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bluewxrld07 · 8 months

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You Da One

This is PART 2 to the instagram AU for She's All I Wanna Be (Trevor Zegras)!! Have fun seeing who she winds up with ;) I wrote this while listening to You Da One by Rihanna so enjoy this as much as I enjoyed making it!!

Warning(s): none

yourusername just posted a photo!

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yourusername wait this isn't a hockey game...?

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yourbff It most certainly is not 😏

tatemcrae 👀

user1 oh??? What's happening yourbff and tatemcrae???

user2 I need the FBI agents in here to do their digging FAST

jackhughes I was not expecting THAT when I answered the phone

user4 WHAT'RE WE MISSING????!

yourbff just posted a photo!

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yourbff Yay sports!!

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user1: Is that where I think it is....

user2: Y'all I'm so lost what's happening

yourusername can't wait till next time 😝

jackhughes oh we are so there next time yourusername yourusername 'We' as in you and who? jackhughes jackhughes 'We' as in the whole crew yourusername Oh boy

user3 Y'ALL SHE WAS IN CINCINNATI WATCHING THE BENGALS

user4 Her and yourbff were sitting right in front of my mom and I, they were so sweet!

*liked by yourusername, yourbff*

user5 Anybody else catching onto y/n saying 'next time'??? sus?????

yourusername just posted a photo!

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yourusername You are the one that I think about always

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celebrityweekly NEW POSSIBLE COUPLE ALERT??!!

Hold onto your seats everyone, because this one is gonna be a ride!!!

Well-known gym influencer and heavy lifter, y/n l/n, was seen with her best friend, y/bff/n, recently in Cincinnati, Ohio at a Bengals NFL Game!!! That's not the best part... some sources who had been at said game had admitted to seeing the famous influencer LEAVING with FAMOUS BENGALS QUARTERBACK JOE BURROW!!!! Some said the two seemed to be quite cozy, more sources sending in these recent pictures during y/n's time in Cincy getting nice and close with the Quarterback!

Click the link in our bio to read more!!!!

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user1 ohhhh TEAAAAAA

user2 If this isn't a major kick to the nuts for Trevor idk what is lmfao

user3 OH I just KNOW Trev's kicking and punching air rn

user4 this took an unexpected turn of events

user5 NOT HER BFF AND COLE LIKING THIS POST LMFAO

user6 She deserves a guy like Burrow, I hope this is true!!!

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yourusername you got me smiling' all the time :)

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user1 I wonder who she's talking about in this oop-

tatemcrae So happy to see you happy

yourbff aye yo bro who got you smiling' like that like..?!

yourusername You bro 😘 yourbff Damn right bae 😚

jackhughes The fact you're smiling with teeth for a photo proves my point in the gc

yourusername I do smile!! We're not having this argument again l_hughes03 he's got a point tho yourusername yourusername *quietly unadds Luke from gc* l_hughes03 It's not quiet when you're announcing it on your ig colecaufield when did we decided to leave the gc and start this in her comments?? Why wasn't I informed? yourusername because this is NOT happening in my comments jackhughes Who's your little crush that got smiling with teeth y/n/n?? yourusername yourusername like I said earlier, it's yourbff yourbff exactly jackhughes

user2 we ALLLLL know that it isn't yourbff who is making you smile like that

*liked by jackhughes*

user3 I think we all know it's a certain guy you've been seeing miss y/n

*liked by jackhughes*

joeyb_9 just posted a photo!

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joeyb_9 Hawkeye

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user1 He's so fine like hello

lahjay10_ Man's got game on and off the field 🤩

user2 Ja'maar really hinting at Joe's thing with yourusername has me dead lmao

user3 If this mans isn't with yourusername I might actually start a riot

user4 I think there's more updates saying she's in Cincy for their game on Sunday!!!

yourbff Stop hogging

joeyb_9 No hogging over here

jackhughes I can't argue with this one

jackhughes just posted a photo!

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jackhughes We're missing one because she was too cool to hang

tagged: yourbff, l_hughes03, colecaufield, yourusername

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user1 JACK CALLING HER OUT FOR BEING IN CINCY RN IM DEAD

colecaufield definitely didn't fly out here JUST to see yourusername

l_hughes03 definitely didn't make a fort in the living room JUST for yourusername to sleep in

yourbff definitely didn't save subs from the best deli on the corner for yourusername

yourusername You're all such drama queens

colecaufield nope just a little heartbroken is all 🥲

*liked by jackhughes, l_hughes03, yourbff*

user2 Something's cooked here lmfao

user3 What's funny is seeing Trevor like posts from time to time. we know he lurkin'

trevorzegras just posted a photo!

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trevorzegras My one and only

tagged: dixiedamelio

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user1 y'all I think he misses y/n lmao

user2 Tell us you secretly miss yourusername without actually telling us 💀

dixiedamelio Always been me 😍

user3 maaaan she thought she ate with that comment

user4 gimme that plate dixiedamelio because you DID NOT EAT

*liked by yourbff*

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, tatemcrae, joeyb_9, lahjay10_, jackhughes and 3,469,998 others

yourusername You are the one that I dream about all day

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yourbff Whose house is that??? 👀

lahjay10_ I agree, whose house is it? Looks familiar... * liked by yourbff*

colecaufield I cannot wait to see what the hype is all about

jackhughes Answer the gc yourusername I KNOW you not sleeping

yourusername 😚 jackhughes

user1 I love how Ja'maar got in on this lmfao, there's not backing out of this now

user2 Girly admit it... you are with the finest and best QB in the league

user3 Oh she's definitely bagged this guy

user4I cannot wait to meet you at the tailgate! Where can I find you at?

yourusername Find me by the pong table tournament!! ☺️

yourbff fr tho, your fit is gonna slay gf

*liked by yourusername*

colecaufield just posted a photo!

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colecaufield spotted a rare y/n sighting by the beer pong

tagged: yourusername

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user1 Did anyone else meet her????

user2 I did, I ran into her by the drinks table! She's so sweet and actually so much prettier in real life omfg

*liked by yourusername*

jackhughes Leave it to Cole to sprint towards the beer pong to tackle y/n

yourusername Y'all could've warned me, I'm in heels colecaufield There was no time, I'm too fast 😎 yourbff and too short to point out in the crowd colecaufield I'm blocking you I swear yourbff l_hughes03 She's not wrong. Had to put her on my shoulders to find you colecaufield colecaufield I regret being friends with any of you

yourbff just posted a photo!

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yourbff Sorry to the people below us who had to deal with our screams

tagged: yourusername, tatemcrae

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tatemcrae It's a lifestyle now ok

yourusername it's law

jackhughes I've never seen this type of energy at our games from any of you🤔

yourbff It's different jackhughes

colecaufield hmmm different how may I ask? 😏

tatemcrae That's a y/n question yourusername That's not a y/n question

user1 This friend group joining the NFL friend group is what I'm striving to see

user2 Trevor wishing y/n got like this for him rn

user3 I just know he's having so many regrets lmfao

yourusername just posted a photo!

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yourusername My love is your love, your love is my love

tagged: joeyb_9

user had limited comments on this post

yourbff So proud you found your lobster 💜

jackhughes you deserve that happiness you searched so long for y/n/n

colecaufield And I thought jackhughes was tall...

l_hughes03 go off y/n!!

trevorzegras I miss you

joeyb_9 just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, lahjay10_, samhubbard, loganwilson, yourbff and 10,894,902 others

joeyb_9 My love is your love, your love is mine

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ghostking4m · 6 months

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Male readers exist

So this is mostly for the hockey and sports world writers, I don’t mean to be mean or make anyone uncomfortable when I say this, but male readers exist too. Believe i’ve tried writing for male readers, but, I don’t have the talent or even time and energy to write for male readers at my current stage in life. I just want to request that more writers for the sports world, particularly hockey, F1, american football, maybe even just specific athletes. I’ve seen that some writers are including more gender neutral and male readers to their work, but when all you see is straight girls getting every piece of writing, it really sucks and makes us feel pretty shitty

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mydear-corinthian · 6 months

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Defense || John Shelby

Synopsis: Defending John during the ambush of Changretta's men in your home. Pairing: John Shelby x reader (+ Michael - platonic) Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD ! (season 3 & 4), gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, injury Notes: There will be some grammatical errors. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

"Mom, mom, it's Christmas day!", Katie shrugging my shoulders to wake me up. A smile painted on my face just at the sight of my kids. The past few months with John have been challenging. He was held captive for six months and was on the brink death just hours before he was hanged. The good news is that Tommy was able to arrange for his release, though under quite tense circumstances. But Tommy still has my anger because he enabled my spouse to rot in prison. That's why the kids, John, and I are here right now. We've moved out of Small Health and into the country in our new house.

"Alright, Katie. I'm awake .. I'm awake. Happy Christmas," I greeted. I looked around the room and saw that John was nowhere to be found—just the kids and I. When I asked Katie where John was, she replied that he was just making breakfast downstairs. "Thank you, love. Let's go join your Dad now, eh?" I kissed her forehead and joined her to come downstairs.

I met John in the kitchen downstairs, breakfast was already placed on the table. He was in the kitchen, I assume he was still making some hot tea. "Happy Christmas, John," He walked toward me and planted a kiss on my cheek as he said, "Good morning and Happy Christmas, love. I made breakfast. Decided not to make you busy on Christmas day." I laughed at his answer. He gave me a cup of warm tea. He grabbed his metallic pouch full of cigarettes and took one. Lighting it before inhaling the toxic air.

"Bit too early for a puff, darling?", I asked, taking a sip of the tea that John made. "Just want to. Besides, it's Christmas day, y'know," he replied, releasing the air from his cigarette. I shrugged off. It was fine with me since I am a smoker as well plus he's right. It's Christmas.

A car caught my eye as it approached our house. I don't know why, but it felt like a familiar car. The Changretta's are still out there, tracking us one by one. Well- I blame my husband for it.

"John? There's a car coming by our house. We're not expecting visitors.." I looked at the window, moving the curtain a bit with my fingers. John smothered the fire and removed his cigarette right away. He reached for his weapon, which was kept under our kitchen counter table's cabinet. He immediately grabbed my arms. I startled at his touch, I asked nervously, "John, what is it?"

"Get the kids and hide. I'll check who it is," he ordered. My hands found his cheeks as I cupped them. My eyes were slowly filling up with water. "How about you John? I already lost you once and I'm not doing it again."

When his head was already in the noose, I thought I had lost him. awaiting the death angel's arrival to welcome him. I want my children to have a father in their lives. I wish to avoid loneliness. Also, I don't want him to be alone.

"You won't and I'll be back. Just go and hide for me. You understand, (y/n)?" he kissed my lips before going outside. I grabbed the kids immediately, telling them to go to the attic first. My son asked, "What happened, mom?"I got on my knee, now the same height level as my son. I brushed his hair with my finger. "It's nothing to worry about, love. Just go and keep your siblings safe in the attic? I'll be there in a while, okay?" My eldest son nodded in agreement, taking his other siblings up to the attic, and keeping them safe.

I followed John outside. Holding my sheriff gun tightly on my dominant arm.I saw him talking to someone. He put his rifle down, making a conversation with the person. I can't help but be curious and follow him. I sighed in relief, turns out it was only Michael. But that doesn't mean that there's going to be bad news.

