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too-many-baes · 2 years

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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.”

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angelofthenight · 1 year

Text

Tommy: You need to use what God gave you.

You: My charm and wit?

Tommy: That’s a weird name for your boobs.

You: Stop looking at them, John!

John: What? He brought them up!

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pacifymebby · 9 months

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You’re imagines are so good! Love the character accuracy. Imagine the peaky blinders boys having a s/o who is super into self care, and wants to pamper them as well. Like skin care, body/scalp massages, baths, etc.

This is so cute i love it, i did it as kind of modern au centered because i feel like self care is probably way more varied now than it used to be?

Tommy

🌿I feel like he looks after himself and isn't going to be as opposed to this as you might expect a bloody-minded toxic masculinity gangster to be.

🌿Especially not the candlelit baths, the back rubs and anything else which involves close physical contact with you...

🌿Both 20s Tommy and Modern! Tommy are very serious men, their brain is always set in overdrive, his thoughts buzzing and whirring like a broken machine at all hours. He never switches off and you worry about him.

🌿"Ain't good for you Tommy, you're always lost inside your own head... Driving yourself crazy, you need to switch off every now and then... Let me help you..."

🌿 You know exactly the tone to take to get him to leave his work and come to you, oh so slightly suggestive, tempting... And when it comes to you Tommy doesnt have much resistance...

🌿You probably have a really fancy bathroom with a sunken in tub, jacuzzi jets and all, which Tommy had built for you but which you always intended on sharing with him. I'm picturing this but with more house plants, more candles...

🌿 You put his favourite record on and soak in the tub with him, he holds you in his lap, definitely tries to take the vibe somewhere else

🌿But you are determined that this is going to be more than just a steamy afternoon of shower sex... You promised to help him relax and you're going to.

🌿 "Oh angel no... I don't need that..." he says when you present him with a facemask, its a sheet mask and he just looks at you all "we look like something out of a horror movie y/n" "yes but its going to make your skin feel heavenly..." "already heavenly love..." he smirks making you smile a little embarassed. "Well yeah, I mean you are..." you start but he just shakes his head, "was talking about you angel..."

🌿Tommys been through a lot and has a lot of pent up stress stored in his muscles, he doesn't realise quite how much trauma he's holding in his body until he starts to relax, and when he realises everything he's carrying with me, all these emotions he shuts out to survive, he panics a bit... He can't let himself unwind completely or he's sure he'll fall apart.

🌿So he tries to make up excuses to cut short your pamper session, standing up to get out of the bath, taking his face mask off with some excuse about having an important call that needs to be made...

🌿You're not stupid though, you know what he's doing and so with one puppy dog eye look at him, you beg him to stay just a little longer. And he can't say no to you when you look at him like that so he returns to you.

🌿You wash his hair and massage his head, you tell him to close his eyes and you treat him so delicately. He's never felt this kind of care before, this good goosebump feeling, the hairs on his neck standing on end at the slightest touch from you. He loves it.

🌿You give him a little face massage too, telling him to close his eyes, sitting in his lap and very gently, delicately massaging his temples, his cheeks and jaw. He didn't even know you could carry tension in your face like that but your touch is magic. And when you finsih it with a kiss pressed to his lips he pulls you in for a deeper one.

🌿 Tommy also likes to live the life of luxury, he always aspired to reach the levels of those higher social classes, he always wanted what they have and so when you beg him to go on a spa week with you he obliges. Its one of those things the rich do after all.

🌿He gets a taste for massages and takes you on many spa weekends. If he has a particularly troubling problem he needs to mull over he will often lie on his back in the sauna and think things through.

🌿Loves an ice bath/plunge pool because he's a fucking sociopath.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has never had someone try to take care of him like this, he's not really used to having people take care of him at all but this is even more unfamiliar... As far as Alfie is concerned "self-care" is just "womans stuff ain't it"

🐻 "Well no Alf its not really, anyone can do it and well yknow... Youre always spoilin me aren't you," "rotten zieskiet, absolutely rotten," "well yeah, exactly... I wanna make it up to you, wanna look after you for once..."

🐻 He will argue, "But you see my little zieskiet thats just not how this works yeah, you and me yeah... You're my little girl ain't you," "yeah but..." "right, exactly right, you're my little girl and there ain't no buts about it zieskiet, I take care of you.. You don't want for anythin... You don't need to look after me, I do that myself right..."

🐻 "But Alfie," you whine fixing him with a pout and the most irresistible puppy eyes, "I want to look after you..."

🐻 So he lets you do it to make you happy... Of course he grumbles about it anyway, even if he's enjoying it. He can't drop his grumpy old man act now...

🐻 He lets you run him a hot bath, let's you use your essential oils, lets you wash his hair and condition his beard... On the condition that whilst you wash him you sing for him, something nice and sweet and low. When you're singing for him thats when he really lets himself relax, closing his eyes and feeling the heat from the water soak into him.

🐻He finds that he's able to relax and enjoy it but he can't actually admit to that, he rolls his eyes, tells you he's only doing it so that you'll stop hastling him about it, only doing it because it makes you happy...

🐻 But he secretly loves when you climb into the bath with him and massage his sore muscles, he loves feeling you comb your fingers through his beard and his hair.

🐻 Will not let you put a facemask on him, uses his beard as an excuse, also tells you he's got really senstive skin which is definitely another excuse... Five minutes ago he was pretending he didn't know what a skincare routine was, so how on earth he'd know whether he had sensitive skin or not you don't know...

🐻 You definitely teach this man the power and divine pleasure that is ✨moisturising✨ he gets dry skin and it gets worse when he's stressed so you teach him all about how to wash his face and how to moisturise properly, you make him promise he'll follow his routine every day, "happy skin means happy everything else..." you tell him and he just rolls his eyes and chunters away.

🐻 He will always insist you join him in the bath, he'll tell you he can't possibly relax if his little zieskiet isn't close by.

🐻 I feel like a lot of your self care tricks would be really good for his sciatica as well, relaxing when thats playing up, letting you take care of him. It's what he needs but it all has to be done under the pretence that its to make you happy and that hes the one looking after you.

🐻 At first he is definitely a little wary of letting you see him naked in a non sexual way, in a way where he is the vulnerable one and you're really paying attention to him... When you're not having sex being naked together makes him a little self concious, he thinks a massage will draw attention to his injuries ans scars, is worried you'll see him for the broken/breaking down man he really is

🐻 You tracing the ridges and lines of his scars, kissing them lightly when you're massaging him. Nuzzling into his neck and kissing him as your fingers trail the marbled scarring on his waist and his shoulder.

🐻 Theres one element of self care that Alfie really can get behind and thats meditation. He really enjoys sitting peacefully, letting his mind calm and settle, letting his thoughts wash over and away one by one. He believes it enhances his intelligence and insight, believes that by calming his mind he's making himself sharper.

🐻 He loves a hot stone bed more than he cares to admit but when his back is playing up lying on one of those feeling the heat relax his body slowly, its so soothing... He'll never go to a spa alone however, he always takes you as an excuse to be there.

Arthur

🍂 "You fuckin what? You're gonna make me feel better with some nice smells?"

🍂 Will not let you put "mud" on his face. "Darlin that's just fuckin wrong int it... Fuckin mud on your face? Like mud... From the ground..."

🍂 Arthur is completely baffled by the whole thing and honestly a little bit scared. It all just sounds like "girl stuff" stuff that his mates would take the everloving piss out of him if he admitted to trying it.

🍂 But you know Arthur, he might have that tough guy exterior, might come across as harsh and angry and well, rough... But underneath it he's hiding a delicate side, a side that you know would benefit from just a little self care.

🍂 You have to trick him into it, set some kind of trap because he won't conciously go near anything ylang ylang scented.

🍂 Is genuinely petrified of the shop Lush, crosses the street so he doesn't even have to walk past the front door. He's scared one of the shop assistants will lure him in with a polite hello and then drag him inside kicking and screaming, smothering him in all sorts of oils and bath shite. Once when you were just dropping in to buy a facemask he caught your hand and very very seriously told you to "be careful in there love, don't let anyone grab you" he even shuddered/had a nervous twitch as he watched you go in.

🍂 He doesn't know how to be taken care of, as the eldest son its always been his responsibility to take care of everyone else, he hasn't really been shown much love or care from many people. Most people are terrified of him, his brother who he should be closest to doesn't let him talk about feelings, and he's too embarassed about admiting "failure" to go to his aunt or anyone else for comfort.

🍂 From the first time you spoke to him you've been determined to show him that care. You looked at him, his nervous eyes, that lack of self confidence he was doing so well to hide, and you just thought "this is a man who needs a hot bath and a really good head massage"

🍂 But Arthur is so awkward and standoffish whenever you try to look after him. He hates it if you're "soft" on him because he thinks its imasculating and patronising. He finds it all so embarrassing and he'll go the most adorable shade of bright red whenever you so much as kiss his cheek.

🍂 The first time you suggest a nice candlelit bath he gets interested but thats because baths are literally just for fucking as far as he's concerned and he's dissapointed to realise that you have something else in mind.

🍂 Lots of protests, "y/n come on now we don't have to do this... This is just... I don't need to relax i am relaxed..." "Arthur you haven't been relaxed since your umbilical cord got cut..."

🍂 But once you're alone together in that bath he finally begins to relax. You tell him to close his eyes and at first he refuses or asks why. "Cause its better for relaxing..." "You're gonna do somet to me aren't you... Gonna use one of them fuckin mud potions..." "Promise I'm not..." you try to take his anxiety seriously but "mud potions" is a difficult thing not to laugh at.

🍂 He does his best to relax though and grows to love the feeling of your fingers in his hair, it really does feel like a weight being lifted.

🍂 His favourite thing is to close his eyes and lie back against your chest, the skin on skin contact, the steam and warm water doing wonders to slow his racing mind right down.

🍂 You give him hand massages a lot and he really likes learning how to give them to you too. You teach him where your pressure points are and he concentrates really hard on learning exactly how to take care of you too.

🍂 And sometimes when you're in the bath together you let your hand travel a little lower than usual, you let his idea of bath time win out.

🍂 You take him to a spa and he's so unnerved, he's worried he'll be recognised by someone and his reputation of being a ferocious gangster will be ruined. But he does like the sauna, trouble is it puts him in the mood for fucking...

🍂 Doesnt like a steam room, he feels too vulnerable in there because its dark and steamy and he gets claustrophobic not being able to see so well. If you go into the steam room he will stand guard outside so that nothing bad can happen to you in there.

🍂 You teach him lots of different breathing exercises and try to get him into stretching. They're such effective ways of relieveing tension and you know they'd do him the world of good. But he's not very flexible and he just grumbles. He is however astounded by how bendy you are and will often ask you to show him certain poses just so he can get a good look at you.

🍂 He does try to remember the breathing exercises and they do actually really help him with his ptsd.

John

🌼 I feel like John would be down for doing facemasks with you, you painting his face with some ugly green clay mask, him painting yours with a glittery gold one, taking silly selfies with you.

🌼 He definitely strikes me as a "splashes face with cold water and dries it on an old tshirt" kind of skin care routine boy but you're determined to change his primitive ways.

🌼 He also definitely loves a spa day and you two frequently dissappear to some fancy spa retreat for the weekend.

🌼 Loves a steam room/sauna combination, especially when you join him, theres something really sexy about watching you lie on your back in a bikini, lit up by the dim orange glow of the sauna. That musky essential oils smell lingering in the air... The little beads of sweat on your breasts as your chest rises and falls... "Lie down John, stop starring at me you're supposed to be relaxing..." "Oh I'm relaxed flower don't worry about me..."

🌼 Loves a massage, especially when you go all professional on him with the essential oils. When you get him to lie face down on the bed and climb on top of him to massage his back. Feeling your hands all over him, feeling your legs straddling him...

🌼 You know what else is a good stress reliever love? An orgasm.

🌼 You put cucumber on his eyes when he's in the bath and he immediately thanks you for the snack and eats it. You're speechless, how do you even begin to tell him thats not what thats for.

Bonnie

🍀 Perfectly happy to be silly with you and will let you do whatever you want to him if it makes you happy... So he lets you work out his skin type and prepare the perfect face mask...

🍀 Actually sometimes he'll acompany you out into the forest to find the berries and plants you need to make your little self care rememdies with, its a good excuse to spend time with you and he finds it incredible how knowledgeable about plants and herbs you are...

🍀Does point out that this facemask you've mixed up for yourself is just a really fancy overnight oats recipe... Does eat a spoonful and imediately regrets it wincing and spitting it out.

🍀 It does take quite a lot to convince him that self-care isn't the same as make up and stuff, he's always telling you not to "buy into all that wellness shite" because its just a new capitalist method of getting your money off you...

🍀 And you know, he's not completely wrong, but self care isn't just about buying stuff and you have to try and teach him that before he'll really let you show him stuff. Showing him how you make natural face masks, moisturisers and bath salts does help this process.

🍀 He has to take care of his body for his boxing and he's no stranger to a sports massage, actually more often than not he's the one trying to get you to let him give you a back rub... Whenever you offer he always starts on you, squeezing your shoulders, telling you you seem tense. He's such a smooth talker you don't even realise he's derailed your plan until he's smoothing warm lavender oil over your back, working your muscles skillfully. And when you do realise you don't want to ask him to stop.

