#John Shelby fanfiction

[wonderlanddreamer]

Tommy Shelby × Reader

Rough Desires - Tommy is always gentle with you, but you crave something with more ferocity. 18+ Only.

The Stable Girl's Sacrifice - Tommy Shelby is forced to confront his feelings when you take a bullet meant for him.

Shadows & Vows - When Tommy discovers bruises on your skin, a fierce protectiveness awakens within him.

Jealous Heat - It's a dangerous game making Tommy Shelby jealous, but you play it so well. 18+ Only.

Sleep vs. Sex - Tommy wakes you up in the middle of the night because he needs you. 18+ Only.

Buried - Buried beneath the earth, Tommy's only hope lies in your relentless determination to bring him back.

Lean On Me - When you're hurt during an incident at the Garrison, it's Tommy who notices and takes care of you.

Do You Know What Happens To Naughty Girls? - Where discipline sets the stage for an intense power play with the Shelby brothers. 18+ Only.

John Shelby × Reader

Bite Me, John Shelby - "Wait, I didn't mean literally!" You get more than you bargained for when you playfully challenge John Shelby. 18+ Only.

Obsession - John Shelby owns you, and he isn't going to let you forget it. 18+ Only.

Alfie Solomons × Reader

His Serenity - After Alfie has a bad day, you help him find peace in your own, sensual way. 18+ Only.

Head Over Heels - A business meeting with Alfie Solomons when Alfie has anything but business on the brain. 18+ Only.

[runnning-outof-time]

If It’s Meant to Be | John Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: John Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: John and (Y/N) were friends when they were younger. Life, as life does, pulls them apart for some time before they find each other again while (Y/N) is helping someone who happened to be lost.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers…maybe?? (I’m re-writing canon to make things better), language

Word Count: 4450

A/N: if I’m being honest I quite enjoyed following your prompt/request, anon! I hope I was able to add everything you were hoping into it and that it turned out along the lines of what you were imagining! I’m sorry that it’s taken ages for me to share. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That phrase gets thrown around so much. John Shelby always thought that he and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) were meant to be. But things didn’t quite work out that way…at first.

They were practically inseparable as teens. All it took was one meeting near the cut for the two to know that they wanted to be in each others lives for as long as possible.

Wherever (Y/N) was, John was to be found close by. If John was out doing something, nine times out of ten (Y/N) was helping out in some way.

Family members often joked that the two were attached at the hip. Ada even went as far as to conspire with (Y/N)’s younger sister, the two saying that they were excited to become future sister-in-laws.

But things don’t always work out to plan.

The dream of the families uniting as one through John and (Y/N)’s union crumbled slowly rather than it just being one, major blow.

(Y/N) started delving more into her studies; having big dreams of graduating and going further in schooling so that she could make something of herself. She’d always wanted to have more than just the lower-level jobs that Small Heath had to offer. She still tried to see John as much as she could, but the nights that were once spent gallivanting around the streets together had now been swapped for study sessions.

John couldn’t be completely mad at his friend. He wanted her to succeed and have the life that she was dreaming of. Sure he missed her company, and truly relished in the time that they were still able to spend together, but to say that he was now left completely in his lonesome would be a lie.

John met Martha Davies when she and her family moved to Small Heath.

Unlike how he was with (Y/N), who he tried so hard to hide his deeper feelings for behind the mask of friendship, John immediately went forward with expressing his desire to get to know Martha better.

While (Y/N) was busy with studying, John was busy with Martha. It was easy to tell how quickly the two had fallen for each other.

The news - though it really shouldn’t have given how quickly the two became…acquainted with each other - came as a shock just only six months into John knowing Martha. Hell, (Y/N) had only met her a handful of times before John was excitedly telling her the news that Martha was pregnant and he was going to be a father.

(Y/N) should have been happy for him. And on the outside she tried her best to present her emotions that way. But deep down, her real feelings that she’d been harboring towards her friend for years now were being crushed. She always pushed them aside for fear that he only purely saw her as a friend; for the fear that her revealing them would cause him to run from her life forever. Now there was no way that he’d ever know of them.

John, who was just a few months shy from his final teenage year, was now going to be a husband and father — he felt it was only right that he marry Martha given the fact that they’d now share a child.

If John was going to grow up this suddenly, (Y/N) felt that she should to. Her prelininary studies were finished and she was ready to go and make something of herself.

And so she moved to London, one step closer to her dream but many miles away from the person who grew up alongside her.

— 1924 —

Ada was the first to learn that (Y/N) was back in town. She didn’t waste any time in inviting her to what the Shelby woman promised would be ‘an amazing evening’.

Many things had changed since (Y/N) had last seen the Shelbys. One of the more major ones was the fact that they had quickly rose into wealth and power.

On this particular evening, Tommy and his new wife, Grace, were holding one of their regular events; where people of power and prospective business partners gathered to shake hands and attempt to make deals. It was a circle that (Y/N) felt she was so far removed from.

Ada’s persistence was hard to ignore though. She kept focusing on the fact that it was a different sort of event for the family invovled, and that everyone would be thrilled to see her again. (Y/N) couldn’t deny the fact that she, too, would be overjoyed to see the Shelbys again…even if it meant that her heart might break.

She made sure to wear one of her more sophisticated outfits and that her appearance was as perfect as it could get. When the time to leave arrived, she checked over herself in the mirror one last time before grabbing her clutch and heading down to the car that was waiting for her.

The manor she pulled up to left her in awe. Never did she expect to be welcomed into a place as grand as this. But if there was anyone in her life, past or present, who could be capable of obtaining this sort of grandeur, it would no doubt be Tommy Shelby.

“(Y/N)!” Of course Ada was the first person to find her. “I’m so happy you came!” the brunette exclaimed as she hasitly pulled her into a hug.

“You doubted I would?” (Y/N) asked, trying to focus on her friend rather than the crowd of people present in the grand foyer area of the manor. If there’s this many people in the entry room, how many would be in the banquet hall? she thought to herself.

“Never,” the other woman shook her head, “come with me. The others will be so excited that you’re here!” she then said, taking hold of (Y/N)’s forearm so that she could lead her into the banquet hall. (Y/N) hesitantly followed, not quite wanting to see the man she used to call ‘best friend’ just yet.

Thankfully Ada pulled her to Polly first. (Y/N) was happy to see her. Polly was just as much an aunt to her as she was the Shelby siblings. And, much like Ada had promised, the older woman was thrilled to see her again.

Time quickly slipped away and (Y/N) truly felt like the tiny group that had been assembled were the only ones in the room. She quickly slipped into a comfortable state, the crowds of people truly disappearing as the women caught up on everything they’d missed out on in the others’ lives.

Ada was the first to be pulled away. She was found by one of the house’s staff — which blew (Y/N)’s mind…Tommy had staff now?! — who needed her because Karl was becoming restless and ready for bed. She promised that she’d only be gone briefly and that she’d find Polly and (Y/N) again as soon as she was finished.

Polly got pulled away too. Tommy needed her to meet a prospective business partner. He greeted (Y/N) warmly — after he realized it was her — and expressed his gladness to see her before asking his aunt to join him for a moment.

Now (Y/N) was alone in this crowded hall of people. She stood and did some crowd-watching for some time (people just being people truly fascinated her) before deciding to go and find some refreshments to indulge in.

But she didn’t make it to said refreshments table…and it seemed that she wasn’t the only person who was alone at the party.

Although there were people moving all around, it seemed as though she was the only person who noticed the small boy who was cowering into himself with fear present in his eyes.

Cautiously, and with a friendly smile, she approached the child, whose bottom lip was quivering. It was evident that he’d been crying. “Do you need help, sweetheart?” she asked him, keeping her voice calm and level in hopes to not spook him any more than he already had been.

The boy only nodded his head, his wide eyes matching hers. The desperation present in them nearly broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Are you hurt?” she asked a question.

The boy shook his head, ringing his small hands together.

(Y/N) inwardly sighed in relief. At least he’s not hurt, she thought to herself, now what could be the matter? After racking her brain, she asked another question, “are you looking for someone?”

The boy nodded this time. More relief filled (Y/N)’s body. He said nothing in addition to his nod, though, so she still had some more questions to ask.

“A friend?” she asked, remembering that she’d seen several children running around the room earlier.

The boy shook his head.

“A grown up?”

The boy nodded.

Ok, on the right track, (Y/N) thought, nodding along with him. “Your parents?” she asked.

“M-my dad,” the boy finally spoke, his mouse-like voice breaking (Y/N)’s heart. What he said next shattered it even further into pieces, “my mummy’s not here anymore. She…my aunt said she went to heaven.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” (Y/N) gave her condolences with a frown. “How about we go find your dad, hmm?” she then asked, offering another friendly smile.

“Ok,” the boy nodded, reaching his hand out for (Y/N) to take. The woman smiled as she accepted it, and the two began walking, searching through the crowd for his father.

“Let me know if you see him, ok?” (Y/N) said to the boy. She’d just realized that she had no idea who his father was.

“Johnny there you are!” a young girl exclaimed, her eyes set on the boy (Y/N) had been helping.

“We were looking everywhere for you!” a second girl chimed in.