"Michael, what are you doing here on Christmas day?" I can't help but ask, I was just beside my husband.

"We need to go now." Michael said.

"To whom?" my husband asked.

"To Tommy. He told me to tell you," he responded.

Fuck. Tommy again. What does he fucking want this time. I can't help but simmer in frustration, my mind fucking with annoyance and exhaustion. After what happened last time, I'm not going to risk my loved ones safety again.

"'Tommy told me' What are you, his fucking parrot?" I argued, my brows knitting together in frustration and in anger. "It's the fucking 'Black Hand'! The mafia! The New York fucking mafia!" Michael debated.

John and I's eyes widened.

The New York fucking mafia? Fucking mafia? Well, fuck us.

John noticed a wagon full of hays stopped exactly in front of our house. 3 men appeared wearing suits and a black hat. Guns out, pointing at the three of us.

"John, no!" Michael shouted but John didn't listen.

John cocked his rifle, shooting the three men. Michael and I did the same. One of their men got hit by our bullets and immediately fell. I was so preoccupied with aiming that I failed to notice that Michael and John had already been wounded and were lying on the ground with blood dripping off of them. I gave them a look. My eyes grew wide with terror and shock. I cried out while squeezing them together. With bullets squeezing his leg, John moaned in pain.

My heart stopped instantly. It seemed as though I was the one going to die. Time and gravity seemed to have stopped. My world came to an end. In front of me, time appeared to be motionless and lacking any sensation of reason or meaning.

Bringing back to my senses, I immediately tore my dress and tied it around my husband's leg, applying pressure to his wound. I did the same thing to Michael too, but John's wounds were much worse than his.

2 men stopped shooting and were heading towards my direction. I grabbed my gun, pointing it at them. "Stay where you are or for God knows what, I'll fucking shoot the both of you." I irritably said.

The two of the men can't help but laugh at what I said. Did I make a fucking joke?

"Very funny. You're a Shelby but you are also a woman. A woman can't shoot! I bet that gun isn't even loaded. How funn-" The man suddenly stopped speaking. His body fell to the ground, blood pooling out of his head. His eyes still opened.

I shot him, directly on the head with no mercy, guilt, and remorse after.

"Well, I'm afraid you lost your bet."

The remaining man was about to shoot me but my actions were more faster than his. I shot him multiple times, emptying the bullet chamber of my gun. "For your information, I shoot better than anyone in the Shelby family. I am a former assassin," you said to the dead bodies in front of you.

Before I left, I said,

"And you don't fuck, with the Peaky Fucking Blinders."

I went back to John and Michael, reassuring both of them that they were dead and that I'd call Tommy and an ambulance right away. John looked at me, and he slowly smiled, "Well that was offensive." I chuckled at his response but hey, it was true. I do shoot better than them. "Stay with me, John. And you too Michael. God doesn't want you guys above there yet."

I ran like there was a race, I reached out for the telephone, calling the hospital to get an ambulance. After that, I called Tommy, rage feeling in every part of my body.

"Black hand, the Mafia, the Changretta's. They were here Tommy. They were fucking here. John and Michael have been shot!"

I hung up the phone and gave it an aggressive touch. I groaned and clutched my hair in a fist. I almost lost my husband again. I quickly made my way to the attic and told my kids they could leave since it was now safe. I told them about their father and uncle while simultaneously assuring them that everything would be alright.

Later on, the ambulances came. They took Michael and John and I went too. The kids stayed with the kids. "Thank you, for backing us up, (y/n). I don't know what to do without you." John thanked me, and his hand grabbed my palm, stroking it with his thumb. I kissed his forehead, muttering an 'I love you'.

"I'm always here, John.

Always."

The End

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby #john shelby x reader #x reader #michael gray #joe cole

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skxllz · 10 months

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𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 + 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

I feel as if john is the type to display more pda than his brother's. while he isn't too big on hand holding or kissing the back of your hand, he will give you a smooch on the cheek if he excuses himself - or even, to show he appreciates you, he'll slide his hands to your hips and tug you closer before setting his forehead against your own. the way he'd look into your eyes would be enough for anyone to see that you're his and his alone.

now, john is the more flexible one out of his brothers. while arthur and tommy both have a caring side, it takes more effort to pull their loving nature out. for john, I feel, it comes natural - maybe with a bit of a push, but still easier. he's willing to dip you when you the two of you dance, and loves to see that wide smile of yours when he tightens his grip on your waist and pulls you into him. you're kissing him by then, cheeks tinted the slightest shade of red, all while he's cheekily planning in his head on how to made you even redder.

around his family, his acts of affection towards you would come in little bits that you're sure to notice. whether it be a hand to your waist at all times, or him rubbing small circles into your side with his thumb. somehow when you're around, john is just always touching you, but you will never have a complaint leave your mouth about it.

I also see him as the type to pull you close and kiss your temple when he leaves out with his brothers to do some kind of business. It's a sweet and small gesture, but it leaves such an effect on you. he also tends to whisper in your ear how much he loves you, just loud enough for you to hear and you alone - in his line of work, he never knows if he'll make it back to tell you again or not.

in situations where the two of you argue; to make up, john is quick to heist you up by the waist and pin you to the wall. kisses and bites to your neck and chest are his best way of letting you know just how sorry he is, and how much he loves every part of you. later on, he'll apologize in words - explaining, whatever the problem was/is, only to continue to express how much he didn't mean to yell at you and how much he adores your presence.

adding onto that last bit; john will place a hand to your cheek and stroke your soft skin with a back n’ forth movement of his thumb. his touch is warm and inviting, and the act itself is small, yet filled such utter affection for you as he gazes into your eyes. your foreheads will be pressed together; your breathing in sync; his lips hovering just above your own. “ you mean more to me than you'll ever know, ” is the words he always says - and everytime, it soothes your vastly beating heart.

when the two of you are just with one another, john enjoys displaying kisses to your shoulders and over the back of your spine. It always arises laughter from you - and since your giggles are music to his ears, he simply insists he must continue to do so until you can no longer vocalize your enjoyment.

he also loves to run his fingers through your hair. your touch alone reminds him you're still there with him, but to have your soft tresses amongst his fingertips assures him that you wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon - not as long as he's around.

okay I can think of much more acts of affection for this man, but I'll cut it here just because it's 6:58 am right now where I'm at lol.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby headcanons #peaky blinders john shelby #joe cole #john x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you

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imaginesforeveryone · 3 months

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Spunky Bitch

pairing: John Shelby x Y/N Warning: angst, swearing, sassy reader, smut, re-write of an episode (S2E2), baby kink Summary: You being a Blinder, and the right hand women of John Shelby all these years you did business with them a lot. This particular day you were doing things with the Italians, the Changrettas, and you just didn’t like the tone they were giving off.

Stood behind John Shelby, also your husband, in Charlies yard. You watched as Mr. Changretta walked towards you, accompanied by Finn, and his two body guards.

“You asked for a meeting out in the open, fresh air and the fine aroma of shit.” Arthur spoke as Mr. Changretta stood in front of the chair across from John. You let out a small laugh as Arthur spoke.

“Neutral grounds you say.” Arthur speaking again as you let the smile fall off your face and kept an eye on one of the two body guards that stood beside Mr. Changretta.

“This is hardly neutral ground,” He spoke to Arthur for the first time.

“Well, its what you’ve got.” Arthur said sitting on the chair beside John. Taking a step closer to John, and being almost shoulder to shoulder with Finn, but not really shoulder to shoulder at all, because now that kid grew tall.

“So, por favor, sit down.” Arthur spoke motioning Mr. Changretta to sit in the chair. Smiling slightly as you listened to the conversation. Resting a hand on Johns shoulder.

“Where is Thomas?” Mr. Changretta spoke to John.

“He got called away.” John replied back to him, who didn’t sit down as he was told from Arthur.

“He said he’d be here.” He rebuttled.

“and he just told you, Thomas got called away. What do you want?” You spoke up starting to get frustrated with them man. John looking behind himself at you and giving you half grin. He loved the sas you had. Even more when it was you sticking up for him.

“There has been a peace between the Peaky Blinders, and the Changretta family for two years now..” He spoke to John and Arthur. Seeing John smirk over at Arthur at what the man was saying.

“Do you want some tea or not?” John interrupted him. Mr. Changretta just looking at him.

“Here, love, pour the Italians some English tea. Go on.” John said motioning you to pour tea for them. Walking around John as you hand slid across the top of his back to grab the tea pot.

“We don’t want fucking tea.” Mr. Changretta yelled as you grabbed the pot. You looked over at John, who you could tell wanted to get up and shot him right in his head, but you also knew if this meeting didn’t go correctly, it would end bloody. Setting the tea pot back on the table and going back to you previous position behind John.

“We want an explanation.” He spoke to John.

“Well, I’ll have fucking tea.” Arthur said leaning forwards and grabbing the tea pot and making himself a cup of tea.

“An explanation for what?” John asked averting his eyes away from Mr. Changretta.

“The little Venice Restaurant on Forge Street was burnt down…” Mr. Changretta spoke.

“No. No. Couldn’t have been us, we was at a wedding.” John spoke interrupting him for the second time.

“You burnt it down to stop my son being at the same wedding.” Mr. Changretta stated to John.

“EHH, He wasn’t missed.” You spoke up causing John to let out a breathy laugh. Mr. Changretta pushing out a fake laugh.

“You are such big boys now. But once you borrowed clothes from us to look like me.” Mr. Changretta spoke. You were confused a bit by his words. You knew Mrs. Changretta was the boys teacher in school, but didn’t know how close they actually where back then. John adjusting himself in his seat, and looking over at Arthur.

“How’s the tea, Arthur? Is it..” John asked but stopped his sentence as he throw the tea out of the cup. Arthur making a disgusted face at it,

“Its cold.” He said looking up at the body guard to Changretta’s left. John averting his eye back up to Mr. Changretta.

“Please tell Tommy. We pay whatever he asks us to pay. We stay in our part of the city and off the tracks. But you tell him from me.” He spoke but taking a pause getting closer to John. You removed you hand from his shoulder to put your hand on your gun. John putting his hand out to let you know its fine.

“That my son will walk with any women in this city. Anyone he choses. Even if that women works for the emperor, Thomas Shelby.” John grinning at his statement but letting him speak.

“My son is in love.” John starting to snort out a of laughed.

“Sorry. Do excuse me.” He spoke through a bit of laughter, pulling the bill of his hat down to cover his laughing face and rubbing his eyes a bit.

“Carry on.” He spoke after he held in his laughter. Vicente pausing and just staring at John and he composed himself.

“And if he wishes, he will walk with the women he loves.” Vicente finished.

“Okay.” John said out to him, still trying to compose himself a bit.

“You know. It would be hard for your son to walk anywhere.” You spoke up behind John getting quite annoyed with the way Vicente was telling them what his son was going to do. Walking between him and Arthur grabbing the tea pot, and beginning to pour into a cup.

“With a bullet in each knee, wouldn’t it?” John finishing you sentence. Not what you were going to say, but you know now this meeting wasn’t going to go the way it needed to go with the words John spoke. Vicente now standing straight up. You looked over at Arthur who was looking over at John now, knowing that’s not what was needed to be said. John taking a sip from the cup you just put tea in and looking up at the now angry Vicente.

