#John Shelby x oc

[novashelby]

Beg for It~TommyxReaderxJohn

Pairings: TommyxReader(3rd person)xJohn

MDNI.18+

Warnings: NON-CON, Degradation, humiliation, offensive language, spanking, and manipulation. PLEASE, PLEASE...take this warning seriously because I almost didn't post this. The vocal humiliation and degradation is ROUGH. Because it is, I just want to disclaim that, I, myself are against these actions in real life. However, this is purely fiction and for consenting ADULTS wishing to indulge.

Summary: When John Shelby goes to pick up the protection fee, he is met with the baker's sassy daughter. Not appreciating her attitude, Tommy and John teach her a little lesson.

Prompt: Beg for It

Word Count: 4,243

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

It was a new bakery that many people in the city seemed to enjoy. Italian. Which always made the Shelby family slightly curious. But everyone assured them: a sweet family that always minded their own business. Even Tommy couldn’t find anything wrong about them-Italian mother, Italian father, American born daughter. Though, perhaps that was curious. But, really, the worst thing they have done was introduce the Brummies to this soft, decadent pastry. It was a fluffy bun stuffed to the brim with a soft, sweet cream. They sold out within thirty minutes every morning and by early afternoons most days, the shop was bare minimums with perhaps some breads and biscuits. 

The shop owners' daughter was left to clean after closing. That was her duty besides working the counter; clean the shop top to bottom. She'd just finished sweeping the floor when the door opened. Not realizing she had left it unlocked, she jumped to find a young man dressed well in a blue suit. Politely, he took off his flat cap and tucked it away under her arm, and bowed his head respectfully. Regrettably she winced, “I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed. But we have some leftover bread if you want to just take it.” She started to walk around the counter, leaving her broom leaning on the wall. He grinned, walking around the shop, looking around at everything. He took note of the small things and the big things. It was a nice place, he admitted to himself. Perhaps his aunt was right in praising it. 

She was packing up some bread when he finally paused and turned to her, toothpick twirling about in his mouth. He grinned and walked to the counter, leaning on it. Teasingly, he pulled the bag closer to him by his index finger before lifting it to his face. Almost mockingly, he closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, holding it before letting out a long, exaggerated, “mmmmmmm.” His eyes fluttered open and he gave a toothy grin. “Do you bake?”

She smiled, taking the bag back and taping it shut for him. “No. My father and mother…I do everything else. Cleaning, the counter, the money, the organizing. Keeps me busy. Out of trouble, they say.” 

That’s when he leaned in a bit closer wearing a grin that made her drop her smile. Despite being modest, his eyes still moved to her blouse as he said, “and are you trouble?”

“No.” She was a bit more curt with him, lips pursed. “But I heard you Brummie boys were a lot of trouble. What are you looking for? Something tells me you aren’t exactly looking for bread.” That’s when he chuckled to himself. Always the girls with the big mouths, he thought, looking back up to her before digging out a piece of paper. It had a money amount written on it. 

“Actually, it is I that has something for your father. Is he around?”

She grabbed the paper from his fingers, tearing it at the edge before her eyes skimmed over it. She had to lie. “No, you just missed him. He’s gone away to visit some family for the weekend. What is this?” 

“A little fee that businesses around here pay,” he explained, tone changing a bit. Sitting up, he straightened his jacket. “I’m John Shelby.”

She glared at him, jaw stiff a bit. “A fee? Pizzo. It’s fuckin’ pizzo!” She ripped it up in tiny little pieces. John watched her, amused. What a fighter, eh? In her hand was a pile of white flakes. She leaned down and blew. “Now, it’s fuckin’ snow! Merry fuckin’ Christmas, John Shelby, and you can go fuck yourself and your Pizzo….” John Shelby looked down at his jacket, flicking off the white specks, nodding his head. 

“Do you normally have such a mouth?” he asked, arching a brow. “Hm? Did your daddy ever tell you that you shouldn’t talk to others like that, eh?”

“And did yours ever tell you that you shouldn’t extort innocent businesses?” she mocked. “It's extortion. That is the actual term, asshole.”

“Extortion, fee, pizzo,” he shrugged. “All the same fookin’ outcome if you don’t pay it-”

“Oh!?” She laughed, amused. She grabbed a rum bottle from under the counter. The same type her father both drank from and used for baking. “What will happen? Hmm?” She started to walk around the counter. “Burn it down?” she mocked. “Oh, no! The big scary man is going to burn down my bakery cause he didn’t get his way.” She was walking towards him, finger poking at his vest-covered chest. Slowly, he backed up, eying her.

“It’s a protection fee,” he said. “Protect you and your family and business from-”

“From what? You? Please, you can’t fool me. I’m fuckin’ Italian. I know what pizzo is. I pay it, I keep my business. I don’t…you burn it down. But you know what, burn it right now, Mr. Shelby. Go ahead, hm? Be that big, scary gangster you are and burn it.” John was not going to entertain this. Crazy girl. He rolled his eyes and nodded for her to have a good day, but when he turned his back, he heard the rum spill to the ground and splash to him. In her pocket was a book of matches and she lit one. “Hmm? I’ll do it.” 

John cursed under his breath, rubbing his temple. Putting his hand up, he said, “okay, look…just put the fookin’ match down, alright. No pizzo…no pizzo!” Breathing got a bit heavier, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuckin’ ell, you crazy bitch! What is wrong with you?”  That is when she smirked and started to lower the match, throwing it to the ground. He jumped back, hollering. ���What the fuck!?” But she laughed as the match sizzled and went out. It was water in the rum bottle. 

“What is wrong with me? Ha!” She dropped her smile and glared. “I’m fucking crazy and if you don’t leave my bakery, I will show you just how fucking crazy I can be, John Shelby.” He scoffed and put his hat on his head, leaving. The bakery shook as he was not shy about slamming the door. 

That night when she explained to her father about the predicament she was sure she handled it, but he was less than impressed. The next day, a few shillings in hand and a bag of bread, she was forced to go to the Garrison. “Apologize sincerely,” her father had warned. But she simply rolled her eyes. There was no way an apology was going to slip from her stubborn lips. 

She walked in, the pub empty except a familiar man at the counter, sipping a whiskey, writing some numbers in a book. She cleared her throat, and he paused, turning around. Snorting, he looked at her and continued writing. “Come here to burn the pub?” he asked in a mumble. 

“No.” She walked forward and slammed the bread on the counter before reaching in her little coin satchel. “Here. Though I don’t see it, my father is scared of you. Pathetic, really.” She put the fee on the counter and pushed it to him. He was about to say something when another man walked through double wooden doors, pausing.  

“You’re that baker’s girl, eh?” he asked, lighting a smoke and walking forward. “Called me this morning. Said you’d be here by nine.” Mockingly, he pulled out his gold watch and said, “ah, but it’s ten.” She scoffed, eyes about to roll, but he tapped on the counter. “Oi! Don’t look at me like that, girl.” He said ‘girl’ as if she was below him, condescendingly. His finger pointed at her. “You have a fuckin’ mouth on you, y’know? Talkin’ to me brother like that, eh.”

She grinned and looked down at John. “Told your brother? Aw, you must be the baby. Telling his older brother…oh, the mean little baker girl scared-” She jumped and yelped when Tommy hit the wooden counter again. That time was harder and louder. Her eyes slowly looked up at him as he made his way to her. 

“How old are you?” he asked, perching the cigarette between his lips. The smoke blew in her face, causing her to choke a bit.

Admittedly, she was a little scared when she noticed the gun in the holster. But she kept her attitude. “Seeing the wrinkles under your eyes, I’m a lot younger than you.” John paused, taking a deep breath, mouthing fuckin’ ‘ell. Little did she know her stubborn mouth was going to get her in trouble. 

Tommy took the smoke from his lips and stared at her in disbelief. He reached out and grabbed her cheeks, fingers pressing harshly into her skin. John watched, feeling his stomach drop when she pushed away and slapped him. Tommy laughed, head still turned and rubbing his cheek. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Looking back at her, he asked, “Daddy never taught you any manners, eh? Just walk around thinking you can act like a little cunt, hm?”

She spat at his feet and said, “definitely taught me not to let men put their fuckin’ hands on me. You got your money, I’m going to leave.” When she attempted to push past him, unapologetically bumping into his arm, he turned and gripped a handful of her hair. “Shit!” She hissed, struggling to regain herself, pushing at him. “Let go-!” With his free hand, he wrapped it around her throat just enough to make her panic. 

