many pockets and letting you both inside. He places you down on a plush red lined sofa, leaving your side only long enough to light the fire in the room and start the kettle before he’s back by your side with a rag and an unlabelled clear bottle.
With a movement of his head, he motions for you to turn around. You do so obligingly, offering him up the now pounding area on the back of your skull that had collided with the wall. You feel his fingers gently graze over the area, a hiss escaping your lips when he places a tad too much pressure on the centre of the point of pain.
“This is going to hurt.” The popping of a cork has you turning your head slightly to see John pouring the liquid all over the rag. Re-corking the bottle, you face your head forward, nodding for John to continue.
John hadn’t been lying about it hurting, a pained yelp running over your lips as the stinging in the back of your head takes over your senses. You reach out behind your back, fumbling for something to ground you, when a soft hand if offered up to you. You take it and squeeze out of pure reaction alone, finding that tethering yourself to John made it easier to ignore the pain. The more he patted the less it hurt until your breaths were coming in long and slow for the first time since you left the shop.
John clearing his throat makes you realise that you hadn’t felt a pat to the back of your head in a while. Keeping his mooring hand in yours you shuffle around to face him, your feet firmly planted to the ground with your body facing his, while one of his legs was tucked underneath him, allowing him to be facing you completely.
“It’ll sting for the next few days, but you’ll be alright.” You nod in understanding, not knowing what to say or how to even start on how grateful you felt that he had been there.
“How does the rest of me look, like I’ve been in a scuffle?” You ask with a humorous lilt to your voice. John quickly assesses your tear stained face with his eyes, smiling when it was done.
“Your cheek is a bit red,” he reaches up his spare hand and gently places it on your cheek, allowing his thumb to move back and forth in a feather light caress, “but that’ll be gone by the time you get home.” Seeing the brief panic flash in your eyes his reassures you, “I promise darl.”
Despite yourself you feel a smile form on your face. Whether it was John’s calming reassurances or his hand on your cheek while the other was still clutched firmly in your own, you didn’t know.
But what you were suddenly very sure of was John’s eyes had never looked bluer than they did right now, and his face never looked more handsome than when he looked at you with firelight dancing along his features.
You felt yourself getting overwhelmed the longer your eyes stayed on his face until your lip was trembling and your eyes were stinging with tears once again.
John pulled you in to him, resting one arm around your shoulders while one hand went to the back of your head, carefully avoiding your injured spot as he pulled you down so your face was resting against his firm chest when the first sob was pulled from your body.
He held you against him as you continued to cry. His fingers danced across your hair as he rocked you back and forth, shushes leaving his mouth with your name and softly spoken ‘it’ll be okays’ scattered throughout.
Your sobs died, as did John’s shushes, until you were acutely aware that you were being held in the safest arms you’ve ever been in. You allow yourself to pull back just enough to let you look up at John’s face and suddenly your breath was gone as his eyes met yours. You were speechless, swallowed whole by John’s tenderness and beckoning lips that seemed to be coming closer to yours with every punctuated beat of your heart.
The kettle whistling loudly in the background pries you both from your daze and has you clearing your throat to fill in the previous sound of your quiet, drawn-out breaths. With a small smile John is leaving you, pottering around in the kitchen until a cup of steaming coffee is in your hands and a much more respectable distance is between you both, one of his legs now resting over the other.
You take a careful sip of the offered drink, screwing up your nose to John’s short laughter when you realise that it was spiked.
“You needed something to take the edge off.” In any other circumstances you’d have been making yourself a new drink and chiding John for the cheek, but right now you gratefully accepted the warmth the hidden Whiskey offered you as you continued to sip.
You sat in contented silence, sipping lightly on your drink as John kept a weathered eye on you in between looking around the room and twiddling his thumbs.
“John?” His elbows now resting on his knees, his head in hands. He turns to look at you, giving you a small, genuine smile to encourage you on. “If you hadn’t of gotten there-”
“I should have been there sooner.” He bit out, throwing his back into the couch as he rubs a hand down the length of his face. “If I hadn’t agreed to one more drink-”
“I don’t want to hear that.” You cut off, making him look at you as you continued. “You were there when it mattered. And I don’t think I can ever repay you for that.” He smiles at you and you think it may have been the first one you’d seen that didn’t have some cheek or devilishness hiding just below the surface. You could feel your heart falter as you gave him a smile back, hoping that it conveyed all the thankfulness and warmth that had crept into your ribcage since he’d sat across from you.
“Can I ask you a question?” You all but whisper, nervously looking down into your nearly empty coffee cup before looking back into John’s face. He gives you a quick, singular nod, that genuine smile still planted on his lips. “Why do you keep asking me out every day?” He scoffs at you, shaking his head and looking at you incredulously, clearly in wonder that that was what had been so pressing you’d been nervous to say it. After everything that had happened.
“I mean it John. I’ve shot you down more times than I can count, and you come back in everyday as if the last didn’t happen. Am I that much of a pretty face?” You add cheekily, making him laugh at the memory of his words earlier that evening.
“You definitely are that much of a pretty face.” The cheek returns to his smile briefly before it flattens out into a more serious expression. “But you’re also the girl that takes the leftovers to the family that needs it, but definitely doesn’t deserve it.” Your cheeks heat in time with the prickles that raise the hairs on the back of your neck as you bashfully look into your lap before having the nerve to meet John’s piercing gaze. “And you’re the girl that takes over time because she knows her family needs it.” Your breathing halts before a tiny mangled, squeak sounds in the back of your throat.
All this time you thought that John had only been interested in you, the pretty faced bakery girl that wouldn’t give him the time of day when every other girl would. Little did you know he wanted you. All of you. He had really seen you, and maybe if you’d have afforded him the time of day you could’ve really seen him too, for who he really is. A younger sibling who loved his family, with a cheeky smile that hid a heart of gold.
“Speaking of family’s darl, if we don’t get you home soon yours is going to start a search party.” He accentuates his sentence with as playful rap of his knuckles on your knee. You grin before you down the little contents that remain in the mug and hover at the front door as John extinguishes the fire and locks up the house.
The walk to yours was quiet, no words needing spoken between you as you simply exist in each other’s company. Without warning you gently snake your hand into the crook of his elbow which he gladly accepts wordlessly.
You hadn’t realised how close you had been to your house before, or maybe the walk felt too short because you weren’t ready to leave John Shelby alone for the night. You both huff in unison as you stare at your door, both of you knowing you had to cross the threshold but neither of you wanting to separate from the other.
John softly spoke your name, making you slowly tilt your head to catch his gaze. His eyes flick between yours as he subconsciously licks his lips in thought.
“I know how you can make it up to me.” The light lilt in his voice let you know that he was joking and he didn’t actually expect payment for playing the hero. You nod anyway, happy to play along. “Go a date with me. A proper one, to a restaurant.” You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at John’s serious expression, as he seems genuinely concerned at what your answer could be. You stare at him in silence once your laughter had died, but the smile he had elicited stayed firmly in its place.