“Too much.” He said pointing a finger at John. Now blood boiling in your veins, you looked around to see what everyone next move was.

“You said too much, my friend.” Vicente said starting to walk.

“Sabini says, ‘suck and swallow.’ but no. Too much. I spit.” Vicente said as he spit on the ground in front of you. With slight giggle exiting everyones mouth. Hearing a chair being broken you looked over at one of the men who stood next to Vicente.

“Oh. Okay. A bit strong.” You spoke out to the man laughing a bit.

“Fucking hell.” John spoke after taking a sip of his tea. Arthur not looking to happy at all.

“Isaiah.” Arthur said to the young Peaky boy stood behind him. Isaiah Leaning over next to Arthur.

“Put two extra men on our pubs in Nechells.” He told him. John looking over at Arthur in confusion.

“What are you talking about, Arthur?” John asked.

“We’re not scared of fucking eye ties anymore.” You told Arthur.

“Don’t tell Tommy about the chair and clean this fucking shit up.” Arthur said to Isaiah ignoring what you and John just said to him. Standing from his seat and looking over at John and you with anger. John looking at him with an expression that said “what the fuck.”

“We’re not scared of fucking wops.” John said to Arthur turning around in his seat.

“Alright John.” Arthur said under his breathe.

“Come on lets get back to the shop.” You told John taping him on the shoulder. He stood up and threw his arm over you shoulder as you guys began to walk to the betting shop. Walking through an alley, John grabbing you by your hips and pushing you up against the wall and attaching his lips to yours.

“It so sexy when you stand up for me like that.” He said through kisses. You smiled and lightly pushed him away.

“How about you show me how sexy it is?” You spoke up at him now with his back against the other walls.

“Later love. We have to get back to the shop.” He said causing a puppy dog face to spread across your face. He just giggled and threw his arm around you again and continued your walk.

“Hey Pol. Can you help me real quick? I barely understand Arthurs writing. I feel like I’m super drunk trying to read them.” You said as you heard Polly walking into the office you and John shared, but she didn’t answer back just kept her eyes locked on John as he had his feet up, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. She then threw her newspaper on his desk. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye and still sipping his tea.

“Did we run Kempton yesterday or not?” He spoke to her breaking the silence and setting his cup down. But still had his eyes fixed on his newspaper.

“Danny Lee got drunk, instead of injecting the horses with cocaine, he decided to share it with his cousins.” She explained talking about the races that were being held at the racetrack the day before. John just closes his eyes trying to regain patiences about the situation and sided softly.

“Jesus Christ.” He spoke out about it.

“Its your brother-in-law. Tell Esme to speak about it.” She spoke back.

“Ex.” You spoke out from the side.

“Maybe be an ex darling but nobody divorces a Shelby. Shelby’s just get married again. I love you like my own kin darling, but I’m sorry to say you are married to a married man, who’s wives family is a big part of this company, and sadly we still need them.” She spoke to you but not looking your way. You sighed softly and sat back in your chair to see where the rest of this conversation was headed.

“look.” Polly spoke going back to the previous conversation.

“Before I start.” She said grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the other side of Johns desk.

“I don’t want you to do a thing about this.” She said then shutting the door. This really peaking your interest, kind of knowing what she was about to talk about.

“About what?"John asked already with annoyance in his voice and face as he took his feet off his desk to face Polly now. You knew what she was about to say was about the Changretta problem.

"Vicente Changretta’s son.” She said before taking a seat. John sitting up with s mile on his face and laughing.

“The one Lizzie was stepping out with.” Polly said.

“What, Angel?” He asked for confirmation of her previous statement.

“He’s no bigger than twopence with of change.” He spoke before letting Polly speak again.

“Well, he heard you threatened him directly to shoot him in his knees and not he’s going around Nechells telling everybody he’s going to kill you.” She spoke. You instantly standing up to begin your joinery to go kill him yourself.

“Sit.” John said. You rolled your eyes sitting down, crossing your legs and your arms. John grabbing a pencil looking as if he was writing something.

“This is Lizzie’s fault to start with, Tommy’s for leaving it up to you.” She told him.

“What are you talking about?” John asked looking up at Polly now with confusion on his face. Polly just look at John with a blank expression.

“We run London. We run the north, we run the whole fucking country. What do we care about some fucking Nechells Green Eyeties?” He spoke seeing him starting to get a little angry as he looked down at his paper again. You stood from you desk and walked over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders hoping to maybe calm him down a bit. You looked at Pol, who just raised an eyebrow, knowing what she said next was probably going to piss him off even more.

“We sent need to be getting involved in all these little piss pots.” Polly said back to John.

“What does Arthur say?” John said with his voice a little calmer. Pol again looking up at you and raising both eyebrows.

“That’s why I’m here and not him. If he said it, there’d be a fight.” Pol said getting ready to tell John what Arthur said.

“He says, apologize.” Pol said. Instantly shooting your eyes to hers then down at John, now lightly massaging his shoulders hoping it will help him from getting angry. He put his had to his face almost with a face of disbelief that Arthur said that.

“He fucking said what?” He said with laugh between words. You knew it wasn’t a good kind of laugh. He went back to scribbling on his paper.

“We own the city. But we dint need to rub everyones noses in it.” Polly said causing John to push his pencil hard into the paper.

“If the old man decided to make a stand, he might get Sabini feeling sentimental..”

“Sabine’s done.” John said interrupting Polly. There was defiantly an awkward silence now in the room as everyone just kind of looked around not making eye contact.

“They’re all done.” Polly said breaking the silence. John putting his fist up to his head and pushing his forehead into it trying to get himself as calm as possible. But, you’ve known John a while and there’s only so much that could be done to keep him calm, so you took your hands away from him and took a step back.

“They all pay up. But we don’t want rebellions.” Polly continued. John now sighing heavily still trying to keep calm.

“What does Tommy say?” He asked in a tone of regret even asking the question.

“Tommy’s busy. He left me in charge.” Polly spoke with a low but direct tone trying to make John understand.

“What do you say?” John asked twirling his finger, fixing his mistake with his eyes closed.

“Compromise.” Polly said sitting back in her chair.

“Mmm-hmm” John said under his breathe with s light smirk on his face.

“I’ve asked Lizzie to do it for you. She’s going to meet him, break up with him for good, apologize for any inconvenience, say it was all her fault”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” John screamed stranding and hitting everything off the table finally losing his cool. You just stood there in silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You know what ask this is?” John asked with a slight stutter.

“This is Arthur’s fucking missus.” He said starting to walk back and forth talking about Linda.

“Turn the other fucking cheek? We’ll be handing out bibles in the fucking bull ring with her cousins.” John said leaning over the desk to Polly before turning and grabbing his jacket.

“John, you don’t have to do anything. Lizzie will do it for you.” Polly spoke. You threw your hands in the air, and put them over your face knowing that was going tone make him more mad.

“ Then it’ll all calm down, and nobody will lose face.” Polly said as John walked passed her to the door. You followed behind stopping next to Polly.

“I’ll take his fucking face. How about that?” He said as he opened the door.

“John, do nothing…. ” Polly began but John slamming the door before she could finish. She let out a sigh and looked over at you.

“How do you deal with this?” Polly asked you.

“I’ll try to find him.” You said quickly grabbing your jacket and running out of the office and out the front doors. You saw Johns car driving away. You hoped into yours and followed him. Losing him. few blocks away. You drove in the direction of where the Changretta’s spent most their time. After about 10 minutes you spotted John’s car parked in front of a building. You parked and got out running to the front doors. But before you should open them, John came out. He had sweat on his forehead, and blood on the blade of his cap.

“John. What did you do?” You said backing up a bit. He ignored you and pushed passed.

“JOHN!” You yelled at him.

“Nothing y/n! Leave me alone!” He yelled back before getting into his car and driving away. You threw you hands in the air and sighed out.

“Fucking Shelby’s” You spoke out loud to yourself.

“Where is he?” Polly asked about an hour later as you sat in the kitchen with her and Arthur sipping tea. Tommy stood in the betting shop waiting for John to show. You heard the door close and saw John walk in with his hat in his hand and Finn stood next to him.

“All right, Finn, thanks for coming. Fuck off.” Arthur said as John stood, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. You were quite upset at how he treated you when you saw him. But here is where we’d get all the answers we needed.

“Finn, you can stay.” Tommy said walking into the kitchen, and Finn turning around too come back. Tommy stepping in the doorway.

“Sit down John.” Tommy said leaning up against the doorframe smoking his cigarette.

“Sit down.” He said once again when John didn’t the first time.

“John, you cut Angel Changretta.” Tommy spoke after a bit of silence. You looked over at John who just held his head down and listened.

“Even though Arthur told you to apologize.” Tommy spoke Arthur holding his head up to show that yes he did tell John that.

“Mmm-hmm” Was all John said to that statement.

“Polly told you to compromise.” Tommy continued.

“Mmm-Hmm” John replied again with.

“You chose not to listen to Mr. Apologize, or Mrs. Compromise.” Tommy said pointing his finger at each of them, causing you to sightly grin.

“And now I have an Italian walking around my backyard saying he’s going to kill my brother.” Tommy spoke after a slight pause. Making a fist of your hand.

“Not if he wants to join his son in having no eyes too.” You said quietly, causing everyone to look at you. You held you head down letting Tommy speak.

“So what do we do, John. Do we apologize or do we compromise?” Tommy asked. Seeming as if it was a trick question to you the way this conversation has been going. John sucked on his teeth looking down, and then up at Arthur.

“Oh, it was just something said as a joke.” Arthur spoke for the first time since sitting down. Tommy looking up at him away from John.

“Yeah but he’s your brother as well, Arthur.” He said lifting a hand and speaking with it.

“Yeah. I know I didn’t want to start a war over something John said without meaning it.” Arthur said looking back at Tommy. Tommy had a confused look on his face and looked away.

“So, should he apologize in Italian or in English?” Tommy said looking back at Arthur with slight sarcasm in his voice. Polly looked over at Tommy in disbelief he just said that and Johns eyes finally coming up off the table and looking over at Arthur, Polly and you.

“Or should we ask them which fucking language they prefer?” Tommy asked them. You now understood that Tommy was on John’s side about the decision.

“I’m not clear.” He said looking over at Arthur with anger on his face. Polly turning and moving her body is confusion and like she just had been disrespected in some way.

“You said while this business was going on in London, you wanted peace at home.” Polly spoke to Tommy.

“And the only way to guarantee peace is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless.” Arthur sitting back in his seat more tense than before, and Polly with her hand on him hoping to calm him down a little bit. Polly stared at Tommy with disbelief in her eyes.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking brick out of the wall of your fucking house. Do you want to bring the house down Arthur?” Tommy said looking over at Arthur who was still looking away from Tommy and tense as ever. Arthur just grunting back at Tommy’s question.

“If you’re soft on rebellion, it’ll grow.” Tommy spoke. Polly grinning as she picked up her tea again, and Arthur getting up from his seat.

“Bloody 'soft on rebellion.” Arthur said standing up mocking what Tommy said.

“You did the right thing, John.” Tommy spoke looking directly at you now. You could see the lust in his eyes the way he looked at you.