“You’re a fuckin’ brat,” he said, amused walking her to the back office. She kept telling him in a mix of grunts and pleads to let go of her, but he easily shut her up. He gripped her neck in a way that his thumb, pinky, and ring finger were pressing against her flesh, but his middle and index were shoved in her mouth. “There you go, shut up, hm?” He laughed as her tongue tried to pry his fingers out of her mouth. It was even more cute when she tried to speak and her words were just a string of gurgles. “Hmm? What is it, baby?” He moved his fingers around in her mouth and cooed. “I know, sweety. It doesn’t feel so nice being humiliated, does it? It’s okay, though. Mr. Shelby is going to be so kind, hmm? Okay? He’s going to teach you a little lesson so this doesn’t happen again.” He kicked the door to his office shut and moved her to the wooden desk. She fought against him, trying to push her body against his to throw him off. 

John could hear the commotion from the bar and slid off his stool, walking in and pausing at the door frame. Brow arched, he asked, “is this really necessary?” Tommy, tired, threw her on the ground and put his foot on the back on her left leg, telling her to stay. John shook his head. “She paid the money, let ‘er go, Tommy.”

Tommy, out of breath, gave his brother a look that was familiar. The one look that John couldn’t fight with. “What?” he asked, arching his brow. “John, lock fucking door and come…stop fuckin’ moving…and come here, eh?” John let out a long sigh and shut the double doors, locking them. When he walked over, Tommy took a seat back and grabbed his bottle of rum. “Get her over the desk-”

“Tommy,” John said, slumping his shoulders a bit. “What the fuck are you going to? Spank her?” When Tommy didn’t answer, John froze before cursing. “You aren’t-”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not, John, you are.” 

She sat up and backed herself up against the desk, swallowing as she looked up at John. When their eyes connected, she said, “I’m sorry…please don’t. I just want to go home.”  But John had to listen to his older brother. Kneeling, he gave her a sympathetic frown before hoisting her up. She struggled a bit, but gave up seeing that the doors were locked by a key. 

“Face her towards me, John,” he said, reaching for another smoke. John rested her body over the wooden desk, and when she looked at Tommy, he smiled at her. She flinched when he reached out and gently caressed her cheek, thumb teasing at her lips. “What a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? Such a messy girl, hm? Open.” She sucked her lips in, in protest, shaking her head, but he simply pinched her nose. Struggling she kept her lips sealed until she had to suck in air. “Good girl,” he praised. “See?” Tommy shoved his two fingers in her mouth again, pushing them to the back of her throat. Gagging and drooling, she made a pool of mess on the desk. “See, John? She’s a good girl. Just only shuts her mouth at the wrong times.” John looked down at her in pity, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t turning him on just a bit. “You never had anything in this pretty mouth before, huh? I can tell. That’s a good girl. Practice on my fingers.” That’s when she fought back, pushing away and spitting them out. Catching John off guard, she slipped from the desk, accidentally falling into the seat.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, wiping her mouth. 

Tommy slid back in his chair and got up, walking to his brother and gripping his face. The two had a short stair down before Tommy said, “can’t keep a fuckin’ girl half your fuckin’ size in place?” John looked off to the side, but Tommy forced him to look at him, slapping his cheek. “Oi! Listen to me, eh? You fuckin’ keep her in place or I’ll do it! Understand me, John?” John nodded and mumbled alright, Tommy.  “Good.” He turned to her and kneeled to her height, lifting up her chin. “You better hope he does what I tell him because you’ll not like what I do to you.” Those words sent a chill up her spine that caused her to be slightly more compliant. She allowed him to easily place her over the desk. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see those beautiful eyes…ah, good girl. Now open your mouth.” John pressed his lower half against her legs so she couldn’t move. She opened her mouth and took in his fingers. “Go on, practice. How would you suck my cock?” The way he said ‘my’ and not ‘a’ made her stomach curl. Was he going to make her do it? She obediently bobbed her head back and forth, not breaking eye contact. “You can do better…try harder.” His eyes fluttered up to John, amused. “Fuckin’ just gonna stand there?” She bobbed harder, sucking on them and swirling her tongue around his fingers. Drool was pooling from her lips. 

John rolled his eyes. “What would you like me to do, Tommy?”

“What are you, a fuckin’ virgin? Got to show you what to do? Take off your fuckin’ belt for one,” he said looking back at her, smiling. “Cause someone still needs her little arse spanked, huh? Cause someone’s father didn’t fucking do it. Huh? It’s okay…don’t be scared. Some girls like having their body abused like that. I think you may be one of them.” John’s hands slid up her quivering legs. She whimpered on his fingers, feeling John tickle her skin. His fingers hooked around the waist band and pulled south until he slipped them from her legs. John looked over the pink silk, thumb rubbing against the oval wet spot, a small grin on his face before he showed Tommy. Tommy pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a string of spit following. Her lips were a beautiful bruised red that made his cock twitch in his trousers. When he noticed her eyes drift down, he gently tickled her chin. “Don’t worry, sweety. You’ll get that soon enough when I’m sure you won’t bite.” He grabbed the panties and looked at the wet spot before showing her. “Look at this,” he said, smiling as if he was proud of her. “What is this? You either tinkled yourself or your little cunt is getting excited.” He brought it up his face and to her disgust, he licked it before grinning. “Such a dirty slut.”

Meanwhile, John was rolling her skirt over her ass, resting it on her back. It gave him a full, beautiful view of her ass and pussy. John grinned and looked up at Tommy, “I think someone enjoys being degraded.” His hands worked at his belt, sliding it off through the loops. It was pure leather. When his hand rested on her ass, massaging the soft, untouched skin, her body jolted. His hands were cold. John sighed. “I didn’t even start yet, babygirl.” 

“I think twenty would do her good,” Tommy said, balling up her panties. “C’mon, sweetheart, open your mouth up again…let me put these in.” 

“It’s going to hurt,” she whimpered, but didn’t protest, opening her mouth for him to gag her with her own panties. 

“That’s the point, babygirl,” John said, looking up at Tommy with a grin. He was starting to enjoy it a bit himself, remembering how much the girl pissed him off the day before. “Twenty?” Tommy nodded and looked back at her. 

“Yes, twenty,” he said. “Are you scared?” 

She nodded, unable to speak properly.

“Think of just how much more scared you would be if you didn’t pay that fuckin’ fee,” he said, touching her cheek, sliding it up to her hair. “Without me protecting you. Hm? Aren’t you happy you are here with Mr. Shelby and not getting your little cunt raped by some savage fucking Italian.” Her eyes started to well a bit and he pouted, mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart, I forgot…you’re Italian. Sorry, you kind of just look like a dirty little girl to me right now. You want me to stop? Yeah? You do?” She nodded, crying into the rag. He chuckled. “Then beg for it. Beg for me to stop.” She tried to yell the words through her underwear, but it didn’t come out. “Aww, you can’t, can you. John, go on. Twenty spanks…soft at first. We’ll at least be nice in that regard.”

John nodded. “Alright.” He gave her round ass once last rub and a love tap before spitting on her. His eyes studied the hand crafted leather belt, feeling it in his hands before raising it and bringing it down against her skin. It was a soft tap, and she jolted for the surprise more than anything. It was a little sting, nothing more. “One.” He waited a second before bringing it down again. “Oi!” He shouted. “Two! C’mon…count.” Through the fabric, she tried to count, but he was always one ahead of her. Sometimes he’d land one at a time then others, two. With each spank, he went harder as if he was getting angrier, hating her. But John just loved the sound of leather hitting her bare skin. Especially the way it looked. “Your arse is so fuckin’ red,” he moaned out, one handly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing his cock out. “Tommy,” he said, looking over to his brother. “After…after I’m done-”

“You still have ten more spanks,” he said, hand still cradling her cheek, wiping away her tears with a swipe of his thumb. “Doesn’t he, sweetheart? It’s okay. You’re taking them so well. Daddy is very proud of you.” The way he said daddy nearly made her toes curl. She moaned in the rag, eyes getting heavy. “I’m going to take such good care of you,” he whispered.

John sighed as his hand gently tugged eagerly at his cock. Her cunt was there and all he wanted was to rub it against her. But he raised the belt and from frustration, slammed it down hard. In pain, she screamed into the rag, fingers white knuckled gripping at the wood. There was a knock at his office, and through the wood, someone said, “Jesus, Tommy, what the fuck are you doin’ in there?”

Tommy sighed, but John answered for him, “fuck off, Arthur!” 

Tommy laughed and pinched her cheek. “Screaming a little too loud, princess. Did Johnny boy hit you too hard, hm?” She nodded and he frowned. “Alright, but it’s your job to keep quiet, eh?” She nodded, feeling completely submitted to him. If she wasn’t gagged, she would have said, with ease, yes, sir. “Good girl.” 