With a squeeze to his bicep, you lean in and place a lingering kiss on his cheek, reaching up onto your tiptoes to whisper into his ear.
“Do you think I’d miss it for the world?” You place your feet flat on the ground, reaching over to open your door and leave him in the night as you speak.
“Not a chance, John Shelby.”
#john shelby x reader#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders reader insert#john shelby reader insert#peaky blinders fanfic#john shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#john shelby fanfic#john shelby one shot#peaky blinder one shot#non-stop august#too many baes#too many baes non-stop august#no y/n#writing#mine
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Bonjour daddy 😉 can I request the peaky boys with cuddling? Like who’s the big spoon, which positions who’s the most cuddly etc.. me has gotten her period so I’m feeling all 🙍🏼♀️
Hahaha a total side note, i made that same joke to b and he just smirked like, if thats what you'd like to believe I won't ruin ur moment haha
Tommy
🌿 Is very big on the standing up cuddle, opening his arms up to you and holding you nice and snug against his body, wrapping his arms right around you, one hand stroking through your hair or cradling the back of your head.
🌿Will rest his chin on top of yours, kiss your parting and close his eyes, breathing in your scent
🌿Is a very doomed man and is always lowkey aware that every hug could be the last time he gets to hold his angel so every hug is savoured. He focuses on memorising exactly how he feels in the moment he's holding you, every detail filed away in his memory.
🌿He likes to be big spoon, but more than that he likes to lie on his back with your body on top of his.
🌿Drawing patterns down your back quietly, again trying to remember every detail. Obsessed with the sensation of your light restful breaths tickling his bare chest
🌿Loves the skin on skin feeling, always chasing purity in love and it makes him feel so connected to you, so intimate.
🌿 When you're on your period he recognises the change in your temper and is very careful with you, he will try not to snap at you or show any sign of irritation because he's aware how easily wounded you are... He makes sure to hug you and hold you even more than usual
🌿Modern! Tommy would make sure you had a hot waterbottle and all the blankets you needed, get you cosy in bed or on the sofa in front of the tv to watch your favourite movie. He'll humour whatever trash you want to watch and lie there behind you, kissing you and playing with your hair, more focussed on you than the tv.
Alfie
🐻 Big spoon always because he just wants to hold you, wants to be able to put his hands wherever he likes.
🐻 Likes to hold you in sexual places in a non-sexual way. What I mean by this is that if you're little spoon he'll hold one of your breasts in his hand, but just that, simply holding it just because he can... And not because he wants anything more than just to hold you
🐻 Also likes to tickle you on purpose with his beard, his stubble brushing your cheek or your neck, making you giggle and squirm rousing you from your sleep for just long enough he can ask for a kiss.
🐻 His favourite place to cuddle with you however is in a rocking chair by the fire, you bundled up in his lap under a blanket, him holding you safe and snug, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. You're the most precious thing in the world to him so he likes to have you bundled up in his arms at any opportunity.
🐻 You could be busy around the house talking to him about your day or mithering and worrying, or asking him about business and he will refuse to talk to you about any of it until you've gone and sat down in his lap. He'll pat his thigh and open his arms for you, "now now zieskiet, whatve I told you eh, if you're gonna come home talkin me poor old ears off about that nonsense you've at least got to let me hold my little girl whilst I listen eh... Take pity on your old man yeah poppet?"
🐻 Very possesive, can't keep his hands off you ever so when you're cuddling he's constantly rubbing his palms over your arms, or holding your thigh, always doing little things to let you know he's there, that youre all his and he's got you.
🐻 Gives big squeezy bear hugs holds onto you so tight, keeps your face burried into his chest, blocks out the rest of the world so that all you can feel his him all around you.
🐻 Alfie's too old to be immature about your period and if anything he feels a little sorry for you, he doesnt like that he can't do much to help you but he always makes sure he's very gentle with you. Even more doting than usual.
🐻 Gives the best belly rubs, like he ubderstands that you need to do more than just rub your hands lightly over your tummy. He'll rub his hands together to heat them up first and then gently massage you until you're feeling a little better.
🐻 Modern Alfie wouldn't be embarrassed about going to shops to get your pads but he also wouldn't be going... He'd be sending Ollie so that you and him could have a good laugh at Ollie expense.
Arthur
🍂 Doesn't realise until one day you climb into bed after him and make yourself big spoon, wrapping your body around his, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing down the bumps of his spine, kissing his shoulder too, but he loves being little spoon.
🍂 It makes him feel so safe and loved, makes him feel cherished which is a very new feeling for him, not one he's ever experienced in adult life.
🍂 He loves being able to close his eyes and feel your fingers scratching and massaging his head. You like stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw where his stubble is.
🍂 He doesnt admit that he loves this for a long time though, and you never ask about it because you know that if you do he'll get embarassed and deny it and then potentially never let you hold him again.
🍂Feels almost ashamed that he likes it because he's the man, so isn't he supposed to be the one making you feel loved and cherished and safe?
🍂 Blushes when you prop yourself up on your elbow looking down at him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
🍂Will fall asleepy like that so quickly because its the safest he's ever felt.
🍂 He will however insist upon being big spoon at certain times of the month or when youre feeling unwell. He won't know how to deal with your period at all, he'll only know that youre more argumentative and that he has to be careful not to start a fight with you...
🍂 Doesnt like seeing you cry and you cry at everything when youre on your period so he will spend a lot of time hugging you close to him so that no one can see your tears. Leaves those long held kisses in your hair and you feel protected by him for as long as his lips remain pressed to your head.
🍂 Modern Arthur definitely gets embarassed about having to go to the shops for period pads, like, he definitely panics doesnt know what to buy, goes red, feels like he has to say something at the till even though he really doesn't need to.
John
🌼 Favourite way to cuddle you is to start by tackling you to the ground, play fighting or tickling you. Its like he can't just ask for a hug he has to play a game or trick you into it first...
🌼 Because he loves holding you and cuddling you and he loves kissing you too but he doesn't really know how to persue non-sexual affection without laughing it off and being unserious? The boy just wants a cuddle with his flower but he doesn't know how to ask because cuddling is "soft"
🌼 Definitely big spoon. Similar to Alfie, likes to have possesion of you, when youre wrapped up in his arms youre completely at his mercy and he can do whatever he likes to/with you.
🌼 Loves to tickle you and feel how with nowhere else to go you scramble and squirm further into his hold. And if he makes you jump even better because they you flinch and reach for something to hold onto, so you end up gripping his shirt or throwing your arms around his neck and clinging onto him just the way he likes it.
🌼 Isn't very good at tummy rubs alas, but thats because he can't get his head around the idea that pressing on your tummy when its sore, will help make you feel better "won't that just hurt more?"
🌼 Gives you lots of kisses though, will try to tease and tickle you to make you laugh and smile to distract you from the pain. I guess his cuddle style is playful.
🌼 Loves a naked skin to skin cuddle the best, likes to hold your bare body in his arms and draw patterns all over your skin as you fall asleep.