“Now, we go on the offensive. We take two of the Changretta pubs, and we take them tonight. That’s it.” Tommy sad standing straight and now walking all the way into the room.

“oh! Right, for Christ sake, why?” Polly now raising her voice.

“Hey!” Tommy said as he began to walk away.

“WHY!?” Polly yelled back.

“Why? because we fucking can!” Tommy said walking back now and everyone settling back down as he raised his voice.

“Because we fucking can and if we can, we do. And if we lift our heel off their necks now, they’ll come at us. Do you want them to come after your wife John?” He said motioning to you.

“No.” He said in a low growl.

“Remember these are the bastards that wanted Danny Whizz-Band dead.” Thomas said with even more anger in your voice. Remembering back to when Danny was alive. He was a joy to be around when he wasn’t off his rocker. Arthur now pacing in front of the fire place and Tommy just staring at him.

“You’re getting soft, brother. Soft and weak. Save the Bible for Sundays, eh.” Tommy said to Arthur still not taking his eyes off of him and Arthur getting noticeably more angry.

“Finn?” Tommy said still staring at Arthur.

“I need to get to Hockey and then home. It’s been a long day.” Thomas spoke to Finn. Finn getting up and placing his hand on Johns shoulder as he passed him walking passed Tommy probably to go get the car ready to go.

“You take the Wrexham, you take the Five Bells. Arthur on the Wrexham. John and Y/N the Five Bells.” He said giving you guys your orders for the night.

“You get them signed over to us in the morning. You make sure the coppers stay away.” Tommy said to Arthur and Polly, who both now paid no attention to him.

“Don’t use the fucking phone, all right? There’s someone listening.” Tommy said before turning around.

“Oh and John.” Tommy said turning around one more.

“You fuck your wife in the Five Bells to celebrate what you have done.” Thomas said and finally leaving. John sat there in silence as he looked up at Arthur and Polly. Arthur looking at him and walking to him.

“Well done.” He said walking passed John and leaving. John turning to see Arthur leave and all you heard in the room was Polly slurping her tea and staring up at John, making you giggled just a bit. You got up along with John to start heading to do you assigned duties.

As you kicked the last person out of the bar, your felt hands around you turning you around and pushing you up the door.

“Tommy’s order, eh?” John said with a huge smile on his face. You smiled back and attached your lips to his. He lifted you from your feet and onto him. Before sitting you on the bar and ripped it off from the glass that laid on it from prior activities you guys indulged in.

“You want to fuck me Mr. Shelby?” You asked between kisses.

“ I want to do more than fuck you Mrs. Shelby. I want to put a baby in you. Right in this pub.” He said making your eyes go wide.

“Then come on daddy.” You said making him see red. Attacking your neck with his lips making you moan out a bit. He unbuckled his pants and slipped them down around his ankles. Then doing so for you. But not before he ripped open your top to make you breast accessible. Taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking furiously on it, you grabbed the back of his neck for leverage to stay up. His now sweaty hair not slicked bad anymore you yanked it back pulled his face to yours. You reached between you two grabbing his cock in your hand and guiding him inside of you.

“Oh fuck, John.” You moaned out and throwing your head back. As he pumped in and out of you he gripped your shoulder to give him leverage to pound into you.

“John, please don’t stop.” You cried out.

“Why, love?” He asked as he slowed down.

“NO, Please don’t.” You cried out as your grabbed around his torso to pull him into you.

“You want me to put a baby in you? You want to cum all over me?” He said stilled now.

“Yes, please please, making me cum. Put a baby in me.” and with that being said he quickened again, pounding even harder into you than before.

“John, I’m going to cum.” You spoke out with labored breathing.

“Go ahead , love. I’m right there too.” He said as you felt this cock twitch in side of you and he started to get shaky. You came and yelled out. Loud. As you clenched around him, he let out a stream into you. You felt the hot cum just all inside you, making you smile and giggle out. As he pumped a few small strokes and relaxed his muscles into you.

“Fuck. I love you.” He said lifting his head.

“I love you, John Shelby.” You said kissing him.

#john shelby x y/n #john shelby x reader #Joe cole #peaky blinder #imagine #imagines

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lukeevangelista · 2 years

Note

idk if youll do this but joe burrow x a hockey player? maybe y/n plays in the nhl (or wnhl) and theyre kinda a power couple or something?

NHL - Joe Burrow

*gif cred to owner*

I’m gonna do it as a woman forward in the NHL and I know the the timelines are kinda wonky considering NHL playoffs are way after NFL’s but just pretend mkay? Thanks.

_________________________________________________

“He plays a pussy sport.” One of the men from Tampa snarled as you lined up for the face-off, “Pussy sport for a pussy man.”

Your team, the Blue Jackets, were currently at home for a playoff series again the Tampa Bay Lightning.

“Who?”

“Burrow. Can’t even win a championsh-“

The ref dropped the puck before he could finish his sentence, you quickly winning the faceoff as it went to Nick Blankenburg.

“Fuck you.” You hissed as you hit him against the boards. He had went after the puck, you knocking the absolute shit out of him, that freeing up the puck, allowing you to knock it to your closest player.

What you didn’t notice until you heard the whistle was the man on the ice below you.

“Hmm. What’s that about a pussy man?” You asked as you skated away.

***

“Did you see the way she just took him down?” Ja’mar grimaced as Joe let out a laugh.

“Nothing new.” He replied, “i just hope she isn’t going to get hurt one of these days doing that.”

Joe and his teammates were on an off day, but the Bengals front office had worked with the Blue Jackets to get seats for the Bengals to attend the game

It had been an earlier game that day so it was easy for them to clear schedules to allow them to attend. Plus it showed support for the other teams near them.

One of the opposing players had went in for a hit on you. You crumpled to the ground, tightly gripping your shoulder, your head on the ice as chaos ensued around you, whistles blowing and you slightly getting nudged as you felt other skates hitting yours on accident.

You looked up to see your line mate, Cole Sillinger, with his gloves off as he had ahold of the players jersey.

Cole was protective over his line mates, especially you. And it got worse as he got older, knowing the injuries could be career ending.

He delivered a punch to the players jaw as your dropped your head again, the trainer kneeling next to you.

Joe was watching intensely as he and his teammates had a perfect view of you on the ground at center ice, writhing in pain as you held your shoulder. His heart was dropping even more as time ticked on and you still hadn’t gotten up off the ice.

“C’mon, let’s get you up.” The trainer sighed as you leaned up, your hand cupping your arm. Zach Werenski had your other arm around his shoulder, allowing him to help you to the bench easier than the trainer could as your balance was wonky.

“It hurts.” You whispered as you looked at him, tears in your eyes. This had been your worst injury yet and could potentially knock you out of the remainder of the playoffs.

“You’ll be fine kid.” He gave you a soft smile, “Go get help and get back out here with us.” He said as he patted your head, allowing the trainer to take back over as he guided you down the tunnel, you continuing to hear cheers from the crowd and stick taps from your teammates.

——-

“You about gave me a heart attack out there.” Joe said as he immediately brought you into his arms, carefully watching your, now, slinged shoulder.

You were going to be out a week or two- just to make sure there was no further damages while this healed.

And better yet, your boys had pushed forward and beat Tampa, sending you all to the second round of the playoffs.

“I’m sorry.” You muffled into his chest.

“How you feeling?” You heard someone ask from behind you, Boone and Cole walking up behind you as you turned around, Joe’s hand on your lower back as you spoke to your teammates.

“Sore.” You chuckled, “but I shouldn’t be out more than a week. The tendons are just sore, no tears and it wasn’t popped out so we’re all good.”

“Thank god.” Cole let out a sigh of relief, “I need ya out there. Who else am I going to set up for the league lead?”

Boone smacked the back of Cole’s head before rolling his eyes, “Good to hear though. Get some rest, get healthy, and get back out there with us. We need Mighty Mouse out there battling with us.”

“Will do Cap.” You said, “Plus, I’m pretty sure I’m in good care and won’t be lifting a finger.”

“Damn straight.” Joe added as you bided the others goodbye before you met up with Joe’s teammates that had attended.

“You about gave Joe a near heart attack.” Sam laughed, “Glad to see you’re doing okay though.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say okay, but I’m alive and it’s not serious so.”

****

Social media went absolutely crazy when there were photos of you and Joe snapped as you two left Nationwide, your arm in a sling and Joe’s arm around your shoulder.

It was bound to happen, but questions were everywhere when you showed up to the Bengals game against Kansas City, one that would send them to the Super Bowl, once again.

“I still don’t understand why you’re here.” Ally commented as she sat next to you in the press box, “If I was injured, Sam would be on his own here today.”

“He showed up for me, even when his ACL was torn.” You shrugged as you took a sip of your water- although you were eyeing her margarita that was in her hand. Due to the season, you chose not to drink because even though you were out for the next week or so, you didn’t want to mess everything you had achieved up to this point. With the second round around the corner, you didn’t want to risk anything that could jeopardize the teams chances of making the conference final.

“Okay you’ve got a point.” She said as as a few other of the wives and girlfriends sat down next to you two, getting ready for the game to start.

A few had asked how you were feeling, making sure you didn’t need anything, and just overall being good friends to you.

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious that it was.” Ally said as she watched the offense come out onto the field, “I know they all like watching you play. Us too honestly.”

You gave her a soft smile, “Me too. If all things go like planned, I’ll be-“ you cut yourself off as you jumped up, cheering as Joe passed the ball to Ja’mar, him running it into the end zone, “Let’s go! Atta boy!”

Ally laughed and cheered next to you as you all passed around high-fives.

“What were you saying?” Ally asked as you all say back down, the celebration dying down.

“Oh yeah! I should be back by late next week as long as nothing else pops up on the scans.”

“That’s good to hear.” She softly smiled as your conversation fizzled out, you both going back to watching the game.

The game continued without a hitch. It was the final five minutes and you and the others had decided to make your way down to the locker room. There was a 24 point deficit so you all were certain that they would be making a trip to the Super Bowl once again.

Hearing the cheers of the fans and then the thumping of the music in the stands, you knew it wouldn’t be long before the boys would be heading your way. You could hear their shouting as they neared you all, grins present on everyone’s faces as the celebrations started.

Coach Taylor did his duties, giving speeches and passing out game balls before breaking the boys, allowing them to have some fun.

“Way to go nine.” You grinned as you neared him, “I’m so proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t be here without you.” He said as he carefully tugged you into his arms as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Glad to know I’m an important part for you.”

“Oh trust me you are.” He laughed, “I’m just hoping I am for you too.”

“Oh most definitely,” you said, “but right now, this is all about you. Let’s get you that ring nine.”

“As long as it’s your turn after.”

“I think we can try and arrange that.”

#joe burrow #cole sillinger #soft thoughts w/ari #nfl imagine #nhl imagine #joe burrow imagine

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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months

Text

Duchess - A Sean Wallace/Sex Worker!Reader One Shot Story.

This mans has me feeling a certain way. Feral. So yes, you get to enjoy it, too!

Words - 1,810

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Sean Wallace is a man who thrives on the exertion of control, in every aspect of his life. Every facet is subject to meticulous planning and detail, his time valuable. If you are in his life, you serve to him a purpose, otherwise you are merely a waste of time he could spend being productive elsewhere. He enjoys the finely tuned machine that is building his life with those who serve him well in a professional capacity, and this is exactly why he sees you twice weekly.