“What is going on in there, eh?” The door jiggled and John glared at him. “Why is the door locked, hm?” 

“I said, fuck off!” he hollered, spanking another skin splitting hit. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she tried not to scream. Tommy looked at John and put his hand up, silently telling him to calm down just a tad. The poor girl’s ass was blistering red and on fire. Tommy hadn’t expected his brother to get so worked up. 

“Arthur,” Tommy yelled, standing up and leaning into the girl. “It’s my other brother. I’ll be back, sweetheart. Be good to John, eh? Can you do that?” And she nodded, which made him smile. Sweetly, and surprisingly, he kissed her forehead, lingering there. Waltzing around the desk, he paused at John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just seven more.” John nodded. Something about spanking her made him feral. Made him want to shove her body against his bed, face pushed in the pillow. Tommy unlocked the door and slid out. 

When he left, John dropped his belt and leaned over her, hand around her throat. “You really fuckin’ pissed me off yesterday…. Ripping up my shite like that.” He pushed his cock between her legs, allowing it to tease at her lips. Feeling it there felt like hell. She tried to shimmy herself from his grasp, whimpering, but he was far too heavy. “What the fuck you think you’re doing, huh? Coming here with your smart mouth…not so smart now, huh? Your dirty panties shoved down your throat. You can’t even ask me to stop right now. I could do it, you know? Pissed me off so, so fucking bad…I could do it.” He started to move his hips up, his cock slipping between her lips, pushing up and rubbing against her clit. His breath shuddered. “Then you come in here like you fuckin’ own everywhere you step…And you didn’t even apologize. Get this fuckin’ rag out of your mouth!” He pulled it out and grabbed a fist of her hair, and made her sit up a bit. Immediately, she started choking and gasping for all the air she could. “Say you’re fuckin’ sorry.”

Choking on her tears, she cried out, “I’m sorry!”

“Say it again…say you’re fucking sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt.”

She had to pause, squeezing her eyes shut in shame. “I-I’m-”

“Get it the fuck out!” he yelled in her ear.

“I’m sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt!”

“Good,” he said, about to position himself when the door opened and locked behind him. He closed his eyes, cursing. Tommy walked around the desk, looking at his brother. “I finished the spanking….”

“Did you?” he asked, and John nodded. Tommy looked at the girl. “Did he?” She nodded. Tommy tsked and shook his head. “Are you lying to me, sweetheart?” When she nodded again, Tommy looked up at John. “Got a fuckin’ wife at home and you’re that horny? Get a new fuckin’ wife, eh? Take your cock and put it away.” John groaned, pushing away from the girl, fixing himself.

“Really, Tommy? You made me do this and you won’t let me finish?” he asked.

Tommy lit another smoke and said,  “no, your job was to spank her…never said to fuck the girl. You can leave. Arthur is outside waiting. You two need to go run some errands for me.” John rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before heading out the door. When it slammed shut and locked, Tommy looked down at her. “Did he fuck you?” She shook her head. “Use your words.”

“No, sir,” she choked. 

He gave a quick nod, “good.” Tommy sat back in his chair and leaned back. “C’mere.” The girl paused for a second watching as he patted his lap before slowly climbing off the desk and into his lap. “Good girl,” he cooed, bringing her into his chest. “Rest against me. Don’t worry, we’re done with our little lesson. Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, sir.’

“And what did you learn?”

“To be a good girl.” Tommy smiled at that answer, cradling her in his arms. His hand danced in circles around her back while her head rested against his chest. “Can I go home soon?” she asked, feeling worn out and filthy from what had happened. Nevermind emotionally and mentally fucked.

Tommy looked down at her before he said, “no. I think you and Mr. Shelby will spend some more time together. Perhaps for the evening. How does that sound, eh?” He placed a kiss on her head and called her a, “pretty girl.” She couldn’t fight him. It was no use. Submitting, she snuggled into his lap, yawning. “And I think you and I can make a new arrangement in regards to the protection fee.” With that, he stood, holding her in his arms. “C’mon,” he whispered. “I’ll take you to my home and we’ll have a bath.”

[call-sign-shark]

Tangled Desires (and Broken Innocence)

Summary: In the gritty streets of Birmingham, the Shelby brothers rule with an iron fist. The source of their success in the criminal underworld? Their loyalty to one another. Yet, everything changes when a mysterious girl named Lola Haze and her family arrive in town. Young, bratty, and irresistible in her short sundress, she stirs Tommy, Arthur, and John's curiosity. In her attempt to flee from a toxic home and the awful secrets she hides, Lola decides to ignite the three brothers' desire. Yet she soon understands that these violent delights can only have violent ends and that she will never escape this hell she created: a hell located between love and abuse with three men.

TW: Extreme violence, M/M/F/M, kidnapping, porn with plot, rough sex, huge age gap (Lola is legal), Dubcon, mention of child abuse, highly inspired by Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov and Lana Del Rey's song. We don't know Lola's real name so consider her (Y/N).

🫧 Playlist

🫧 Theme Song: Lolita by Lana Del Rey

🫧 Masterlist:

Coming soon on Tumblr too.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 3: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 4: c o m i n g . . .

Chapter 5:

Chapter 6:

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

(More to come?)

🫧 Author's notes:

This will be a multi-chapter fic but the posting schedule will be irregular and I really don't know where I'm going with this. All I can tell you is that don't get fooled by the pink - this was supposed to be Halloween so it’s extremely dark, noncon and disturbing.

Also, I don't expect this to be popular. If you still want to be tagged just leave a little comment.

Please don't force yourself to read because you're my mutuals. It's okay to stay safe.

[themultifandomgal]

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

John Shelby- Can’t Stay Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh” is all I can say

“It’s errr Lizzie. Lizzie Stark”

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s gonna change”

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

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

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

“Tom…”

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

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

“Men… she married because you got married”

“But…”

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

“Of course I did”

“Like the way you love YN?” Tommy ask

“I….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Lizzie?” YN asks

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

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

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

So, I decided to begin this new little series of mine, besties. It shan't be delivered in regular chapter form, but a series of one-shot parts that will tell the story of John and Cosima's marriage, beginning from their wedding day. I hope you enjoy it :)

Words - 3,682

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part I - Inferno

The blood of a thousand men could stain a thousand streets, cold, hard warfare spinning out of control in a haze of spatter and gunpowder, yet sometimes all it took was the presence of a woman to end it all. 

And it had.  

It didn’t mean the woman in question had to like it, though. 

“No.” The word fell from his lips with mild irritation as he took in the sight before him. “You will not wear black.” 

Cosima didn’t even attempt to hide her distain. “Why not? This is a death, after all.” 

Luca couldn’t help but feel entertained by her words, even though she was rapidly whittling him down to his very last nerve. “You are so dramatic, la mia sorellina.��� She always had been. “It’s about time you were somebody’s wife, and you will make a good wife, too. Every man betrothed to an Italian woman should recognise how damned lucky he is.”  

“And me?” Her cadence rose sharply, her voice bordering on shrill. “What about me, Luca?” 

9:23am and already, he wished he’d had the sense to bring some aspirin with him. “You will do as you are told, Sima. And wear white while you do it.”  

The silky drawl of her brother never rose beyond the smooth hush he spoke with, but his words packed the same punch as they would have had he yelled them. He was also the only person alive who she allowed to shorten her name. People had called her Cos in school, swiftly ending up with a slapped face for it. Her Italian fire had been lit pretty much since the day she’d been born. “I wish I’d brought mama with me now.” 

His lip curled, a soft rumble of a laugh echoing his throat, sucking on the matchstick he pulled from between his lips as he pointed it at her. “We both know why you didn’t.” 

“Yes,” she chirped, admiring her reflection in the mirror, “you’re paying.”  

Again, she prompted his smile. Few did, really, save Anna Maria, his wife, as well as his sons, Joey and Guiseppe. “I am, cara mia. Listen, if you want the black dress, I’ll buy it for you. You won’t be married in it, though. Imagine if mama was here, eh? She’d be, ah, much more vocal than I about it.” 

This was true. Audrey would have taken over rather than sitting quietly like Luca. “I’m beginning to think she’d fuss much less than you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Try on the next dress, for the love of god.”  

Huffing and cussing in their native tongue, Cosima flounced back behind the privacy screen, getting herself out of the dress, the nearby assistant helping her into the white lace gown. Her face was a picture of utter contempt upon emerging, raising her middle finger when Luca quietly applauded her appearance. 

“Perfect.” 

“I fucking hate it,” she sneered, the assistant’s eyes bulging a little at her coarse language. 