🌼 Lets you bite him very gently on the shoulder mid hug (one for the girls if u know u know)
🌼 9 times out of 10 cuddles with John lead elsewhere... Like, cuddling definitely puts john in a certain kinda mood
🌼 Oh you just wanted a nice sleepy cuddle? It might start off that way but after a minute or two of having his body pressed up against yours his minds wandered to... Places
🌼 Definitely does stuff like "got ur nose" just as you're drifting off and relaxing.
🌼 Surprisingly serious about your period, perhaps he wouldn't have been once, as a younger lad he'd have teased you or told you off for even telling him about that.
🌼 But he's a man now and he firmly believes real men need to take care of their woman, so he'll make sure you have everything you need. Will pretend to be embarrassed about having to go to the shops to get your period pads or whatever but actually doesn't care at all. He's only teasing you, trying to make you laugh at him by pretending to get really flustered about it.
🌼 His favourite thing to do is pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and then throw you down on the bed to cuddle you.
Bonnie
🍀 The cuddliest sweetheart you can imagine, always finding an excuse to give you a hug, always coming up behind you and making you jump when you're concentrating on something else, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your neck, kiss your shoulder, just rest his chin on your shoulder or have his cheek pressed against yours.
🍀Loves having you sitting in his lap and will always choose a table at the Garrison with not enough seats for everyone so that he has an excuse to pull you into his lap. Really does just like to have a hold on you at all times. Even if you're not talking or interacting in any other way. He just likes to be physically near you.
🍀 Definitely similar to John, play fights, chases around the house/fields always just as an excuse to get his hands on you.
🍀Always pulls you in for a hug when you first see eachother/say hello. Will give you the tightest squeeze and lift you up off your feet.
🍀Loves carrying you, your legs around his waist, you holding onto him nice and tight, dependent on him.
🍀Dreams dreams dreams of the day you've lots of wee kids to cuddle with, the five of you getting huddled up and cosy in mammy and daddys bed for a bedtime story.
🍀When its you and him all cuddled up in bed for the night he likes to either be big spoon or have you asleep on his chest, his hand resting on your back. He often gets worried about the home being broken into or an attack in the middle of the night so he feels most comfortable when you're right there sleeping as close to him as possible. Means he can know you're safe as can be and he can be there to protect you.
🍀Loves naked cuddles, skin on skin, legs tangled, feels so close and warm and intimate and he's so in love with you, so devoted to you that he craves that closeness and only feels complete when he has you in his arms and he can feel your heartbeats sinking up.
🍀Will hold you/spoon you all night!!!! You will wake up wrapped in his arms and if you need to get out of bed for anything in the night sorry but Bonnie will not be letting you go without a fight. Loves to hold your head burried in his chest.
🍀 Probably not phased by your period and if he is he isn't going to show it at all. Doesn't like you being in pain at all and he's very good at giving you back massages and tummy rubs. He also knows that theres another way to help with period pain and he isn't scared of touching you when its your time of the month. (Bonnie and Aberama are the only two peaky men I think would finger you when you're on your period tbh, tommy might but I'm not entirely sure?)
🍀 Modern bonnie sends you a photo of the period aisle at rhe shops because he's confused but determined to get the exact right things for you.
🍀 He's always lowkey dissapointed when you get your period because that means no babies
Isaiah
🐀I think it probably takes him awhile to get particularly cuddly and affectionate. For all I imagine he's a tactile, flirtatious playboy type, I don't think he knows how to just hug it out or have soft sleepy cuddle you know?
🐀You probably initiate most of the cuddles, and he always tries to pull away before you're ready too, so you have to grip him extra tight and put up a fight...
🐀But then he gets a taste for that, feels good how you practically beg him for just a hug... You always ask him "Saiah can I have a hug please?" because unless you tell him you want to be hugged he won't think to do it... But he LOVES hearing you ask for that. "Saiah I wanna hug" when you're tired and whiny. He sometimes denies you just to make you ask again. "Say please love..." "God what am I to you? A fuckin hug dispenser?"
🐀He's always big spoon, because he's a fragile masculinity adolescent... He hasn't grown out of the complex of needing to be the man, so he's always the one cuddling you... He won't ever let anyone think he enjoys all that soft shit...
🐀But when no one is around he's actually very cute and sweet to you. Nose kisses all the time. A secret fan of the penguin kiss (where u rub noses idk?)
🐀I think he learns to be affectionate with you over time and is cuddly but mostly only in private. You have mastered the "hug me" eyes now and if you get them just right and you sit there looking at him like that for long enough he'll say "Right.. You've brought this on yourself y/n" as if you're in serious trouble, then he'll march over and sit himself in your lap squishing and crushing you until you can't breath for laughing. Only then will he give you a proper hug - but the cuddles are worth the torment you have to go through first.
🐀As bad, if not worse than john on the horny cuddler front. Is genuinely so confused about how he's supposed to tangle you up like that, bundled up against his chest so that every part of his body can feel every part of your body pushing against him, and not get turned on... A nice peaceful cuddle can become pretty heated pretty quickly. He'll feign innocence (sometimes he won't and he'll just slip his hand into your underwear and take you buy surprise) all his little caresses and kisses seemingly innocent at first but really, not at all...
🐀When it comes to your period Isaiah pretends he's man enough not to care, he'll screw his face up all "ew no way y/n fuck no..." then crack a grin and make out like he was only teasing you, but secretly he feels really awkward about it and doesn't know what to do. He'll panic at the shop, get annoyed when he buys the wrong thing and you send him back. But he's trying, he wants to be a good boyfriend so over time he'll do his best to learn.
Michael
☘️ Secret cuddler...
☘️ You have to work so hard to get him to trust you but once you secure his trust (once he knows you aren't going to laugh at him or tell his brothers what a sook he is) he will reveal his soft side to you and oh my god is he soft
☘️ He loves cuddling and being cuddled. Bug spoon, little spoon, sitting in an arm chair, picking you up and swirling you round, carrying you to bed for more cuddles, having you lie on his chest, him lying on your chest (secretly his favourite way to cuddle) any cuddling at all, he loves it
☘️ But his favourite is definitely lying with his head to your breast, your hand in his hair maybe giving him head scratches or playing with his hair, your legs closed around his body so that he's completely secure. He could fall asleep here so easily. He loves it. Especially after a hard day at the office or when his cousins are being particularly demanding.
☘️ He loves to cuddle you too, loves being big spoon when you're naked in bed, likes getting to hold you anyway he wants. Your legs tangled together, perhaps one of his hands holding your hands, kissing your shoulder, your neck, between your shoulder blades. He loves waking up in that position after a nap, the two of you nuzzled into one another.
☘️ Isn't awkward about you getting your period as such, he doesnt think its gross but he's very concious of social taboos so if you come right out complaining about period pain or saying that you've accidentally bled on your dress he'll turn such a bright shade of red. You always forget and it always makes you laugh.
☘️ Gets annoyed when you tease him about it
☘️ Is very worried that youre in pain. Worried too that you'll lose too much blood. It takes a lot to explain to him that you're not going to bleed out on your period...