“I do not entertain the notion of dating or relationships. They're much too complicated. Way too time consuming.”

He told you this upon your first meet, when you inquired why he sought the services of a high-class escort.

“Trust me, you are exactly what I am searching for.”

You aim to please, and god, what a pleasure it is to please him. He’s young, he’s powerful and he’s incredibly handsome. And rich, wealthy enough to afford the high price tag attached to the services you provide. And goodness, how the man can fuck. Sometimes, you often think it should be you paying him for the way he so expertly pounds you into your bed.

Rarely do you enjoy yourself so honestly with a client, have the pleasure you give to him matched in such delicious reciprocation. With Sean, he never deviates from being anything short of an incredible lover.

‘Wear black tonight. You know I like you best in black.’

You tingle with anticipation at reading his text, knowing you only have mere hours to wait until your favourite client will arrive at your Wharfside apartment.

Once your makeup and grooming routine has been executed pristinely, black Victoria’s Secret underwear donning your freshly bathed body, a black Gucci dress chosen, and perfume spritzed strategically, you are ready. He doesn’t keep you waiting.

“Good evening, duchess.” Those words, delivered upon a silky-smooth, cut-glass accent causes heat to rise over your skin, Sean entering your apartment, waiting for you to lead him through to the bedroom. He always lets you lead. Why? So that his hands can wander over your body as your walk, appreciating the swing of your hips, the way the black cloth hugs your curves, to lay kisses upon the back of your neck as he closes the space between you.

Feeling the heat of his body against your back has a flurry of heat gathering between your legs, your dress eased down, his strong hands smoothing over the fabric of your underwear. “You look sensational, as always.” With his mouth at your neck, you feel mindless already, but not so much that you don’t notice him discreetly place a smooth, white envelope upon the shelf beside the bedroom door, your fee within for the transaction you would happily give him for free, should this not be your chosen profession.

It never feels like work with him, though.

You turn to him, his eyes a chilling freeze of blue, the angles of his face shadowed in the low light of the room. Some sex workers insist on no kissing, feeling such an exchange too intimate. You’ve always thought that to be nonsense, taking into mind the intimacy of penetration. A man puts his cock in you, but his lips may not meet yours?

No. Not in your bedroom.

Your mouths join in sensual exploration, his tongue rolling against yours as your fingers begin to work deftly to undress him, revealing the utter grandeur of his body. Lithe muscles concealed within the expanse of pale, freckle flecked skin delight your eyes, your tongue circling his nipple before you sit at the foot of your bed.

His thumb trails your lip as you look up at him, hands unfastening his belt, stripping him nude, perhaps the most impressive part of him already hard and waiting for your attentions. undoubtedly, he has the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen, and in your profession, you’ve seen many.

“How much extra would I have to pay you, to not use a condom?”

“You couldn’t afford it.”

“I’ve never been fond of those who presume they can dictate my finances. Will another five hundred suffice?”

“No.”

“Seven fifty?”

“No.”

“A thousand, and a letter from my doctor confirming a clean bill of health, STI wise?”

Never let it be said that Sean Wallace is not a skilled negotiator, that conversation between you many months ago the only reason why when your tongue runs in a slow, firm lick from the base to tip of his cock, there’s no latex barrier between them. He shudders, a breathy exclamation fluttering over his full lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth encase him, sliding down over his thick shaft, his fingers trailing your scalp as they comb through your hair.

With your mouth working in slow, wet tease and your fingernails gently trailing up and down his back, you have him winding tight in no time, his groans deep and full bodied. “You always look so very pretty, when you have my cock in your mouth.”

Watching you sucking upon him with such expert aplomb, his eyes the fall closed, his chest beginning to heave as his breaths shallow, the thick bulk of him twitching against your tongue. “Not that I do not adore your mouth, duchess, but for now, there is a place upon you that I wish to put mine even more.”

Sparks of anticipation flicker through you as he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, hands roaming as he begins to scatter kisses across your neck. His exploration is slow, careful, his mouth laying kisses to every part of your body revealed from the removal of your underwear, the heat of his skin searing. His mouth takes time to lower, his tongue swirling your navel as his hands bracket your waist, lowering, lowering.

You gasp softly, his tongue meeting the velvet of your cunt, dragging your slit firmly. A few more long, slow licks skim your folds, the hot roll of his tongue settling upon your clit, a radiance of pleasure blooming deep within you. Some men have no clue what on earth to do with a woman where pleasing her with their mouth is concerned; Sean is not one of them.

Closing his mouth around you, he sucks at you, pupils inking into the blue as he feels the honey of your cunt bathing his tongue, a grunt welling his throat, hands grasped firmly upon your hips. You can see him smiling around you, watching as you throw your head back and cry out, knowing your performance isn’t amped up for effect. It’s all him.

Your cries continue to sound the air in blissful sonnet, his tongue fluttering over your clit, featherlight licks making it swell, beating harder and faster, then back to gentle as the pleasure sears right to your marrow. You feel it settling deep, your core throbbing, purring with delight as your fingers skim through his hair, your back arching off the bed as you writhe against the heaven that is his tongue.

Wet heat works your bud with the kind of skill that leaves you breathless, fire chasing frost through your veins, the feel of his neatly trimmed beard prickling at where you are soft and soaking for him offering delicious friction. He pauses, teasing at you with his fingers before they push inside, hooking, his lips planting hot kisses against your inner thigh, watching you begin to fall apart for him.

The pleasure sparks like a flint strike, those little illuminations skittering over your nerves as he returns his tongue to you, gentleness gone as he lays keen, unrelenting licks across your clit. Pure ebullience beams brightly, your panting ascension chased by the punch of his fingers within the wet clasp of your cunt and the rapid flickers offered by a tongue that does not cease until you’re cresting hard for him.

Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, thighs skimming his face as your flames catch against his edges, your release a glittered explosion that leaves you breathless and hungry to be parted around his cock. Of course, he reads your need, pushing your legs apart before sinking himself into you, your walls flexing as he splits you wide, mouth closing around your nipple to suck keenly, his cock bottoming out and dragging back so deliciously slowly, you feel on the verge of tears.

Kissing the whimpers from your lips, he holds you beneath him, moaning against your tongue as he pushes forth again, gliding through the soaking mess of your cunt. He fills you entirely, mouth at your neck as strong snaps from his hips shock you, pulling out entirely, teasing you with the promise of him, chuckling at your frustration as he nibbles the soft skin of your throat.

“Does the duchess crave it, hmm?”

“Mmm,” you purr, stroking his handsome face, watching him catch your fingers between his lips and suck. “She always does when it’s you giving it.”

He moans a laugh, kissing you. “Correct answer.” The silken glide of him has you lost in ecstasy, his mouth touring the other side of your neck, tongue flickering where your pulse flutters madly, filling and emptying you steadily.

The rhythmic, contained pace is not set to last, the need with him coiling like an angry serpent as he gives each thrust with voracity, his short nails digging into your thighs as he sits back on his heels, watching how good it looks as his cock fills and enters you rapidly.

He arrows you thoroughly, every last inch of him sinking into the wet clutch of your cunt as you open for him, panting hard, your moans filling the room as he has you spread and helpless before him, fucking you like a jackhammer. He slows then, thumb languidly swirling over your clit, each thrust more contained, dragging sparks as he scrapes your walls, bending to suck your nipples in turn with an aroused grumble.

That slowness is abandoned once more, Sean railing you into the bed, loving the way you wail for him, hand stroking your cheek before he grasps your jaw in a strong grip, feeding you his thumb as he looks at you with uncontained lust. It escalates sharply, consummation rushing through you as lightning flickers at the base of your spine, striking home as he closes his eyes tightly and moans gutturally, spilling into you, thick ropes of cum warming your fluttering walls further.

You lie breathless against one another, knowing that all he needs is a whiskey and half an hour, and he shall be all over you again.

And he’s the one paying you. What satisfying work it is to be on the sexual payroll of a man both criminal in the streets, and between the sheets.

#sean wallace #sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfiction #gangs of london fanfic #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace imagine #joe cole

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avawritingsfc · 2 months

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i am back...oops its been a while 🙊

I will be writing again...but my interests have changed slightly (I will still accept SF9/BTS requests among others) including a random assortment of people below:

🧡 Joe burrow

💙 Cole Palmer

❤️ Emile Smith Rowe

💚 Harry Lewis (Wroetoshaw)

I am open to writing for other footballers...if i like them too hehe ⚽️🤍

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call-sign-shark · 10 months

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𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓀’𝓈 𝒳𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎, 4th December

“In the midst of the fog she appeared, standing tall through Birmingham’s streets with a decapitated head in her slender hands and her blue eyes shining through the mist. All it took was one look into her soul for John’s heart to understand that it didn’t stand a chance. Every night after this first meeting, the betrothed young gangster dreamt about her, willing to welcome the darkness of her nature and the weight of her past just to feel her death-cold touch. Each thoughts of her made his appetizing blood pump faster in his veins, body temperature raising and heart racing — a dizzying cocktail her sharp senses couldn’t resist. Bryn stopped and wondered: was it John who had fallen first? Or was it her?” For @darklydeliciousdesires , based on Immortal Beloved.

To celebrate Christmas I’ve been using my free time lately to create 23 gifts that are already programmed, most of them for my beloved Peaky blinders mutuals. I’ll post one gift per day until Christmas, so stay tuned in because yours are coming. You just don’t know when! 🎄

#Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #John Shelby #Sharksmas #John Shelby x OC #Peaky Blinders oc #Joe Cole

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bluewxrld07 · 8 months

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Tate McRae Song Masterlist

Cut My Hair - Instagram AU

Cole Caufield and Ethan Edwards

Greedy

Jack Hughes

Run For The Hills

Joe Burrow

Hurt My Feelings

Ethan Edwards Pt. 2

Exes

Luke Hughes

We're Not Alike

Cole Caufield

Uh Oh

Ethan Edwards

She's All I Wanna Be - Instagram AU

Trevor Zegras

Slower

Joe Burrow

#bluewxrldmasterlist #nfl masterlist #NHL masterlist #Tate McRae songs #hockey boys #UMich #umich hockey #ethan edwards imagines #Rutger mcgroarty imagine #trevor zebras imagine #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #Joe burrow imagine #Cole caufield x reader

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virgoilluminati · 1 year

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A/N; Hello, so I’m currently very burnt out due to exams and literally can barely write anything. That’s why I have decided to redo this whole tumblr page and start from scratch. But I have seen these social media things all over tumblr and really wanted to give it a go with my faves. This one is obviously about my loverrrr finn cole 💕 but I want to do lots of different ones based on whoever you guys would want to see. I wanna give credit to some of the people that I saw do this before on here (please go check them out because they are all so lovely) and say thank you because you have become my inspiration ❣️there are so many but here are my main inspo a @http-alexademie, @happy4harry @tillthelandslide @pancakes4two. I literally just love this idea and found it so fun to do, so thank youuuu 💕

Context: Y/N played Jules Solomans - Alfie Solomans daughter in the last two seasons of Peaky Blinders. Jules and Micheal are basically a couple (instead of Gina). This is set at the BAFTAs, that happened last night, if hypothetically peaky blinders got nominated for awards and y/n got nominated for supporting actor. (Which IRL Cillian Murphy was ROBBED from). Enjoy xx

______________________________________________________

@ finn_cole

Liked by @ yourinstagram, @ peakyblindersofficial & 890,000 more

@ finn_cole: Bafta ready, with the help of @britishvogue, feeling especially amazing tonight. Best of luck to all nominated ✌🏻

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@finncolefanacc: He’s so pretty 😍 someone please wife him up!