(Y/N) looked down at the boy, whose expression hadn’t changed. She crouched down slightly to be more on his level. “Do you know them?” she asked him.

The boy nodded. “They’re my sisters,” he answered, his eyes still focused on the girls, who were now approached them.

“Who are you, miss?” the older of the two girls asked once they stopped in front of (Y/N) and the boy.

“My name’s (Y/N),” the woman introduced herself with a smile, “your brother was lost and needed some help finding your dad.”

“Well we don’t know where dad is either,” the younger of the two girls stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “but Johnny can come with us. We’re dancing.”

(Y/N) looked to the boy, who had calmed down significantly now. “Is it ok if you stay with your sisters?” she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly.

The boy nodded his head, the slightest of smiles now present on his face. (Y/N) smiled back, happy that he was no longer upset. But he caught her hand before she was able to stand up straight again. “Will you stay with us, Miss (Y/N)?” he asked in a sweet voice.

The question really wasn’t up for decision in (Y/N)’s mind. She knew her answer right away. Hell, she had nothing else better to do, or no one else she needed to see…so why not pass the time with these kids? “Of course,” she answered with a smile, laughing softly as the three children all cheered in joy. The little group wasted no time falling into beat with the music and dancing with smiles on their faces.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Polly and Ada had regrouped and were now watching her and the children as they danced.

“I wonder if she knows,” Ada queried out loud, watching her friend dance with her neices and nephew with a small smile.

“I don’t think she does,” Polly answered, shaking her head. A tight-lipped smile was also present on her face.

“You two seen any of the kids anywhere?” the voice of John Shelby came from behind the ladies, “ran off a while ago…haven’t fucking seen them since.”

Ada and Polly shared a look, both biting back smiles. John was able to catch said look.

“Well go on…share it,” he pressed them, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He didn’t have time for this…there were drinks to drink and ladies to charm. If they thought he’d be spending the entire evening chasing after his children, they’d be dead wrong.

“Your youngest was up with Karl. He was asleep when I went to attend to him,” Ada shared some information about Maxwell Shelby, John’s four year old.

“And the others?” John’s brows were now raised.

“They’re right over there,” Polly answered, pointing a finger in the direction of the dancing group.

John wasted no time following her finger and when he did, his world stopped. No. That…that couldn’t be her…could it? Questions raced through his mind as memories flooded back. God, she looks more beautiful than the day she left me, he was so entranced that he just about forgot how to breathe.

“John?”

The voice of his aunt brought him back to reality, and he shook his head as he snapped out of the trance she put him in. A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck instinctively, and he hoped that he could play off his staring. The grins on both of the women’s faces told another story.

“He didn’t hear a word you said, Pol,” Ada snickered, loving the fact that she was able to poke fun at her brother.

“Oh fuck off,” John grumbled, trying so hard to keep his focus on his family and not the beautiful woman that was still playing with his children. A silence fell between the trio and John took it to do just what he was stopping himself from moments ago. “I…I, uh, I should…” he stopped his babbling, clearing his throat and trying to regain his wits. Christ, just the sight of her had him babbling like a fucking child. “I should probably uh, probably go over and see how they’re getting on,” his statement sounded more like a suggestion…which was weird because he was essentially suggesting for himself to go and do it.

“Go on then,” Polly wasted no time in agreeing with her nephew, motioning over to where (Y/N) and the children still were.

“Yeah,” John agreed, like it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. He didn’t move though.

“Grow a pair and get on with it, John,” Ada snapped him out of the trance he once again fell into, still grinning at the fact that John was very much acting like a lovesick fool at the moment. In fact she hadn’t seem him like this since…well since he was around (Y/N).

With one last glare, John finally heeded to their nudges and started off in (Y/N)’s direction. Her back was to him as he approached, and she was dancing with his eldest son, Johnny. His daughters, Jane and Katie, did see him coming though, their eyes lighting up when they realized he was there.

“Daddy!” they exclaimed in unison.

The yelling of the girls made (Y/N) stop what she was doing and turn. Seeing the person who they’d addressed made the breath get caught in her throat. No. It can’t be, she thought to herself, her heartrate quickening by the second.

John was - also - back to staring again. He still couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him.

“Dad…dad, did you hear me?” the sound of Katie’s impatient voice brought him back to reality. He focused in on his daughter as he heard the sweet sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles. They made it feel like there was heat being placed on the back of his neck.

“I…I didn’t, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he sheepishly answered his child.

“I was telling you that this is (Y/N). She found Johnny and then agreed to stay and dance with us. She’s really nice,” Katie explained again.

Her being referred to gave John the go ahead to look at (Y/N) again. This time he willed himself to stay focused and not get lost in the memories they shared together, or how beautiful she looked.

“She helped me because I was crying and didn’t know where anyone was,” Johnny shared, “she’s really friendly. I think we could all be friends.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched (Y/N) stiffle her laugh. “Yeah, Johnny, I, uh…I—” God you look like a babbling fool right now, get ahold on yourself, John-boy, was ringing out in John’s mind.

(Y/N) watched him intently, waiting to hear how he would address the past between them. Would he address the past between them?

“I used to know (Y/N)…we used to be best friends when we was younger,” he finally shared with the children, feeling silly for holding his breath as he waited for their response.

There was a moment’s pause as the three little Shelbys looked at each other. It felt like eternity to the two adults, who looked as if they wanted to say so much to each other. Soon smiles formed on the children’s faces.

“That’s great that you’re already friends with her, daddy!” Katie exclaimed, beaming up at John.

“When can she come over?” Jane eagerly asked, her question making (Y/N) laugh as her heart bursted with love.

“That’ll be up to her,” John answered, laughing at his childrens innocent questions, the heat still creeping up his neck.

“Your father and I will have to talk about it,” (Y/N) added her own response, a sweet smile present on her features. She then looked at John, her expression telling him that they’d have to find each other later to catch up.

“Please talk about it later, daddy!” Johnny exclaimed, a pleading look present on his face.

“I will, Johnny, I will,” he assured the boy, nodding both to him and to (Y/N), silently accepting her invitation.

(Y/N) was resting against one of the balconies on the side terrace of the manor later that evening when she heard footsteps approaching her. She didn’t bother to turn and look; having a good idea of who could be coming.

“You followed through with the invitation,” she commented as John came to a rest beside her.

“Always do, angel,” John responded, his usage of her old nickname making her heart flutter.

It was one that he frequently used when they were younger…she was always doing the right thing; always acting like an angel. John loved to call her it in a teasing manner and though she’d wrinkle her nose up when he used it, she secretly loved it. Tonight, however, he used it in a sincere manner, and it just about made (Y/N) weak at the knees.

“You don’t know how surprised I was when I saw you with me kids,” John admitted then, looking out at the grounds his brother owned.

“The surprise was pretty clear on your face, John,” (Y/N) responded, giggling as his eyes shot to match hers; wide in surprise.

“Never was good at hiding stuff from you,” he said in a sheepish tone, shaking his head. “How’d you find out about this?” he asked then.

“Ada found out I was back in town. She invited me,” she answered. John made a mental note to thank his sister later. “It was nice meeting your kids,” she said with a smile.

“They’ll probably talk about you for days,” he said with a laugh, looking away from her for a moment. “Only good things I’ve left,” he mused, his tone sounded solemn.

Silence fell between them as (Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer her condolences or not. She didn’t know if the wounds were still fresh, or when it had even happened. “I’m sorry about Martha, John,” she finally said.

“I am, too,” he responded, looking down at his feet as he took a deep breath, “feel bad for those kids most of all. They didn’t really even get to know her.”

“That must’ve been tough,” (Y/N) mused.

“It was…” John agreed, “it has been,” he then corrected.

“I’m home now, so I’m…”

“You’re home?” John cut into her statement, his eyes widening as they found hers again.

“I am,” she affirmed, smiling softly before continuing, “I’d be happy to help you with your kids if you need at all.”

John smiled as he heard what she said. He couldn’t lie, he was suprised by how gracious she was being. There were a thousand words he wanted to say, but all he was able to get out was: “thank you, (Y/N).”

For her, it was enough.

Silence fell between them once again as (Y/N) wrestled with yet another thought; one that she’d been wanting to say since he joined her outside. After a few moments, she finally took the leap and said it.

“You know, I always thought we’d end up together…I always thought that it’d be us,” she made sure to train her eyes on the darkened landscape as she spoke. She couldn’t handle seeing John’s expression as it changed.

“I…” John hesitated.

“That wasn’t me trying to insert myself into anything. I’m sorry if it sounded that way,” she scrambled to cover up, not even thinking of how he could have taken her admission. “I just…I wanted that to be known. I spent too long dancing around it without saying what I felt,” she took a deep breath, debating on whether to add anything more. There was one more thing she was burning to say, “I had-have a lot of love for you, John.”

It took a few moments for him to digest what she had said. Never did he think that she’d be admitting these feelings to him. He always thought that he’d have to keep his boxed away for the rest of his life. But now she’d put hers out in the open, it would be silly of him to withhold his.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to get her to look at him before he shared his confession. His one word statement succeeded in getting her eyes to match his. “I’ve always loved you, (Y/N),” he admitted, his voice holding a sincereness he hadn’t used in a while.