🍀 After his fights you want to take good care of him and you always insist he spends the following day with you, relaxing... You spoil him with a hot bath to sooth his sore muscles, scented candles and nature sounds asmr music, massages, he even lets you put a hair mask in his curls.

🍀He's always been torn about things like spa days, hes always thought they were something for posh people, wives of men who play too much golf... But again, he'll do anything if you ask him enough times, so he comes with you one day and he's adorably awkward and hesitant about everything.

🍀 You pick his treatments for him and he really really has to trust you because he's not sure what an "all over body sugar scrub" is but it sounds, intimidating? Afterwards when you ask for his review he just grins, "I'd have liked it more if it was you in there with me..."

🍀 Ultimately though Bonnie's idea of self care is a day in the woods, or by a river with you. Somewhere peaceful, quiet. Lying back against a tree trunk with you in his arms.

🍀 "Really dove, takin care of my girls what makes me feel good, enough with your scented candles now eh, let me look after you, it's not like i ain't good at it..." he says whispering the last sentence in your ear, kissing your neck as he starts to massage your shoulders.

🍀 You're literally never winning this battle sorry.

Isaiah

🐀 Will roll his eyes when you suggest a self care night, calls it your "hippy dippy bullshit" teases you and asks if you're going to do his birth chart whilst you're at it... "Maybe I should Si, might find out why you're such a snide git eh?" You'll probably regret flashing him that cheeky smile.

🐀So aye, he's not exactly easy to convince, he has the same opinion on self care as most the other men... That its girls stuff, that it ain't manly to smell like lavender and camomile.

🐀But, a little wine, a few candles and a hot bath... You with your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers massaging his scalp gently... Whats not to like about that... He really likes how close it makes you feel, the connection between you strengthening.

🐀Thats more to do with the fact he's being vulnerable with you and his vulnerability is being met with care and love, rather than down to the fact you've sugar scrub massaged his back and legs.

🐀He will let you do facemasks with him but it will come accompanied by many threats, "you tell anyone about this mousy and I promise you you'll regret it..." but you're not scared of him and so you tease him with the threat of telling his touch guy gangster friends all the time. You start getting your own way much more often.

🐀I think he probably enjoys the tension of letting you shave him with an open razor blade, i don't know if this counts as self care so much as just a personal hygiene thing but either way, its a very intense and intimate experience and you're the only person he trusts to do it because you're so gentle and delicate with it that you never cut him.

🐀He fancies himself a social climber and enjoys the status of being able to "treat his girl to a relaxing weekend away" he definitely enjoys taking you to spas and baths, but he tends to let you go off for all the fancy treatments and just enjoys swimming in the pool and relaxing on the stone beds or in the sauna.

🐀Another man who needs to be taught about the power of moisturising. His skin gets dry and you buy him moisturisers and give him little face massages. He's much better at remembering to do his little skincare routine than alfie is because he cares a lot about the way he looks.

🐀"Fuckin drop it with the meditation shit love, i go to church I say my prayers, I don't need to do deep breathing to cleanse my soul..." he just won't do it, won't try your stretches either because "I go to the gym don't I, yogas for girls love..."

🐀Pulls stupid faces at you when you put cucumber on his eyes.

Michael

☘️Out of all the men he takes care of himself the best. He already has a skincare routine, has several serums he uses too.

☘️ So it doesn't take much to convince him of other self care activities. However, don't you dare call it self care. "Look I'm all for lookin after meself like i just don't see why we've got to give it some soft girly name now..."

☘️ He really loves being pampered, kind of likes being treated like a king... His cousins take the piss out of him for it but he doesn't care... "Don't really see whats embarrassing about having my girl massage me back after work... Don't it make me more of a man that I've got a woman who's obsessed with me..." you never let it slide when he talks about you like that but you also know why he's doing it. He's just trying to get his cousins off his back.

☘️ Would probably spend every weekend at the spa if he thought he could get away with it. He likes to throw his cash around and receive special treatment.

☘️ He really really loves a salt scrub and he's a secret fan of a facial too.

☘️He's never the one to suggest that the two of you have a self-care evening together but you can always tell when he needs one and he never refuses your offer.

☘️You have a mini spa built into your house, a sauna and a hot tub, sometimes when you're having once of your self care nights you find yourself next to him in the hot tub, your mood changing.. Your mind drifting to other things, but when Michael is relaxing he's relaxing and theres no disturbing him.

☘️"Not now love eh, later maybe..." his little spa is sacred to him. You're astounded because he must be the first man to turn down the offer of a hot tub fuck.

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #Peaky blinders reader insert

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crowleying · 1 year

Text

My policeman | m!reader

Date: 06.12.2022

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 4.840

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Esme Shelby, Harry Fenton, others

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Tommy Shelby is suddenly very interested in you and you have no idea why.

A/N: English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistake, and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

You were on patrol around the city with one of your colleagues. You knew he was on the Peaky Blinders' payroll but, after all, only a handful of policemen weren't. You were one of them. It was confusing to most people in Small Heath, mainly because they knew you were John Shelby's best friend. He had offered you money to give them information and turn a blind eye to their affairs as they did with everyone, but you had made it clear that you couldn't be bought. He had respected that. The balance was fragile. The whole deal was based on your friendship. You had been able to refuse the money without losing your job because you were friends and people respected you because of your bond to the most powerful family in Birmingham, and a little because you did your job and wouldn't hesitate to throw people in jail if needed. You didn't pretend not to see what happened around you. Not even if the Peaky Blinders were involved. However, being friends with John also prevented you from trying to tear the whole business down. Everyone had learnt it pretty soon, so they had just started doing their things when you weren't on patrol, which meant your rounds were always quiet. You didn't complain. You didn't like arresting people, especially if they were Blinders.

That day seemed to be especially quiet. Well, as quiet as Small Heath could be. Your eyes observed the people going on about their lives around you while you chatted with your colleague. Many people greeted you, and you smiled back.

You turned to your partner, your eyes wide and a big smile on your face. "What?! No way. What is this, your... seventh?"

"Yeah," he replied smiling proudly under his thick moustache. "Four girls and two boys. I'm rooting for another boy."

"Congrats!" You patted his back, but you saw his face change, suddenly becoming serious.

He looked up and touched his cap, tilting his head down. "Morning, Mr Shelby."

You turned and saw Thomas Shelby on one of his horses, riding down the road. You nodded towards him as a form of greeting but didn't touch your cap or wish him a good day.

He nodded back at you, and you felt his icy blue eyes pierce through you. It wasn't anything new. You felt that way every time he looked at you and you wondered if everyone could feel it when they were under his gaze as if he could see everything that was inside. It felt as if God was scrutinizing you. You did understand why John called him Tommy the Almighty.

Even as he passed by you, you could still feel his eyes burn holes in you. You kept walking but turned to look at him and saw he was already looking. You turned back to the front.

"I don't know how you can refuse their offer. By the way he was looking at you, he really wants you on his payroll."

When you walked into the Garrison that night and asked Harry for a glass of whiskey, he refused your money and said it had already been paid for, then nodded towards the private room next to the counter.

"Yeah, well, John knows it won't happen." You shrugged, but the feeling of his eyes on you lingered and stayed with you for the rest of the day.

"Mr Shelby wishes to speak with you."

You rolled your eyes at the formality John liked to mess with when you were involved and grabbed your glass heading to the room.

"Come on, John, how many tim-" you started as you opened the door only to stop mid-sentence when you met Tommy's icy gaze instead of John's warm and playful one. "Thomas."

He was smoking alone, a glass of whiskey in front of him.

He beckoned you with a motion of his fingers. "Close the door and take a sit."

Your eyebrows raised, unimpressed by how he was treating you like one of his men. Maybe he had forgotten you didn't work for him.

"If you want to buy me, Thomas, you can save it. I'm not on sale," you said without doing any of the things he had asked of you.

He observed you for a few long seconds as if trying to read you. Then he sighed, tearing his gaze away from you and knocking the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you."

When you still didn't move, he turned towards you again. "I promise. Please, come sit with me."

You hid your surprise at hearing him saying the word "please." You didn't think he even knew how to pronounce it for lack of use. You closed the door behind you and took a sit on the other side of the table from him.

You rolled the whiskey in your glass waiting for him to speak. "What did you want to talk about?" you asked when he didn't.

He offered you a cigarette but you refused. You didn't trust him outside family gatherings and that wasn't a social call.

"I would like to invite you to dinner."

You frowned. You had already been to dinner at the Shelbys plenty of times and not once had Thomas himself been the one to invite you. "Uhm... sure, tell Polly to count me in."

"I mean with me."

His reply startled a laugh out of you. "I never thought you were one for pranks. Thought you left that to Johnny."

He stared at you, his expression unchanged. There was no trace of a smile on his face. "I'm serious."

You looked back at him with a newfound seriousness and slammed your glass on the table, spilling some of its content. "I really hope not."

It was your turn to observe him, trying to understand what his real intentions were. "What do you really want from me, Thomas?"

"I want to take you out for dinner."

You snorted. "You think I'm a fool?"

"No," he let out much lower than his usual tone.

"You can't buy me so you're trying to get me arrested. That's too low even for you."

He shook his head. "That's not-"

"Save your bullshit," you interrupted getting up. You leaned forward pointing a finger at him. "You try this shit again and I'll get you arrested."

You were smoking with John by the cut like you did when you were fifteen. You loved the fact that your friendship hadn't changed all that much, not after you had been to war together, nor when you had decided to join the police. With John, it had always been easy. No judgement, just two boys having fun and doing what they had to live in such a hard world.

Then you walked out.

"So, new girls?" he joked.

You looked at him unimpressed, before looking back in front of you.

John was the only person who knew you didn't like girls. You had found out thanks to him. When you were young, you had experimented with each other. There had been some kisses and a couple of hand jobs. He had soon understood he wasn't into men, but he had never judged you. To these days he still joked about it and you had never really minded until Thomas had asked you out.

"Did you tell him?"

He abruptly turned to look at you. "You know I would never."

"Then how the fuck did he know, John?" you asked, throwing your unfinished cigarette into the cut, clearly upset.

"Tommy, he always seems to know shit," he said slowly, playing with his cap and looking down at it in his lap. He looked at you. "But he means good. He isn't trying to fuck you up."

You snorted. You trusted John and you were sure he believed what he was saying, but Thomas was cunning and he could have people believe anything he wanted. Maybe he had tricked his own brother into believing he really was interested in you, knowing he would have put a good word in for him.

"Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow though?"

You had been a guest of the Shelbys every Saturday for dinner for as long as you could remember.

"Will he be there?"

"Probably."

You groaned.

"Come on. You won't even have to talk to him. How many times have you two talked at dinner?"

You frowned. "Probably more than you would expect."

Now that you thought of it, Tommy had always found a way to exchange a few words with you after dinner about the most random topics. You had always enjoyed those moments. Talking with him was nice. He didn't smile a lot, not like before the war, but he had always been kind to you. You had always thought he did that just for John's sake, so you had never considered him a friend or anything. In addition to that, the huge crush you had had on him had made it hard to be as comfortable with him as you were with the rest of the family. You had completely overcome that now, though. Still, the awkwardness was hard to shake off.

John bumped his shoulders into yours, bringing you back to the present. "The kids will be a pain if you don't come."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

When you stepped into the Shelbys' household the following evening, you got surrounded by John's kids. They either hugged you, pulled you somewhere, or screamed at you about their day. You loved them, but they could be a lot. Finally, Ada came to save you, and you smiled gratefully at her. She hugged you and invited you to follow her to the kitchen where all the others were. Tommy was missing, and you felt relief flooding you. You hadn't even finished greeting everyone when the front door opened. Little Finn ran to welcome the newcomer. You held your breath and your eyes found John's on the other side of the room. He looked guilty. You frowned, but before you could take him aside to ask what he had done, Tommy walked into the kitchen with Finn in his arms. When you turned towards him, he was already looking at you and you couldn't bring yourself to utter a word in greeting. Your lips stayed still.

John grinned triumphantly.

"Let's sit and eat," Polly said, setting the pot in the centre of the table.

While she served, everyone took a seat, and somehow you found yourself next to Tommy. John had taken the seat that was usually reserved for you and you had to take his. Now you understood the look you had seen in his eyes earlier. You would punch him later.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it's something." Tommy's murmur was drowned by the others chatting and you would have missed it too if you hadn't been so close to him.

You pretended you hadn't heard and instead thanked Polly for filling your plate.

For the whole dinner, you did everything you could to forget Thomas was there. You chatted with everyone, complimented Polly for her cooking, asked Esme how she could be so patient with all those troublemakers around, glared at John multiple times, joked with the kids, even taking one of them on your lap when he wanted to show you the small gap in his smile left by the tooth he had lost a couple of days earlier.

Tommy stayed silent for the most part, as usual. He commented on a thing here or there and messed with the kids for a little fun. You could always feel his gaze on you. His eyes might have been the colour of ice, but sure as hell, you could feel them burn on your skin. He saw to it so that your glass was never empty, and even if you remembered distinctly rejecting him that day at the Garrison, it seemed like he hadn't gotten the memo, although he had probably just decided to ignore it because Tommy Shelby only ever played by his rules.