@boceybocey: best of luck mate

@ finn_cole: @boceybocey, not the same without you.

@peakyblinderdaily: damn, it sucks paul can’t be there the one time peaky got nominated :(

@peakyblindersfan1: I can’t believe that peaky blinders finally got the recognition they deserved!! Please give our boys the win! #BAFTA

@ joecole: getting the band back together

@ cillianmurphyofficial : @joecole, can’t wait. Been a while.

@yourinstagram: best of luck Micheal Grey x

@finncoleslay: wait, why is no one talking about @yourinstagram! Her comment I-

@yourinstagramfandaily: @yourinstagram, Gurl - you have some explaining to do-

@Johndeservedtolive: OMG, are theyyy—? No, they can’t be—. I—! Oh my gawddd I am going to faint…

@ yourinstagram

Liked by @ finn_cole, @ peakyblindersofficial and 2,300,000 others.

@ yourinstagram: thank you for all your love and support. I am so greatful to be nominated for supporting actress tonight. Love you all ❣️

View all 75,000 comments

@yourinstagramslayys: Your deserve it babes, literally her acting in peaky blinders, was phenomenal.

@Y/nisbae; slayyying as per usual 🔥

@JulesSolomonsisbae: Y/N for the winnnnnn 🥇

@florencepugh: good luck bestie, although you won’t need it.

@ yourinstagram: @florencepugh drinks on me, regardless.

@finncoleslay: THEY’RE BOTH WEARING BLACK. OML MATCHING OUTFITS ALREADY!!-

@ zendaya: 🔥🔥🔥

@ finncole: @ zendaya agreed.

@peakyblindersdailyyyy: - wait a damn minute…. Now wait a damn minute

@ finn&yn: It’s happening, oh my god it’s happening - everyone calm. Don’t panic I-I

@ yourinstagram

Liked by @ cillianmurphyofficial , @finn_cole and 3,450,000 others

@ yourinstagram: Thank you, that’s all I can say. From the bottom of my heart. This has been a dream come true. I have no words.

View all 130,000 comments

@Peakyblindersofficial: Congratulations, our Jules always and forever.

@ cillianmurphyofficial: Well deserved, absolute pleasure to have worked alongside you for the last three years, what adventures to come! ❣️

@ joecole: Y/N strikes again! Absolutely brilliant.

@ florencepugh: Absolute legend, drinks are on me.

@ yourinstagram: @ florencepugh thats a first. Damn I must’ve done well.

@julessolomansslayys: So proud! So proud!

@ y/nmybae: I AM SO HAPPY AHHHHHH

@ finncole: beautiful award for a beautiful girl.

@ yourusername: @ finncole thank you, glad I have such a handsome man by my side

@ finn&y/n: it’s official guys! Oh my god. Oh my god.

@ peakyblindersofficial

Liked by @ finn_cole, @bafta, @ cillianmurphyofficial and 13,980,000 others

@ peakyblindersofficial: Well, we may not have won the best crime drama award, but our congratulations go to our very own, @ yourinstagram, who received her first ever BAFTA award tonight. Absolutely smashed it - always and forever our Jules Gray Solomans

View all 67,000 comments

@ yourinstagram: thank you for giving me the opportunity to play this amazing character. Will live with me forever. ❣️

@ y/nisbae: Yes, the queen deserves everything!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

@Jules&Micheal: @ yourinstagram Thank you for being our role model. We are so proud.

@peakyblindersdailyyy: Cillian was ROBBED, but I am so proud of our girl. Couldn’t ask for anymore 💕💕

@ finncole: My Girl. ❣️

@ yourinstagram: @ finncole, I love you

______________

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #finn cole #finn cole x reader #micheal gray #peaky blinders #imagine #fanfic #joe cole #socialmediafanfics #fanfiction #reader insert #y/n #x reader #peaky fucking blinders #cillian murphy

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val-made-a-mistake · 2 years

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❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 14

THE FINAL CHAPTER

summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.

warnings: smut, cocaine usage, infidelity, angst, brief mention of prostitution...if you’ve made it this far you’re probably not going to be surprised by anything in this chapter

word count: 5.6k

tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23@smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess @bobafett-tea @esposadomd

a/n: holy shit, where do i even start??? it’s hard to believe that a one-shot turned fic series i only wrote as a distraction because i was mad that my movie date got cancelled got here today. thank you all for the support since september 2021, because the amount of people who have enjoyed this series and keysmashed over it and dmed me to say that they stayed up all night reading it is crazy, you guys blew me tf away. i’m kissing you all five times and doing the Hand Squeeze™ with everyone who has supported me over the past five hundred something days TGR has existed. i would gladly make plans to run away to paris with you. :)

//////

“Are you running away? Because it really looks like you’re running away.”

Your suitcase shut with a sharp SNAP. “It’s only temporary. And you keep your mouth shut about this, you hear me?”

Esme held up her hands like you were pointing a gun at her. “Okay, okay, I just really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s only temporary,” you muttered to yourself, preoccupied again as you shoved another cigarette into your mouth, your fifth of the evening. You were refusing to voice your thoughts aloud: you were already thinking about finding a new place to be from. “London’s not that far away from here, is it?”

“You have no family in London, and no friends,” Esme replied. “Y/N, just stop packing the goddamn suitcase.”

You snorted as you lit your cigarette. “It’s funny how no one around here gets that there’s a whole world outside of Small Heath.”

“Yeah, and there’s a whole world of rock bottoms outside of Small Heath,” Esme shot back, flat and unconvinced. “You gravitate towards shitholes, y’know. You’re only just gonna make life worse for yourself all over again.”

“I need to get out of here,” you repeated stubbornly, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. “For just a week.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, this is going to go terribly,” Esme muttered under her breath, absently pouring a miniscule amount of the powdery white substance she had in a tiny vial onto her knuckle. “How are you not thinkin’ of the kids? Fuckin’ four of them and John still doesn’t know how to take care of them.”

You barely heard her; you were staring at the vial of cocaine.

You almost hesitated, but pointed at the table. “Bring it over here.”

Esme gave you a weird look, and there was a tense beat that made you think she wasn’t going to do it, but she pressed her knuckle to her nostril and sniffed with barely a flinch, then poured out a jagged line for you on the table behind her.

“Y/N, I…”

“It’s fine.”

You were already searching your back pockets for a bill, or some kind of thin object that could be rolled into a cylinder.

It didn’t feel good to do it, but one last time couldn’t hurt, right? You were a changed woman now, and you could control yourself - no matter how badly you wanted just another line, like you already knew you would.

Your freshly lit cigarette still burning between your two fingers, you rolled up the bill into a tight cylinder with the precision of someone who had done it hundreds of times before, leaned over the desk, and sniffed up a thin line of cocaine.

Like always, it hit you all at once, like a bolt of lightning. Oh, God.

And then everything became clear.

If there was one think you knew, it was that you were getting out of Small Heath tonight.

“Barely hit,” you muttered, looking up at Esme with dilated eyes. “Can I see the vial, please?”

//////

John was deep in the forest again, his bare feet caked in mud and moss and leaves, and he was going out of his mind with want.

“I miss you,” Martha purred like some long-lost, ethereal creature, and her cold, dainty hand glided around his shoulder. She had been circling him for the past ten minutes and yet her footsteps made no noise - she was pure magic, that woman was, and she smelled something sweet, like pound cake. Dizzy in her presence, John blinked hard as something in the depths of his mind purred happily, something primal and hidden blossoming to life, making him feel everything.

She was in her dress that she had worn to her wedding, the brilliant purple-pink wildflowers were braided into her hair like not a day had gone by, and John forgot that those flowers were actually dried and pressed into some obsolete book in the betting shop in the Parlour.

“Do you miss me?” she whispered, her cold hand on his other shoulder now, and John felt the skin there erupt into gooseflesh.

Martha sidestepped quickly, mystically as ever, and suddenly she was in front of him again. She had asked him a question, and he hadn’t answered.

Her hazel eyes glowed so brilliantly and ethereally that he was sure she made his blue Shelby eyes look hazel too, and he had to pause for a moment to take in her glittering beauty, her fair and freckled skin, her thin lips that had somehow been an insecurity of hers when she’d been alive, like they somehow hadn’t fit perfectly on her face and John hadn’t wanted to kiss them whenever he stared at them for too long.

John knew that he had opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t quite sure what had happened: either the words had come out as though he was underwater, a distorted, gibberish mess, or he had simply opened his mouth and not said anything at all.

He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding harder in his chest, and he tried to say, I do, I do, I do, but for some reason, the words couldn’t force their way past his lips.

“Clearly not, since you’re with that rat bitch,” Martha snarled, and it suddenly dawned on him that this wasn’t reality at all, not a lovely dream but a nightmare, and he started breathing hard until he was nearly hyperventilating, something like a panic attack settling in.

“No,” John tried to say, but his throat had closed off and he felt like he was screaming underwater. No. No. No.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt something like this because he suffered from the soldier’s disease, but just because it was the hundredth time he’d experienced it didn’t mean it got any less terrifying. There was a whirlwind in his brain, a headrush so powerful like everything was incoherent, unreal, and he couldn’t– fucking– breathe—

“Kitchen towels!” Polly shouted from somewhere afar, scaring him awake. “For fuck’s sake, John, where are the bloody kitchen towels?”

John launched himself out of his chair and looked around: Polly wasn’t in his office, where he’d been sleeping for the past several weeks, but she was still shouting loud enough to be heard in the betting shop, so he straightened his cap and smoothed his rumpled suit like he hadn’t been asleep at all and hurried out of the door.

It’s too bloody early for this, he thought angrily.

When John got to the kitchen with the roll of kitchen towels from the betting shop, the first thing he noticed wasn’t Polly hurrying around with a broom, clearly agitated, or a cup of tea overturned everywhere on the kitchen’s pristine tile, but Esme standing in the open doorway of the Parlour, breathing hard, looking pale and panicked. He checked his watch. 6 AM. It was the middle of February; the sun hadn’t even risen yet. What the hell was going on?

He took another look at Polly, the cup of tea shattered on the floor, and Esme, his head swiveling back and forth between them like he was watching a ping-pong match. “Fucking hell, you lot, what’s the matter?”

His voice was groggy and dehydrated, but he blinked hard and tried to ignore it.