“You’re being serious?” she asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she wanted to smile so big right now.

“So serious,” he whispered, smiling as he spoke.

“I…” she paused to let out a laugh, feeling so silly for what she was about to admit to him, “I really wanna kiss you right now, John Shelby.”

“Then kiss me, (Y/N),” he wasted no time in agreeing to what she was suggesting, slowly moving to rest his hands on her waist. He was gentle in his touch, silently letting her know that she could break away if she wanted. She didn’t.

(Y/N) reached to take hold of his jacket’s lapels before leaning in slightly. John got the message, meeting her halfway so that their lips could—finally— meet. The — what felt like — lifetime’s wait for this moment was most certainly worth it.

— Three Years Later —

“Katie!” (Y/N) called out, knowing that the eldest child was in the next room over. Her joyful scream was a distinctive one, and the woman was able to hear it amongst at least two others. It didn’t take long before the girl appeared in the archway of the room John and (Y/N) were sitting in.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. It was obvious that she’d been playing.

“I need you and your siblings to try and keep your voices down, ok?” (Y/N) kindly asked.

“Why’s that, mum?” the young girl inquired.

(Y/N) froze before she could give her answer, her mouth agape. Katie had just called her ‘mum’.

Thankfully John was able to step in and continue the conversation—because it had became obvious to him that (Y/N) couldn’t. “Because mum’s just gotten Ella to sleep. We don’t want her to wake again,” he explained, motioning to the baby that was sleeping on (Y/N)’s chest.

“Ok, dad,” Katie conceded without a fight. Both John and (Y/N) gave a soft thanks and watched as she went to leave. She’d only moved from the arch for a second before returning to say one last thing, “you should know that it’s really Max who was making all of the noise.”

Her statement made both adults laugh. “Go on,” John waved her off. The girl gave one more toothy smile before running off to her siblings.

“Did she…?” (Y/N) finally got out, surprise laced into her words.

“She did,” John grinned as he looked at his wife, “mum.”

It may have seemed like nothing special to someone looking on, but to (Y/N), what just happened was monumental. This was the first time Katie Shelby had called her mum.

(Y/N) and John hardly spent a moment separated since the night they rekindled their friendship…which quickly turned into a relationship…which quickly turned into them getting married and having a child together.

With their dear little Eloise being born just five months ago, both felt that their family was now perfect. But even though (Y/N) took on the role of mother to John’s four children in every sense of the term, she never forced the kids to address her by the name. Martha was their mum, and not even her being gone could change that.

One by one, though, the kids began calling her mum. Katie was the last to hold out. The eldest girl would always address her as ‘(Y/N)’, and (Y/N) was perfectly fine with that. Which is why when the girl used the ‘m-word’ just now, she froze in her tracks. She couldn’t help but blush as she looked at John, who was grinning like a fool.

“She called me mum,” she whispered again, more to herself than anything.

“She did,” John repeated, his voice soft as he smiled at his wife.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be is the phrase that always gets thrown around. Luckily — thankfully — for John and (Y/N), it was meant to be.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @ce1iat @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite

@jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway @mysticalfuncollectorus @sleepyycatt @novashelby

[zablife]

A Little Seasoning

Summary: Desperate to make a good first impression on your in-laws, you invite everyone to dinner. John proves to be less than helpful in the kitchen.

A/N: Requested by @brummiereader who provided the prompt "It's just a little seasoning."

Hovering above the open oven, you smiled at the pleasing aroma wafting toward you. The fresh herbs you'd picked this morning were a lovely addition to the dish you'd spent the day preparing and you couldn't help but squeal with delight. "It's perfect," you whispered to yourself, hoping it would impress your new in-laws.

Your excitement faded as an intrusive odor suddenly met your nostrils, competing with your exquisite meal. Craning your neck to find the source, your gaze landed on your husband.

John sat across the kitchen from you, an uncharacteristic scowl despite the fine cigar in his hand. He puffed away in pensive silence which told you everything you needed to know about his mood.

"Still sulking?" you joked with a giggle.

"Don't fancy the naughty step if that's what you're asking," he grumbled.

"It's your own fault, John Shelby!" you reminded him, waving a wooden spoon in his direction playfully.

"I said I would help and I did," he countered with boyish earnestness.

"How exactly was fucking me going to help prepare dinner?" you asked, trying not to think of the delicious way his hands rested over your breasts as you chopped vegetables or the way his hard length pressed against your backside as you stood at the sink.

"Thought you wanted the family to know you cooked with love?" he retorted, misquoting you in the most infuriatingly adorable way possible.

You huffed out a quiet sigh of pretend exasperation, crossing the room to take his hand in yours. "I just want them to love me as much as you do," you confessed, searching his deep blue eyes intently.

"How could they not?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you with the gentle reassurance you'd grown to crave. The embers flamed to a raging fire soon enough, John's large hand snaking around the back of your neck to hold you fast. It was then you realized you'd been caught between his long legs with no escape.

"Let me go!" you squealed in protest.

"Not until you pardon me!" he bargained.

"Fine! I pardon you," you said, knocking him on the shoulder with your wooden spoon.

"Finally!" he sighed with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Accompanying you to the hob, he watched as you stirred a sauce prepared over an hour ago. It smelled so delicious he couldn't help but lean in to savor the scent. Unfortunately for you, his cigar came with him and with the cigar a large clump of ash. It landed directly in the center of the bubbling sauce, a hiss emitting from the liquid at the indignation.

You gasped in horror at what you'd just witnessed, wheeling around to study a sheepish looking John. "Wh-what have you done?" you whimpered.

John's eyes turned away from you shamefully, biting his lip as he offered, "It's just a little seasoning?"

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

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@lovemissyhoneybee

@novashelby

@pono-pura-vida

@iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface

@writeroutoftime

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Tiny Shelby Feet - A John Shelby/Reader Short Story.

Just a fluffy lil' short that came to me this morning, besties. Hope you love it :)

Words - 700

Warnings - None. Fluff a' plenty!

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

No, you absolutely are not alright. And it’s all his fault.  

Being angry at him isn’t an option, though, because he’s always so good to you. Hell, it was him being very good to you that got you into this in the first place, your stomach swollen and rounded with the next Shelby offspring due to arrive into the family in the next couple of days.  

You toss and turn a little more, albeit slowly, heaving your bulk to lie on your back. “I can’t get comfortable.”  

“Bet ya can’t, bab. Can’t even imagine what it’s like,” he speaks softly, removing one of the pillows from beneath his head. “Lift up.” Pushing yourself up, he slides it beneath your lower back, the downy plumpness soothing against your aching back. “What is it like, though? Is there anything it’s similar to that I’d understand?” 

It’s sweet of him to even want to try and comprehend the feeling of being pregnant, at least. “Imagine if somebody gave you a gallon of Epsom salts and sewed your arsehole up.”  

His eyes bulge. “Jesus fuckin’ wept. That don’t sound like fun.” Those eyes continue to widen when he sees you beginning to wince through gritted teeth. “Ain’t coming, is he?”  

“No, no it’s a cramp in my thigh.” 

“Left or right?” 

“Left.” Your instruction has him reaching beneath the bedcovers, beginning to massage said thigh, the tightened muscles finally relenting within the grasp of his warm, skillful hands. Bloody John Shelby and his skillful hands. Again, it’s how you ended up like this in the first place. “Okay, that’s better now. Thanks, love.” 

He props himself up on an elbow, hand lovingly stroking your bump, smiling as he feels his unborn child wriggling beneath his palm. You still remember the day you felt those first kicks, running down to the betting shop and grabbing his hand so he could feel them, too. You’ll never forget how lit up he looked at the sensation of tiny feet nudging against his big hand. “Who do you think he’ll look like most, you or me?” 

You can’t help yourself. “Me, hopefully.” 

“Oi, you cheeky mare!” Desired effect achieved. “I suppose it’d be better. I know I’m handsome, but we don’t want two freckled ginger nuts in the house.” 

“I really hope she has your hair, and your freckles,” you speak, putting extra emphasis on the word she. ”You know I love your freckles." 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, batting your hand away from where your finger trails over his shoulder. 

“Oi, no violence! I’m carrying your daughter!” 

“Son!” he corrects with a pointed finger. “You’re carrying me son. No girls, they’re too much headache for my liking.”  

“Poor thing’ll likely never see the outside of the house until she’s eighteen,” you chuckle, stroking your bump lovingly. 

He snorts, curling his lip slightly. “And the fucking rest! Ain’t having no boys round her, oh no, none of that malarkey.” He then lifts his chin a little, nodding to your rounded belly. “That is if it’s even a girl in the first place, and I’m still saying it’s a boy.”  

You smile, your eyes growing tired, yawning right on cue. Finally comfortable, you’re able to settle, drifting off to the rhythmic stroke of John’s hand over your belly. He thinks you’ve nodded off, unaware that you can hear every word he whispers to your unborn child.  

“Don’t even matter to me, you know, what you are,” he speaks softly, leaning to lay a kiss just above your protruded belly button. “I’ll love you until the last beat of my heart. I will. Anything you want, it’s yours. You ain’t gonna grow up poor and scratching around to make ends meet like we all had to. I’m gonna be a proper dad to you, little’un.” 