After dinner, the children went off somewhere to play while Polly and Esme washed the dishes. Ada had excused herself saying she was tired and she would go to bed early, but you were pretty sure she would climb out of the window to go see Freddy. Arthur took out a bottle of rum and filled four glasses.

"I should go, actually," you announced, getting up.

"No way!"

"Oh come on, you can stay for a nightcap."

John, who was now sitting next to you, pulled on your arm and you sat back down with a sigh. Arthur grinned and a small, pleased smile appeared on Tommy's face. You wanted to slap it away. Instead, you glared at him and grabbed his cigarette case to take one in retaliation. It only caused his smile to grow.

You put the cigarette between your lips and scowled at him when he leaned in touching the end of your cigarette with his to light it up. You hated how your heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to your cheeks. You inhaled and pulled back quickly, missing the looks Arthur and John had exchanged seconds earlier.

You exhaled the smoke and quickly downed your glass, making John snort. You pushed the glass towards Arthur, silently asking for a refill. He chuckled and shook his head but poured you another glass. Tommy was looking at the whole thing with an amused glint in his eyes. Once again you did your best to ignore him.

"Seeing a girl tonight? Is that why you're in a hurry?" Arthur teased.

You felt Tommy tense next to you, but you couldn't be sure and you didn't dare turn to look at him, not wanting to give yourself away.

You waved a hand. "I'm leaving them all to you, Arthur."

That made him laugh. "That's wise."

"You should have it easy now that Johnny is taken," you commented. Then you turned towards Tommy. "What about you, Thomas? I bet you have all the girls falling for you. What is it? Nobody is good enough for the great Thomas Shelby?" you teased.

"You're the only person who calls him that," John commented amusedly.

"And aunt Pol when she's angry," Arthur added.

Tommy stared at you seriously.

When you had given up on waiting for a reply and went to take a sip of your rum, Tommy finally spoke. "I already have my eyes on someone," he said quietly.

You choked on the rum and coughed. John patted your back. "You alright?"

You nodded and pulled at the collar of your shirt, although it didn't really do anything to help your situation. You did your best to compose yourself while Tommy tried to hide a small amused smile behind his cigarette.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" you asked when you finally managed to breathe again.

Arthur's boisterous laugh filled the room. "That would be some change."

Tommy paid him no mind and kept his glacial eyes on you. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Both his reply and Arthur's comment confused you. Before you could inquire further, you heard John's glass clink on the table, soon followed by Arthur's. Your eyes snapped to them as they got up.

"We're headin' to the Garrison. Are you coming?" Arthur asked.

"Uh... no. I should really go. I have work tomorrow."

John patted your back. "See you tomorrow?"

You nodded and they left. The last conversation had made you forget about John's guilty look at the beginning of the night.

You suddenly realized they had left you alone with Tommy. You cleared your throat and put out your cigarette into the ashtray, then downed the rest of your rum.

"I should really go."

You got up, but so did Tommy. He killed his cigarette. "I'll show you to the door."

You nodded stiffly and walked to the door. When you stopped at the hanger to get your coat, you found him closer than expected and your heart picked up.

"You like horses, don't you?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. You hated how cool he was about everything.

You nodded.

"You should come to the races once."

"Have you forgotten I go there for work sometimes?"

"Not for work."

Not again.

"It's not something I enjoy watching," you said shortly, then opened the door, anxious to leave that hallway that had never looked so small in your whole life.

"You might change your mind."

"I don't think I will," you insisted dryly, looking at him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message that you were talking about the whole situation.

You were doing everything you could to avoid Tommy, and it was not working. On the contrary, he was everywhere. He would pass by your house every time you were leaving for work and he would offer to walk or drive you there. You refused every time. You would meet him as you were walking by the cut. You would see him at a pub he had never frequented before. You even saw him at the market a couple of times. When you saw him in church you thought you were hallucinating. It seemed like the universe was working against you, but it was only Tommy Shelby, and maybe his family.

You opened the door and he held it open for you. "It's not a no."

You were surprised to find a little box on your desk at work on Monday. You looked around to see if any of your colleagues had noticed anything. They seemed to be minding their business as usual. You returned your attention to the box and opened it. A precious pocket watch was laid there, with a piece of paper. You picked up the note. You didn't recognize the handwriting. It read "counting the seconds to the moment you'll accept my offer."

John always found a way to mention him. He had never talked about Tommy as much as he had in the last few weeks. You pretended not to notice. You hoped Tommy would just give up at some point. How wrong you were.

You crushed the note in your fist and rolled your eyes, closing the box vehemently and shoving it in the only drawer in your desk that had a key. You locked it up. You thought you would deal with that later, but it was a busy day and you forgot until the next morning when something else was waiting for you on your desk.

It was your favourite book from when you were a kid. It was about horses. They were your favourite animals and obviously, Tommy somehow knew. You opened it and on the first page, with the same handwriting from yesterday's note, there was written "I think you'd really like to meet my horses. Think about it."

That evening you went to the Shelbys, hoping to find Tommy and give him back his presents. When Ada opened the door, you walked past her hastily.

You heard one of your colleagues calling you, so you quickly closed the book and threw it into the drawer where you had left the watch.

"Where is Thomas?" you asked looking for him around the house, startling the others, confused by your manners so out of character.

"He isn't back yet," Ada said, closing the door to follow you into the kitchen.

You let yourself fall down into a chair with a groan and discarded your hat on the table.

"Hello to you too," Polly piped up.

"Hi Pol, I'm sorry, but your nephew is trying to ruin me."

"Tommy?" Esme asked frowning. She wasn't a fan of him, but she was quite sure he would never do anything to ruin you.

"What are you talking about?" Polly asked taking a seat next to you.

"He is just being over dramatic." John waved a hand. You glared at him.

"Let him talk." Ada slapped his arm, making him roll his eyes. "What did Tommy do?"

You suddenly sobered up. You couldn't tell them. They wouldn't approve. You shook your head and got up. "It's nothing. I should just talk to him. I'm sure we can fix this."

"Where are you going? Stay for dinner." Polly stopped you gently.

Before you could refuse and leave, someone knocked.

Ada went to open the door.

"Hello, Ada." Thomas.

Ada was already telling him you were there looking for him when you walked up to him, hat in hand. He smiled smugly at you.

"Thought you would last longer," he commented.

You just looked at him as if you wanted to kill him.

Ada's eyes moved between the two of you.

"Would you mind leaving us, Ada?" Tommy asked, without taking his eyes away from you.

She rolled her eyes but did as she had been asked.

Once she was gone, you pulled the gifts out of your coat and shoved them into Tommy's chest. "You can take these back and leave me alone."

His hand raised slowly to take a hold of the items and he glanced down at them. "You didn't like them?"

"That's not the point. Stop fucking trying to ruin me. If I'm such a huge problem for you, why don't you pay my superior to transfer me somewhere else? Do you really hate me so much just because I'm not on your fucking payroll?"

He shook his head. "I'm not trying to ruin you."

"Really? Because sending me gifts at work tells me otherwise."

"I really am into you."

You scoffed. "Sure."

"What do I have to do to make you believe me?" his voice, quiet as usual, seemed to fill the entire house. Only then you realized the chatter that previously came from the kitchen had stopped. You glanced that way, then looked back at Tommy.

You lowered your voice. "If you care for me, stop this."

For the first time since you knew him, Tommy looked like he didn't know what to say.

You didn't wait for a reply. You just headed to the door, stopping in your tracks when Polly's voice came from the kitchen. "You're not staying for dinner?"

It was clear the others had listened in on your conversation.

You sighed. "Maybe next time."

You opened the door and stepped outside, putting your hat on.

Polly's interjection had given Tommy enough time to come up with something to say.

"Just give me one chance," he said quickly before you could leave. "We can go out of the city with the horses tomorrow afternoon. Nobody will see us. If after that you still want me to leave you alone, I will."

You turned to look at him and you hated yourself for being so weak.

The following day was nerve-wracking. No matter how you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about the date. The anxiety was eating at you. Part of you didn't want that afternoon to arrive, and another part was looking forward to it.

"One chance. Then you will leave me alone."

Time would not stop flowing for your sake, and soon you were making your way to meet with him out of the city. You asked the driver to drop you off way before the meeting point and walked the rest of the way.

Tommy was waiting for you with two horses. He smiled when he saw you, and you didn't know if it was knowing that this was the last chance you had given him or if that was actually the most genuine and happiest smile you had ever seen on his lips.

You smiled back. It was a very different smile from his. It was small and it had a hint of sadness to it. You wished this was real, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.

Without a word you got on the horses and guided them through the countryside. Sometimes Tommy would stop to show you something. He told you about his love for the countryside and that he would love to live there one day. He liked the idea of being surrounded by green fields and animals, especially horses, a passion the two of you shared. When you asked why he was so in love with the countryside, he explained that it made him feel closer to his mother. That was where her people lived and where she had grown up.

You hadn't realized, but at some point, you had relaxed. You and Tommy talked, joked, laughed and raced each other. Before you noticed the sun was setting. Tommy suggested you stopped to enjoy the view before heading back.

You got off the horses and sat down on the grass. You stayed silent for a while, simply admiring the colours of the sky. When you turned to look at Tommy, he was already watching you. You stared at each other for a few long moments before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"What's the verdict, then?" he finally asked, not looking at you.

"I had a good time with you," you admitted easily.

"But?"

"Is this really what you want? This life is... not great. So if you ever liked a girl in your life I suggest you go back to her and give it one more try."

"It's always been you and I know you are scared, but I sincerely don't give a fuck if you are a policeman or if you aren't on my payroll. We made arrangements to do our things when you're not on patrol just so you wouldn't have to arrest any of us. It wasn't much trouble. You are important to me, to all of us. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Your brain had gotten stuck on the first few words. "Always?"

"What?"

"You said it's always been me."

"Yes."

"Then why now?"

"Because I found out only recently that you like boys."

You frowned. "How did you find out?"

"I saw you with a man one night, in the alley behind the Garrison," he admitted.

"Oh... Right. So John didn't tell you."

"No, not a word. He would rather cut his own arm off than betray you."

"I know," you replied relaxing.

"But you thought he had told me."

"Maybe he had mentioned when he was drunk." You shrugged.

"I promise he didn't."

You nodded.

"I've had a crush on you for a while too," you said, still looking at him. You had long forgotten about the sunset. How could you look at something as trivial as the sun when you had Tommy Shelby right beside you?

"Yes?" he asked, hopeful.

You smiled and nodded. "It's impossible not falling for you."

He leaned closer but stopped a few inches away from your face. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Fucking finally Tommy, dinner was getting cold," Polly's voice came from the kitchen as you followed him inside the house that night.

"What are you waiting for, then?" was all that came out of your lips before they met his.

"Sorry Pol," he replied taking little Finn in his arms and putting his cap on his youngest brother.

He reached for your hand with his free one after you had hung your coat. You took it, although nervously. He had assured you that his whole family knew about him and that they would accept you but after a lifetime of being careful about everything you did and said, you couldn't just stop.

Tommy kissed your temple, hoping that would help your nerves.

You smiled at him, then winked at Finn who grinned back.

Tommy led you to the kitchen. "We have a guest," he announced. Everyone turned to look at you, and your grip tightened on Tommy's hand. They all seemed surprised.

"But it's not S-" Arthur was cut off by John shoving his elbow into his brother's ribs.

That seemed enough to shake Polly out of her surprise. "Of course!" She hugged you smiling. "You're always welcome."

You felt your nervousness melt away and hugged her back. "Thanks, Pol."

She pulled back and turned to her nephew, pointing a finger at him. "If you hurt him, Thomas Shelby, I'll make you pay for it."

"What?! Why are you telling me?" he asked putting Finn down.

"Well, because he would never do anything bad," she replied without even thinking about it.

"Wait, aunt Pol. He is my best friend, I should be the one to give Tommy the talk."

Tommy shook his head. "This is absurd."

"Come on, I'm sure he is more than capable to look after himself."

You nodded quickly, agreeing with Ada.

"And I'm sure Tommy won't do anything he might regret unless he wants to have the whole family against him," she added crossing her arms and glaring at him.

You sighed and turned to look at Tommy. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from them."

Tags: @one-green-frog

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b-a-n-a-n-a-ss · 1 year

Text

Peaky Blinders: Shelby’s x shelby!reader

Summary: the reader is poisoned when at a party. She returns home in an immense amount of pain. Then her brothers take care of her.

Warnings: crying, fluff, poison, vomit, throwing up, pain.

—————————

As [y/n] Shelby walked home from the party she had just attended; she noticed a pain growing in her stomach. It was sharp and she could hardly walk.

When she entered the Shelby household she had a arm wrapped around her stomach and her face scrunched in pain. She dropped her bag to the ground with a thud then she slowly sank to her knees as she clutched her stomach for dear life.

She moaned in pain as John walked over to her body. He kneeled down beside her and placed a hand on her back.

“[y/n]? Are you okay?” He asked as he slowly rubbed her back.