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Y/N is fuckin’ missing, that’s the matter,” Polly snapped, venom seeping through her voice as she snatched the kitchen roll from his hands to clean up the mess of liquid and ceramic shards on the floor, “Esme here storms in at six o’clock in the bloody morning, tellin’ me all fuckin’ panicked that she woke up at the Lee house down the street and Y/N wasn’t there when she was spendin’ the night, and she was goin’ on about how she wanted to leave Small Heath before she fell asleep…”

A fresh round of cold, unsettling panic doused John, and seeing the darkening look on his face, Esme grimaced sympathetically at him. “A part of me thought she was joking, I tried to talk her out of it. I’m sorry, John.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Polly snapped with the air that she was only becoming more pissed with every word Esme spoke, and straightening, she slammed the roll of towels on the counter and chucked the shards of ceramic into the garbage. “Gather Arthur and Tommy, we need to have the Blinders looking for her. The earlier we can find her, the better.”

He nodded.

“Arthur!” he bellowed down the hallway, without a care in the world for his kids or anyone else. “Get the fuck up!”

//////

Understandably, there were no trains running at three in the morning, the time you’d left a sleeping Esme at the Lee house on Watery Lane, so you simply shifted your bag higher on your shoulder and decided to find another place in Small Heath to camp out until the sunrise.

Still on your cocaine high, you refused to look at your reflection in the windows of the shopfronts you passed. You already felt disheveled and bloodshot, you didn’t need to see it.

Eventually, you settled on an alleyway some three blocks away from the station. You pressed your back against the wall and slid down it until you were sitting on the damp stretch of dirt, dead grass, and litter.

You moved your bag from your shoulder to your lap and inhaled sharply: if you were aware of your body for too long, the cocaine pain in your ribs made you feel like your entire body was on fire. You had a small bottle of vodka in your suitcase to ration, and you’d feel even better after a few burning gulps from the bottle, but you resolved not to start drinking at least until you got on the train.

The cocaine high would have to be enough for now, you decided.

You sighed as your head suddenly spun, and the hazy feeling of unreality settled deep into your chest, making your heart pound harder and harder until sweat was dampening the back of your neck. Your brain was throbbing hard, but euphoria pulsed through your entire body, and for that feeling alone, it was worth it.

God, cocaine was terrible, but simultaneously beautiful. You’d almost missed it.

Sure, you definitely hadn’t missed always feeling like you were on the verge of fainting, nor the aching and the itchiness and the cold liquid that seemed to bubble in your veins after you came down from your high, indicating that you were sober again, but whatever, it was three in the morning in a shitty corner of England, you were alone and staring up at the glinting stars in the sky, inhaling the ever-present scent of manure and cigarette smoke, and your cocaine-fucked brain promptly decided that nothing else mattered but this moment.

The year is 1920, you thought dumbly, in that same blearily existential way only someone who was extremely high could. Will people still appreciate the Earth’s beauty a hundred years from now?

You probably wouldn’t be around to see it, but you hoped they did, and you squinted up at the sky to scope out any possible constellations. You’d never had a chance to notice it before, but this was a Nevada kind of view, which made you think of a moment five years earlier where you were lying in the great expanse of desert beneath the stars, watching Sam’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept, swiping at the mosquitos whenever they got too close.

You weren’t all that aware of it, but your entire face stretched into a tired smile, making your cheeks ache. Goddamn, I love cocaine.

The next moments passed in a blink: suddenly the sun was rising, and you were at the station again, and you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten a ticket in your hands but you were already carrying your things onto the train, and vaguely acting sober, you stumbled into the first empty carriage you saw, all while your body didn’t feel like your own and you were simply a spectator to your own activities.

Which, honestly, you preferred. You had no fucking time to regret any of this.

//////

“Y/N?” John shouted, shining a flashlight down the long, empty hallway of the old Lee house. He’d stomped in there the minute the car had rolled into the field, so fast and panicked that he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights, meaning the house was shrouded in darkness. “Y/N!”

“Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see her at the train station?” he heard Esme snap at some Blinder waiting outside.

“Why would I lie for the fuckin’ Garrison rat?” John heard him reply before he stepped out of range, and scowling, he burst into the bedroom Esme had said you’d slept in days ago.

It was stripped bare, not even your scent had been left behind, like you’d never been inside the room in the first place, which only made the dread crawling down his back worse.

You’re a fucking knobhead, John scolded himself, pivoting on his heel to exit the room. A fucking knobhead, you know that? What kind of husband has their wife walk out on them?

Regretting his excessive drinking and smoking, sleeping in his office, booking his favourite whore at Zhang’s, and avoiding his wife like the plague, John ran back onto the field with his knuckles aching to kill something.

He took his cap off to smooth his hair back. “She’s not there.”

“‘Course she’s not,” Esme said resignedly.

“Where the fuck would she had gone?” John shouted at her, resisting the urge to grab her and violently shake her, purely to keep the peace between the families. “Esme, did she tell you any place that she was wanting to go?”

Esme opened her mouth and closed it.

“London,” she whispered back, her eyes wide. “She told me she wanted to go to London.”

“London!” he yelled in disbelief, whipping around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“The trains start early in the morning,” she bit out, twisting her hands together. The Blinder beside her was staring at her, wide-eyed, as though trying to find a way to insert himself into the conversation, but both she and John ignored him. “John, if we can’t find her, that means she already went.”

Unadulterated rage swept through him, bitter and blinding, but John choked it down. “Fuck.”

Ducking out of the way so they wouldn’t see his glossy eyes, he started to stomp away. “Get back in the fucking car.”

//////

London was sprawling and gleaming when the train noisily rolled into the station, and in your threadbare, dirt-stained skirt and cardigan, you felt like you weren’t expensive-looking enough to fit in.

No matter, you told yourself, but the voice in your head was much too pleasant and lacking the predisposed anxiety and misery to truly sound like yourself. You can simply buy new clothes.

Plus, you already knew you weren’t planning on staying in London for long anyway.

You hummed a quiet but hopeful folk song you’d first heard at the Garrison to yourself as you retrieved your things from the compartment, your heart already pounding hard with excitement at the thought of leaving the train. As you hummed out what little lyrics you could remember, a pang of sadness hit your gut for the first time since you’d snorted cocaine: you’d miss Grace, but you were happy her beautiful voice had become engraved in your memory.

Her voice was yours to keep forever.

Smiling, you carried your bags through the narrow hallway and descended the train.

And sweet Jesus, the air of London smelled like the most refreshing summer breeze simply because of the absence of manure and furnace smoke. The station was still overcrowded with people, which normally would have alarmed you had you been sober, but this time you didn’t even care, it almost felt like you had snorted another few lines of cocaine as you waded through the onslaught of people, a dumb grin plastered on your face.

Girl, you are high as balls.

You caught sight of a husband waiting at the gate with a bouquet of flowers for his approaching wife, and quickly glanced away. You didn’t need anything like that to bother you right now.

“Airport?” you asked aimlessly to the people around you. “Does anyone know how to get to the airport from here?”

After a minute or two of wandering around and shouting among the onslaught of people, a man not much older than Tommy Shelby finally turned around.

“Airport?” he asked, squinting down at you. “You’ll need to go to Croydon.”

“Where is that?” you asked sweetly, layering on the Americana glitter in your charming Garrison rat voice, batting your eyelids at him. “It’s my first time in London, you see.”

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I can take you there, miss, for a fee. I’ll carry your things for you.”

“How much quid?” you asked absent-mindedly, peering down into your bag to find your change. “I can give you, uh, maybe twenty-”

“I’m not talking about money,” he cut in, and your head snapped up like a deer in headlights. How dare he, knowing that you had a very expensive wedding ring glistening on your fing–

You stopped yourself.

You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

It was rolling around somewhere in the depths of your bag.

Time seemed to slow down and your heart pounded even faster, cocaine influence or not, but what shocked you the most was the odd sense of relief, making the ugly scar stretching across the length of your abdomen tingle.

Men still desired you.

With your head slightly spinning and the residue feeling of your body not being your own anymore, it was the most chilling reminder that you weren’t sober: you suspected that in any other state of mind, you would feel differently about this, but right now you didn’t care.

Wasn’t the whole point of coming to London that you didn’t want to feel chained by the Shelbys anymore?

“Take me there,” you heard yourself say after what felt like a century, and the man’s grin widened. “Of course, ma’am.”

Please protect me, God, a voice whispered in the depths of your mind, and accepting his outstretched hand, you let him guide you out of your train station.

//////

Tommy Shelby pushed the heavy mahogany doors of the Garrison open with a flourish, stepped into the pub, and promptly bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Everybody out!”

It had been bad enough losing his own love to a mind-boggingly similar situation two months ago, but Christ, how likely was it for John boy to go through the same goddamned thing? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed. What had gotten into the women of today? Was this something he seriously had to be worried about?

The few number of patrons at 11 AM on a Wednesday morning quickly made themselves scarce with a frightened look on their faces, and for the first time that morning, Tommy had a chance to sigh before he approached the confused and frightened barmaids behind the bar.

After Grace, he felt a deep inner hatred more intensely than he had before her, and this morning was no exception.

“Have you seen Y/N Lee around these parts in the past few weeks, ladies? Y/N Shelby? The Garrison rat?”

The two barmaids looked at each other, puzzled, and one opened her mouth but promptly closed it.

“You,” Tommy said, pouncing on her. “Did you see the Garrison rat at all?”

“I…uh….” she stuttered, and Tommy cocked his head in anticipation for her words. Where was the easy grace that all of the barmaids seemed to have whenever a Blinder visited? “I…”

The barmaid gulped and stared at the floor. “She came in here once, lookin’ like a mess, and said she was getting out of here that night.”

“What kind of mess was she?” he pressed, leaning forward. “Drunk? Sniffing snow?”

“She - she was covered in blood,” the barmaid choked out, and he recognized the telltale signs of an anxiety attack as she started shaking. “Covered in blood. And vomit. And dirt. And twigs. And she had this…crazed look in her eyes. None of the drunks have it, so I knew she wasn’t drunk. She meant what she was saying with a burning passion. She wanted somebody dead.”

Tommy thought back to the night that pathetic boy was killed, the way he’d wailed and screamed and cried as John pummelled him. It had been a real mess when you’d ran off like that, and there was no signs that you’d even been bothered until before then.

He eyed the other barmaid, who was pale as a ghost.

“Go make a drink for your friend,” he told her. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Edith,” the sniffling barmaid replied, staring at the floor.

“Edith,” Tommy repeated. “Well, Edith, thank you for your time, but I’m afraid that the Garrison rat has fulfilled her promise as of this morning.”

With a haunting sort of finality, he replaced his cap and turned on his heel to exit the Garrison.

//////

“Fuck!”

Before John could stop it, a long, frustrated, angry scream ripped out of his throat, and it was so loud within the confined space of his office that it made his own ears ring. He was the only one here now, and it had been that way for an hour: the rest of the family had gone out looking for his wife.

His vision suddenly blurry with tears, he punched his desk over and over again, screaming at the top of his lungs, his hands stinging, his heart pounding, everything spiralling out of control at once. All of his emotions had been pushed as far as they could possibly go ever since he woke up, and at 4 PM in the afternoon, this was the only opportunity he’d had to let them out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

John felt blood trickling down his knuckles and he finally stopped, cursing, hating himself. Why did he have to be like this? He would feel nothing but indifference for weeks on end until it all came rushing out of him like an avalanche.

Well, some part of him knew this explosion was warranted. It was forever frustrating being back to square one: without a wife, without a stepmother to take care of his kids, without love and painfully aware that he was without Martha.