You can feel a lump in your throat form thickly, smiling on the inside as you drift into slumber. It’s nothing compared to two days later, though, when you see John holding your newborn son in his arms for the first time, his eyes filled with happy tears. Or, when five minutes later, you birth the twin sister nobody knew you carried, too.  

[novashelby]

Sorry to be Blunt-John Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Warnings: Anal...just anal. John is licking booty hole while being an absolute king of a lover. Some spanking, biting, kissing, and clit loving. Dirty talk cause John has a sexy mouth. Word Count: 1,835 words of loving your ass Summary: John didn't want the tea, he wanted her...Well, her ass.

Please comment and reblog! Thank you for your support. I wrote this cause no one ever writes anal, and man, that is depressing.

John had discreetly locked the door behind them when they initially walked in for tea. The chemist’s daughter was supposed to be working the counter until kind John Shelby played sweet, innocent, and genuine. He’d been going to the same pharmacy for his children’s cough syrup for years, seeing her each time; shy, sweet, helpful. Oh, how helpful she was going to be now that he had her bent over the small kitchenette table of the staff room…. Every time he’d see her, all he’d think about was his hands full of her ass; pinching and grabbing, digging his hands into her soft flesh. “Never expected you to be this easy, love.” John chuckled in her ear as he slowly, tauntingly rolled up her dress skirts. “Not a bit of fight in you, huh?” The poor girl shivered as the cool air in the room hit her skin. John pushed up her garments until they rested upper back.

They were just having tea a few minutes prior, she thought, questioning her own actions as she offered herself. She did all that he asked…the tea was perfect, to his liking and she was sure of that. That is why she was so confused when John Shelby simply looked in the cup, studied it and decided it wasn’t what he wanted. “What? Is something wrong?” is what she asked him when he lazily brushed it off to the side and leaned back in the chair, eying her with his hands folded. 

Grinning, he nodded to her. “May I be blunt?”

And not expecting what he’d say next, she agreed. “Bluntness is nice. Is the tea not to your liking? I can make a new-”

“Please.” John casually grinned and said as if it was no issue. “I don’t want tea, really, I don’t. And I apologize for the effort you went through to make it.” With his hand, he motioned over her body. “Truthfully, I am a single man with four children and a busy job-”

“I’m sorry for that?”

John put his hand up. “Please. Anyway, whores are shite these days and I come in here a lot. I see you.” She knew he had enjoyment seeing the embarrassment on her face; the way the balls of her cheeks turned a rosy red. “I like what I see. You bending over, your arse outlined perfectly in your skirts as you restock the bottom shelves-personally, I think about it often-”

“Excuse me!”

“And because I am a Shelby, I have the right to say the most vulgar shite,” he added, standing. “I want to lick your arsehole….” 

She couldn’t recall what he said or did next, but she did understand that she was bent well over the table, gripping for her dear life; anticipating and waiting for his hands to tease all over her body. John stepped back, admiring her body. There was something so incredibly beautiful and erotic about her bare back; how the curves outline from the other side and the way her ass looked decorated in those pretty lace underwear. How he never expected her to be so experimental with her undergarments, but he was in no position to question that. Mesmerized, John took a step forward, his fingers dancing shapes over her back. A little smile tugged upon his lips as goosebumps shivered over her bare skin. She let out a long sigh as he tickled his fingers down her back and hooked around her panties. As he pulled them down, he kneeled, taking in her beautiful curves. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

A tiny murmur slipped from her lips as he continued to tease her with his feather-like touches, knowing damn well the tingles they were sending up her spine. They felt like zaps and jolts prodding at her delicate frame, allowing her head to buzz. John saw from the way her calves tightened, she felt so…heightened by everything. He watched closely as he drew with his fingers. “Bet your ass is pure,” he whispered. With both hands, he grabbed her perfect ass, one cheek in each hand; curling his fingers into her skin and watching her whimper out. Chuckling, he pulled at her ass before letting go. “Most men are too pussy. Me? Hmmm….I love a nice ass like yours.” He grinned, moving his hand back and landing a rather generous spank. Not to hurt her, but just enough to watch it jiggle. “Fuck….”

She cried out loud, arching her back. “Mr. Shelby!”

“Good girl, remembering her manners,” he complimented, landing a spank on her other ass cheek. When she tried to yelp and climb over the table in reaction, he whispered, “no, no, no, come back.” He hugged an arm around her waist and brought her back down, resting his face against the small of her back. “Okay, okay. We don’t have to do that no more, love.” He placed a small kiss against the small of her back lingering there. Kneeling before her, he gently spread her legs.

His lips felt cold against her most sensitive flesh. He kissed a trail down one cheek, each kiss got longer until he surprised her, taking her flesh between his teeth and pulling. “A-ah!” she stuttered out, trying to find something to grasp. He let go and landed a kiss on the burning patch of teeth marks. She managed to give him a look over her shoulders. “Mr. Shelby-”

“Mmmhm,” he said, half listening, turning his attention to the other cheek. That time kissing from the bottom up. By the third kiss, he licked up and gave a little nibble before placing the last kiss. She didn’t know what she wanted to say and therefore, closed her eyes and paid attention to all his little touches. He spread her open and smiled. “Virgin little ass. I bet you are so tight,” he said in thought. He moved a finger in, just lightly touching her in circles. 

“Never,” she whispered, unintentionally clenching in nerves.

“My favorite thing…stretching a tight ass,” he chuckled, watching her get worked up. “No, no, calm down.” He pressed down on her back to relax her. “Not today, or ever, if you don’t want to…I mean, I’d like to. Like to stretch this ass. I bet it’d feel so good wrapped around me.” John leaned over her, a ball of spit forming at his lips. It dropped over her hole and he rubbed it in, dipping his finger in just until the first knuckle.

“Mmmm,” she whined out in a muffle, tightening harder around him. It didn’t hurt so much as it felt different. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, wiggling his finger a little. “I just need a tiny gape….A tiny, tiny gape.” John spit on her again, pushing his finger in to the second knuckle. Keeping it there, he allowed her to get used to the feeling. When she slowly eased, he rotated in very small, soft circles. “You take my fingers so well.” She hated to admit it felt weird but the good weird. Especially when he pressed on the side of her vagina. John could tell she was warming up from the way she attempted to grind herself against the table. And how she tried to be so discrete in hiding her little moans of pleasure. “You don’t have to feel ashamed about liking something,” he said. “It’s okay. Just enjoy yourself, hm?” He twisted his finger in and out until it moved with ease, and she was no longer pulling him in. When he let his finger slip out, there was a perfect gaping hole. Not big, but tiny and what he’d consider cute. 

John moved in real close, his warm breath tickling her. Poking his tongue out, he swiped up and just over her hole. Gasps and grunts of pleasure filled his ears over the simple motion of him dragging his tongue around until landing a kiss right over it. Her hand instinctively went to touch her clit, but John was quick to push it away and do the work. His forefinger and middle rubbed soft, but effective circles, allowing her to grind down on them. From how good she sounded, he imagined her face; eyes rolled back, mouth open. The sounds that came from her innocent mouth were so feral. It was so pathetic for her to admit that she’d never felt this good despite fucking before. John Shelby knew where to touch, what to do, what to say…. Her lower half was trembling, fighting to keep her posture. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, flicking his tongue in circles around the hole. It was a beautiful pattern, really. He’d circle it with his tongue a good few times; soft, easy, gently. Enjoying his fingers teasing her swollen clit as it clearly pulsed with the need to feel the edge. The poor girl was leaving a mess on the table. Had she even understood the gift she held? To drip so beautifully just by simple touches. 

“P-please,” she gasped, feeling an orgasm approach as she lost the ability to hold in what was then dripping down the table and on the floor. Only her, she had once thought, could allow herself to feel this good. How was she to go back to normal after this? See him on the street or in the shop, and not expect this…. How was this only to be an exception and not all the bloody fucking time. “I’m going to-fuck!” Her eyes rolled back as he took that as an initiative to rub her faster. 

But the pattern. Fucking hell, the pattern was artwork. The way he’d licking over in circles, flicking his tongue all around. That was the part he teased her with the most, knowing so well she anticipated more. Then finally, he’d dip his tongue in the furthest he could, twisting it around. Oh, how she tried to clench it, to keep it in like a cock, afraid he was going somewhere. But he was kind, keeping it there a little longer each time. He ended it with a kiss, moaning against her before starting it all over again. 

She felt her core shake as her body could hardly contain itself. Better than she could ever give herself, an orgasm ripped through her body. Not in slightest worried, she cried out a moan that surely others could hear. But he deserved that because of how good she felt. She rode it out, grinding her body simultaneously against his tongue and fingers, the last of her squirt dripping from her. “Fucking ‘ell,” she panted, collapsing against the table, trying to catch breath. 

He grinned arrogantly to himself before getting up and walking around the table. He crouched down and gently grabbed her face, smiling. “C’mere,” he said, giving her a soft kiss before standing. His hand tapped her cheek. “Thank you for that. I’ll grab the medicine on the way out…Shelby tab.” On the way out, he placed a gentle slap to her ass. “Have a good day, eh?”