☘️ Tries to dote on you but gets overwhelmed by all the demands and the things you need. Because he's so worried about getting things wrong or upsetting you.
☘️Won't give good tummy rubs or massages because he's too scared he'll hurt you. Will run you a hot bath and wash your hair for you.
#peaky blinders imagines#bonnie gold x reader#tommy shelby x reader#arthur shelby x reader#peaky blinders imagine#john shelby x reader#peaky blinders headcanon#alfie solomons x reader#isaiah jesus x reader#michael gray x reader#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders headcannons
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Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.
Words - 2,742
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is...
“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”
“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!”
“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”
Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!”
You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.”
“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?”
Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.”
“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.
“All alley cats, the lot of ya!”
“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!”
A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat.
He can work a little harder than that.
The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.
“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!”
Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?”
Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.”
“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”
Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?”
You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.
You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.
“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.
You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.”
His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”
The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?”
You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.
You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.
“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.
John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.
“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.
“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.
He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.
He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.
The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.
Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.
The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.
He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head.
Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until...
“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?”
“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.
“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.
“Please what, bab?”
You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”
“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.”
“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.
“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.
His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.
No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”
He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.
His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips.
The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.
“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”
You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.
Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.
You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.
“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him.
“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.
“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”
#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby smut#john shelby x reader#john shelby x you#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fic#joe cole#john shelby#peaky blinders#peaky fucking blinders
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Hello, K!
First, I adore your new theme! It's beautiful!
Then, may I request “Who did this to you?” with John? I'm here for the angst 💔.
Congratulations again, my beloved K!
Flor!! I’m so happy you like my theme change - I felt it was good to bridge the gap between summer and fall. Thanks so much for sending this in! I hope I was able to deliver on the angst without getting to be too cliché! Oh! - also just wanted to say that Ada’s not pregnant in this! Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Part of my 3.5k celebration — check out others!
A Run In With Her Past
John Shelby x Reader
Warnings: mentions of drinking, run in with an ex - who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, language, implications of violence
Word Count: 622
Summary: A night out with Ada ends in injury, making John want to do nothing other than seek out the man that cause (Y/N) harm.
John was working on wiping down the family car when he heard the sound of giggles approaching him. He stopped what he was doing, listening in and wondering if they were coming from who he thought they were.
“John!” came the unmistakeable voice of his partner, (Y/N). It wasn’t long before she and Ada came into view, walking into the garage he’d been working in.
“Where’ve you two been?” John questioned, quirking an eyebrow as he dropped the cloth he’d been using onto the car.
“You’re starting to sound like Tommy now,” Ada commented on her brother’s question, “always wonderin’ where people are,” she added before looking at (Y/N), another round of giggles leaving their lips.
“I think it’s nice that he worries about us, Ada,” (Y/N) stated, moving over to John’s side, draping her arms over his shoulders. “We went to the pub down on Canal Street…where the barman knows us, so we were able to be there.”
“And you enjoyed yourselves it seems?” John couldn’t help but grin as he asked.
“We certainly did,” Ada nodded.
“Missed you there though, Johnny,” (Y/N) leaned in to whisper in his ear, her hands finding the sides of his cheeks then.
“I’m sure you had plenty fun without me,” he responded, his grin growing.
(Y/N) smiled back at him before launching into a story, “you should’ve seen Ada. She was holding her own right up with…”
“What’s this, (Y/N)?” John’s question abruptly stopped (Y/N)’s story before she was able to finish it.
“Huh?” she questioned, turning back from her friend to see that John had his eyes fixed on her right wrist.
“Your wrist,” he pointed to it. She silently cursed herself for talking with her hands so much.
“It’s nothing,” she answered, glancing to Ada for help, only to find her backing out of the garage.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his brows furrowed.
“John…don’t get mad,” (Y/N) started off, sobering up quickly the second she caught the look in his eyes.
“I’m already mad,” he quickly told her.
(Y/N) took a deep breath, re-centering herself before she spoke: “Tony was at the pub. He saw me…”
“Fuck,” John breathed, moving back to the car to brace himself on it, his anger boiling up the second she mentioned her ex.
“He saw me and tried to make a pass at me. I wasn’t having it so he grabbed my wrist and was trying to pull me with him,” she explained more of what happened, watching the anger become prevalent on John’s face. “He was dealt with before anything could happen,” she added in, hoping that that would deter her partner from whatever he was thinking of doing.
“He still hurt you,” John pointed out, pushing himself off the car and taking a few deep breaths to keep his anger in check.
“But he was dealt with,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, but surely not the way I would’ve,” John persisted, his words coming out like a snarl.
“John…”
“Go to the house. Have Pol take a look at it. I’ll be back later, sweetheart,” he gave her instructions, paying no attention to the warning tone in her voice.
His mind had been made up. He was going to deal with this Tony once and for all; make it so that (Y/N) would be able to go anywhere in the city without the fear of running into him.
He pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead before walking passed her, leaving her with no choice but to listen to his instructions and hope that things would pan out the way that he was planning for them to.
Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @valentinabloom @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway
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#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby x y/n#john shelby blurb#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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A Small Favor
John Shelby & Y/n Solomons (Partners in Crime AU)
Summary: Y/n has called John for a small favor…the removal of a dead body from Alfie’s kitchen. Who was the dead man and why was he there in the first place? That might be the biggest surprise of all.
Author’s note: Requested by @darklydeliciousdesires who wanted to know what this duo would do if tasked with disposing of a body. Ty for the wonderful inspo! Also, Rose is an OC belonging to @justrainandcoffee. She is Alfie's wife and an advocate for women. Quick reminder that Y/n is Alfie's sister.
Warnings: language, mention of a dead body and murder, weapons, blood
You sat watching steam rise from a piping hot cup of tea as John paced before you. “I don’t understand,” he said, twisting his cap in his hands.
“What?” you mumbled as you shoved a biscuit into your mouth.
“How did you manage it?” he asked with a note of genuine surprise, though he should have learned by now not to underestimate you.
You only shrugged as he gestured toward the hulking man splayed out before him on Alfie’s kitchen floor.
“Used me knife," you explained in a flat tone.
“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed with a low whistle. John stood over the mangled corpse stroking his chin thoughtfully before gazing back at you with pride. “Carved him up like a Christmas turkey!”
“Serves him right, filthy wanker,” you spat, wiping the crumbs from your lip with a shaky hand.
"Hey, you alright?" John softened momentarily, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.
You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the look of pity you found staring back at you. "You seen the state of him? And you see me?" you gestured toward yourself with a flourish, demanding he acknowledge your victory. When he took a moment too long, you shoved him away. "Course I'm alright," you insisted stubbornly as you settled back into your chair, crossing your arms over your chest.
John let out a long sigh, wishing he'd never asked. Then recalling the trail of overturned furniture and broken glass leading to the kitchen, he changed the subject. "Was he looking for somethin'?" Opening and closing the cupboards as though he might find an answer hidden in the shelves, he called out, "Does Alfie still have that faberge egg?"
“Fuck no!" you vehemently denied. "Sold it ages ago to that toff who wanted it for his dog-faced cunt of a wife. Reckon she eats kibble out of it now or whatever the fuck rich people do."