[y/n] only groaned and that was enough for John to pick her up and bring her to the couch. He gently laid her down and she cried out a little in pain. Johns heart ached watching his sister hurt.

“Arthur! Tom! Come down here!” John yelled then kneeled beside his younger sister, gently stroking her hair. Heavy footsteps approached the two and the eldest brothers came running into the living room. John quickly stood up and Tommy quickly took his place.

“What’s wrong [y/n]?” He asked. Y/n moaned and panted as she replied.

“M-my stomach hurts. Please make it stop Tommy.” She cried. Tommy put a hand on her sweaty forehead and frowned. She was burning up and her face had a blue color to it.

A sharp pain erupted in y/ns stomach and she clutched it and hissed violently. She started to sob and Tommy picked her up and brought her to the bathroom. The two brothers followed and Tommy sat her in front of the toilet.

Y/n moaned and she struggled to catch her breath.

“It hurts, it hurts so bad.” She screamed. Tommy knew what was happening, he had seen it before. She was poisoned.

“I know y/n I know.” Tommy whispered.

“Y/n I’m sorry to do this but I have to. It may hurt.” Tommy warned. Arthur kneeled behind the two and John stood at the doorway.

Tommy shoved his fingers down y/ns throat. She gagged then threw up into the toilet. Tommy did it again and she threw up for a second time. After the third time she was weaker than ever and she fell back into Arthur’s chest. She was shaking like a leaf and all her brothers felt horrible.

“Is it all gone? Will I feel better?” Y/n asked as she leaned her head into the crook Arthur’s neck. Tommy placed a hand on her knee and rubbed it comfortingly.

“I hope so y/n.” He said. John kneeled on y/ns other side and gently rubbed up and down her leg. Y/n swallowed thickly and nodded her head. She felt so cold and so weak. Arthur wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss to her head.

“I’m s-so cold.” Y/n whimpered.

“Let’s go out you to bed ‘eh?” Arthur asked. Y/n nodded and Arthur picked her up. He took her to her room and John moved the covers back. Arthur laid y/n down on her bed and covered her up. The three brothers looked down at their sister with sad eyes. She was still shivering and she looked so weak.

John kissed y/ns head and then left the room. The other two did the same and y/n was alone. She slept for a little bit until she woke up. Her stomach had a full ache in it and she got scared that she was going to have to throw up again.

She got up and walked downstairs. She had her blanket around her shoulders. She saw her two oldest brothers sitting on the couch smoking cigarettes and looking into the fire. Their low voices echoed through the living room.

Y/n entered the living room more and the two men looked at her and sat up.

“Are you okay y/n?” Tommy asked. Y/n moved and sat between her two brothers.

“My stomach hurts again.” She said. She looked up at Tommy with fear in her eyes.

“What if it didn’t all get out?” She asked with a slight quiver in her voice. Tommy rested his hand on his knee and shook his head lightly.

“It did, I promise. Stomach aches usually happen after that kind of thing.” Tommy said. Y/n nodded her head but winced a little as her stomach pain became more noticeable. She shuffled closer to Arthur and laid her head on his shoulder. Arthur draped his arm across her shoulders and laid his head ontop of hers.

Tommy leaned against y/ns other side and his head on her shoulder. He gently placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed it lightly. She sighed and nuzzled her head further into Arthur’s shoulders. Tommy kissed her cheek and continued to rub her stomach.

“Get some sleep y/n. Please, we’ll be right here if you need anything.” Arthur said and kissed her head one last time before the three of them fell asleep.

#fanfic #fanfiction #x y/n #fluff #x reader #reader insert #angst #y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #shelby sister #john shelby #peaky fucking blinders #party poison #hurtful

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toms-cherry-trees · 1 year

Text

Story Of Us|| John Shelby x Reader

Summary: Love is not always ideal. It comes hand on hand with grief

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: Infant/maternal death, grief, teen pregnancy, angst

Author’s note: Nothin to see here, move forward to the story. This took me 2 hours to write and I didn’t proofread one bit

John had always lived in a dilemma. Ever since his dad walked out on them, he tried to get approval from his family, the one thing he never received as a child.. But he only ended up being scolded. When he had to crack the news that he had knocked up Martha, both being just fifteen years of age, Polly hit him across the head with a wooden spoon, and Arthur had to hide him from Martha’s father, who had come for him with a musket.

John and Martha knew they were too young, but they were in love the way only teenagers can be, and the only way they would be allowed together was this. With a baby and the obligation to marry to preserve Martha’s honour. They were wed three months after the musket incident, Martha dressed in a borrowed white dress which did little to hide her rounded bump, and John stuffed in one of his father’s old suits, hastily tailored by Polly. Only the groom’s family was in attendance, since Martha’s father had kicked her out of the house.

Four months later a boy had been born in John’s own bed; a squirming, chubby thing with the most powerful lungs in the whole of Birmingham. Two more babies came in quick succession, another boy and another girl.

And then came the war.

In the time between their rushed marriage and 1914, John had managed to make more or less a living for himself. He had gotten his own home, being able at last to move Martha and the kids out of the cramped quarters of the family home. And they had a young girl from the area helping Martha rear the kids. Life seemed as perfect as it could get until the war struck and the war office came looking for them. Even though the conscription was voluntary at first, it would only be a matter of time before they came and dragged them out of their homes by their feet. John tested his luck as much as he could, even after Tommy and Arthur had already joined the front. But he had started to get dirty looks whenever he left the house, and one morning he woke up to his doorstep filled with chicken feathers. So he went, and left Martha with the kids and the nanny to hold up the fort in his absence.

None of them could know for certain how long they would be away, and it was worrisome to think it could be years before they returned, if they ever did, while the women in their lives were left to fend for themselves. Being granted leave to go home was a privilege mostly reserved for officers, and with John’s explosive nature and cockiness, he spent many months penalised without leave. The first time he managed to go home, in the second half of 1915, Martha and the kids had thrown themselves at his legs and his neck, unwilling to let him go.

In the two weeks he spent in Birmingham, he left Martha with child yet again. The news arrived with delay, as they do when you receive mail in the battlefield, and even more when said letters are heavily monitored by the officers. The letter had been sent a month and a day before it made it into his hands, but the news were not any less joyous, although tinted with a pang of guilt of not being there to support his wife. But John played his part, behaving like a good soldier for once in order to receive leave in time to see his newborn. They estimated the date for the first half of May 1916, a glorious spring.

But the thing is, letters carrying bad news move just as slow and delayed as the good ones. Even slower so, since the war office ordered anything that could tamper with the soldiers’ morale and spirits to be suppressed. John made the entire journey home, on truck, ship and train, only to find Martha had passed 4 weeks before his arrival, alongside their newborn girl. Polly had intercepted him on the train station, having seen him descend from the platform on her way from the market. The toothy grin tugging on his lips slowly fell into a frown as Pol grabbed his arm and practically tugged him into an alley to give him a resumed version of the events, but John didn’t want to hear. He didn’t care how, or why, or when. He only knew, as the ground swayed beneath his feet, that his sweet, lovely wife had left this world without him by his side, and had taken their babe with her to not be alone. Leaving John, aged 22, with a broken heart and 3 young children in the middle of a never ending war.

Polly and Tommy, who also happened to be on leave at that time, had made arrangements for everything after Martha’s passing. Polly had wanted to take in the children herself, to keep them under her wing. But when she even tried to take them out of the house, they clung to their nanny’s skirts like a lifeline, refusing to even step an inch away. Pol understood quickly that having just lost their mother and being in permanent threat of also losing their father, she couldn’t rip them away from the only stable person in their lives. So the girl, having grown deeply fond of her wards, moved into the home full time to look after them in every way a mother would, since the children had grown to love her like one.

When John returned home, he expected to find a gloomy and deserted place, with the hearth cold and empty and lamps out, much like he felt inside his own head. But of course reality rarely matches the expectations, whether good or bad. The children were laughing, playing with some wooden figurines on the carpet. Aged seven, five and three, they were already a force to be reckoned with, being able to mess a room in the blink of an eye. Yet here they were, playing happily under the caring gaze of their nanny. The four of them were startled by his arrival, with the kids scrambling over each other to jump into his arms, knocking over a chair and a side table, sending a vase with daisies crashing down. Home sweet home.

That night, after the kids were put to bed, John sat near the fireplace, nursing a glass of whiskey in his hands. Martha always warned him when the drinks began piling up on the table and his head; her voice whispering in his mind kept him from bringing the liquid to his lips, no matter how desperately he craved the numbness only spirits can provide.

You walked out of the kitchen, untying the apron from your waist. Most of the house chores were neglected during the day, since every waking hour was filled with rearing the little Shelbys. The oldest, David, would be starting school very soon, but you didn’t see how that would come to be, since he refused to be away from you for long. The youngest, Sarah, spent most of her day perched on your hip, although at 2 years of age she was already getting too heavy to carry. Theo, who had just turned five, acted as middle children often do, keeping mostly to himself and showing himself to be independent.

You hadn’t noticed John sitting there, since he was slumped on the floor, his head propped on the sofa and his legs splayed before him. His boots were nowhere to be found and his shirt discarded aside, leaving him only in undershirt. You would have just walked past him if he hadn’t called your name.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes Mr. Shelby?”

“Sit here for a little bit”

Perplexity was not quite the word to describe what you felt, but it came close enough. You had never been afraid of your boss; he and Martha had offered you a job when you most needed it, and they even treated you as a friend, since you were only a year younger than them. You were the one who mediated between them when things got tense, as often happened when very young people were thrusted abruptly into adult life; resentment inevitably building up on the grave of robbed childhood and dreams. And you were the one who took the kids out of the house when they inevitably made peace with each other.

But the situation had changed; the wife dead, the husband away, and you had basically become owner and lady of the home in the meantime, forced to step up for the babies you had known nearly since the cradle. Perhaps taking attributions that didn’t belong to you, but everything done with the best intentions in your heart.

You sat in the armchair farthest away from him, your body perched on the very edge of the seat and your legs laced at the ankles.

John doubted his words, still swirling the whiskey in the glass. Not a tear had left track on his cheeks, but the corners of his eyes were reddened, like those of a man who had learned, either willingly or by force, to hold back emotions.

“Were you here when…when Martha…” The phrase was left hanging in the air

“Yes I was. I had been staying full time already, in case the baby came at night”

Silence. Words slowly dawning on his mind fogged by barely contained grief.

He swallowed thickly “What happened?”

You closed your eyes and breathed in slowly. You knew he would eventually ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you. The desire to know something could turn almost morbid the longer the answer was denied, but you didn’t want to give the grisly details with the wound so fresh, so you hoped he would content with the shortened version.

“The baby came too early, more than a month. And then it got stuck, and the labour dragged on for too long. The girl was….born sleeping. She named her Katie. And then Mrs Shelby caught an infection” You stopped there, hoping the vague narration would be enough explanation so you could avoid the more sensible details.

John nodded slowly, his gaze only fixated in his whiskey glass “Did she…did she say anything? Before she…”

“Mr. Shelby…” You protested, not believing him ready to hear it all

“Just say it!” The words came a lot more harshly than he intended, but they had been dropped and couldn’t be taken back.

You nodded and looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your apron “She told me to look after her babies. And to look after you. She told me we should not be sad for long, because she hated sad faces and life was sad enough as it was and her loved ones had to live happy lives on her behalf. She only asked…she asked that we made sure her kids never forgot about her” Your lower lip trembled. Holding her hand as life slipped away from her had been traumatic for you as well; like watching your own older sister die under your watch.

Your last words broke something inside John. At first, barely perceptible, his lower lip trembled and his eyes glazed while he pondered over his wife’s last words. Then all of a sudden the floodgates opened, tears coursing freely down his cheeks as sobs racked his body. The glass fell and shattered, and you, always acting on maternal instinct, tried to pull him away from the carpet so he wouldn’t land his hand on the shards. But in the brief second your hands touched him, John clung to your waist in the same fashion his eldest son did when he had a nightmare. The force of his embrace pulled you down on the floor, his head burrowed on your lap and his fingers digging on the fabric of your blouse. You had no words to console him, for sometimes, there is no real consolation. So you did the best you could, which was letting him cry out his sorrow and anger in the same apron that had wiped his children’s tears; while you rubbed soothing circles in his back. John cried it all out until his tears had run dry and his frantic heartbeat stilled. Crying is usually followed by drowsiness, and before you knew it your boss had fallen asleep on your lap, soothed by the faint scent of lavender on your clothes. You didn’t want to move him and disrupt the feeble stillness of peace, so you sat there all night, your head perched on the sofa and your hand on his back, dwelling on the creaking of the fire in the hearth.

It couldn’t be helped, the way the bond you and John had of mere friendship morphed into something else. Ever since Martha’s passing, John had managed to squeeze pity out of the war office, being granted leave more often than others to see his children. In the meantime, you took marvellous care of them, and they loved you maybe even more than they loved him.