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Idle Hands

I'm clearing out my drafts, so please enjoy this super short one shot. I'm not all that happy with this, but I've been working on it for months, and if I kept working on it, it was never going to get posted.

Contains: Historically inaccuracy around coconut oil and rum, fluff, smut (P in V).

933 words

John gets bored on your spa vacation.

When Tommy suggested you and John go to one of those new fandangled spa resorts by the sea to take a break from the rush and smoggy air of Birmingham, you knew it would be a change. What you didn't know was how bored you were going to be, one can only soak in the Grecian pool so much.

When you returned from your spa treatment, John was lying on one of the couches in your room, naked under the towel wrapped around his waist as he read the Birmingham Times, looking disinterested. You walked behind the loveseat and wrapped your arms around his body as he twisted himself to kiss you. He pulled back with a smile and took a deep breath. "You smell like that fancy rum we give to the Toffs at the Eden Club, the one from the Caribbean."

"Yes, I just spent the last hour getting a coconut oil massage." It was nice, but even a trained masseuse had nothing on John's strong, capable hands. You made the short journey around the seat and sat next to him, but he grinned and lifted you onto his lap. "What are you doing?"

His eyes filled with mischief as he placed his hand on your thigh. "I got lonely without you."

His calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh, his trigger finger the roughest as they slowly slid closer to the leg opening of your loose linen shorts. "I'm sorry, Dearest. You could have come with me. They did have a couples option."

He started running his fingertips up and down your leg, from your knee to just inside your shorts and back again, before letting out a sigh. "I'm bored shitless, love. There's nothing to do here."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I can think of a few things."

The way he grinned and tilted his head told you the game was on, and a bulge radially grew in the towel as he pulled you into a kiss. You couldn't decide whether to remove his towel or your shirt, and the room filled with laughter as your hands collided midair in the rush to choose. The towel fell away as the knot came undone, and a moment later, his hands found your bare skin.

He palmed your breasts as his lust filled eyes raked over your body. "You're so fucking beautiful." He pushed himself up and pulled you further onto his lap as his lips found yours with force, his teeth meeting your flesh as his hand moved to your lower back to press you to his hard cock. The kiss turned softer as his other hand made its way to your core.

He smiled into the kiss as his fingers ran through the mess between your legs. He swallowed your moans as he zeroed in on your clit and dug your nails into his ample bicep as your head fell against his chest. He was infuriating sometimes; his need to take his time and enjoy it like he was walking through an interactive art gallery made you far more desperate than you were willing to admit. "John, please, you had your fun this morning, have mercy on me."

His chest rumbled with a chuckle, and you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his plump lower lip as he brought his fingers down to your entrance. Just as you were preparing to protest again, he pulled his fingers away and grabbed his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. "Well, hop on Love." He held himself steady as you slid down and settled into his lap.

You stayed still, adjusting to his size as one of his hands landed on your lower back while the other found your cheek. His fingertips brushed your cheekbone as you started to rock your hips, and his nose bumped yours as affection poured from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest as he took over the pace and you buried your head in his neck as your nerves lit up like the night sky during a bomb run.

He hit his stride, and an inferno followed the path his hand made from your back to your clit as he rubbed it in tight circles while your breath caught in your chest. Your teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder as the sparks of pleasure grew overwhelming while the steady pressure of his cock on your G-spot made your thighs twitch against his firm body.

He was grunting like an animal, snapping his hips up at the end of each stroke to kiss your cervix before pulling out almost all the way and starting again. Your nails dug into his skin and opened your mouth to warn him of your oncoming fall over the edge, but he already knew and took you in a searing kiss as he pushed you over it. Your world spun as you landed on your back and he folded you like a pretzel as used all his leverage to slam into you.

It was so much it almost ached, but just as you were about to try to beg for mercy between desperate breaths, you felt him pulse inside you, and his weight collapsed on top of you while his chest heaved and his hips stuttered with aftershocks. He took a deep breath, and you felt his lips fall all across your face in gentle kisses. "You right, Love?"

You nodded. "I'm great. Are you still bored?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm great too."

Fin

[samdeancass]

His Reaction to Your Boyfriend Cheating on You (Peaky Blinders Preference)

Requested: No.

Characters: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby

_______________________________

Tommy

To say that Tommy is furious would be an understatement. Seeing you crying at the table, completely broken, made his blood boil. With a swift kiss to your forehead, and leaving you in the capable hands of Aunt Poll, Tommy gathered together the rest of the Peaky Blinders, along with your other brothers, and stormed their way to your boyfriends house, where they made him wish that he was never born.

Tommy smiled lightly as he seen your sleeping form when he arrived back. Aunt Poll put a finger to her lips before he slowly walked over, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “Everything’s taken care of now, Y/N. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

Arthur

“Why the fuck did you do it! I want an answer!” You stood across the room from your now ex boyfriend, chest heaving with anger. Your boyfriend just stared at the floor and shrugged. “Just felt like it...” Your face turned an angry red, steam literally coming out of your ears. In a fit of rage, you picked up the nearest object and threw it at his head, narrowly missing him.

“Are you mad?! That nearly hit me!” “That was the fucking point!” At that moment the front door opened and in stepped Arthur, looking puzzled at the scene before him. Whereas, you actually heard your ex gulp as he realized exactly what was going to happen. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Arthur looked at you for an answer but your angry gaze was still on your ex. “Him. He cheated on me with that slut down the road. He said that he just felt like it, not giving two shits about me!”

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he pulled out his gun, aiming it at your ex’s head, and shot him dead between the eyes. “That’s what happens when you mess with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”

John

John walked up to your bedroom door and went to open it but stopped in his tracks when he heard muffled sobs coming from inside. “Y/N, sweetheart, can I come in?” Hearing a muffled reply, he opened the door and made his way to your side, picking you up and cradling you. “What’s the matter?” “He-he cheated on me. Said I was no good, said I wasn’t worth anything, that he found someone better.”

You began sobbing again and it broke John’s heart hearing his little sister cry. He kissed the top of your head and lay you back down gently, secretly seething with anger. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m coming right back, I just need to teach him a lesson. Nobody makes my sister cry, not without consequences.” 

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Study buddies 8 *Re-upload

Graduations and Golden rings

The Shelby’s were having a small get together at their home and shop for John and Martha.

No one had been surprised that Martha had graduated with honors even. John had managed to leave school with an impressive grade for himself, thanks to his tutoring of course from Martha.

The family gathered around the table for a small bite and to congratulate the couple for making it through.

“You okay Bab’s, you look a little green.” John smoothed Martha's hair back and tenderly tucked in behind her ear.

“Yeah, nothing is sitting with me lately.” She said offhandedly as she sipped her peppermint tea Polly had offered her.

“What?” John had been watching the exchange between Polly and Tommy for a minute or two. Tommy was grinning and making some interesting gestures.

Polly looked ready to kill.

“Martha, let me see your tea leaves, love.” Polly approached the confused little blonde woman and swirled the cup. She walked over to Tommy and waited.

Martha shrugged at John, he looked worried. Polly nudged Tom rather gently with her elbow. He glanced at the mug and grinned along with her.

Tommy walked over to his confused brother, irritation building on the younger man's face.

“We’ll John, you were always the impatient one, yeah, had to be the first to win a race, learn how to shoot a revolver and get married, eh?” Tommy held on to his brother's shoulders and squeezed. Arthur slammed his bread down and grumbled.

“What, no ..I didn’t…we…are you?” John looked at Martha confused. Polly was never wrong about these things.

“It was one time I swear.” John yelled and looked around the room at mostly amused faces.

“What are we talking about? Who’s getting married?” She asked, her voice raising in pitch.

“You and John love, congratulations, how long has it been? Since your last bleed?” Polly’s smile was broad and all knew. Tommy smacked John on the back and walked into the shop shaking his head laughing. They’d called it.

_____________THE END____________

[peakyblinders1919]

i saw that you were asking for some dad requests and i was thinking maybe dad!john just being domestic with his kids and wife

“Daddy home!”

You were quite used to the incoherent babbles of your youngest, if not on your hip then she was always close by. Currently, she was in the high chair smearing some kind of berry puree over her face, your back to her as you slaved over the sauce for dinner. It was harder work than you remembered, actually, it had always been hard work, at one point in time you were just more used to it. Part of you, the part that was a bit sweaty from the heat of the burner, or maybe the part that could only mumble at Lucy’s words, not giving her your proper attention, it was those parts combined that made you regret dismissing the cook and the maid earlier this week. It was just easy to keep your mind busy when you literally had your hands full.

“I told you sweetheart, Daddy will be home soon. Not too long now, four more days.” You weren’t ashamed to admit to counting down the days until your husband’s return, not to the 2 year-old at least. Some of the others were old enough to know, and everyone in the household was old enough now to miss John when he was away on these “required” trips. You suggested the others play outside, figuring the sun and the distraction would do them all some good. Which it did, taking a peak out the window about the sink to see George, Peter, and William chasing after their big sister through the fields to the side of the house. The only bad thing about your motherly suggestion was that it left the house quiet. 

Too quiet. 

You were glad for Lucy’s babblings, however incoherent.

“Daddy home! Daddy home! See Daddy.”

“Yes baby, soon.”