John snorted out a laugh as he ran a hand down his face. How you could crack a joke at a time like this was beyond all comprehension. Turning back to his search, he opened another door, peering inside with intense scrutiny.
“Dunno what you're expecting to find," you muttered, irritation rising in your throat as you surveyed the room. "Not a sausage...."
John scratched his head as he glanced over his shoulder, “Is that a kosher thing?”
You rolled your eyes before clarifying, “Sausage and mash,” rubbing your thumb against your fingertips. When John still looked at you with a quizzical stare you shouted, “Cash, you daft cunt! If you think Alfie's stupid enough to hide anything of value here, you're a few sandwiches short of a picnic, mate."
He nodded in understanding. “Right, well….don’t matter why that fucker wanted in, we have to get him out.” He stood facing the man in question, removing a toothpick from his pocket and seesawing it between his teeth as he thought.
You quickly grew impatient, eyes darting wildly from the clock on the wall to John’s motionless form. “What are you waiting for? This is your speciality, ain’t it?” you asked in a high squeaky voice, anxious to move things along.
John spun around to face you, “And you’re such a big help sat there like a pudding!” he exclaimed taking a large step to swipe at you before slipping in a pool of the man’s blood.
You raced from the table to catch him, but he was already propelled halfway across the room, finally tumbling over and landing atop the dead man’s barrel chest. “ALLEY CAT!” he roared, face to face with the man’s hideous pallor of death.
Barely containing your laughter, you watched your partner in crime grimace before turning away to suppress a gag. “Smells like cheap whisky and piss,” he proclaimed.
“What do you reckon he smelt like? Bloody roses?” you asked, hoisting him up by the elbow.
John emitted a low growl before brushing himself off. Removing his jacket and tossing it aside, he crossed his arms, mouth twitching anxiously. “Can we get on with it?” he asked with a sigh that sounded like resignation to his fate. “You take one end, I’ll take the other,” he instructed with a nod of his chin.
John began wedging his arms beneath the man's upper body as you took hold of the thick legs which felt like two tree trunks. Hoisting the weight off the floor took a few moments and the body swung precariously between you, grunts and groans passed between you as you struggled to find equilibrium. Eventually you were able to take a few teetering steps backward and out of the kitchen doorway into the hall, but then you realized you didn't know where you were going after that.
“Wait! What’s the plan?” you demanded, knitting your eyebrows in confusion.
John snapped his head toward you, “Are you serious?"
"Well, we can't walk out of the house with him. People will notice," you pointed out.
"Just...keep...going," he instructed through clenched teeth. When you slowed your movements again he warned sternly, "If we stop now, you're going to break my fucking back."
"No...no, I don't like this, Barney," you said, shaking your head.
"You going to fight me the whole way?" he asked, nostrils beginning to flare in frustration.
“Do you want my help or not?” you huffed, dropping the pair of legs you were barely holding to begin with and placing your hands on your hips.
Dropping his half with a thud John laughed mirthlessly. He pointed at you, cheeks rosy with exertion and the tips of his ears beginning to match as his temper ignited. “You asked me to come, you ungrateful horse’s arse!”
"What did you call me?" you asked, rushing him and pinning him to the nearest wall, hand poised over your switch blade.
Just then someone cleared their throat and you both jumped, startled by the noise.
You broke away from John, looking up at a dark haired woman who stood above you in a halo of golden morning light. Her amber eyes were warm and held nothing but concern as she searched your face in wordless communication.
John frowned at you, his eyes darting between you as he wondered aloud, "Who the fuck is she?"
Ignoring him completely, you looked up at her unable to contain the burden of your guilt. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you admitted softly to her, "I didn't want you to see this."
"Is she one of Rose's women or..." he trailed off, watching her descend the stairs slowly and walk into your waiting embrace, placing a tender kiss to your trembling lips. "Do you two know each other?" he asked thickly. "Please, Y/n, I'm so confused," he pleaded.
When you parted, you were still holding her hand tightly in yours. "John, this is Eliana Armstrong."
"And him?" John asked cautiously, pointing at the body. "You know him, don't you?"
You nodded slowly, but Eliana spoke up. "His name is Harold Armstrong,” she said sadly, holding up her left hand to reveal a small gold band on her ring finger.
John's shoulders hunched and his brow creased as he thought.
"Give him a minute," you whispered next to her ear. "Got a nice boat, that one, but he ain't the brightest."
"Oi! M not deaf!” John scowled at you. Then turning to Eliana, he puffed out his chest, ready to defend you. "You had her kill your husband?" he hissed the accusation as he closed the distance in a few long strides. "You had no right to ask that of her!" he shouted, pointing a finger in her direction.
Quickly stepping between them, you placed a hand to his chest to halt his movements. "You've got it wrong," you stated simply.
"He was going to kill Y/n..." Eliana began before you hushed her.
"She told him she was leaving to be with me. He thought he could stop her by..." You stopped to inhale a sharp breath, thinking of the perilous fight you barely survived hours earlier. "Well...you know," you swallowed harshly, not wanting to give details. "I called you cos I knew you'd be there for me no matter what," you explained quietly. John's hands dropped to his sides, fists unclenching as all tension left his body with the shock of what he'd just heard.
"Oh, my God," he said, lowering himself by the banister to sit on the bottom stair. He knew something was off when you opened the door for him, possibly before that, when he heard a slight quiver in your voice on the telephone as you gave the code word for emergencies. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought of you reaching out to him before anyone else, speechless at your show of trust.
After a few minutes of deafening silence you needed to know if John was upset for being asked to clean up your mess. "Will you please say something?" you prodded gently.
John raised his head from where it hung cradled between his large hands, his bright blue eyes observing the body lying before him in Alfie's demolished house. His curious gaze finally resting upon your exhausted and disheveled form, he managed, "Is this why we never shagged?"
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#peaky blinders fanfiction#Peaky blinders imagine#john shelby fanfic#john shelby imagine#john shelby x reader#john shelby x you#john shelby x y/n#john shelby
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In the Bleak-Mid Winter
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)
Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Cursing, Tommy eating, Mr.Campbell, sexual harassment, reader eats, Thomas Shelby ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) ( Also Y/N is on dick, IDKY she acts like this)
A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
*******************************************
You heard the paramedics before you saw them; you were sitting at the nurse's station having a late dinner amongst the other nurses when they burst through the door shouting.
"Male, early thirties, beaten severely, Bp 80/60, in and out of consciousness"
You had rushed over and led them to the next available room in the ER; so you and the doctor may start your examination. The doctor surprisingly showed up with the emergency instead of half an hour later. The paramedics set the man down on the gurney and got out of your way, but not before calling the man lying in front of you by name and assuring him that he was in good hands.
'Wait" you yelled after the paramedic, making them stop and face you
"You know this man, your family … or friend," you asked as you prepared a bucket of warm water with soap.
"No, miss, he's not friend nor family; I just recognized him, is all." the paramedic responded with a tight smile.