The way he became drawn to you may seem rushed, but it came from a place of grief. A man with his heart in tatters, finding comfort in the arms that hugged and cuddled his children. Every time he returned home on leave, his barely retained sorrow spilled out the second he crossed the threshold of his home and the memories came crashing like an avalanche. Instead of getting better, he seemed to slowly grow worse. Could it be the grief, could it be the war, seeing his children more grown and mature every time he came, or a mixture of everything, but each leave it became harder to enter his home, and at the end it became harder to return to the front.

John spent many hours of his day locked in his bedroom, splayed on his bed accompanied by a whiskey, inhaling the fading scent of lotion on Martha’s nightgown. More than once you had to threaten to break in through the window in order to coax John into coming out and eating. The children barely noticed his behaviour, far too accustomed to his absence by now, but it pained you to see him miss out on every precious second he could spend with his family, knowing well it could be the last. Not wanting to be mindless of his pain, you gave him a few days to settle and then forced him out of the shell. No one would be called to dine until he came to sit with you all; you would go out to shop alone, making him watch the kids; if one of them had a nightmare at night, you knocked on his door and made him go and lull them back to sleep. You knew it was hard for him, but this is what Martha would have wanted. She wanted John to carry on living, and that he would do, with you behind to support him.

But you never expected to catch feelings in the process. Never had you thought about him as any more than your boss and friend, not before Martha and certainly not after. But looking after him, being his strength at home, even more so than his blood family, it is hard for feelings to not get tangled in the middle. You were the one who saw him sob his eyes out over a picture in the middle of the night: the one who bandaged his hands when he beat the wall in a fit of rage over the unfairness of life, and the one who kept that little family up and running.

On one of his last leaves, in October of 1918, he had, for the first time, sat with all of you for dinner on his first back home without threats or begging. As you served the stew, John cleared his throat to call attention “Tomorrow we are going out. It is a little surprise, but I promise we will have fun”

The children jumped in excitement. It had been far too long since they had all gone out as family, and the prospect of a day out with dad was the best outlook ever. You smiled as you poured a glass for John “What time do you need the kids ready, Mr Shelby?”

“Everyone ready at 10, and I mean everyone. You are coming with us of course, it is a family day”

Your breath hitched in your throat and heat rose to your cheeks, but you just nodded, hiding your shyness behind your glass. The next day the five of you went to an apple orchard, right on time as the sweetest fruits were being harvested. The children ran rampant across the field with wicker baskets, collecting dropped fruits which they would be able to exchange at the end of the day for candy. John and you followed closely behind, both in silence but enjoying the sounds of nature and the laughter of the kids. The autumn leaves crunched beneath your feet making a most delicious sound. For a day, you could all pretend that war had never happened and life was more or less normal. At the end, the children dropped the apples in big wooden troughs, and in exchange were given toffee apples. John bought you two pints of cider which you drank together, sitting under a tree while watching the children play with other kids and trying to sneak more candied apples from the stand

“Look at that, David stole an apple” Far from being outraged, you found the situation amusing “He is your son alright”

John chuckled “Are you insinuating I am a thief, Miss (Y/N)”

“Martha told me all the tales of your youth, Mr. Shelby. Stealing candy is one thing, but stealing liquor from a bar is an extraordinary prowess” You smirked

John’s demeanour dropped ever so slightly at the name, but he was quick to pick himself up “I miss her. She should be here watching the children grow. There should be a toddler here with us, and another baby on the way”

“Missing is part of grieving” You patted his hand “It means you lived and loved. Even if you stop grieving you’ll never stop missing”

John pondered over your words, staring at the bottom of his pint “Thank you for being here…if you hadn’t been here, we would all have fallen apart. I would have fallen apart but you glued me back together out of your pure stubbornness so I would be there for me kids” John squeezed your hand “You have saved us all”

You chuckled “Saviour is a bit too far I’d say. But I am glad I could be of help. You are a good man John, and you deserve good things” It dawned on you a second too late that you had called him by his first name. The apologies were already piling in your tongue but John laughed it out “Seven bloody years it took you to call me John”

You could only join in on his infectious laughter, feeling the worries flutter away. It had been a while since he last laughed, and you took it as a sign of his healing. The rest of the evening went in a blissful blur, with you two sharing bites of an apple while he picked fallen leaves off your hair, and having to haul all three kids home in your arms, them too tired to walk. John surprised you with having stuffed his coat’s wide pockets with apples, and you surprised him in return with a homemade apple pie.

You enjoyed every day of his leave, dreading the moment he would once more part. The children had, now that they were older, come to resent his absences, and it always broke them a little to have him return only to leave, perhaps forever, over and over and over again. But one the last day, right before being due to leave, John arrived back after being out all morning, loaded with parcels and gifts. He had received news from the war office to not return to his post, for truce would be called in less than a week. The men would return home and the nightmare would be over.

“Tonight we celebrate like never before!”

Everyone received presents that day. The children received toys, John sent gifts for his aunt and siblings, and he even bought you a new dress. That night you feasted like you had never before, the evening topped with a marvellous store bought cake and the children falling asleep earlier than usual, stuffed with turkey and cake. After they were put to bed, it was only John and you before the fire, passing back and forth a bottle of champagne. The day was for joy and celebration and all boundaries had been torn down. You two were laughing just for the sake of laughter and the relief of having survived hell.

“So what happens now, once the Shelbys are back on track?” You inquired curiously “Business as usual?”

“I reckon men will be eager to vent off steam and enjoy the things they missed out. I promise the den will be up to the beams with patrons. Future is looking bright” He took a swing of the bottle, foam trickling down the side of his lip. You reached up to wipe the liquid with the back of your hand. John eyed you curiously before bringing up a far different topic.

“Have you thought about getting married?”

You did very poorly in hiding your surprise “Me? Married? Why do you ask?”

He simply shrugged “You are a lovely young lady, in the prime of your life. Surely don’t you plan on spending the rest of your days taking care of other people’s kiddos?”

A smirk tugged on your lips “Are you planning on firing me, Mr. Shelby?”

“Wouldn’t dare to, love. Just wanting to know if someone is knocking at your heart”

Oh someone was knocking at your heart at the very moment. Your heartbeat hammered your ribs, ready to escape off your chest out of your mouth. “No one is, Mr. Shelby”

Those words had barely made it out when his lips came crashing into yours, his warm hand cradling your jaw, the other placed in the middle of your back and pulling you close. His lips were soft and gentle, and his hands kept a firm grip on you. Your own hands came to lay on his chest, feeling his fluttering heartbeat under your touch. The kiss seemed to last forever and nothing at the same time. When he pulled away you were out of breath, but also wanted to keep going until time ended. When John broke the kiss, he remained close enough to lean his forehead on yours.

“I didn’t screw it up, did I?” A boyish grin played on his lips.

“Not one bit, not at all” Your index traced the side of his jaw, feeling the muscles tense as his smile widened

“So you won’t mind it I test my luck again” And just like that, his lips once more came onto yours, this time both hands on your waist as your arms came around his neck. It was funny, but in that moment you knew, after just one kiss, that you never wanted to kiss any other lips but his, nor feel any other hands’ on your waist or your hair.

You knew his grieving had not come to an end, and he would continue to love his first wife to the end of his days. But that did not mean he did not have space in his heart for you, nor that he would feel for you any less. It only meant he had lived, and would continue to do so with you.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #john shelby and reader #john shelby and you #shelby reader #reader insert #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #john shelby one shot #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #john shelby fic #marsie writes

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cosmic-crybaby · 1 year

Text

Blue Skies- Tommy Shelby

Summary: Sparks fly when a self-sufficient, newly single mother meets the cold-hearted bachelor gangster of Birmingham. On their first outing, it was like everything in the world was asking for them to finally meet each other. But when fate intervenes, they soon find themselves suffering the reprocussions of their own decisions.

Rating: Mature, Minors DNI plz

Warnings: Warnings will be advised on each chapter.

Story Playlist

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witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female reader, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this, I kinda changed it and I’m so sorry it took this long. Love ya 🌻

ESTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Neutral

Leo Sun, Gemini Moon, Sagittarius Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ You first met at your work - the local bakery.

⭑ The smells from the building hit John like a beautiful ocean wave; pastries, cakes, cookies, pies. (He definitely has a sweet-tooth.)

⭑ And he couldn’t resist the temptations of entering the bakery

⭑ It soon became his favourite place to visit, since the food was good and the service was ... great

⭑ You bring the Shelby’s fresh baked goods every morning, knowing each of their order; which puts you in everyone’s good books

⭑ They await your arrival every morning, even Tommy, who grumbles that he’s doing some paperwork

⭑ John soon developed a crush on you, which turned into full-on feelings that he couldn’t ignore

⭑ In your relationship, John shows his love through physical touch. He likes to know that you’re physically near him, and that he can do whatever he pleases with you

⭑ He’s a loud snorer

⭑ And when you’re in bed, he’ll end up throwing half his body on top of yours

⭑ John gets so excited when you bring home left-overs from the bakery

⭑ He gets on well with your family, especially any siblings that you may have

⭑ John is able to bring the energy up in any room he walks in to. That’s one of the reasons why you love him. He can turn any frown upside down

⭑ He probably wouldn’t mind you getting into the family business. But is adamnt that you’re not anywhere near danger, or even potential danger.

⭑ He gets jealous very easily, and if he sees someone eyeing you than he will literally punch them in the face

⭑ You’re usually the one who wakes up first, and most of the time, you have to wake John up

⭑ You’re protected because of your association with the Shelby’s. And your business never runs out of customers

Relationship Tropes:

Dumbass (John) x Oh I Guess That’s My Dumbass (You)

Elusive Chaotic Duo

Partners In Crime

NSFW🔞 minors dni!

⭑ John absolutely loves receiving head; it’s like he’s in heaven. The way your mouth closes around his cock, pushing it further and further down your throat.

⭑ He whines, not groaning or moaning, but whines. Little whimpers too.

⭑ Very much likes to be dominated

⭑ And would love if you tied him up on the bed and took control

⭑ Will have sex anywhere and everywhere

⭑ “John, your brothers could walk in any second!”

“So?”

⭑ Doesn’t like sharing and hates the thought of you being with anyone else

⭑ Probably has a corruption kink

⭑ Loves pulling your hair

⭑ And of course, doggy style is his favourite position

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writerdream22 · 2 years

Text

requested by: anonymous, I sincerely hope you like this ✨

pairings: John Shelby x wife!reader

warnings: none

feedbacks are always welcome!

You crumbled the sheet of paper you'd been writing on for the past hour, and groaned in frustration as it landed on the endless pile of discarded chapters and dialogues that you'd thought about during the day.

What you were working on was supposed to be a children's book, and you couldn't get to write anything more than a couple of lines. Even though what was outside of your house wasn't very inspiring for the genre you were currently invested in, what was inside it was supposed to be a good if not the best source of inspiration; you were surrounded by children 24/7, after all.

Just as you were about to start writing again, your husband barged into your office holding your three-year-old child in his arms; soon after he was followed by his other children, who immediately started running around.

“What the— John!” you exclaimed. “Love, this is important” he interrupted you “Way more important that what you're working on!”.

“What is it? Come on, I need to get back to work as soon as I can. Then, I have to prepare lunch and I don't want to fall behind on my schedule” you stated, warning the man who shushed his children before answering your question.

“They loved it!” he exclaimed, smiling widely, putting your child down. “Who loved what, my dear?” you responded, now more confused than ever.

“The kids, they loved the book!” your husband then clarified. “The duck in the blue coat?” you questioned, to which John excitingly responded “The duck in the blue coat! It got them all to sleep! I'm so proud of you, love!”. Then, he hugged you tightly.

“They want the next protagonist to be a fox” he murmured “Do you think you could make it happen?”

“Of course. Anything for my children”

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mindful-of-ideas · 8 months

Text

Hot Summer Days

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: At the end of the summer, Thomas decides it's time for the family to go on a well-deserved beach vacation. While you only work for him, you wound up getting invited.

A/N: I tried to leave this open in regards to pairing, hopefully it worked but maybe it feels like everyone is flirting with you. Also, this was supposed to be an imagine but you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find the proper gif sometimes.

It came to you as a surprise when you heard that the Shelby family was planning a trip to the beach. Sure, you knew they could use the break and deserve some time away from the city, especially Finn, but that they would acknowledge that was surprising. Almost unsettling if you were being honest.

If something suspicious was looming under this trip, you had to make sure no one was going to get hurt.

Not physically, of course, but emotionally. This had slowly became your job ever since you got hired by Thomas Shelby himself. Officially, you were his secretary. Making sure papers were in order, reminding him of official and officious meetings, seeing that the boys weren’t too rowdy in the betting shop. Just your average secretary job. Things changed when it became apparent that you needed a desk and the only place available was near the entrance of the betting shop. Now, your job included greeting everyone as they came in. Slowly, you picked up on their habits. Arthur was not to be talked to before he had his coffee. Thomas would always greet you but only nod in your direction if something was on his mind. John would always take the time to talk to you. Finn would stop running up and down the shop if you took the time to ask him what he learned today. Ada only popped by when she needed something from Thomas or when she was sad and needed someone to listen to her. Esme, even if she would never admit it, always gushed over all of John's kids. Arthur takes his coffee black but with one sugar; it’s nicer on his stomach he says.