“Not soon enough, aye?” It was the familiar smell of tobacco that made you stop in your tracks, but it was the Brummie accent that nearly brought happy tears to your eyes before even trying towards the door. The kids’ giggled with excitement by his side, nearly hanging on him, more excited to see him than you were.

“John Shelby, what is the meaning of this?” Shock, excitement, and faux annoyance folded onto your features, hands on your hips as you looked at him. Though, the longer you looked at him, the quicker you wanted him in your space again, breathing your air, taking it away from you in the style of a kiss.

“Can’t a man surprise his wife and family?” His voice reflected your annoyance, though his was rooted in his surprise not being appreciated when it was far from the truth.

You thought about hitting him with a quick-witted quip, but decided better of it, not wanting your first time in two weeks being make-up sex.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, walking towards him and finally settling against him, feeling every ounce of tension leave you when his arms wrapped strongly around your frame. “You can surprise us any day.” A kiss to your temple his only reply until you finally unburied your head from his chest so he could kiss you properly. 

All the kids cringed. All for Lucy, who clapped and holster, proud of herself for announcing his return. 

So much time and yet so little had passed, but John missed you. Missed you more than you could know, though you had the slightest suspicion because of the way he looked at you when he stepped in, and the way he continued looking at you now. Eyes dark with lust and desire and hunger for you and only you.

“Daaaaadd…” Katie whined, pulling at his arm for some of his attention.

It was hard for him to take his eyes off you.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “speaking of surprises. You lot didn’t think Dad’d come ‘one empty handed, did ya?”

The next few minutes we’re like Christmas- special candies for the boys, a silk skirt for Katie, a pair of booties for Lucy, “and yours you’ll have to wait to use in the bedroom later,” he whispered in your ear. Slapping his chest, though his humor might not have been missed, or his inappropriate innuendos, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You couldn’t resist kissing him again, his lips tasting even better than you imagined, better than you remembered. You lost yourself in his lips, their softness, their gentleness, the way they knew exactly when to push and yours pull and vice versa, moving in synchronicity that can only be due to years of exploring each other. You only knew you’d both gotten over zealous when the kids began their teasingly disgusted sounds, and it wasn’t due to the candy they’d devoured.

“Well, now that Dad’s back, it’s his turn to tuck everyone in and read them to bed,” you declared with a devilish grin his way, the kids cheering, practically racing upstairs to change into their nightgowns. Your stories just weren’t as interesting (which also meant they were more effective at sending them to sleep). 

“And while you do that, I’ll be in our room… unwrapping that present of yours. I think I have a little surprise of my own for you.”

And you swore you’d never seen John Shelby blush, not that you could remember anyway.

[zkvry]

Drunk at 7AM | John Shelby x GN!Reader

Summary : You find John drinking alone in the Garrison at the break of dawn and you knock some sense into him.

Warnings : cussing, consumption of alcohol

Additional Information : > no spoilers > written in second person > gender neutral reader > 799 words | 4 mins

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

From the car seat, your arms grab hold onto a crate full of glass bottles. Leaning back slightly to support the heavy weight, you walk briskly towards the grand doors of the Garrison. The sky was dull and grey, the sun barely peaking onto the horizon. The icy wind bites the skin on your hands, stiffening and numbing your fingers as they clutch on the ridges of the said crate.

Reaching the doors, you prop up a knee and rest the crate on it with a steady hand. Holding it close to your hip, you reach into the pockets of your coat to find the keys. The metal keys jingle in your grasp as you hold up one in particular to unlock the door, only to find it unlocked and a tad bit ajar. *Did you forget to lock up?* Panic sets in. You use your back to push the doors open, settling the crate on a nearby table. Your eyes scan the bar, the drinks and furniture seemed to be where they were the night before. That is, until your eyes landed on a familiar figure at a corner.

"John?" your voice calls out, eyes squinting to get a better look. "That you?" you say again. A rough grunt answered your question. You close the distance between between the both of you. You see John Shelby hunched over at a corner of the bar, an empty glass at hand. A bottle of whiskey stood tall in front of him, a third of the liquid already gone. His head hung low and his hair a mess with parts of it sticking out from the hardened pomade.

You walk towards him slowly whilst rubbing your hands together for warmth. "It's seven in the bloody morning, John. What are you doing with a full bottle of the Garrison's whiskey, huh?" You snatched the bottle away.

"Mind ya business. Oi, what 're ya think you're doing wit' that bott'l? Give me that!" John straightens up and extends his arm, trying to grab the bottle from you. He almost trips, holding onto the bar table for support.

A sigh escapes your lips and you grab another glass from behind the counter. You pour yourself a drink and filled John's glass too. You closed the bottle tightly and placed it back to where it belonged. Waiting patiently, you sip on the whiskey and rest your arms on the table.

John looks at you and clears his throat. He knew he wouldn't be able to walk away from this confrontation. He sighs and grabs his glass, downing the contents in one gulp. "The kids got me runnin' 'round all night. Not a wink of sleep," He says with an exasperated tone, rubbing his red eyes.

You look at him with pity. Later on in the morning, the gambling den will open to welcome another round of bets. John usually took care of the receipts and customers, rounding them up in a straight line as he took note of their payments. Without sleep, you knew he'd be way too out of his head.

Taking the matter into your own hands, you hand him the remaining contents of your drink. "Have the day off. I'll deal with it," You tell him, already formulating a plan. John waves his hand with reluctance and shakes his head aggressively, causing him to be even more giddy.

"N-no, I can't do 'that. Tommy will shoot my head off," John argues, standing up from his seat with shaky movements as he grabs his wrinkled coat from his chair.

"Oh shut up. Your head doesn't look like it's with you at this moment anyway," You tell him in a joking manner. You move to put his arms over your shoulder and walk towards the family car. Even in his drunken state, John doesn't rest his full weight on you and tried his best to walk alongside with your guidance. He leans on the window as you lock the Garrison from the outside.

Grabbing a hold on him again, you reach the door handles of the car. You open the passenger side and shove him in. "Ow!" He remarks, holding the side of his head.

"Oh shit! sorry," You laugh quietly at your carelessness.

You sat at the driver's seat and turn on the engine, driving to the Shelby residence. John sleeps soundlessly beside you with the exhaustion finally washing down on him. The car stops in front of the house and you turn to wake him but thought twice about waking him from his slumber. Instead, the car accelerates at a steady pace and you drove around town as he catches some shut-eye.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[wonderlanddreamer]

[1925] The Shelby-Lee Residence.

When Luca Changretta sent the Italians to ambush John Shelby, he didn’t count on somebody being there to give him a heads up. [Season 4 - Episode 1]

[Part of The Lydia Saga]

The road stretched long and endless beneath the pale, overcast sky, the only sound the steady hum of the engine as Michael drove through the desolate countryside. The landscape rolled by in muted colours, fields of green and brown passing like a sombre painting under the diffused daylight. Lydia Shelby huddled in the backseat, her small frame pressed against the cold, unyielding leather. The thick coat wrapped around her did little to stave off the chill that seemed to seep into her bones. She felt almost invisible, a ghost in the back of Michael's car, her presence concealed beneath layers of fabric and shadows.

She knew she shouldn’t be there, and the thought of Tommy's inevitable fury sent a shiver down her spine. His temper was legendary, and she could already picture the storm in his eyes when he found out shehimd done.

Tommy had insisted she stay with him and Charlie at Arrow House, a fortress meant to keep her safe. Yet even when he was there, he wasn't truly present. His gaze was distant, clouded by the weight of business and burdens that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. She missed the warmth of family—the laughter, the chaos, the love. She missed John and Esme, and her nieces and nephews, the vibrant tapestry of life that they wove together.

When whispers of the black hand began to circulate, a sinister omen of danger lurking in the shadows, Lydia saw her opportunity. Michael had dropped off Ada and Polly with her, Charlie and Tommy at Charlie's yard, and in a moment of daring, she had seized her chance. Slipping into Michael's car, she curled herself into the floor, making herself as small and silent as possible. By the time Michael realized she was with him, they were already miles away, the city skyline fading into the distance.

“Jesus Christ, Lydia,” he had hissed, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration, barely sparing her a glance as he gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity. “You snuck into my fucking car?”

Lydia met his gaze with defiance, lifting her chin. “I wanted to see John.”

Michael muttered something under his breath, shaking his head in exasperation. “Tommy’s gonna kill me, you know that?”

But there was no turning back. The Italians were coming, a relentless tide of danger that threatened to sweep away everything and everyone. Michael's priority was clear: he had to get John, Esme, and the kids back with the rest of the family before it was too late.

The moment they pulled up to John's house, a warmth spread through Lydia's chest, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile atmosphere of Arrow House. Here, the light spilled generously from the windows, casting a welcoming glow that cut through the dreary day. The sound of Esme’s laughter floated through the air, mixing with the lively chatter and clatter from within, creating a symphony of life that Lydia had sorely missed. This place was chaotic, alive, and undeniably real—a home.

John stood outside, a solid figure near the porch, arms crossed as he watched the car approach. His sharp gaze flickered past Michael, dismissing him momentarily, and landed on the small figure emerging from the backseat. His entire posture shifted from casual observation to alert surprise.