"And his name," you asked cause you didn't catch it the first time he said it.
"Thomas"
You thanked the man before turning back to your patient. You started to wipe away the blood and mud that caked his face making him unrecognizable, to the point where you were confused about how that gentleman had recognized him.
You continued down his body, cleaning him up where need be so the doctor could assess and work properly. As you cleaned a nasty cut along his bruised ribs, he began to stir, and his eyes opened.
"Sir, hi, do you know your name," the doctor asked him as he flashed a light in and out of his eyes
The doctor waited, but the man didn't answer, that's when the doctor looked towards you for help.
You grab the mans hand, squeezing it, causing him to look in your direction; you smile gently at him before asking him, slowing.
"Sir, do you know your name"
"M- my my name," he whispered, out of breath
"Yes sir, do you know it" You squeezed his hand again, encouraging him along
"It's Thomas"
"Very good," you praised him
"My name is Thomas Shelby."
You froze right in your tracks, dropping his hand and stepping back. You heard the doctor praise him for getting it right before asking questions about his pain, medical history, and allergies.
The doctor waved his hand towards you, motioning towards you to write his responses down, but you didn't even acknowledge him. You couldn't even move.
Thomas Shelby, thee Thomas Shelby. The most dangerous man in Birmingham is lying on your table with his life in your hands.
It was starting to all make sense now, why the paramedics knew him but didn't associate himself with him, why the doctor had rushed over so quickly to care for him.
You then realize that If this man dies, then you die.
That was all you needed to hear; you grabbed your clipboard, pulled yourself together, and began to write down the things you heard. The doctor finished his assessment, and told Thomas he would come back shortly to take him to surgery, and he would have the nurse give him a couple of papers to sign while he waited.
You rearranged the papers on your clipboard, putting the ones he needed to sign in front, then grabbed an IV and Morphine bag to set up a line. You handed him the clipboard as you put the bags on the hanger and began to put gloves on.
"What that," he asked, his head nodding towards the two bags as he turned the pages signing each of them before looking at you directly in your eyes.
"I -i-its a-a mo-morphi-e dr-drip a-and an IV ba-bag.”
You might have spoken more clearly if he wasn't staring at you with those eyes. It wasn't like what you had thought. You always thought that if you ever looked this man in the eyes, it would be no different than looking at the devil himself, especially after all the stories you have heard and the people you've seen who have been sent to the hospital in body bags after their dealings with him.
You expected to see hundreds of souls trapped behind his eyes, but instead, you just see a man, nothing more, just a man.
"Your papers," Thomas said, handing you back your clipboard as he looked at you looking at him.
"T-Thank you," you replied, tearing away your gaze as you walked towards the end of his bed, placing the clipboard along the edge.
You then walked back up to him, took his arm, and searched for a vein before placing the IV.
You flashed him a smile before snatching your gloves off and waking out of the room for much-needed air.
You walked till you were out of his sight, then you pressed your back against the wall before sliding down it all the way and placing your head in between your knees.
You breathed in and held it before breathing out; you repeated this action four more times before you started to calm down. You sat there for a few more seconds before the doctor returned with more people to begin moving Thomas to surgery.
"You think you can scrub in, or do you need a minute," the doctor said to you, his voice laced with annoyance.
You nodded your head as you stood up and followed him. You ignored his comment toward you as you had understood that this man holds Thomas Shelby's life in his hands, and there is no room for him to fail.
When you came into the room, the other nurse had already started to change Thomas into a gown and put a net on his head. You went around the gurney and flipped the stoppers on the wheels so that you may move it when ready.
Soon he was all changed, and it was time to move. You had placed yourself at the head of the bed while the other two nurses stood at the side.
"Let's go," you said as the three of you began pushing Mr.Shelby down the hall toward the surgery wing.
As you walked down the hall, you tried your hardest to not look down, even though you felt eyes on you, burning you as they looked at you. You tried to keep your eyes straight, but you couldn't and decided to look down. And when you did, you saw his bright blue eyes staring right back at you.
His eyes are intense and chilling, yet you still stare at him as he stares at you. But his stare has more meaning behind it; he's looking at you curiously, even turning his head to, what you guess, is to get a look at your name tag.
You break away your eyes from his as you hit the doors to the surgical wing pushing them open. You push him toward his room before leaving to wash up for his surgery as the other nurses get him ready and into place.
After scrubbing up, you dry your hands before placing fresh gloves on them. And walking over to Mr.Shelby and sitting on a stool at his head.
"Ok, Mr.Shelby, we're about to start your surgery. Today you are having surgery on your liver and kidney, which both have ruptured. I'm going to place the mask on your face and have you count back from ten, ok," You say to him as you set up the oxygen and gas machine for him.
He nodded his head, and you processed to place the mask on his face and nodded towards him to begin counting backward.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six….."
You secured the mask before standing on the opposite side of the doctor.
The surgery took four hours when It was only meant to take two; most of the time, Doctor Brown was on his game, but today, You had assumed that it was because of who the patient was that he was nervous and stressed himself out. But that wasn't the case; he became sloppy, too sloppy, to the point where you had to take over, finish and close-up. And when you had gone over to his side to take over, you had smelled it, on his breath, Whiskey. You couldn't believe that he would take a drink before performing surgery on a patient. You m didn't say anything though and simply left it as if it was him being nervous that he held Thomas Shelby's life in his hands.
****************
The next time you saw Thomas awake was when you went into his room to check his vitals.
“ Good Morning Mr.Shebly; how are we doing today,” You asked as you garbed his wrist, checking his heart rate and writing it down before moving to check his blood pressure with the wrap.
“ Thomas and Fine”
“ Well, Mr.Shelby, that’s Great to hear; how’s your pain on a scale from one to ten,” you asked as you wrote down his blood pressure and moved on to check his IV and Morphine bag.
“ Thomas and 7”
“ Mkay, you can turn up your morphine drip with this dial “ You stopped taking to show him the action of the cord before continuing, “ And I see you haven’t eaten …….. Thomas.”
“ I can tell you know who I am, so you know that I can not eat any old food brought up by any old nurse.”
“ Well, I assure you the food isn’t poisoned.”
“ Please do; go ahead and have a bite.”
“ Sure,” You said with a smile as you reached down and grabbed the spoon before scooping up some mashed potatoes and bringing them to your lip.
You were about to take a bite when you thought about it; this is Thomas Shebly, Birmingham's very own gangster; he probably has a lot of enemies.
They could be in the hospital right now or were when they poisoned his food. You looked down at the spoon before looking over at him.
“ I will get you a new trey made by me personally,” You said as you gathered your things and the tray and headed for the door.
“ And how do I know I can trust you,” he asked with a straight face
“ Why would I save your life and perform surgery on you just to kill you a couple hours later.”
He responded with a nod in agreement
“ Oh, and Thomas, you a visitor a Mr.Campbell, shall I send him in”
“ Yes”
You let the door shut behind you as you walked down the hall, briefly stopping at Mr.Campbell to tell him that Thomas may see him now before going down the steps to the kitchen.