So if this trip the the beach was just a cover-up for something bigger, something nastier, you had to know. Otherwise, life could become unbearable at the betting shop.

You barely had a foot in the door when a loud voice yapped at you.

“Y/N, my office,” said Thomas sternly, “Now.”

The room had gone quiet. You quickly glanced at John but he looked as confused as you did. Could Thomas have known about what you were planning on asking him? Could he take offence to that? Maybe you got too eager, put your nose where you shouldn’t have? Could he even fire you for that? You couldn’t afford to lose this job. You couldn’t afford to get fired by the Shelbys out of all people.

You stepped into Thomas’ office shaking, your palms sweating.

“Please, sit down,” Thomas said gesturing to the chair facing him across his desk.

You did, maybe a little bit too slowly. You stared at your shoes, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Y/N, is everything okay? You look pale.”

If there was genuine worry in his voice, you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing that was now in your ears.

“I’m… I’m fine…” you finally said, “Just a bit tired I guess…”

“That’s perfect then,” he said clapping his hands together and making you jump, “Not that you are tired of course, that’s not what I meant… I…”

Now hearing his hesitation, you looked up. Thomas seemed uncomfortable. He was slowly scratching the back of his head, looking down, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“I meant… I was planning on taking everyone, the whole family, away on a vacation. To the beach as you may have heard. And I real vacation I might add. Just the sun, the waves, and… what I mean is… would you come with us?”

With his question, he looked up at you but your gaze had gone back to the floor.

“Y/N?” he asked quite firmly.

You looked up again.

“That’s better,” he said, “Now, will you come?”

But you were too stoned to say anything. Not only the vacation plan was real but you could go with them as well.

“It’s just that, you know, Finn really seems to like you,” Thomas started, “And so does Ada and Esme… it would be really nice if you could make it…“

Was he trying to convince you?

“… can get a word out of Arthur before noon. And with John, you’re just…”

“Yes!” you blurted out before he could finish, “I’ll be there!”

“Great!” he said smiling at you, “We leave tomorrow morning. Be here at 6:30 sharp.”

He gestured towards the door, inviting you to leave before getting back to his work.

As you got out of the office, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, you were thrilled to get the time off and to go out with people you might just start calling friends, but mostly you were happy to know that your work had not gone unnoticed. But you barely had time to enjoy the moment. You could only take a few steps towards your desk before feeling a hard slap on your back. You turned around, a bit angry only to see a beaming Arthur.

“Moving up the ladder I see,” he said excitedly, “Next thing you know you’ll be part of the family! I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he added more quietly.

As soon as the day was over, you rushed home. 6:30 a.m. was early. Way too early. You still had to find clothes and your swimsuit. You hoped it still fit you. Living in Birmingham, there are not many opportunities to go to the beach. The last time you saw the ocean was probably well over ten years ago. You were still a child back then. But your mother had always told you to be ready for anything, so a few years back, after seeing that it was on sale, you bought a swimsuit. Just in case. Just in case you got invited by Thomas fucking Shelby to go to the beach with his family. In what world could something like this happen.

This one apparently. And your mother would tell you to seize the day and not look back. You grab the only bag big enough to fit all your things. Swimsuit, check. Towel, check. Sunglasses, check. Sandals, check. Hat, check. You went down your list until everything was in your bag. In the end, it was much and the bag closed easily. It was already past midnight when you finally laid on your bed and went to sleep.

At 6:30 a.m. sharp, the cars left for the ocean. You ended up squeezed between an overexcited Finn and a less-than-happy Arthur. It was way too early for him.

The ride wasn’t too long, just a little over two hours. As soon as you got out of the car, you were met with a whirling wind. Your hair danced crazily in front of your eyes. With one hand holding your bag you struggled to keep it under control.

“Here,” said Esme, “give your bag to John, I’ll help you.”

Still half blind, you lifted up your bag in front of you, hoping that this was where John was.

“Now,” said Esme raking her hands through your hair, “let me take care of this for you.”

Gently, she combed your hair back and started braiding it. A few strands from the front of your head escaped and started dancing in the wind again.

“You tell me if I hurt you,” she said. But you couldn’t hear a thing over the wind that has now picked up again.

“What!” you said hoping to be loud enough.

She leaned in closer to you.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” she whispered gently in your ear.

You nodded slightly, not wanting to move too much and ruin your hair. A few moments later, she was done. You felt the cold wind on your neck before Esme wrapped her arm around it.

“Let’s go find the boys now!” she said before forcing you down the sandy hills and towards the beach.

When you got there, Thomas and John were already laying blankets under beach umbrellas while Arthur was still struggling to put his up. You knew asking him if he needed help was a bad idea but you had no other choice.

“Need a hand,” you asked gently.

He was struggling with keeping the umbrella at the right angle while hammering it down for it to stay in place. He grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear but took as a ‘yes’. You got to your knees and grabbed the umbrella with both hands. Arthur inclined it properly before hammering down a rock on its top. It took a few hits but it eventually was deep enough in the sand for it to hold in place.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, “You’ll wanna sit with me?”

“Sure,” you said grinning.

You placed down your towel by his before grabbing your bag again.

“Does anyone know where we can get changed?” you asked, mostly looking towards Ada and Esme.

“There’s a hut right by there,” Thomas answered first, vaguely pointing behind him towards yet more sandy hills.

“I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,” you mumbled passing right by him.

And you did. Not far from where you had settled, there were a dozen of brightly coloured cabins all lined up neatly by a boardwalk. You quickly changed, keeping on an oversized shirt to cover your shoulder from the sun. It used to be your dad and went down to your mid-thigh. After a quick glance at yourself, you decided it was best to leave the last few buttons open. It looked better, but mostly it felt more comfortable.

You walked back down to the beach, your arms interlaced with Ada and Esme’s. Even from far away, you could see the boys running on the beach. What they were running for was however unclear.

“Are they…?” you started, not sure how to finish your question.

“Playing football?” Ada completed, “Yes! It’s been such a long time since I played with them too, come on!”

With that, she started running, dragging Esme and you behind her. Quickly, the teams were changed as you ended up facing Thomas, John and Esme. Your team was losing. Badly. Something about being too aggressive and not having enough strategy. As Ada and Arthur blocked the other team, you managed to get ahold of the ball. Without missing a beat, you ran up your makeshift field. As you were about to kick the ball, and hopefully score, John came out of nowhere, trying to steal it from you. You struggled to push him back, unknowingly drifting towards the water.

“It’s over Y/N!” roared John.

“Unless…” you started while trying to outsmart him.

You kicked the ball in between John’s legs and took a step forward trying to get control of it. But John stepped forward too, making you tumble backwards. Next thing you knew, you were in the water, John over you.

“Oh shit, sorry,” said John quickly getting up and offering you a hand.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said between two coughs.

He pulled you up with a little bit more strength than you expected. You stumbled forward, catching yourself on John’s chest.

“Woah, easy there,” he said taking your hand and his.

“Sorry…” you said feeling the red rise to your cheeks.

“I’m messing with you, come on!” he said gently pushing the ball towards you.

Quickly, you took the ball back and sprinted towards the goal, scoring. The game went on, the score tied. As you tried to get in one last goal, you and Finn kicked the ball at the same time, sending it flying away.

“I’ll get it,” you both said at the same time, sprinting towards the ball.

The ball came to a stop in front of three tall men, all dressed in black suits.

“So sorry to have disturbed you,” you said politely, “We’ll just get the ball back…”

But one of the men put his feet on it before picking it up from the ground.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble…” you said now more quietly feeling that the situation was escaping your control.

“And what can someone as pretty as you give me in exchange for the ball?” the man asked stepping towards you.

You stepped back, but Finn stepped in front of you.

“Kid, move out the way,” the man said, pushing Finn to the side.

Finn struggled to keep his balance but came right back by your side.

“Now, come on,” the man went on, “I’m sure you can think of something.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Finn whispered in your ear, “If they get too close, I’ll fight them off.”

You had trouble believing him after what you had just witnessed, but the thought was still comforting.

“You know what,” the man said, “Maybe I’ll just take what I want.”

He dropped the ball and made his way up to you. Finn grasped your hand and you held it as tight as you could. Before you could even will your body to run away, a loud voice snapped at the man.

“Don’t take another step,” Thomas said from behind you.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He hesitated for a moment and then started laughing.

“Oh, come on man. I’ll let you have a turn after if that’s what you want.”

You looked over your shoulder. Thomas looked serious, dead serious, but you could tell there was a point of anger in him.

“Finn, get a move on,” he said walking towards you.

Finn went running back to his family. Thomas wrapped an arm around your shoulder, making you realize that you were shivering.

“Now,” Thomas said calmly, “you have two choices. Either you turn around and leave this beach, or you take another step forward and I make sure you, your friends and your whole family can never see the sun again.”

“Mate, come on! We were just having some fun,” the man said still smiling.

Somehow, that creeped you out even more and made you want to disappear from that man’s sight. You made yourself as small as possible against Thomas.

“Mate…” the man said now hesitating as Thomas’s face was still serious.

“Have you heard of the Peaky Blinders?” Thomas asked slowly.

But before you knew it, the men had turned away and were gone.

“You’re okay Y/N?” Thomas asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah… yeah I think I’m fine.”

“Let’s get back to the others,” he said.

“Y-yes.”

He kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly grasping your shirt sleeve.

The rest of the day went by quietly. Before you knew it, it was time to leave and go back to gloomy Birmingham.

“Can we get like ten more minutes?” Ada asked Thomas.

“No,” he answered simply.

“Five then,” she pleaded, “I promise, just five more minutes.”

“Fine,” Thomas finally agreed.

“Y/N, with me,” she ordered as she ran up the beach.

You were back by the boardwalk, but Ada made you turn away from the rainbow cabins this time. After just a few steps, you understood why she had brought you here. Ice cream.

“We’ll take two vanilla, two chocolate and one strawberry,” she said, “and it’s my treat,” she added before you could even say anything.

“Wha- well thanks,” you said slightly embarrassed.

As the vendor started handing the ice creams to her, she stuffed two in your hands.

“Yours and mine,” she said.

“Strawberry,” you said smiling, “you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” she said, “Now let’s go before they melt.

Giggling you made your way back down the hill. This truly had been the most amazing summer day.

#mindful-of-ideas #peaky blinders #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fic #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #ada shelby #esme shelby #reader insert #reader x shelby #ahhhhh my first one shot on the revamp blog hopefully you like it

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worldofworldz · 1 year

Text

PLEASE SOMEONE SEND A REQUEST!!!!

Anything goes. I also write for slashers

#request #reader insert #john shelby #pbsmut #slashers #peaky blinders #anything goes #thomas shelby #thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers #bo sinclair #bubba sawyer #x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #Tcm 2003/2006

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too-many-baes · 2 years

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The Wandering Shelby’s

Pairing: fem!Shelby!reader x Shelby Brothers

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2.4K

Request: “Can I request a Tommy Shelby x daughter where she goes to a nightclub on her 18th birthday, and he, Arthur and John follow her to make sure she’s alright” - by Anon

A/N: Day four Non-Stop August! This is an old request that had been sitting there for a while since my hiatus, and I was only too happy to get to it now. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, so thank you for the idea!

“Okay bye Dad!” You yell as you shrug your short fur shawl on top of your shoulders. You’d almost reached the front door and thought you’d hit your timing perfectly, but the signature abrupt yell from your father had you looking up and cursing the sky. So close.

“I don’t think so, come in here.” You grumble and stomp your heel at the door for effect before you shuffle your way into the living area. What you found was not an unusual sight, your father, Thomas Shelby, smoking a cigarette with your uncles, Arthur and John. When you appear in the doorway you’re met with absolute silence. Tommy finishes the large puff he’d been taking, blowing it out nonchalantly and shaking his head as he did.

“I don’t think so.” You raise your eyebrow defiantly and shrug your shoulders.

“You don’t think so, what?” You catch Arthur hiding a smirk out of the corner of your eye, but know better than to stand down to a stare off when it was your father involved.

“Get changed, you’re not wearing that.” You looked down to assess yourself.

You had gone and bought yourself a new dress for your birthday, with permission of your father of course, and that was what you had put on. The garment was a deep green and completely covered in sequins right down to your midthigh, where the hem of the garment ended and the delicate fringing that reached your knees began. You knew the piece was a little on the racy side of things, with a v neck line that showed off more of your cleavage than you had ever dared before. You weren’t purposely trying to upset your father though, and had the good sense to put on a pair of fine fish net tights underneath and the black fur shawl that hung around your shoulders.

“I absolutely am wearing this, you said I could buy a new dress.” Tommy’s eyes slightly widened at your statement.

“And that’s what you bought? When I said a dress,” he said your name in his signature parental scolding tone that you had grown accustomed to over the last 18 years, “I meant a dress, not whatever scraps of fabric they could find at the shop.” You let a very unbecoming whine escape your lips at his scolding that had both of your uncles laughing.

“This is what everybody is wearing.”

“Well, no Shelby would be caught dead in it, you have the family name to uphold I’ll remind you.”

“Oh c’mon Tommy,” John piped up, “it’s her 18th, let the girl have some fun.” You smiled over at John, the uncle you could always count on to have your back on matters such as these. You often put it down to him being the youngest of the three and having a little more of a party streak than what you ever imagined your father had.