"Lydia?"

His voice was different, stripped of its usual teasing and cocky edge, replaced by genuine surprise. He stepped forward, brows furrowing in confusion. "What the fuck—?" His eyes darted to Michael, suspicion and disbelief evident. “You brought her?”

Michael groaned, the sound heavy with exasperation, as he rubbed a hand down his face. "She snuck into the car, John. I didn’t even realize she was there ‘til halfway through."

John’s expression darkened slightly, his grip tightening on his sleeves as if to suppress a rising wave of frustration. He looked down at Lydia, his blue eyes searching hers for some explanation or reassurance. "What the fuck were you thinkin’, eh?" His voice wasn’t angry, not really. It was more exasperated, a mixture of concern and disbelief. “Sneakin’ off to come here?”

Lydia lifted her chin, trying to maintain a facade of defiance. “I wanted to see you.”

For a moment, John just stared at her, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leaned down to her level, his hands resting gently on her arms. “Jesus, Lyds.” He shook his head, his expression softening just slightly, revealing the depth of his worry. “You can’t be doin’ that. It ain't safe.”

She looked away, guilt threading through her bravado, settling like a weight in her chest. But before John could say anything more, Michael cleared his throat, injecting urgency into the moment.

"You need to come with us to Charlie's yard," Michael said, his voice tight with urgency. “You, Esme, the kids. Get in the car, alright? We need to go.”

John let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head as he straightened to his full height. "Oh, fuck off, Michael—"

Michael cut him off, stepping closer. "This isn't a joke, John. This is the Italian fuckin' mafia."

John scoffed, folding his arms, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You seriously came all this way just to tell me to run?" His eyes narrowed, challenging. "I ain't runnin', Michael."

Michael’s patience snapped, his frustration boiling over. "It’s not just you, John! You wanna play the tough bastard, fine, but what about Esme? The kids? You gonna let them get caught up in this just because you’re too fucking stubborn?"

The tension was thick, hanging in the air like a storm ready to break.

Lydia, standing a few feet away, glanced between them. She knew how John was—proud, fearless, sometimes to a fault. But she also saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched slightly at his sides, betraying the conflict within him.

Just then, Esme stepped onto the porch, her presence a sudden force of nature, and suddenly, there were three voices battling for dominance on the front porch.

But Lydia wasn’t listening anymore.

Her gaze had drifted past them, beyond the house, beyond the escalating argument that seemed to grow more distant with each second. The world around her faded into a blur of sounds, leaving her alone with the chill creeping up her spine.

Something was moving in the treeline.

A flicker of darkness, barely discernible, shifting against the backdrop of the sky like shadows playing tricks on the mind.

Lydia's chest tightened, a vice-like grip squeezing the air from her lungs.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a relentless drumbeat that drowned out everything else.

At first, she thought maybe it was nothing. Just shadows in the distance. A trick of the eyes. But then—

A glint of metal, catching the faint light like a beacon of danger.

A silhouette lowered into a crouch, blending into the underbrush with practised ease.

Her stomach dropped, a cold dread pooling in the pit of her gut.

Guns.

They had guns.

Her breath caught in her throat, panic clawing its way up her ribs, freezing her in place. For a moment, she couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. She tried to tell herself she was wrong, that she wasn’t seeing what she thought she was, but then—

Another shift. More figures emerging from the shadows, their movements deliberate and coordinated.

Too many of them.

A warning screamed in her head, but her voice wouldn’t come, trapped behind the fear constricting her throat.

Move. Say something. Do something.

Then, something snapped inside her.

“John!”

Her voice cracked, raw and desperate, cutting through the air like a lifeline thrown amidst chaos.

John’s head turned sharply toward her, his brows pulling together in confusion and alarm.

Lydia’s breathing was ragged, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She pointed wildly toward the trees. "They’re here! They—they’ve got guns!"

The world erupted into chaos.

A gunshot cracked through the air, a deafening sound that shattered the fragile calm.

The first bullet hit the wooden fencepost inches from where John had been standing, sending splinters flying.

John had moved, instinct kicking in, adrenaline surging through his veins. He lunged for the shotgun propped against the house. “Fucking bastards—”

Another shot whistled past, splintering the car, shards of metal and glass scattering like lethal confetti.

Michael cursed, his movements swift and decisive as he grabbed Lydia by the coat, shoving her behind him with urgency.

“Get down!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire.

Esme screamed, the sound piercing and filled with terror as she bolted toward the house, her bare feet pounding against the ground in a desperate bid to reach her children, while bullets rained down around them, turning their home into a battleground.

John stepped in front of Lydia, his frame a solid barrier between her and the chaos unfolding before them. The air was thick with tension, every sound amplified by the adrenaline coursing through their veins. He fired back, his stance firm, his focus unyielding. "Stay behind me!" he shouted over the gunfire, his voice rough and commanding, cutting through the chaos like a lifeline.

Lydia trembled, her ears ringing with each explosive crack of gunfire that seemed to reverberate through her very bones. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the urgency of the situation.

The Italians had planned an ambush. Their movements were calculated and precise, a deadly dance intended to catch John off guard and eliminate him swiftly.

But they hadn’t expected her.

John fired again, the muzzle flash briefly illuminating his determined expression as he dropped one of the bastards where he stood. "Michael, left—now!" he barked, his voice urgent, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Michael barely hesitated, his body moving with agility. He swung to the left, his breath sharp and ragged as he took down another assailant with a precision born of necessity.

But as he moved, a shot rang out—a sharp, piercing crack that seemed to slice through the night. Michael staggered, a look of shock and pain flashing across his face. He clutched his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staining the fabric of his shirt a dark, ominous red.

Lydia watched, frozen in place, as John reloaded—his jaw clenched, his shoulders squared, his hands steady despite the chaos surrounding them.

Her brother. A fighter. Even in the face of danger, he stood his ground, unwavering.

By the time the last shot faded into silence, the echoes lingering like a haunting reminder of what had transpired, bodies lay in the dirt, what once was peace now forever marked by violence.

Michael exhaled sharply, his breath ragged as he pressed a hand to his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. “Jesus fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained yet laced with relief. Esme rushed out with rags in her hands, kneeling to press them against his wound.

John turned, his eyes scanning the aftermath before they landed on Lydia. His face was tense but softened slightly at the sight of her, a momentary reprieve amidst the chaos. He crouched, his hands gripping her arms gently, grounding her in the reality of the moment.

"You saw ‘em comin’," he murmured, a mix of gratitude and disbelief colouring his words.

Lydia, still shaking, nodded, tears threatening to spill over as relief and fear collided within her.

John let out a breath, pulling her into his chest, his embrace warm and reassuring. "You saved us, Lyds," he whispered into her hair, the weight of his words settling over them both.

Lydia clung to him, her fingers curling into his coat, desperate to hold onto this moment, this proof that they had survived.

She knew that the war wasn’t over, that the threat still lingered, a shadow over their lives.

But tonight, John Shelby was still standing, and for now, that was enough.

[runnning-outof-time]

Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Wasn’t Expecting You

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 707

Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.

“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.

“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”

“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.

“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”

(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.

“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.

“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.

“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.

“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.

(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.

Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.

“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”

Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.

Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.

“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.

“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.

“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.

“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.

“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.

“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.

*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[zablife]

An Unexpected Family Gathering w/ John

John Shelby x female reader

A/N: Reconnecting or an Unexpected family gathering, requested by @runnning-outof-time. Details of the reader's relationship with dark!John requested by a lovely anon. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Divider credit: @wethairjoel

Warnings: coercion, threat with a weapon, mention of poisoning Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

Your infatuation with John began before the war, cautious glances at his handsome features and girlish giggles behind your hands. He paid you no attention in those early days, too infatuated with his sweetheart, Martha. However, that didn't deter you from finding other ways to grow close to him.

It was Tommy who first recognized your potential as a messenger for the family business. No matter the danger, you always accepted, hoping John would hear of your bravery. If there was one thing you possessed over Martha, it was your fearless attitude.

During the war years you continued to help the family as much as possible. You prayed with Polly each morning for the three men away fighting and later for Martha's ailing health. When the time came, you took on the care of John's young children with nothing but love and devotion in your heart.

By the time the men returned from war, you were a permanent fixture at 57 Watery Lane, waiting for the day John would make you his wife. While he hadn't returned quite the same carefree young man you remembered, his bright blue eyes still held a spark of mischievous charm which made you hopeful.

You couldn't say that of his brothers, especially Tommy who began making aggressive moves to control more and more of the city. Within a few months of assuming leadership, Tommy was waging war against the Italians in a bid for power. Ruthless attacks were carried out by his men, cuttings and beatings becoming standard procedure.

The thought of John taking someone's eyes with a razor blade made you physically ill, but nothing compared to the callous way he presented his plan to cut Angel Changretta's throat as he lie helpless in a hospital bed. That's when you knew you'd heard enough.

Small Heath was no longer the place you wished to call home and you began planning an escape from its treacherous depths. However, John was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out fear. He sensed the change in you immediately and took the opportunity to question your loyalty in the worst way imaginable.

"I want you to invite Mrs. Changretta for tea at your parents' on Thursday," he casually mentioned as you were getting ready for bed one night.