“Cosima, you would hate even the most exquisite of gowns, crafted by the finest of designers,” he pointed out, standing and walking to her slowly. He reached beneath her chin, raising it up, placing a little kiss upon her forehead. “You look beautiful. La belladonna. It is done.”  

His word was final, and she knew this well. It did not mean she had to be quiet or graceful in her compliance, though. Being wed to a Shelby, after all they had done, the war that had seen the deaths of both her treasured brother and beloved papa, was not a fate she relished in.  

Negotiations in order to cease the bloodshed and forge ahead in a new bond, running Shelby gin into New York with the assistance of her family and their connections had been sealed by a proposed joining of their families through marriage. Her marriage, to John Shelby.  

How she had screamed and complained when Luca had informed her of this truce sealing union. Glasses and ornaments had been smashed in tempestuous fury, Cosima’s ire reaching the kind of decibels that had taken Luca and Audrey much effort and nips of gin to quieten, the youngest of the Changretta clan storming from her mother’s home, walking the streets, chain smoking in blind fury.  

The only silver lining? At least Luca had not decreed that she marry the man who had killed her father, not that she actually could. For his sins, Arthur Shelby breathed no longer. Neither did Grace Shelby, nor Esme Shelby, the late wife of the man soon to be her husband, the gypsy beauty getting in the way of a hit meant for John on Christmas Day and lamentably not surviving it.  

And Cosima thought her hand dealt was bad. For John, it was decidedly bleaker by far.  

His brother was gone, his wife was gone, his sister-in-law was gone, and his fate was now bound to a person belonging to a family whom he couldn’t stand with any ounce of tolerance. Tolerance was what he had to show, though, in order to keep relations smoothed over, before anybody else ended up dead.  

“It’s a fresh start for us all, John boy,” Tommy began, standing in front of his brother, straightening his tie. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but...” 

“Good, ‘cos I ain’t,” he cut in with, his jaw tightening, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Esme is barely fucking cold, and you’ve got me marrying some wop bitch. Trust me, Tom. I ain’t fucking happy in the slightest.”   

The elder Shelby truly had no comeback for that. He knew his actions were a slap in the face to John, to Arthur, to Esme and to the love of his life, but there was no other way around it. He didn’t plan on losing anybody else to a war that could be negotiated through. It had been tough to bargain, but peace had been restored finally, Tommy reasoning that scores had been settled upon both sides of the divide.  

They were more than even. In fact, they truly weren’t, two lives on the Changretta side, three on the Shelby, two innocent women coming into the crossfire and dying because of it. He was not prepared to lose more. If he could also turn a very tidy profit while not losing more, then so be it.  

Finally, he managed to catch the icy stare of his brother, Tommy squeezing his shoulders. “Give it time. At least you’re getting wed to an attractive woman. Could have matched you to a right scrag, but I didn’t.” 

She could have been the queen of fucking Sheba for all John cared. Her beauty or lack thereof was neither here nor there. She wasn’t Esme, and that was all there was to it. “Gotta habit of this, you have, marrying me off to some bird I ain’t ever clapped eyes on until I get to the altar, all for the sake of keeping the peace.”  

There hadn’t been an actual altar at his wedding to Esme, but this time there was no room for negotiation. The priest local to the district Cosima Changretta lived in had been given a hefty bung to marry them, regardless of the fact that John was a non-practising Catholic. Usually, Father David would have required he at least attend weekly mass for a few months prior to the wedding, but this wasn’t possible when the union had been set up to take place within the space of a week from its original incarnation. 

Through his disesteem, John wasn’t blind to see the benefits of joining the families in order to broker peace, though. He just wished there was some other way, one that didn’t involve him forsaking his late wife’s memory, or literally getting into bed with a member of the very family who had taken three members of his. 

With a red rose buttonhole pinned to his charcoal suit – those specific flowers at Cosima’s request – they headed out to the waiting car, ready to be ferried across Birmingham to the district of Bournville, to St Francis of Assisi. 

“Holy shit, the waft of that bloody chocolate," Polly spoke from the back of the car, the famous Cadbury factory emitting the heady scent of it’s delicious confectionary. “Making my mouth water, it is.” 

“Well, as long as the air smells like Dairy fucking Milk, all’s right as rain, ain’t it, Pol?” John muttered, watching the little black and white houses dotted along the main road pass them by. It was such a different landscape than the one he was used to, the village of Bournville so very picturesque and quaint.  

Polly tutted. “Oi, less of your fucking lip, our John. Don’t make today any harder than it has to be by being a surly shit about it.”  

“Yeah, but...”  

She cut his protests dead with her usual blunt retort. “We know, for the love of god! You’ve vented your spleen so hard at this, I’m surprised you have one left! This isn’t ideal, but it’ll bring us peace and let me rest my fucking head easy at night, not worrying when the next of my fucking nephew’s is going to end up riddled with bullet holes. Now, put your fucking face straight. We’re nearly there.”  

He could have begun his protests once more, vented at how it wasn’t right that he was being thrown into wedlock again just four months after his second wife had died, how at thirty years old, he shouldn’t have already had to attend the funerals of two Mrs. Shelby’s, but he knew it would serve him little good.  

Arriving at the church, they made their way inside, John surprised to be greeted kindly by Audrey Changretta, who was standing talking to the verger.  

“A lot of water has gone under the bridge, John. All I want going forward is for you to be a good man to my Cosima. Can you do that for me, love?” 

His heartstrings were yanked upon hard, knowing how much his actions had devastated her. She looked weary from it all, the sparkle in her eyes non-existent. He’d never wanted her to be hurt in all of this, the teacher he held so many fond memories of, the woman he had steadfastly refused to murder in cold blood. “I can. I promise I will.”  

She patted his cheek, smiling thinly. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he couldn’t blame her. “Thank you.” She exchanged nods with Polly and Tommy, the Shelby’s moving into the church, smiling to their family and friends as they passed the pews, the Changretta presence outnumbering them by about two to one.  

He and Tommy stood to the side of the altar, Polly taking a seat at the first pew between Finn and Ada, the latter giving the groom-to-be a bolstering smile. It had little of its desired effect, John feeling a cold swirl of discomfort growing chillier by the moment. “Forgive me, Esme. I fucking wish this weren’t happening just as much as I wish you were still here, love.”  

His deeply lamenting thoughts were banished by the sound of the organ keys pressed upon, the church filling with music as the congregation stood, Father David quickly shaking both his and Tommy’s hands before his focus shifted towards the doors, beaming as he watched Cosima escorted in by her brother. The bride looked exquisite in her white lace gown, her cascading veil shrouding her face, the dress very quintessentially Italian in fashion. 

John didn’t dare turn around and watch her walk to him, only aware of her arrival at his side from the strong plume of Chanel perfume entering his nose, finally turning to see Luca gently lift her veil, kissing her cheek and whispering a few words in Italian to her. He then moved to John, surprising him by offering his hand.  

“To famiglia, eh?” 

“Yeah,” he coughed, shaking it. The Italian’s grip was like Iron, his face unflinching. There was no true warmth there. “To family.”  

Luca moved to sit at his mother’s side, John finally letting his eyes fall to his left, taking her in for the first time. His throat tightened in an instant. He’d thought Esme to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the guilt of the fact that Cosima Changretta was the biggest knockout he’d ever witnessed hitting him hard.  

As for his soon to be wife, when her piercing blue eyes found his, the sensation of her heart skipping on three consecutive beats made her feel a little nauseous for a moment.  

He was gorgeous.  

Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would have made hating him so much easier if he’d been ugly.  

“At least I will have something nice to look at, while I’m throwing plates at his head.” She thought, turning to the priest and smiling as best she could, given the circumstances.  

The ceremony was a long, tedious affair, the bride wishing for a traditional mass that bored the balls off John. He did well to hide it, though. What he failed miserably at was looking in any way, shape or form happy when they were pronounced man and wife, offering her a chaste kiss to the cheek, a speedy peck of non-affection. Cosima was relieved he hadn’t leaned to her mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet.  

Taking his arm, she walked back down the aisle as the newest member of the Shelby family, her eyes sad as she looked at her mother and brother. They smiled at her with loving pride, Cosima dropping her chin, lest they see the tears in her eyes as she walked alongside her new husband, a man she couldn’t stand. True, she knew nothing of John Shelby, other than what he’d had a hand in taking from her.  

With every step, she had to physically prevent herself from gathering the bridal lace swathing her slender curves and running, back to Acacia Road, back to the family home. This was where she desired to be, out in the flower filled back garden tending to her roses, taking cuttings of herbs ready to be brought into the kitchen and tutored by her darling mother in everything from Carbonara to baked Ziti. 