A honking from outside pulled your focus, looking at the door quickly and then back at your father.

“That would be Helen, and my cue to leave.” You walk over to a still complaining Tommy and press a kiss onto his cheek, his stern gaze not wavering at the gesture.

“I still wish you’d have let me tell Ada.”

“There’s no way I’d have let her come.” You yell from the hallway. You scoop up your beaded black clutch from the hallway table and yell a goodbye to the three men, hearing an array of ‘be careful’s’ and ‘don’t drink to much’s’ follow you out the door. You shake your head at your worrying family. They’d been the same way ever since you’d been a little girl, and although you didn’t really think they’d stop as you got older, a girl could dream.

Another honk from the car pulls you out of your thoughts and has you running to meet the ever impatient Helen, who looked stunning in a red tiered fringe number.

“Happy birthday!” Your best friend squealed, pulling you into a bone crushing hug once you were seated in the back with her. Helen was your best friend and two years older than you, so she had been more than delighted when you’d asked her to be your guide around town for the night.

If you’d have been any other teenager you would have been sneaking in to clubs years ago, but your father kept a close eye on you. And as much as you liked to play the rebel, you had listened to your father when he’d said people would know who you were and know that you’d have been underage.

So here you were giggling with your friend as she popped a bottle of champagne for the car ride, chauffer taking you to your first stop of the night.

*******

You were sweaty, tired, and more than a little tipsy, but that was not stopping you as you and Helen continued to dance, flailing your legs and arms around to the beat of the music.

You were currently in club number four. You’d lost track of the time after club two, too happy and giggly to be caring about such trivial things.

Helen motioned behind her, wordlessly telling you that she was going to grab you both another drink each. You nodded happily, pointing to where you were stood to indicate you’d be right here.

The song changed when Helen had reached the bar, slowing down to a tempo that had the men and women who had previously been bopping suddenly pulled in close and swaying. You were about to exit the dance floor and join Helen at the bar when a tapping on your shoulder had you pausing and turning.

There stood a man who was a complete stranger to you holding out his hand and looking at you with a smirk on his face. On any other night you’d have said no, but it was your birthday, and you felt like enjoying this night to the fullest.

You accepted the dark haired mans hand, and he swiftly pulled you in so your bodies were pressed firmly against one another. The hand you’d taken stayed holding yours while the other placed itself at a respectable height on your waist.

“Richard.” He stated simply as your hand went to rest on his shoulder after it had snaked it’s way up the length of his arm first. You replied with your own name, a coy smile on your face as you did. The smile and gesture brought a larger smile to his face as he leant down to your ear to ask you a question. The words got lost in translation as you noticed someone at the bar talking to Helen that pulled all of your focus.

At the first club you’d thought you’d noticed the shaved side of a ginger head in passing that looked suspiciously like Uncle Arthur. At club two, a tweed flat cap that looked like it belonged to Uncle John, and at club three you could’ve sworn you’d seen your father at the door as you’d entered, smoke billowing from his mouth.

Now, there was no denying it. Sat at the bar talking to Helen was indeed your father and it made you furious. A small excuse to Richard had you leaving his question ignored as you broke from the embrace and high tailed it to the bar before Tommy could notice. As you got behind him you caught a snippet of their conversation.

“Of course I’ve been looking out for her Thomas, I would never let anything happen.”

“Oh yeah,” he said accompanied by a scoff, “is that why she’s on the dancefloor right now with some creeps hands all over her?” He whipped his head to where you’d left Richard to prove his point, where his eyes widened in panic at no longer finding you there.

“Looking for something, or should I say, someone?” Your voice had him frozen on the spot, stuck in the knowledge that he’d been caught in the act. When he finally turned to look at you, he saw you stood there with your hands on your hips and the signature Shelby annoyance plastered on your face.

“Look darling-”

“Don’t ‘look darling’ me Dad, what the hell are you doing here?” His mouth, that had been hanging open upon being interrupted, snapped shut as you could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to figure out how he could explain his way out of this.

“Alright so his name is Richard Quinn and he works at the offices in town. Now I reckon that…” You spun around to find Arthur standing there, obviously having not noticed your presence until he had dug himself in too deep.

“Thank you Arthur.” Tommy’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he pulled out a cigarette with a sigh.

“Oh so you’re spying on the people I talk to as well? Stalking not enough for you lot?” Both men refrained from speaking as you stood there shaking your head at them. “Right then, I’ve had it.” Quick as a flash you scoop up your belongings that Helen had been sitting by and march to the door. Once outside you lean up against the building and take what was supposed to be a grounding breath of cold air.

You thought you could feel yourself calming down until you noticed John Shelby stood on the opposite side of the wall you were on, debating whether or not to hide or stay put and hope for the best.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You march towards the Shelby who now knew that he’d been sighted as he tried to act casual by leaning against the brick. “You know Dad and Uncle Arthur is one thing, but I thought you were better than this Uncle John.” You spit out with an accusatory finger pointed at his face. He had the good grace to look sheepish at least, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he took your scolding. You stepped out to the edge of the footpath and raised your hand in an attempt to hail a taxi before your arm was pulled out of the air.

“If you want to go home we’ll take you. We’re heading the same place after all.” John’s calm did nothing to quell you into agreeance, instead you ripped your arm out of his grasp and raised it again, trying to catch the attention of an upcoming cab. You smiled to yourself when the car pulled over, feeling victorious in escaping your meddling family of Shelby’s.

You celebrated too soon, as the door you’d just opened was slammed shut by your father, who leant in the passenger seat window and told the driver to jog on.

“You’re coming home with us.” When Tommy saw you still stood, fuming, in the same spot when the other three had made moves to head towards their car, he stormed over and grabbed you by the crook of the elbow, pulling you along behind him.

“Let go of me Dad, I’m not a child.” You state, even as you thrashed and tried to remove his grip like a petulant kid. He spun around to look at you, a fire in his eyes that stilled your movements.

“The second you stop acting like a child I’ll stop treating you like one, now get. In. The car.” His words were clipped and punctuated, making you get into the back seat without another word. You knew when you’d lost, even if you did slam the door once seated.

The car ride was silent and filled with smoke, as Tommy and Arthur sat smoking in the front and John sat beside you with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been holding back until now, but it felt like the silence had gripped your throat and squeezed, forcing tears out of the corners of your eyes as you gazed out the window. You tried to wipe them away before they were seen, but John caught you in the act.

“Awh c’mon kiddo, it’s not that bad.” He shuffled over closer to you, pulling you into a side hug so that your head rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arm up and down. The tears continued to fall as you sat there embarrassed, with your father looking at you in the rear view as he drove and Arthur occasionally turning to catch a glance.

“I’m 18 now you three. How long before you trust me?”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Arthur finally spoke from the front, “we just worry.”

“We know better than most that there are bad people out there darling. Our worrying got the better of us.” You sniffled on John’s shoulder raising your head with a final wipe of your eyes as you looked at your father.

“I know that Dad, but you can’t go following me around everywhere. You’re going to have to trust that I have the good sense enough to watch out for myself. I am a Shelby after all.” That had your uncle’s releasing a laugh, but your Dad simply held your gaze in the rear view as the car rolled to a stop outside your house. You took the silence as your cue to leave before the others were dropped home.

As annoyed as you still were with them the ride had calmed you down, so you leant forward to place a kiss on Arthur’s cheek, before repeating the process with John and getting out of the car.

“I love you guys,” you said through the open car window, “even when you piss me off.” Your uncles laughed again as you walked to the drivers door where Tommy sat looking at you as you placed your hands around the edge of the completely open window.

“Head inside darling, we’ll talk more in the morning.” He placed one of his large hands over both of yours, giving them a tight squeeze before releasing them. You leant in and kissed him on the cheek, smiling at him before saying your goodnights and heading to the door.

You turned right when you were about to head inside, seeing the car was unmoving, as you thought it would be until you closed the door. You gave a small wave that was reciprocated by two, John instead raising his hands and blowing you a big kiss. You went in and sure enough heard the car engine start mere moments later.

Your conversation with them was far from over and you knew it wouldn’t be easy to get it through to them that you were officially an adult now. But at the end of the day you were still glad to have been born into that dysfunctional family.

Because you knew that you’d always have them at your side, no matter what.

#peak blinders x reader #peaky blinders reader insert #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #sister!Shelby #protective brother #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #request #non-stop august #too many baes #too many baes non-stop august #anon #no y/n #writing #mine

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amysteryspot · 1 year

Note

I can't help but also ask for #10 and either John or Tommy. I immediately think John but gosh I could see someone doing it to Tommy, too.

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: cheating (non explict); swearing; reader is bisexual; modern!AU; angst

Word Count: 178

Prompt: 10. I don't play anymore, I went through your phone and called the girls in your DMs and took all them home.

A/N: Ginger, anything for you. I chose John for this one, but as you said, it totally suits Tommy too. Maybe I'll do one for him later if you want.

“Love, I can explain.” He pleads with you, trying to reach out for your hand but you take a step back. “It was just a mistake.”

“The first time you did it was a mistake, after that they were choices and from what I know you had a lot of choices.” Taking a deep breath you continue.

“It isn’t like that, I swear.” You know he is getting desperate.

“No, John. I don’t play anymore.” You said getting up from your seat and throwing him a couple of photos. “I went through your phone and called the girls in your DMs and took all them home.”

Watching him go through the photographs in shock, you realized John certainly didn’t expect that behavior from you, his always faithful and loyal girlfriend. But you were tired of people laughing at your expense.

“You…”

"It's over, John.” You finally say. “Now you're as free as a bird to do whatever the hell you want.” With that you take your coat and purse to leave behind the only man you've ever loved.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #reader insert #amysteryspot #mystery writings #mystery friends #murderousginger #ginger

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lostgirlfandom · 1 year

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Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Thomas Shelby

Affection

Shorty

Unrequited

Unrequited Part II

John Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Alfie Solomons

#peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders masterlist #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby one shot #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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crowleying · 2 years

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Tommy's Smile | m! reader

Date: 06.10.2022

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 2.120

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Harry Fenton

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Internalized homophobia, mention of war, mention of injury (nothing descriptive)

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Polly knows you and Tommy have been in love with each other for years, so she decides to take matters into her hands.

A/N: It's my first time writing for Peaky Blinders and with a male reader. I’m sorry for the requests still waiting in my inbox, my inspiration is all over the place.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct any mistake and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

[ID: a gif of Tommy Shelby smiling. End ID]

After the war, everything had changed. The men that had come back weren't the ones that had left. They were haunted by nightmares; they drank a lot more and smiled a lot less, especially Tommy. He used to smile all the times, so bright every room would light up. Now, however, he rarely ever did. At first, Polly had even thought he wasn't smiling at all, but then she started noticing. The first time it happened was just after she had scolded him in his office. As she was leaving, you walked in and greeted her. She had almost missed the childish, amused smiles you and his nephew had exchanged then, so similar to those you used to share back when you were fifteen and you had managed to do something mischievous. From then on, she kept a close eye on the two of you, but you were too lost in each other to notice.

You had grown together. You would always play together and were joined at the hip since you were little kids. You were like a son to Polly. She and your mother used to joke about the fact that if they called one of you, both of you would appear. Polly was convinced you were two bodies sharing one soul. She was sure of it when you started to fall for each other without even knowing. You were young back then, and she thought you would have time to get your shit together and admit your love to the other, so she didn't say anything.

When Tommy announced his intention to volunteer for the war, she had looked at you, expecting you to join him, and you were already standing, looking at Tommy.

"I'm coming too," you had said, when what you really wanted to say was "I'm coming with you, I'll follow you anywhere, Tommy." The two of you had been so lost in each other's eyes that Polly was sure you didn't even hear when John and Arthur said they would come too. She had prayed for all of you that night and every night and day until the day you came back.

The day you had left, while the women and little Finn hugged the Shelby brothers, Polly had taken you to the side at the train station to ask you to take care of Tommy, and taking care of him you did.

In France, you didn't let anyone come between you. A month in and every officer knew you two weren't to be separated. You would make sure Tommy was eating and would share cigarette after cigarette with him when he couldn't sleep. You still gave him reasons to smile. And you saved his life.

You were shoving him out of the way before even realizing what was happening. You didn't die that day in Tommy's arms, but it did change your life. As you were hit by the bullet aimed at Tommy, he was hit with the realization that life was too short to spend the entirety of it trying to ignore his feelings for you.

He didn't listen to any of the people who told him he couldn't stay by your side the whole time you spent in the hospital. He was finally left alone when John and Arthur convinced one of the officers that he would be of no use on the field if you weren't there by his side.

When you woke up in the middle of the night after the surgery, Tommy was there. And hidden by the dark, he kissed you for the first time.

Keeping your relationship hidden when living in such close quarters with so many people hadn't been easy. Coming home had meant you could finally kiss and hug and fuck. Nobody knew about your relationship, but you didn't mind and you understood why Tommy didn't want anyone to know. You respected that but dreaded the day people would start to get suspicious and he would have to marry some girl to avoid the rumours.