"Why?" you asked, trying to keep your voice from trembling.

"Cos Tommy said," he gestured vaguely as if to say, If I haven't questioned him, neither should you.

You had the sinking feeling you were luring Mrs. Changretta into blinder territory for nefarious reasons and you quickly worked to appeal to your fiance. "She was our teacher in school, John. A kind, decent woman."

"Then she'll go to heaven, yeah?" he answered, brow furrowing in irritation.

Your heart lurched as you realized the Shelbys were going to kill her. Approaching John gently, you ran a hand across his cheek in hopes of bringing back the kind boy you remembered.

"You don't have to do this. You're not like Tommy, you know. I don't see the same thing in your eyes I see in his," you uttered as you pressed your forehead to his lightly.

Pulling away from your warm embrace, John's blue eyes iced over in a way you'd never witnessed. Grabbing your wrist in a brutal hold to show his determination, he spat, "Tommy puts a bloody roof over our heads or have you forgotten?"

You shook your head slowly, words failing you.

"So you'll do as he fucking says!" John spat, tossing your hand away.

You watched him storm downstairs and grab his coat, deciding to go for a drink instead. Looking back on that moment, you wished you'd run from him when you had the chance, but you didn't have the heart to abandon his children. So you stayed, agreeing to his plan if only to secretly warn Mrs. Changretta of the impending danger.

On the day of her social call, you tucked a small note into the sleeve of your blouse, ready to slip it to her at the soonest opportunity. Your anxious hands trembled when you began to arrange the scones Polly had brought earlier in the day, hoping your nerves didn't show.

Seeing Mrs. Changretta's kind face again soothed you immeasurably. She smiled up at you with the same warmth in her eyes you remembered from your school days and suddenly the memories of your youth came flooding back to you.

Noticing your eyes fill with tears, she asked innocently, "What is it dear?"

Turning your head to swipe a tear from your cheek, you relayed the tender memory of the times she brought you sweets.

"Those were good times," she acknowledged sadly. "Before the lads fell into the hands of the devil."

You took her hands in yours, seizing the moment to place the note to her palm. "It doesn't have to be this way," you whispered, giving her a small squeeze before relinquishing the paper to her grasp. The rest of the visit was carefully monitored by Tommy's soldiers and you didn't dare reach for her again.

That night you woke with John pressing the cold barrel of a gun into your side. Fueled by his outrage and the snow Isaiah had been supplying, he demanded you wake. "I know what you did, Y/n," he whispered as he pressed the weapon just below your ribs.

You gulped as you wondered what he would do to you, his jarring laughter making you afraid to move or even breath beneath his touch.

"The old cunt fell over dead from Polly's scones," he informed you cruelly. "So you see, your little warning was useless." His lip curled into a menacing sneer as he watched your face crumble in despair.

"No!" you cried. "I didn't mean to..."

"But you did," he answered in a mocking tone, releasing the safety with a harsh click.

"John, please," you begged as he began to stroke your arm with a gentle touch that belied the venom in his serpent like hiss.

“You’re so pretty. I couldn’t shoot you.” Cold steel meeting your temple he ghosted the weapon down your jawline as he whispered, “No, I’m not gonna kill you.”

His torture seemed endless as he kept you awake into the early morning hours. Amazed that you were still alive to see the dawn, you pleaded with the man who'd promised to love you forever.

"Let me go, John. Please let me see my family," you begged.

"You will, sweetheart," he promised, knowing the punishment Tommy had devised for you. You would be reunited with your parents on the gallows soon after the arrests for the murder of Audrey Changretta.

Tag List:

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[darklydeliciousdesires]

John Shelby Vs. Breakfast - A John Shelby/Reader Short.

I haven't written for any of my Peaky lads in a hot minute, so I thought I'd do a little fun, fluffy piece for my fave ginge <3 Enjoy!

Words - 792

Warnings - None, just John being John!

Clattering. Swearing. Burnt toast. Those are what greet you after descending the stairs, coming into the kitchen to see perhaps the most unnatural sight in the world; John cooking. Or rather attempting to.  

“Bastard, bloody thing!” Yes, the cast iron pan handle heats up while cooking eggs and bacon in it, not that he’d realise, being a man. Naturally, he’s had a woman perform these tasks for him all his life, so why would he know that? “Oh, shit, shit, shit, not again!”  

At least this time when he reaches for hot metal, he has the sense to cover the end of the toasting fork with a kitchen towel, pulling the slices of bread from in front of the fire. “Fuckin’ hell!” 

You stand and watch it, the sexy, ginger ball of stress whirling like an agitated tornado around the space, John much too predisposed by messing up the preparation of breakfast to notice you there, his entertained audience of one.  

“Alright, I can save that. Scrape the burnt bit off. Right, kettle’s almost done. Sodding hell! How the fuck do women do this and make it look so bloody easy?” 

“Because we’re magicians,” you finally speak, watching him jump before he spins around, pointing at you through the chaos of his own making. 

“You should be in bed, still!”  

Shrugging, you approach, stroking his bare forearms, his sleeves all rolled up. “I was wide awake, so I thought I’d get up.”  

He bustles, waving his arms. “No, no. Ain’t supposed to be like this. I had a plan! Bring you breakfast in bed and now it’s all bloody going wrong!” 

Casting your gaze over his shoulder, your eyebrow flutters upwards. “I don’t think that has anything to do with me coming down the stairs, John. The pan is smoking, by the way.”  

His face falls. “Fuckin’ hell!”  

“Do you want a hand?” you offer, watching him move it from atop the range, scraping the slightly overdone eggs and bacon out onto two plates. 

He waves his hand towards the table. “No, you sit down.” 

“I can do the teapot, at least?” 

More hand gestures are directed. “Sit down, bab!”  

He’s adamant to do this, so tucking your dress, you take a seat, picking up the morning paper as he butters the toast. Finishing plating up the breakfast and pouring the tea, he brings it to you, everything a little crispy and haphazardly presented, your new husband looking at you from under a few furrowed brow.  

“Don’t look nothing like when you make it, but I hope it tastes alright, at least.” 

Digging your fork in, you take a first mouthful. “It’s lovely, darling. Thank you. What made you want to cook for me in the first place, though? You always denounce it as woman’s work. Not that you should. We’re in the twenties now, us women are to have our equality.” 

“Oh, not you an’ all!” he groans, rolling his eyes. “You and bloody Pol and your women’s lib!” His little wink indicates he isn’t a hundred percent serious, picking up a slice of toast and taking a huge bite, crumbs collecting at the corners of his lips. “And I did it because I wanna make amends. Ain’t proper that we’re married and I can’t take you on honeymoon. Nah. Even a weekend up the seaside would have been nice. Got all this fuckin’ shit round me neck, though.” 

Indeed, he has. You know well who you married, and the life of a prolific gangster is seldom easy. Or, in this case, flexible enough to allow for time away from Birmingham with his new bride.  

Reaching for his hand, you stroke the freckled flesh, cocking your head. “You’ve no amends here to make, love. I know, I understand. It is what it is.” 

“Yeah, but it bloody shouldn’t be, cos’ you deserve more!” he fumes, forehead creasing. “And I can’t give it to ya right now. Feel like a right bloody joke of a husband, I do.” 

“You know what you can give me, though?” you tease, John not immediately picking up on the connotations. “A bloody good seeing to.” 

He pauses his chewing, an eyebrow arching. “Get that scran down your neck sharpish, bab. I might not be able to take you away even for a weekend, but I can take you to bed instead.”  

To be honest, is seeing a lot of time pressed against a mattress beneath your new husband not the point of a honeymoon? You’ve always thought so, at least, therefore it matters not where that mattress happens to be. Whether further afield or Birmingham, as long as John is there, it’s all the honeymoon you need.  

A slightly cremated breakfast is an added bonus, too.  

[novashelby]

"You Don't Have to Get So Flustered"-John Shelby x Reader

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Word Count: 204 Warnings: None, really...just postpartum pain, maybe? Prompt Inspiration Summary: John takes care of his wife after childbirth

Thank you, anon for playing. I hope you see this and like it. Send me a note in my inbox to let me know. :)

“You don’t have to get so flustered,” John said. He picked up the sponge and squeezed out the excess water, the soap bubbling around his fingers. She whined as he scrubbed at her back. She’d just given birth two short weeks earlier. John couldn’t figure why she was so embarrassed about him tending to her body or even as much as looking at her. He chuckled, tilting her chin up to look at him. His hand gently caressed her cheek, his thumb pressing against her bottom lip. “I mean, you look cute when you blush and get all shy, but I wish you wouldn’t.”

She sighed, averting her eyes. “It’s humiliating for you to see me so…so-”

“Sore because you gave me a child? Okay, alright, stubborn,” he said, continuing to wash her body. “All I am saying is, this isn’t the first time I have seen you on the mend-”

“Helpless,” she mumbled, picking at her nails.

“Perhaps,” he joked, rolling his eyes. “Maybe even very helpless-hey!” John laughed, dodging the water from the tub that she splashed up at his face. “I’m only joking-”

“Ass,” she retorted, flicking up at his cheek, but nonetheless she relaxed, allowing him to tend to her.