She longed for the scents of her mother’s pasta, to hear her father’s key in the door, his whistled tunes filling the homestead as she’d wipe her hands upon her apron and run to greet him. Her papa, the man she loved and respected the very most. Gone.  

“You erm, you look beautiful, Cosima.”  

His face did not match his compliment, Cosima looking up at her new husband, her face stony. “I know. Shame my dream wedding didn’t come with the dream groom, though.”  

John sniffed, his eyebrow tilting a fraction. “Ahh, you might still get it yet. We can get divorced and give it another go with other people. Who knows? I could nail it lucky the fourth time around.” 

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been married twice before?”  

“Ar.” 

“And what the blinking hell happened to them?” she demanded, wondering just what her brother had gotten her into, marrying her off to a man who was on his third wife. 

“They died, if you must know,” he frowned, reaching the end of the aisle, the door opening, a cascade of confetti hurled at them from the throng of guests exiting behind them. 

“Lucky them.” Her mutter was drowned out by the sound of happy cheers, or at least she thought it had been. Her new husband had heard it, though, wanting nothing more than to slap her in her rude mouth for her coldly delivered statement. 

“Great, got myself hitched to a stunner and she’s a right nasty little mare.” he spoke, certainly loud enough for her to hear, releasing the hold upon her arm and moving to receive congratulations from his family. Cosima narrowed her eyes at him in his wake, turning to smile brightly at her friends, her hands taken in theirs, cheeks kissed, her heart thrumming with waves of sadness. A right nasty little mare. That’s what he thought of her, Cosima’s indignance burning brightly for a while, not able to reflect upon the fact that what she’d said had indeed been very spiteful.  

At twenty-three, she truly should have known better. With two dead wives behind him and a bitterness that still lingered beneath the surface between the two families, she guessed he was likely as thrilled to be married to her as she was to him. An apology perhaps wouldn’t go amiss.  

Once they’d posed for a few photographs, the bride and groom were shown to the waiting Rolls Royce Silver Cloud, John holding the door open for her, following her in and staring stonily out of the window as they pulled away from the church.  

She felt awkward and ashamed of her words, moving her thumb back and forth over one of the large thorns the florist had neglected to remove from the bouquet of red roses. “John, I apologise for what I said, about your late wives being lucky. I only meant that... I don’t know what I meant, actually.” 

She was met by a cold, two worded statement. “Fuck off.”  

Deserved, to be fair. Predictably, Cosima let it spark at her kindling rather than rushing for water, though. “That’s impossible, now I’m your wife. Don’t bloody pout at me. I said something regrettable, but because of your family I don’t have Angel or my father any longer. You yourself are directly responsible for the former. If you hadn’t beaten him within an inch of his life, he wouldn’t have lay vulnerable in hospital, ripe for the plucking. And let’s not forget that scumbag of a brother of yours, who killed my papa.” 

He tutted, chewing his toothpick with hostility. “Don’t act like you’re the only one who lost somebody you loved. Fucking gone right over your head, ain’t it? Because of your family, I lost me wife, brother and sister-in-law. We’re in the same boat, Cosima.” 

“You started all of this. You could have just let Lizzie be happy with Angel, but no! You had to burn his restaurant to the fucking ground. What is it you dumb Shelby fucks say, hmm? By order of the Peaky Blinders, that’s it! Your way or the highway!” 

Bile began licking at his insides. “Your brother weren’t good enough for Lizzie. She’s a good woman, and he was a fucking duplicitous shit. Didn’t even have the balls to use his real name for half his dealings. At least we stand by who we fucking are.” 

Her rage escalated by the second, staring at him incredulously. “My brother had the sense to be clandestine, and you will not speak of him like you knew him! So, he partnered with your enemies, so fucking what? The way you Shelby’s conduct yourself, you make enemies left and fucking right! You took my family away from me for nothing. Nothing!” 

John eyed her viciously, his eyes losing any trace of warmth. “They fucking deserved it, and you, you spoiled little wop bitch? You deserve nothing less than every fucking ounce of my contempt. We’re married in name only, believe me. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be a good husband to you, no matter what I promised your mom.” 

“Fine by me!”  

The air virtually crackled with their mutual distain, Cosima shuffling as far as she could get away from him, muttering cusses in Italian. 

“I know what testa di cazzo means,” he spat. 

“Good!” she fumed, “I want you to know I think you’re a dickhead!” 

The reception was being held at a small hotel local to the church, Cosima storming out of the car and not looking back, fixing a huge, fake smile to her face as she was welcomed by the staff. Immediately, her eyes locked onto a waiter carrying a tray of champagne filled flutes, taking one and knocking it back. A second was reached for, John arriving at her side.  

“Whiskey please, mate. Fucking large one.” 

The waiter nodded. “At once, sir.”  

They stood together to welcome their guests, both repelled by one another’s presence, going through the motions of everything. Cake cutting, first dance, spending as much time as they could away from one another. It was while John was seeking the solace of quiet and fresh night air much later that evening, standing on the rear patio of the hotel smoking a cigar, that he found himself joined by the last person he expected. 

“Can I give you some advice, John?” 

Turning to Luca, he raised an eyebrow, the tall Italian continuing. “If you want a quiet life with my sister, you need to keep her in the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to. I love that girl to her bones, but she’s a fucking spoiled princess.” 

His eyes widened. “You can say that again.” 

Luca’s mouth twitched, removing the toothpick he’d been idly chewing on. “My father bent to her every whim, being his only daughter. She was daddy’s little girl. Roses, diamonds, furs, French perfume, she loves all of that. You treat her good and she’ll be sweet with you. And make sure she has a garden. That kid lives for horticulture.” 

Luckily, he was wealthy enough to provide such luxuries for his new bride, not that he wanted to. Not that she deserved even one of them. “Noted.”  

He nodded, turning to leave his new brother-in-law to it, pausing suddenly as he pointed the toothpick in his grasp at him. “Oh, and John? She’s got a thing for hurling plates. Learn to duck.” Laughing to himself, he carried on back into the hotel, while John felt a prickle of annoyance at his statement, or rather how much pleasure he’d derived from delivering the news that Cosima was nothing short of a bad-tempered handful.  

Standing out there alone, he did hope that one day he might see her as something different. Whether that day would come swiftly or not was anybody’s guess, though. 

[wonderlanddreamer]

John x Flo things -

Her hating it when he first called her 'Flo', but now it being weird when he doesn't.

"I'm the only one that gets to call her that"

Complaining about helping each other, but doing it anyway.

"Are you flirting with me or starting a fight?"

Unfiltered honesty.

No beating around the bush. If Flo does something that pisses him off, John will tell her, and vice versa.

But not in public, because in public they have each other's back 100% and everyone knows it.

"How the fuck did you get in to my house?"

John getting annoyed when Flo insists on putting her cold feet on him while she sleeps, but then struggling to sleep when she isn't there.

Kissing eachother to shut the other one up.

Them being so effectively in sync without even having to try.

"You came?" "You called."

Possessive hand gestures.

No one fucks with Flo, except John.

Him being frustrated by her stubbornness, and her by his possessiveness, but knowing that they wouldn't have each other any other way.

I'll probably add more to this when I think of them. The banner for this is also low-key my favourite thing I've ever made.

[zablife]

Stolen Angel

Created for @call-sign-shark 1K celebration. Congrats again, darling! I chose the 2nd theme: angel with the angst prompt "This isn't right." I hope you enjoy it!

John Shelby x Heaven Lavey Shelby

A/N: Heaven Shelby is an OC belonging to @call-sign-shark and is Arthur Shelby's wife.

John always felt a deep connection to his brother’s wife, Heaven. When the enemy attacked him on his doorstep Christmas morning 1925, he swore he saw a blinding light around her small frame as she used all her healing powers to pry him from the cold embrace of death. Now he felt bound to protect the woman he thought of as his guardian angel. It was a vow he upheld when Arthur stole himself away from the Changrettas and everyone he cared about.

John was merely a brother doing his duty to family. However, the tenuous thread between friendship and something more suddenly snapped when Heaven confided she wished to stay longer. She needed time to herself after Arthur’s deceit which had been too much for their short marriage to bear. When Heaven realized they were crossing a line she warned, "This isn't right," and John had to agree.

Arthur was his flesh and blood after all, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling that his loyalties were shifting despite himself. Every moment spent in Heaven's intoxicating company convinced him they were meant for one another. Each morning with the children a glimpse of what their life together could be. When Arthur returned one day high on snow, angry and violent, it was all John needed to act swiftly and mercilessly.