The closer you got to the basement, the louder it got, people, yelling, pans slamming against each other, and the smell of piss and bleach was so strong it made you gag and shiver.
The kitchen was the first door on the right. You entered and immediately regretted it. Two rather large men were in the kitchen; though you don’t come down here often, you know that you’ve never seen these men in this hospital anywhere and that they weren’t the chefs.
“ Can I help you miss?” the shorter of the two men asked
“ Um, a patient of mine didn’t receive his food, Ive come down to retrieve him some.” You replied, your eyes shifting between the two as you walked up to the window in the wall.
“ Which, uh…. I mean, what’s your patient's name” the taller one asked as he stood up from leaning against the wall.
“ W-why”
“ Standard procedure,” the taller one said to you, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped closer.
You thought for a second and came to the conclusion that you would instead give this strange man a name than pick a fight you most certainly can’t win.
“It's for Mr.Shelby, Thomas Shelby”
“ Ah, Mr.Shelby, ok, one meal coming right up,” The short one said as he turned to grab a plate and began putting food on it.
You tried to watch him carefully as he fixed the plate, but the taller man stepped in front of you, blocking your view and taking up the whole window.
He bent down to your eye level before he began talking.
“ What’s a pretty nurse like you doing down here? You don’t run food.”
His breath reeked of cigarettes and rum, making your face scrunch up in disgust before stepping back.
“ All the food runners were busy, and Mr.Shebly needed food; I don’t mind doing another job; I’m happy to help.”
You realized that now that you’re not as close, you can see more, not much, but you did see when the other man sprinkled something all over Thomas's food before giving everything a quick mix.
You look back only to catch the tall man looking at you, well, more like at your body, which you were very grateful for, seeing as you didn’t get caught.
“ Oi, here’s the food, miss,” The shorter man said, handing you the plate after the taller one moved out of the way.
“ Thank you,” you said before scarring off.
You dumped the food in the trash in the hall before jogging upstairs; you passed the nurse's station before turning right back around and reaching under the station table to grab your paper bag with your lunch.
Then you headed straight for Thomas's room. You opened the door and closed it behind you locking it.
You see Thomas sitting on the bed, struggling to bring his cigarette to his lips.
You walk over and place your bag on the bed before snatching it out of Thomas's hands and taking a hit of it yourself. You breathe in the cig and pace the floor several times before blowing it out.
“ What, what happened,” Thomas asked
“ Two men in the kitchen, they didn’t belong. I know that for a fact; one blocked my view as they fixed your plate, and I swear, I fuckin swear I saw him put something in it,” you said, looking at him before taking another long drag and putting the cig back in his hands.
You begin to pace again, not feeling yourself calm down despite taking a couple of drags of the cig; you still don’t know why people smoke them things.
“ And,” Thomas began as he pressed his lips to the cig before taking a long drag and breathing it out, “ Where is the food now.”
“ I threw it out, of course; I’m not gonna get blamed for making a hit on Thomas Shelby,” you said, throwing your hands up as you looked at him with your head cocked to the side, confusion written all over your face.
Thomas took another long drag before saying, “ Welp, problem solved.”
“ H-how can you be so cool about this? They tried to kill you.”
“ Darlin, I’m in here cause someone tried to kill me, it's not the first, and it's not the last time,” he said before taking one last drag and putting the cig out.
He looked at you momentarily before tilting his head and pointing toward the brown bag at the edge of his bed.
“ Oh, since we can’t trust the food, I’ve brought you my lunch, which we know is not poisoned. And before you decline, you going to be needing your strength. I’m assuming that you will be cutting your time here short.” You said as you took the food out of the bag and walked over to the stove in the room.
“It's soup, so I must heat it; while it's heating, I’ll pack a goody bag of bandages and cleaning wipe, some morphine too; when do you think you’ll be out of here.” You asked as you filled the pot with the soup before placing it on the burner and turning it on.
“ I’ll be out by tonight.”
Your head snapped over to look at him
“ What,” he asked
“It's just too far too soon for a man with injuries like yours to be traveling
on foot, are you going far”
“ Far enough”
“ I’ll help you to where ever you are going,” you said, walking back over to his bed.
“ And why should I trust you.”
“ Well, let’s see, I just saved your life, and like you said, Mr.Shebly, I know who you are and what you do. And I’ve decided that I’d rather have you as a friend than an enemy,” You said before walking over to the door, unlocking it, stepping out, shutting it behind you, and locking it again.
You then heading off to collect supplies.
By the time you got back, the soup was ready, and you poured it back into the bowl and brought it over to Thomas, who tried to sit up but was too weak and fell back into the bed. You quicken your pace to him and set the bowl on the table before helping him sit up.
“ Slow down; you mustn’t tear your stitches,” You told him, placing pillows behind his back and helping him sit up.
He reaches for the soup but winches again in pain, he tries again, but you slap his hand.
“ Let me, “ you said as you picked up the bowl from the table
“ No, I can feed myself. “
“ Obviously not, now open wide,” you say as you dip the spoon in the bowl and hold it to his lips.
He just looks at you with a straight face; you drop the spoon back into the bowl.
“ I’m sorry,” you say with a light laugh, “ but please, you need to eat” You bring the spoon out of the bowl again before placing it into his mouth.
You stay silent as he eats, repeating your actions over and over again. Bringing the spoon down to the bowl and scooping up some soup before bringing it to his lip. You do this while looking up, down, at the soup, and then at him, all while his eyes stay on you.
Soon you are on your last spoonful of soup, and you accidentally cause some soup to run down his lip as you had pulled it out too soon. You immediately grab a napkin bringing it up to his chin.
“ Sorry, I-“ he cuts you off, grabbing your writs, stopping it mid-air, looking you right in your eyes.
“ I’ve got it,” he said as he grabbed the napkin from your hands before wiping his chin, then licked his lips.
Your eyes trail down his face onto his body, slowly as you study every part of him, taking your time before returning to his face. And still, his eyes are on you, lookin' at you as you look at him.
“ Do you want to fuck” he asked
You panicked
“What? No, I was just c-checking on your body like, umm, you cut and bruises to make sure everything looked good,” you said while standing up, taking the bowl with you, and placing it back in your brown sack.
“ Well…. Um, you leave tonight. I will be back to help you get dressed after my shift. We can go; I, uh, have other patients to check on, so I’ll be back then, and I’ll keep the door locked, ok.” You say, keeping your eyes on the ground as you collect your things and made haste towards the door. You quickly open the door shutting it and locking it before leaning against it.
This is Thomas Shelby, a cold-hearted killer, you tried to convince yourself. But man is that man easy on the eyes. You blow out a puff of air before placing your things back under the table at the nurse's station and walking off to check on your other patients.
**************
You finished your work quickly and got off earlier than anticipated; it was around 10 when you headed towards Thomas Way.
You unlocked his room and entered; you didn’t bother turning on some light; the moon provided enough light, and you were trying not to draw attention to yourselves.
You slowly walked over to him; he was sleeping on his back; you got up close to him before whispering.