You had no idea someone suspected of your relationship, but Polly noticed it all: smiles, fleeting touches, glances, winks. She never thought she would see his nephew wink or you blush like that. You were Tommy's smile. You clearly made him happy. So she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that her nephew had yet to make a move on you. It seemed like her intervention was needed.

It was the end of the day. You were sitting on Tommy's desk, laughing at something he had said. He was lounging back in his chair, relaxed as he could only be around you. A cigarette was being passed between the two of you.

Polly barged into the office. You jumped up from your spot and Tommy straightened in his chair.

"Thomas, a word," she demanded, barely acknowledging your presence.

"I'll see you later at the Garrison," you said quickly to Tommy, before disappearing quickly out of the door without even waiting to see him nod.

You were always included in family meetings, and your opinions were held in high consideration, but you didn't want to intrude on Tommy's relationship with his aunt, not when Polly was like that.

Tommy's eyebrows arched as he watched Polly carefully, trying to understand what had gotten in her this time. He slowly killed his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Polly," he started cautiously, but before he could continue, his aunt spoke.

"When are you going to put an end to this foolishness, Thomas?"

Tommy's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about, Pol?" he asked, trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt. He leaned forward a bit. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, bracing for the impact. He knew the moment would come, sooner or later, when he would have to choose between you and his family. But the time was here and he wasn't ready. He would never be.

"Don't play dumb, Thomas, you know what I'm talking about... This," she gestured to intend the relationship between the two of you.

"I don't follow," he said.

He took a cigarette from the case you had given him before the war. It had seen everything you two had gone through. He stroked the cigarette on his lips before setting it between them. The motion always made you weak. He lit it up to keep himself busy and try to calm down. There was no way she could know. she had to be talking about something else.

"You two are grown men. I didn't say anything when you were young. I thought you just needed time to figure things out, but it's been a while and nothing has changed."

He slowly exhaled the smoke, giving up all hope she could be talking about anything else. "How long have you known?"

"Years. You were sixteen and no matter how many girls tried to win you over, you only had time and eyes for him."

"He was my best friend!" he spitted through gritted teeth.

"One day, after you had spent the whole afternoon together in your room doing God knows what, you came to me and asked what was the difference between friendship and love, Thomas. Do you remember?"

He nodded slowly and cursed himself. If Polly knew, other people might find out. You were in danger. He needed to make sure you were safe, and then he would think about Polly.

Before he could spiral, Polly spoke again. "When will you grow a pair and just tell him you love him?"

He was surprised, to say the least. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. "I know you are afraid people won't respect you anymore if they find out or that someone will try to hurt him to get to you. All I'm saying is you can be open with your own family, Tommy. He deserves this, and you do too."

He closed his mouth, then opened it again. "What if Arthur tells someone when he is drunk, eh? What if little Finn goes around telling someone thinking it's no big deal?"

Polly shook her head and smiled gently. "Do you really think you can hide that forever? With the way you look at each other? I don't think so, Tom."

She turned to leave, but before she could, Tommy's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Is this your way to say you approve?" he asked.

She looked at her nephew and for a moment she saw the sixteen years old he once was, with those big blue eyes, that were your damnation, wide, looking for approval. She smiled and left.

That was a lot and completely unexpected. Tommy fell back into his chair and ran a hand over his face.

When he walked into the Garrison, Polly was already there, sipping a whisky at the counter. He nodded at Harry to have his whisky in the private room. He didn't notice you sitting at a secluded table, uncomfortably close to a girl John had introduced to you upon your arrival. However, when he saw you weren't in the little room with his brothers, he panicked, already expecting the worst.

"Where is he?" he demanded. His brothers stopped laughing at something, to look at him confused and worried. "Who?" Arthur cautiously asked, irritating Tommy further.

"Your lover is sitting on the other side of the room with a girl your brothers so kindly introduced to him," Ada piped up from her spot, a fake smile on her face and her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into him. She knew too. Damn, the women of that family.

Arthur and John's faces were comically confused.

Tommy stormed out of the room and spotted you. Your head snapped up when you heard the door bang open. Your eyes widened as he made his way over to you with long steps. He looked unstoppable and scary. That was probably what anyone else saw when they laid their eyes on Tommy Shelby. Everyone was looking at him, trying to understand what was going on. Harry winced behind the bar, already picturing the place after the fight that would very likely take place there in a matter of minutes.

Ada, John and Arthur had followed their brother out of the room and had stopped at the door to see what would happen.

He came to a stop in front of you.

"Tommy," you uttered, trying to find the words to explain the situation. You had tried to convince John that you didn't need help finding a girl, but Shelbys would never take no for an answer.

"Mister Shelby," a sickly sweet and flirty voice interrupted the staring contest. The girl next to you leaned forward to introduce herself to your boyfriend, whose complete attention was on you. He pushed her back into her chair. She let out an outraged cry, but he ignored her in favour of grabbing the front of the suit you were wearing, one you had bought together, and pulled you into a kiss. You didn't hear the gasps and murmurs coming from around you. You relaxed and your hands fell to his hips. You kissed him back until you both needed to breathe. You gave him the brightest smile, winning one back.

He wrapped an arm around your hips and turned towards the onlookers.

"This man is mine, and if any of you fuckers tries to take him away from me or says something nasty about him, I'll cut you personally."

The room was so silent you were sure you could have heard a pin drop.

"By order of the Peaky fookin' Blinders!" Arthur roared from the other end of the room.

Polly and Ada smiled.

"Fucking finally, Tom!" John chimed in, grinning. And just like that, the tension in the room dispersed.

"Harry, open that bottle of champagne!" Arthur boomed, making Tommy laugh. You loved seeing him so happy and carefree. You promised yourself you would do everything you could to make sure he would always be like that.

You two made your way over to the private room to join the other Shelbys on the celebration. John patted your back. "Welcome to the family."

"Are you implying I wasn't part of it before?" you asked, pretending to be offended.

"No, of course not, you know..."

"Relax, Johnny boy, I'm just messing with you." You pulled his cap down his face, making Ada laugh.

She pulled you into a hug.

Tommy and Polly observed the exchange amused. "You were wrong about one thing," Tommy told her. His eyes didn't leave you.

"What's that?"

"We've been together for some years now."

She looked at him surprised. "Thomas Michael Shelby, you..." She slapped his arm, making him laugh.

"Let's make a toast," Arthur said, after filling the glasses and handing them around. Tommy wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

"To Tommy finally getting his shit together." Ada raised her glass and you laughed.

Tommy kissed your temple.

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dearshelby · 11 months

Text

The noose | T.S

Summary: Tommy's wife returned home after the failure of his plan got the whole family arrested. The way they deal with her trauma ends up sending her to a worse place.

A/N: This is part of an OC story and definitely not the most comforting reader insert fic 😅 however, I had much fun exploring this scenario and I hope you enjoy the reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The feeling of the noose around her neck still haunted her. At that moment, all she thought about was her family, Rose was a daddy's girl, she would be fine eventually, but what about Violet? What about Tommy? What about her brother and mother? What about Finn?

What about Polly? The woman was side by side with her, tears ran down her face as she muttered a prayer and there was nothing Y/N could do, except hoping that her in-laws on the cells aside met a better ending.

With a deep breath, she revisited the past, the smell of Grace's hair as she held the spy from behind, the sound of the train coming and the bitter taste on her tongue, reminding her Tommy that could be dead by then, that if she let Grace go, the agent would certainly reach for the gun a few steps away. Her only choices were to kill or die.

Then, the saving yell came, a desperate guard who didn't truly care for the Shelbys' life and was only complying with the king's order of setting the family free.

As they met again in the hallway of jail, no words were said. Polly cried in Michael's arms while Arthur and John hugged each other. Y/N stood there, speechless, waiting for someone to cross the door and hold her too, but no one did.

Somehow, she knew they also blamed her, because she should've talked Tommy out of the russians' business, because she should've given a warning before their arrest. She wished she had then, if she only hadn't choked on her own fear, perhaps their forgiveness would come easily.

On the way out, a driver waited for her, Y/N scoffed at the realization Tommy was too ashamed to face her. She wondered if he still blamed the stupid cursed sapphire for all their misery.

Finally, she was home again, Rose and Violet ran to their mother's arms, crying about how much they missed her. Tommy watched the scene from afar with too many words stuck in his throat, if he was able to kneel and apologize, it still wouldn't erase the guilt he felt.

After Y/N promised she'd never leave again, the children left her alone and she had to encounter her husband. However, while he had too much to say, she had nothing.

The truth was that Tommy always had too much to say, he was a clever, eloquent man, no one ever struggled in maintaining a conversation with him because his views of life were beyond intriguing. The war had taken away his will to speak, but his mind was still a powerforce capable of generating the most fascinating speeches.

On the other hand, Y/N carried herself silently, preferring to show than tell. Every time Tommy spoke about politics, science, religion or even boring mundane tasks, she paid close attention, not bothering to hide the adoration in her eyes. She believed displaying genuine interest was more flattering than attempting to engage in the conversation.

Standing at the entry of the house, they remained silent and silently the days went by. No talks about what happened, no apologies, no touches or significant looks. Everything went back to normal as they ignored the elephant in the room.

That lasted until a particularly warm night, the children were in bed, all the windows were open and many watch dogs guarded the garden. The summer was coming and Y/N decided to welcome it by getting a new style, joining the new fashion of haircuts above the shoulders, as if a new external could cease the mess in her head.

That night no comments were made about her sudden change, everyone sensed the tense atmosphere including herself, who was in desperate need of relaxing, then the idea popped in her head, she needed a bath.

Heading to the bathroom, she denied the maids' offers of help, aware that she regenerated better alone. She filled the bathtub with cold water and enough soap to make bubbles.

The sudden temperature change sent a shiver down her spine, the blood running on her veins matched summer and took a while to cool up. Resting her head on the tub's edge, Y/N closed her eyes trying to focus on the delicious smell of lavender soap.

However, her heart beated fast and her chest held a tight feeling, as if someone was stepping on her, crashing her ribs and making it hard to breathe.

Her jaw clenched as she ran hands through her recently cut hair, the strange feeling persisted and the blood traveled to her face, heating up her cheeks.

Ignoring the situation, she took deep, slow breaths and rationalized the symptoms. She had an awful couple of months, her body must've been too warm when she got into the cold water. That was all, it would pass.

In the frustrated attempt to calm down, Y/N conjured happy memories. The night her and Tommy celebrated the first legal betting license. Their first honeymoon night and how delighted she was to be officially his wife. When they moved in and inaugurated the house by spending the night together in the bathtub.

Everything with the same Tommy she hadn't spoken to in weeks, the same Tommy she had killed for, the same one to send her to the noose.

The rope squeezed her braid and neck together, Polly's silent prayer was all to be heard, but God wouldn't save them, what would happen next? Was it all done? Would she wake up somewhere else? Was the sapphire really cursed? What now? She wasn't dead but she couldn't breathe,

She couldn't breathe…

She couldn't breathe…!

Y/N opened her eyes, noticing her cheeks wet with tears, gasping for air, her shaky hands grabbed the bathtub's edge in a quick impulse to stand up. Water drops trickled from her naked body making a mess on the bathroom's floor, the dogs were barking outside and her sight was getting dark.

Clumsily, she managed to reach for her robe, covering herself with the soft piece of clothing. The tears still came out as her legs got weak, holding onto the walls, she supposed she bumped on something because maids were knocking on the door, "Is everything alright, Mrs. Shelby?"

Y/N recognized Frances' voice, unable to answer, she shrunk her legs and pressed her lips together.

"I think we should call Mr. Shelby," another maid suggested.

Despite feeling weak, her feet moved rhythmically, quick with the energy the rest of her body was lacking. In a matter of seconds, Tommy called for her.

"Y/N, are you alright in there?" the worry in his tone was clear, "Y/N, I need an answer even if you don't want to talk to me!"

Gulping, she brushed off her wet cheeks and sobbed, "Tommy?"

"Y/N, are you alright?"

"...no,"

Everything got silent, the fear was slipping away as she heard the door unlocking. The extra keys, every single door in the house had extra keys. Tired and confused, she remained still.

Tommy rushed to her, it was his turn to panic, he kneeled to her level looking for injuries. Not finding any, he worried even more.

"What the fuck happened?" he sat her up, "The fuck happened, love?"

Ashamed, she stared at the floor, a knot formed on her throat with the urge of crying again, "I don't know- I don't know- I-"

She sobbed, shrugging off. He immediately pulled her to his chest, not caring if her wet hair would ruin his shirt, "No, no, no, it's alright, eh? You're alright, I got you now,"

Words were unnecessary for Tommy to acknowledge he was the root of her suffering. He knew how badly he fucked up and seeing his wife like that was the worst punishment ever. Worse than his family's hatred, worse than the possibility of her leaving him, worse than himself being hanged.

Together at bathroom's floor, they grieved her near death. Not all the money, cars or jewels they had could fix the damage, perhaps not even time could, a scar would remain forever regardless of her forgiving him or not.

Feeling her snuggled into him, Tommy muttered, "We need to talk,"

Fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt, she quietly answered, "I think we do."

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #OC Eleanor Shelby

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