He tortured himself with the memory of his fateful decision every day for years to come as he sat rotting in his prison cell without so much as a letter from the woman he was so enchanted with long ago. He was only certain of one thing when he thought of atonement for Arthur’s murder. He had attempted to bend the will of the heavens and fallen into the depths of hell in the process. He would spend the rest of his life praying to be forgiven for stealing God's most cherished creature from his own kin.

-----------

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@cljordan-imperium

@pacifymebby

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@multifandomwriter56

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

[randomshipping101]

I'm looking for a Wattpad story, but it may be posted somewhere else, about John Shelby from the Peaky Blinders x Female Oc.

Description:

John Shelby Marries a girl from an Italian family and her mother is obsessed with her getting married. Before they got married, they slept together at a party, and the girl ended up pregnant. She’s spoiled and renovates the whole house, but takes good care of the children.

The title or summary may have the word princess.

Please help me find it and if anyone does please let me know!

[omgkatherine01]

Peaky Blinders - Masterlist

Back to main masterlist

Tommy Shelby

Series

Fallen Angel

One-shots

-nothing yet-

Arthur Shelby

Series

-nothing yet-

One-shots

-nothing yet-

John Shelby

Series

-nothing yet-

One-shots

-nothing yet-

Finn Shelby

Series

-nothing yet-

One-shots

-nothing yet-

Ada Shelby

Series

-nothing yet-

One-shots

-nothing yet-

Grace Burgess

Series

-nothing yet-

One-shots

Secrets and Seduction (Grace burgers x female Shelby reader)

[novashelby]

Hello. My name is Nova, and I am way too close to 30. I am always willing to be friends with mutuals. Please feel free to message me. I don't talk to those privately under 18. I am sorry. :( I started writing fanfiction at 15. So...nearly 15 years. Yikes. I also write original work and read a lot. Just your typical ELA degree holder. I'm American, but I hopped continents.

Copy

Translate

Post on any other site

Claim as your own

Make fanfiction using my OCs (ask first).

If you want to make fanart, please do and send it to me. I would love you to the moon and back forever.

Period typical violence, attitudes, and language| Canon typical violence, attitudes, and language|Abuse; mental, emotional, physical, and sexual|Dub-Con, coercion, and Non-Con|Mental illness and categories under that umbrella|BDSM.

Peaky Blinders-Male Characters

Peaky Blinders-Female Characters

Cillian Murphy Characters

Evie Master List-Adopted!Shelby

The Balls in Our Courts-TommyxOCxFinn

His Innocence-TommyxOC

The Shopkeeper Girl-JohnxOC

The Girl With the Smile-ArthurxOC

Someone Like You-JohnxOC

The Vendetta Complex (OC-PBxTHG AU)

Cillian Murphy xReader

Monday and -sometimes-Thursday:

The Balls in Our Courts

Shopkeeper Girl

Wednesday and -sometimes- Sunday:

Evie: The Younger Years

His Innocence

*One-shots, The Vendetta Complex, The Girl With the Smile, and I'm Not Your Wife, I'm Your Daughter-updated randomly as of this moment.

[call-sign-shark]

🎄 He fought with his fists, she did it with a pen and, somehow, she managed to get even more dangerous than him. Her words, angrily spat on paper, were like cutting shards of glass aimed at hurting. Aimed at revealing shocking truths with blood and sweat. But it wasn't what made her dangerous. To John Shelby, what made her dangerous was his love and scorching passion for her. 🎄

Merry Sharksmas, @wonderlanddreamer! You were the first on my list, this year. :)

[love4annie]

Four times a mother.

John Shelby x Martha OC

Martha's slightly wide eyes stared at the paper in her hand, orbs filled with worry as she reread the letter. Her calm voice should've surprised her, as she ordered her oldest daughter to stay home and watch over her brothers, but it didn't. After all, she often had this kind of unbreakable composure near her children. She left her house, rushing towards the Garison where she knew her husband was.

Her mind raced along with her, apprehension and ration battling in her thoughts, one reminding of the alarming future and the other recalling the many times she had handled situations like this.

"You mother..she passed.."

"My dear, what happened?"

"Oh, John, help me forget!"

"Pray. Pray, my girl."

"I'm tired.."

Words. Words brawled in her head, hers and others', dictating over the hidden realm of her consciousness that was quickly becoming more unbearable. Younger, she would've claimed this was a lot less than it seemed to be. Older, she admitted that it was a lot more than what a sixteen years old should be dealing with. But then, right then, she knew no past beliefs, nor was she sure that she would live to see the next day.

All she needed was John.

Her legs led her when her senses couldn't, and she soon found herself stumbling over Polly's door. The woman opened it, face wrinkling even more when she saw the poor girl's miserable air, calling for who she could only guess. Martha mumbled her lover's name under her breath, and he soon made his appearence, immediatly craddling her into his arms with reassurances she couldn't hear. His name escaped her lips once more, unheard, but John felt it and hugged her even closer.

Her following statement made him pause, probably along with everyone else in the room, for a second. But a charming smile tugged on his face, and he looked behind the couch, where Pol was previously standing. Truth was, their family had already discussed that subject for the longest time, and then was simply the ideal opportunity. He rubbed soothing circles in her back. She also felt the comforting palm of Arthur over her shoulder and Tommy's concerned blues flickering from her to the toddler over his knee. Ada sat beside her, interwining their fingers, for once looking older than her actually older friend. John's clear gems stared into her stormy pair, and his heart broke, it shattered for her. But there, then, she was in his hold. She wasn't alone in that gloomy house of hers, grieving her mother on her own and occasionally visiting them when the empty echoes of her memories in the hallways became too insufferable. She wasn't alone that gloomy house, as he peeked from the windows, attempting to check on her without disturbing her agitated peace, and he wasn't worrying over her safety when she was too loud or too quiet. She was in his hold, and he could protect and provide her. He would, undoubtfully would. Swift footsteps clicked more than they usually would have, sound more prominent in the mute exchange between most presents. She discreetly handed John a mystery item, and the boy gently removed Martha from his grasp as he fell on one knee, loving gaze set upon her and a hopeful grin mastered to encourage his one and only.

-"Will you marry me?"

She finally saw the church, a place where she sought comfort when life became too much. Her remembrance was again triggered by the mere image of this very familiar building.

-"May we leave now, my dear?", John complained about his wife staying longer than the preaching lesson's time, though he understood that she was attached to the wooden benches and revebrating sounds in early Sunday hours, despite not being much of a religious woman herself, having comitted her fair share of sins, though she was everything but mistaken in anything she had to do, to him. He understood that those visits were a habit, one her mother had installed in her since innocence, and while he had the unpredicable events of life to blame for making both of them drift just a bit from what they used to be and do; the illegal business the Shelby brothers had debuted and the dozing baby girl on his lap; he knew that events were also what brought them back there.

-"I am praying for us, John." She replied, not quite the answer he awaited. Her vision was unfocused, but it held more reverence than he could ever perform. She had always been more spiritual than him, more perceiving of herself than he ever was. More sentimental, more thoughtful, she claimed there was a certain depth in things he couldn't entirely decipher.

-"Don't you always do that?" He had to admit, he was longing for a morning in with his girls, a rest he desired for himself after a long week, but even more for his wife. He knew that taking care of a nearly one year old, along with helping with the numbers, relentlessly worrying over his late shifts, and the newfound talent she had for patching him up when Polly was too busy with a doubly bloodied Arthur, was draining her more than she let on. He might've been the one facing the danger of the minor criminal affairs the family had started, but she was lifting most of the emotional burden, as she assumed her duty as the stability of their small household.

-"I am praying for our child." She said, then murmured something. Not to him, not to herself. She listened to every movement he did, every response he formulated, but she yet had to look at him.

She did, when he asked his next question.

-"Isn't she here, safe and sound and healthy?"

He frowned at his wife's quivering stature, but he soon showed a happy grin at her announcement.

-"I am praying for our second, John."

Somewhere in her haze, her pace had quickened, throat already dry and muscles throbbing from the sudden extreme activity of sprinting from one edge of Watery Lane to the other. The Garrison just a corner away, and she evoked one more crucial moment of her existance.

In the dim lights of her bedroom lantern, sat a single mother of two, widowed but not so, husband taken by the war, juggled between death and life as he hid in holes in the frontlines and soiled his hands with crimson dirt. Her children slumbered soundly in her bed, crying themselves to sleep for weeks after their father's departure and she promised herself every night that they would soon adapt with his abscense. They were old enough to notice him missing in the late evening when he used to gladly indulge in their youthful fun, but still too young to fully comprehend the cause. Though, in that night precisely, she needed him even more than they did. So, sitting in front of her vanity table, fingers wrapped around a pen, she wrote. She wrote her struggle, wrote her worry, but assured him that she was carrying on, would be until his return and as long as he needed her to after that. She wrote and her thoughts fell into the dark ink, free from her grip, news that could weight him more than what was already on his shoulders. Then, when the ink grew dry, she wrote with her tears, for she knew he could very much be reading it with his blood. She clutched to the paper, seeking the solace John brought her in the immobile object, his alluring beams and alleviating touches.