“ Thomas…… Thomas wakes up” You reached down towards him to shake him a bit “ Thom-“
He reached up and grabbed your wrist, but unlike last time, it wasn’t gentle. You struggled to free your hand from his grip as you pulled back while he looked at you, confused.
“ Thomas, it's me, please” You let a cry slip as you tried to get him to understand. It was clear that Thomas wasn’t all the way there.
“ Thomas,” you said a bit louder, causing him to let go of your wrist.
He shook his head and looked down before looking back up at you and your wrist, which you now cradled in your other hand
“ I-Im so-“ You cut him off before he finished
“It's fine, come on, sit up,” you said as you grabbed his shoulder, guiding him the way you wanted him to sit.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed before you walked towards the back room to gather his clothes and walked back.
You placed his top on the bed before getting on your knees to put his socks and pants on. This time you heard no complaint from him as you helped him. After you put on his socks, you scrunched up his pants legs before putting them around his ankles.
You then pulled them up to his thighs as far as they would go before clearing your throat. He then stood up, and you stood up with him slowly pulling the pants up as you went. He almost fell when he stood tall, catching himself before he did so using your shoulder to balance himself.
You pulled the pants to his waist, tugging a bit before zipping them up and buttoning them. You keep your head down, even though you want to look up; you feel his eyes on you, looking down at you. His whole body towering over you. It was equally as inviting as it was intimidating.
He moved his hand slowly down your arm
to your wrist. He took it into his hands and brushed over it softly.
“ I’m sorry.”
His words made you look up at him
“It’s fine.”
He drops your wrist, and you reach down and pick up his shirt, bunching it up in your hands as you stand on your tippy toes to place it over his head.
He bent down to help you carefully slip his arm into his shirt before pulling it down and tucking it into his pants. You then click his suspender into place before slipping them over his shoulder.
After you get back on your knees, place his shoes on his feet and tie them. When you finished, you helped him put his coat on. You grab the rest of the things you packed for him and place them in a bag before tucking them in his coat.Lastly, you grab his hat, place it on his head, pulling it down to cover his face more.
“ Ok, so we’ll stop at the nurse station so I can grab my thing, then we’ll head towards the back of the hospital to leave; that way, no one will see you,” You say as you start walking towards the door.
You walk out the door and towards the station, grabbing your coat, placing it on, then your purse, before walking to the backend of the hospital.
You grab Thomas's hand, pulling him closer as you begin to approach the final long stretch of hallway.
“ I have to keep you close so people will assume we’re together.” You say
“ Why,” he asks
“ Cause …….. “ you trail off, “this part of the hospital is where people bring others to have…… a good time. That’s why it's the perfect place to leave. There’s no security and no one’s concerned with who comes and goes.”
“ Ah, so you do what to fuck”
You immediately stop in track and face him,
“I do not Im trying to “ You stop mid-sentence when you see a slight smile on his face. He’s joking, trying to ease the heavy tension between you two.
You grab his hand again, pulling him along the rest of the way, ignoring the people in your peripheral who are getting to know each other. You finally get to the door pushing it open and are greeted with a rush of cold air.
You and Thomas step out of the hospital into the south parking lot, which is entirely empty. You look at Thomas, waiting for him to lead the way; he wraps his arm around you, placing some of his weight on you as he starts walking.
“ Is it far where we’re going?” you ask, looking up at your breath dancing in the air.
“ No, not far, 30 minutes at most”
Besides the occasional whine from Thomas, the rest of your walk is quiet. As you near your destination, or you assumed cause, Thomas asks you, “ You live near here or far? If so, I’ll have one of my men walk you home.”
“ Oh, now I have peaky protection; this friendship is starting off better than I thought. But yeah, I live close no need for a chaperone, though. I’ve lived in Birmingham all my life. I know how to take care of myself.”
And that’s the end of that conversation; soon, you approach some gates to a well-known boatyard.
“ We’ve arrived,” you asked
“ We have; I can make it from here,” he says, and you let him go
“ Very well, Thomas, till next time, bye.”
He nods his head towards you and says your name before walking away. Your heart skips a beat never having heard him say your name till now, and you never told him. You can only assume that he read your name tag at some point. You flash him a smile before walking home.
Since you got home late that night, you didn’t have to sneak in to avoid your landlord. You were a couple of weeks behind on rent, the hospital didn’t pay well, and these apartments were a bit out of your reach, but they were the only ones that were halfway decent and not rat infested.
The next couple of days, you continued to work double shifts so you could make enough money from rent. Every day, people asked you if you were ok, you had been forgetting to complete things and messing small tasks up.
This was unlike you, but every time you let yourself think, your mind would drift off to Thomas. You kept rethinking every moment you were together, replaying every moment like it was a scene from a movie.
Eventually, you were told to take the rest of the day off; people assumed you were too tired to concrete, seeing that you had worked doubles for the last three days. You didn’t protest because you had to admit you were pretty tired.
When you arrived home, you wished you had fought the people at the hospital a little more.
As soon as you walked into your building, you ran into your landlord, who was collecting his mail from his box.
“ Sir, good afternoon. I don’t have your money now, but soon, I will have it in full soon, and I shall give it to you no later than next week.”
His body wasn’t facing you, and he didn’t answer you, so you reached out and touched his shoulder.
“ Sir ?”
“ Huh, oh, it's you; I hope you weren’t talking to me; I don’t mean to be rude. My ears haven’t been working the best of late.”
He was talking, but you weren’t really paying attention; he had some nasty fresh bruises on his face, cuts above his eyes, swollen eyes, and a busted leaking lip that he kept bringing a towel up to dab.
“ Sir, what happened? And I said I will have my rent to you by next week.”
“ Oh no, I’m fine, just some bumps and bruises, and no need to have the rent to me; from now on, you live here for free,” he said and started to walk off.
“ But sir, wait, I don’t understand why,” you asked, yelling after him
“ What was it that them peaky boys had said” Your eyes immediately widened; you had caused this. “Oh yeah, the rent for the girl is free, or the house burns down.”
You were about to apologize, but he had already returned to his apartment. You stood there for a good minute before heading upstairs and fixing some tea and food.
You sat down and ate your snack, staring at the wall as you sipped your tea. Then you laughed and kept laughing; your landlord was a horrible man who once tried to get you to offer sex as payment, and by getting, he locked you out of your apartment until you had his rent, you had only been a day late when he did it, and it took you a week to get his money. You had to sneak into your apartment through the window every night and leave out the same way every morning.
He got what was coming for him, with his crazy rent prices like we live in the city.
You smiled; this becoming friends thing with Thomas was already working for you. You had hoped that, that wasn’t the last time you saw Thomas.
And it wasn’t.
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𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡
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Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader
Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.
Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism
Additional Information :
> takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers)
> written in third person perspective (she/her)
> 847 words | 6 minutes
Author's Note :
decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3
-------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.
Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"
John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.
Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.
Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.
He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.
Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.
Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.
Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.
Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.
Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.
"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.
Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.
She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.
"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.
Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.
Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.
"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"
"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.
As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.
"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.
In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.
The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.
However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.
"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.
She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.
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