It did reach John, while he sat moments away from their next violent warfare, and he feared it was tainted with filth after all the transportation, though he melted in a wave of calm as soon as he gently ripped it open, a smell of home hitting him harder than bullets. It was short truce, getting to imagine her voice along the perfectly picked words and neat handwriting. His brothers watched as joy traced his features for the first time in the two months of combat, before he revealed that yet another Shelby was to come.

The chants of men didn't falter as she entered the pub, but those who saw her distressed expression made her a path toward her husband, and she scurried into his embrace.

-"The doctor..the letter.." She tried to tell him despite her panting from all the hurry.

-"The hell is happening, John?" Arthur called behind her, ready to beat up whatever bastard bothering his sister-in-law. He had always seen her as a sister, even before she was married into their family, her and Ada cherished by his heart that softened remarkably around them, and inevitably, a feeling of protectiveness bloomed within it toward her.

John didn't answer him, instead thinking about what she said, until it clicked, and that beautiful smile of his shone again. Thomas' hawk eyes caught on it, and he discreetly relaxed.

-"John, I...i drank a beer..and you're just back and.."

-"And we would welcome it like the blessing it is." He locked eyes with her, and she drunk in the love they emitted, as they released her from the confines of her pondering into a warmth only he could grant her, tapping her on the back to face the boys.

-"Tell 'em, my dear."

She hesitated, studying the anger and concern Arthur casted, the sudden near-stillness state of the entire room, and spoke at Tommy's supportive nod.

-"I'm..pregnant."

And the place roared with yells and congratulations, until John spoke again, making it blow with even more excitement.

-"All drinks tonight are on me!"

[themultifandomgal]

Hey you! I just read that you take requests for peaky blinders and I’m wondering if you could maybe write something for John x reader? Like from s1 when he calls for a family meeting, that he wants to marry Lizzie. But reader is there maybe she works with Grace at the bar and has known John since they were young. She was in love with him but he married Martha, reader helped with their kids and her births and when his wife died she stayed around to help John. But he never thought she looked at him like anything more than a brother. But Polly knew and Tommy too, so when John asks them about Lizzie in front of you. They all tell him he’s blind to not see how reader loves him and his kids. She is really sad cause she thinks he’s going through with the wedding to Lizzie but when he gets home that night and she’s watching the kids he finally talks to her and asks her how she really feels. Like he would see her in such a loving way he couldn’t even consider she’d ever want a man like him. A real cute ending would be lovely

John Shelby- Tell Me The Truth Pt1

I just realised writing this how similar to my last request this one is so this time I’ve used actual dialogue from the season 1. Might make this one into a little series. Hope you enjoy.

Also trigger warnings- swearing, talking about vomit, violence, the usual peaky blinders stuff.

“Oh for fucks sake” YN groans as a man vomits at the bar “I gotta clean that up now, fucking twat go ‘ome to ya wife”

“Why d’ya think I’m ‘ere love” the chap wipes the vomit from his mouth making YN shudder a little. Rolling her eyes YN goes to get her mop and bucket while she leaves Freddie and Tommy to talk, although knowing it may end up in someone getting hurt

“Hi YN” Finn, the youngest Shelby sibling says smiling at her

“Hey Finn, why aren’t ya at school” the boy shrugs his shoulders

“Borin’”

“It may be borin’ but do ya wanna end up like ya brothers? an alcoholic, an other a deceiver, another married at 17 because he fucked some poor girl. Get yourself some juice then head back to school”

“Fine” the boy whines but does as he’s told, well kind off. YN doesn’t need to know that he’s took the juice and headed off home.

Walking back to the bar with a mop and bucket and some other cleaning supplies, she now sees Tommy and Freddie holding Danny up. Glass and chairs thrown everywhere

“Oh hell did I do it again?” he asks

“You did it again Danny”

“Miss YN I’m so sorry” Danny cries

“It’s ok Danny” YN says sympathising with him. She knows better than anyone how the war has changed so many people and families. She worked as a nurse to help the injured soldiers. Combat Fatigue, or shell shock is what they called it when men would return home, but they weren’t themselves. Unfortunately Danny, once a sweet caring man, now has moments where he forgets where he is. Just a noise could set him off. Knowing this YN knows that she shouldn’t be harsh on him. It’s not his fault

“Mr Shelby you have to do something about him”

“Damn right Harry. You pay the peaky blinders a lot of money for protection. Your the law around here now, aren’t ya Tommy?” Freddie say as Tommy takes a swig of whiskey

“And what would you suggest? Hm? Putting a bullet through his head? Kill an innocent man? Thought you would have done enough of that during the war”

“YN back to work” Harry says pointing at the girl

“Sorry ‘man’s business’ right? that’s a load of fucking bollocks and you know that”

“Harry get YN to drop the bill off at the betting shop. We’ll take care of this” Tommy says putting his cap back on and walking out of the bar

“I don’t know why you’re still involved with that lot” Harry mutters grabbing a broom. YN shrugs

“Grew up with John boy didn’t I. They’re family”

“Yet the man you love married another. I’d leave them before they break you” with that Harry gets to sweeping the floor. What Harry said hurt YN, not the part about them breaking her, no. They wouldn’t do that, the Shelby’s all treat YN as family. The part that hurt YN was that John married Martha, YN’s best friend. Tommy always said it was only because he got her pregnant and wanted to do the right thing, but YN always wondered if he hadn’t of got Martha pregnant would he have ever married her? Would’ve he and YN had a chance? Well it’s to late now. John married Martha and now is a widower with 4 children who YN had help Polly deliver.

Later that evening YN walks home, having to pass Johns house where she can hear the chaos that is bath and bed time. Going against her better judgement, YN finds her feet making their way to Johns house and knocking on the door. A disheveled John answers the door

“Oh thank god your here. I don’t know how Martha did this everyday” sighing YN gives him a weak smile entering his house

“Just get a glass of whiskey for me for when we’re done”

[cchickki]

Peaky Blinders fanfiction

I recently moved all my old stories over to Archive of Our Own. Here’s an old Peaky Blinders story I’m still working on if anyone is interested, and for those who didn’t read it on my old blog!

Joanne <-------------------------------

Description: As a member of the American Red Cross, Joanne was in France treating the wounded and being exposed to the horrors of the Great War. After leaving America to reunite with an old friend, she unexpectedly meets one of the Shelby children by chance. Before she knows it, the troubled nurse is caught up in the gangster's lifestyle and is unable to escape the grip of the Peaky Blinders. John Shelby x OC

Chapters & word count: 8 / 18,513 (unfinished)

Rating: T (for now)

[wonderlanddreamer]

Please like/reblog this post if you're happy to be tagged in random PB fanfics. 🫶🏻

[wonderlanddreamer]

John @ Flo @novashelby

[cheekypeakyblinder]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

It was early morning. But today was Franny's lucky day. She was allowed to sleep in. The Shelby brothers were going to the fair. Or at least that's what Thomas told John and Arthur. He did however talk with Franny about the real appointment.

Thomas was taking his brothers to Johnny Doggs. A good friend of Thomas. He was handed a pretty good racing horse which he really wanted. Thomas was trying to expand their business with the horse tracks by having their own horses. And because Tommy was pretty sure he wasn't getting any money from Polly he asked the second in charge of the fault. Franny had crossed her arms and looked at him sheepishly. 'You know I actually quite like this job I have. Would be a shame if I lost it because Polly fucking bewitched me.'

Thomas had assured her it wasn't like that and she instead of getting the money herself had given Thomas the code of the vault. It changed daily thankfully. But when Franny heard the noise on the streets she was wide awake. It was horses their hoofs were clattering on the streets. ‘Franny get dressed.' Her father stormed into her room.

'I thought you were at work but it’s about to get fucking insane with coppers.' Her dad was still holding his cup of coffee. 'I have a little authority but not much.' he told her before walking out to let her get changed. 'For fucks sake' Franny cursed beneath her breath. She jumped out of bed and pulled on the dress that was on the chair of her bedroom she dressed quickly. When her father yelled from downstairs.' Francis!' 'Coming father.' She said while stumbling from the stairs.

Ada was standing in the opening of the backdoor. She was standing there with Freddie Thorne. Both Franny and her father were no commie fans, but it looked like they were in a bad position. Ada was wearing just her coat and her pajama's beneath it, still trying to pull her socks up. 'Upstairs Ada.' Franny pushed her upstairs.

'Explain.' Franny's father said to Freddie.'I can't stay the coppers are rounding up the communists.' he explained while putting on his coat. 'Freddie where are you gonna go.' Ada said standing up the stairs. 'Me? I have to leave town for a bit.' he said before blowing her a kiss and thanking Franny and her father. ‘Ada come on, get a dress from my room.' Franny shooed her upstairs.'Hopefully were safe then.' Franny said to her father while she started making tea.

'As long as you’re not in the horse shit her brothers are in, you're fine.' Her father said while sitting down grabbing his cup of coffee. Later in the afternoon Thomas, John, and Arthur came back to Watery Lane. To see it in a complete mess. 'What in the bloody hell happened here.' Arthur shouted. 'Get Franny.' Thomas said to John before stopping the car. He jumped out towards the Corbynn household. Thomas and Arthur kept on going to the Shelby household. But everyone was already there. Even Franny.

She was lighting herself a cigarette and lighting Polly's too. After a few minutes, John came back holding a bucket full of beer. he started handing everyone a mug. When he was done he snatched Franny’s cigarette.'I was going to fetch ya, but your dad told me you were already here looking at the damage.' he said with a smirk.' Can't leave us alone can ya?'

Franny looked at him. and just raised her eyebrow, before she could even speak up Arthur started talking. 'I said nothing to that copper about smashing up bloody houses. ''All right.' Thomas said when he walked in stealing the cigarette John had stolen from Franny. 'The guns, the Chain, The marquis.' Franny summed up grabbing back her own cigarettes from Thomas.

To which a few of the men behind Arthur hold their breath. Thomas was a fearless man, you can't just speak up against him, or even look at him the wrong way. But Franny had been around for so long he could have her wit. He didn't even look up and lit a cigarette of his own pack. 'All the ones that pay you to protect them.' Polly added to Franny. 'The only one they didn't touch was the Garrison.' Polly said inhaling a swig of her cigarette. 'Make sure people think we’re in on it.' Franny said as she tapped the ash of her cigarette.' He's smart this copper.' Polly said to Thomas.

'So go on. Drink your beers, get out!' Polly said to the guys who were just looking at their beers.' You'd better show people you are still the cocks of the walk.' 'Hand out some cash to the landlords of the pubs.' Thomas said when everyone stood up. 'Pay some veterans to fix the places up. ''Fran could you get the money?' he asked. To which she stood up and walked out back.

When Arthur and John stood up to get their coats Polly reminded them to show their faces so people would see they weren't in on this raiding the coppers had done. Polly closed the doors to the shop. So she and Thomas could have a private chat. Little did they know Franny was still out back to fetch the money they had asked for. 'He's not gonna stand back till he has those guns back.' Polly told Thomas. At that same moment, Fran burst in with the money.

And you could see the color shoot out of Polly's face. Thomas however did not even move except bringing the cigarette to his mouth. 'Sit.' He just said to Franny. Which she directly did. 'Did he talk to ya Poll?' Thomas asked Polly. 'In the church' she answered. 'Did he try to find our Ada?' He asked. Polly was not directly answering.

'Ada was with me this morning.' Franny said. 'We drank tea and were going to spend the day at the fair. Till those fucking coppers showed up.' Thomas looked up and looked straight into her eyes. These weren't normal eyes. Thomas had very very dark eyes he stared straight through your soul. But Franny knew him longer than that.

'She was, you gave me the morning off remember? What else was I supposed to do.' Thomas pushed out his cigarette. ‘He knows that you are the boss, he wants to meet you.' Polly said to Thomas. 'Will you talk to him?'

'No.' Thomas plainly said looking at the wallpaper. 'You don't parley when you're on the back foot. We'll strike a blow back first.' He said looking at Polly. 'Good.' Franny said. Both Thomas and Polly looked up at her. 'What if, we burn all the pictures of the king.' Franny said while lighting a cigarette. ‘Give everyone something for their picture and burn it. I'll call my dad to put in the paper as a statement. Everyone will read it.' She inhaled her tug of the cigarette and looked at the both of them. Thomas just nodded his head.

'Get your coat.' He said to Franny and the both of them walked out of the house. Later that evening Franny was walking with Finn. 'You get the picture out of the Garrison.' she said to him. She saw John walking with his hand full of pictures of the king. 'Fran, what are you doing out this late?' he asked her with a smug smile on his face. 'Here let me hold a few for you.' She said as she got a few smaller pictures herself. 'Finn is fetching the one in the Garrison.' she told him.

'Well let's get to the fire.' he said pulling her with him they were both smirking and walking towards the middle of Watery Lane. Finn came running along with the picture of the Garrison. By the entry of the street. Where the street was called Watery Lane were parked multiple cars. To block down the entryway for people who didn't need to be there. 'John.' Scudboat and the other Blinder Franny hadn't met yet tipped their hat at John.'Miss Corbynn.' both of them said nodding to her.

Finn was running past them to the fire. When they had passed the blinders John and Franny shared a look together. Before the both of them snort their laughter. 'Miss Corbynn.' John said. 'You sound like Royalty.' Franny was rolling with her eyes as they joined the others by the fire. Finn was throwing the pictures Franny was holding into the fire. People were cheering as they saw the pictures of the king burn.

'Chuck them on boys.' Thomas said. Everyone was holding drinks. John got handed a cup of beer and he looked at Franny. ‘We need some more here.' he shouted back. 'Oh no need, I brought my own.' Franny said as she opened her coat and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. John was blinking a few times before handing Finn his cup and throwing his pictures on the fire too.

'Finn!' Franny said snatching the cup from him as he was sipping it.' You're 10!' She said patting him on his hat. 'Still 11 Sunday.' he said cockily to which John patted him on his back. 'Where did you get that bottle Fran?' Arthur said with a smirk. 'I need to get me some of that.' he said which Franny handed him the bottle.

Arthur chewed the cork of the bottle and spit it in the fire before taking a big chug. 'I hope to god you know what you're doing.' Arthur said to Thomas. Thomas looked over at Franny. 'He's coming right?' 'Absolutely.' she answered Both Arthur and John were looking mildly confused by that. When Franny took the bottle from Arthur again and took a sip herself. ‘Still impressed you're one of the first women I can actually say can hold her own with drinking. And you're not even a gypsy!' John said patting her on the back.

'I need to do something to keep my sanity with you three.' She said as she handed the bottle to John. To which the three of them looked at her. John with a 'fake' hurt feeling on his face. Arthur with the confused excuse me look. And Thomas just with a neutral expression. But Franny could see he was trying to not smile behind his cigarette.

After a few minutes of listening to everyone around the fire. And trying to hold Finn from not lighting woman’s skirts on fire. She saw her dad coming at them. 'Tommy! someone here for ya.' Scudboat said. 'Thomas Fran said you had something I could put on the morning paper.' Franny's father said walking up to the Shelby brothers. 'I have.' Thomas said taking another hit of his cigarette. 'So tell me what's going on?' He asked pulling out his notebook. 'I like you.' Thomas said as he was looking at the notebook.

'Now, first of all, It's not the people around here who are disloyal to the King.' Thomas started.' It's the opposite. You see, we don't want our beloved King looking down and seeing the things that are being done to us. So we are taking down his pictures. ' Thomas was calmly explaining looking directly into the fire. 'But Thomas, why are you burning them?' Fran’s father asked. 'We went through hell for our King. The same goes for you. Walked through the flames of war And now we're being attacked in our own homes. These new coppers over from Belfast, breaking into our homes and interfering with our women. We don't think our King would want to see that happening. So we're lighting fires to raise the alarm.' Thomas had turned to speak to Fran's father directly when he started to mention the war. They had fought alongside each other.

'May I ask you, in what capacity do you speak?' Fan's father asked. 'None.. No capacity. I am an ordinary man. I won gallantry medals at the Somme. I want you to write in your paper what's going on here.' Thomas said throwing the last piece of his cigarette in the fire. 'Thanks, Thomas, I shall get to the office.' Fran's dad said.

'Arthur will bring ya.' Thomas said as he threw Arthur the car keys. 'Thank you.' He answered. But before he went he walked over to Franny.' It's getting late I think it's for the best I'll take you home first.' He said putting a hand on her head.' Oh, it's fine Mr. Corbynn.' John said. 'I'll bring her home.' 'That would be great John. Thankyou.' He said before kissing Franny's head and walking off with Arthur.