It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but it was the first time the feeling seared through his chest like a volcano erupting: he’d wished he’d never had kids.

“Why am I so stupid?” John shouted at himself in the thick silence. “Fucking hell, why am I so fucking stupid?”

Get it out, some type of comforting voice told him in the back of his head. Get it all fucking out.

His knuckles were pouring blood now, screaming for bandages, but John leapt from his chair and shoved everything off his desk in a giant sweep.

He picked up an empty vase behind him and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, where it exploded in a shower of glass.

He ripped open all the cabinets of his desk and yanked out all of the files, lobbing them at the wall, throwing them on the ground, tearing them in half, and when that wasn’t enough, he lifted his office chair and pounded it into the ground as violently as he could.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

He couldn’t even remember when he’d started screaming anymore, but his throat was raw as he lobbed the splintered, broken pieces of the chair at the wall.

His hands were covered in blood, and he had a sobering feeling that maybe he should stop now, but no matter how self-destructive he was being, the rage was addicting, and he was throwing various detritus from the wreckage as hard as he could at the wall. The rush of pain flooding to his knuckles was almost gratifying— thank God, he could still feel things. Even if he was feeling too much, he was feeling, and that was good.

Tears were streaming down his face, and when he tried to inhale through his nose, his nostrils were blocked with snot, but he couldn’t stop. His entire face was red from overexertion and his hands were bleeding and he couldn’t stop shaking and he couldntfuckingbreathe, like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum, and—

If his throat was raw when he’d had the energy to destroy things, it was nothing like how it felt now. “Fuck!”

Maybe this is how Y/N felt when she saw me kill that monarchist fucker, John thought dumbly, and he sank to his knees in his demolished mess of an office, a tide of regret crashing through him unlike anything before.

This feeling hit him like it was trying to kill him.

//////

The car was parked in the parking lot of the airport, and it hadn’t moved for the past ten minutes.

It was cramped, uncomfortable, and questionably damp, but the man who’d driven you there-- Billy, you’d since learned his name was-- wouldn’t buy the plane ticket for you until you gave him your payment, and you had nothing left to lose. With Paris being a hefty cheque away, a daring trip that you could just barely afford, you had weighed your options and promptly decided fuck it, just get it over with.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his length before pulling back to suck the tip, darting your tongue around it, producing the filthiest slurping sounds he’d ever heard as you bobbed around him. He wasn’t longer than John, but a little thicker, and it was an interesting change to feel how his cock felt in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Billy murmured, weaving a hand through your hair as you swiped his cock over your wet lips, teasing it over your warm mouth, smearing your red lipstick further down your chin. “Fuck, just like that - gonna - fuck-”

He came fast with barely a warning, warm droplets of come spilling onto your tongue. Knowing you were almost done, you wrapped a hand around his length to jerk him off, gulping him down as best you could while he kept his hand tight in your hair, ensuring that you swallowed every last bit.

Saltier, you noted. Well, that’s a bit disgusting.

//////

He had her on her back so he wouldn’t have to look at her, but it was still so hard to pretend that she was someone else: the dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders that looked nothing like her hair, the breathy little moans that fell from her lips that sounded nothing like hers, even the way her pussy squeezed his cock, they were all dead giveaways that she wasn’t who John desperately wanted her to be. And no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn’t be.

“Oh, God,” Esme moaned, grabbing the headboard to keep herself from falling over as John fucked into her just a little bit harder, and his hand was wrapped around her neck before he even registered it being there.

“Shut up.”

She wasn’t listening.

“Fuck, John, I’m gonna-” –With one hand on the headboard, she was furiously rubbing her clit now– “I think I’m gonna - oh fuck -”

She collapsed from underneath him as her orgasm rushed through her body, but in a split-second he’d yanked her upright by her hair, back to her original position, except her arms were pinned behind her back.

This was about control.

Fucking her even harder now, his voice was furious in her ear as he whispered:

“Next time you come, you’re gonna ask for my permission, yeah?”

//////

Paris was golden.

Golden and full of pickpockets, that was for sure. The one drawback of such a fashionable, progressive city, you had to keep a tight hold on your purse as you made your way to the closest bar, or the bar à cocktails, as you frequently heard the locals call it.

Three months into living in Paris, you fit right in with the people born and raised here: they tended to go all out in comparison to Birmingham, their wardrobes were fashionable, flashy, and fancy to the point where a floor-length dress, your most expensive pearl necklace, and a glittery headband had become your drinking attire. You couldn’t imagine the stares had you worn the Garrison rat’s usual outfit of trousers and a blouse anywhere in Paris.

So, when it came down to it, you didn’t mind being bold, not at all. It was the années folles, after all, and life was good.

The same way British slang had slowly seeped into your vocabulary when you were an American trapped in Birmingham, your accent was starting to change the longer you stayed in Paris. Words like “quid” and “fucking hell” were slowly starting to disappear in your internal monologue, instead being replaced with “franc” and “merde”. Eventually, your American accent wrapped around the French words you spoke with a kind of ease, your thoughts came to you in French more than they did in English, and it dawned on you one day that you couldn’t have imitated the sweetness of the Garrison rat’s voice if you tried.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less. Maybe it was for the better.

You gently pushed open the glass door to the bar and, smoothing your dress, walked inside.

Lilting jazz, warm golden light, quiet conversation, respectful barmaids, a wide array of bottles at the bar, and best of all, sparsely populated. You loved coming to this place— you were already a couple of shots in, of course, but you enjoyed the French stuff.

You carefully sat down on your usual barstool to the left of the barmaid and calmly told her, “Comme d’habitude.”

She nodded without looking at you, emotionless. “Pas de problème.”

You settled back onto the stool, content to think about nothing for a moment as your drink was being made, but you sensed him approaching you before you saw him. Even though you had to tell yourself that you weren’t the Garrison rat anymore, that mysterious charm hadn’t been lost on the men of Paris, clearly.

The new man— dark hair, gray eyes, nothing remarkable — sat on the stool to your direct left, with the kind of forced confidence that immediately told you he had to practice it before coming over to sit with you, and you refused to look at him.

The barmaid slid a shot over to you, and the mysterious new man held up his hand, as though to intercept you from paying. “Je vais le payer.”

Looking anywhere but his face, you didn’t stop him as he handed over a fistful of coins to the barmaid.

Why should you? It was free drinks. That was welcomed in Las Vegas, New York City, Small Heath, and Paris.

As the barmaid walked away to attend to a new customer, his attention was on you now.

“Vous venez souvent dans ce bar.”

It was a statement, not a question. You looked at him, your face completely blank, and said nothing.

He smirked at you. “Vous aimez cette musique, oui? Le jazz est toujours beau. Bon pour danser.”

When you still said nothing, growing slightly frustrated now, he asked, “Quelle est votre histoire?”

You scoffed, and finally decided to speak.

“C’est une longue histoire. Une trop longue histoire. La seule chose que je sais, c’est que je ne tomberai plus jamais en amour, donc si vous pensez m’inviter à danser, n’essaie pas.”

The man looked at you for a long moment, before getting up from the stool and walking away— wordless, the kind of complicated look on his face that you didn’t understand. And it pissed you off, really, not understanding why he had the audacity to look hurt.

With the drunken blurriness of your vision, as the man retreated into the distance, his silhouette seemed to be absorbed by the gleaming, golden light, and you let out a low sigh of relief as you were left alone again. Alone with your thoughts.

You turned back to the bar and found yourself lost in the murky depths of your drink that he’d paid for. Through the haze, you blearily noticed that you’d started thinking in English again. Blunt and short sentences, but still: English.

I’m never going to love again.

//////

AUGUST 1920 - SMALL HEATH, BIRMINGHAM

I’m never going to love again, thought John as he stared moodily across the length of the merry Garrison. Grace may not have been there anymore, but the roaring folk songs every night had remained in her memory, and someone had clearly written a new one for the drunks to sing.

The only person there that wasn’t singing, John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to act as though there weren’t any horribly-concealed glances in his direction every few minutes. Though, as time went on, they were becoming lesser and lesser, the Garrison rat was disappearing into a mythical woman that belonged to the folklore of Small Heath. Honestly, in the months without her, sometimes it was hard to believe that she had ever truly lived.

The song roared on.

“Oh, the Garrison rat, the Garrison rat, she left at twilight and we haven’t seen her since that…”

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #joe cole #john shelby x y/n #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray

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imaginesforeveryone · 3 months

Text

Openning Night

John Shelby x Y/N

Summary: It was re-opening night for the biggest Pub in small heath and you planned to make it a night to remember after getting out of a long shitty relationship

Warnings: drinking, swearing, smut, flirting

“Come on Y/N we’re going to be late!” You heard Elisa, your best friend, yelling from across the house to you. But you weren’t even close to being ready. Still laid in your bed.

“Y/N Come on. Stop mopping. He isn’t worth it. He’s a bloody asshole that doesn’t deserve your tears. Aye?” She said moving the strand of hair that stuck to your check from you crying so much.

“But what if he’s there? I don’t want to see him Elisa!” You said pouting, turning over and putting a pillow over your face.

“Then I’ll kick his ass and send him back to wherever his stupid ass came from. Now come on, get up and let’s get you sexy! Never know maybe one of them Peaky boys will see you.” She said smacking you in the butt and pulling you up. You giggled slightly trying not to show any other emotion than sadness, but it was hard to with her. Going to your closet you got out this beautiful black dress you had been saving for your 4 year anniversary with your ex, but obviously that did not pan out as you planned. Slipping the dress over your body and helping it settle into all your curves and smoothing it out. You went over to the mirror that sat up against your wall and looked yourself up and down. Noticing the darkness your eyes held from so much crying. You sat down at your desk with your make up, perfume, and your journal laid on. Putting on some make up to cover your eyes.

“Holy fuck!” You heard from behind you.

“You look. HOT!” Elisa said looking at you. You rolled you eyes and gave a small smirk.

“Now come on.” She said grabbing your hand and yanking you up and out of your room. Grabbing your purse before leaving out the front door.

Making your way down the streets of small heath as everyone walked aside you and Elisa going probably to the same big event in the small town you lived in. Finally making your way to the doors of the new and improved Garrison. Walking in and being blinded by all the gold in the place. So much different than what it used to be. Beautiful but different. Small heath was not a beautiful place. But hopefully this can bring some beauty to it.

“Come on. Let’s get a drink in you!” Elisa said pulling you towards the bar.

“Two gins please.” She said with confidence and began looking around the room.

“We really need to travel. Its always then same men in here and im quite tired of it. I need me someone hot. But London hot, not small heath hot. You know what I mean?” Elisa went on and on about the men in this town. Taking down the gin that was set in front of you and asking for another.

“May I have everyone attention please!” You heard a voice across the room.

“LISTEN THE FUCK UP!!!” You heard an even louder voice yell.

“Now that I have your attention. Thank you all for coming out to the grand re-opening of the Garrison.” You looked over to see who was speaking and it was the one and only Thomas Shelby. The leader of the Peaky Blinders. You were dumb if you lived in Small Heath and didn’t know who the Peaky Blinders were. There was Arthur Shelby, the eldest and formally the head of the family. Then there was Thomas Shelby the middle child who had held the power now of the family. Then there was John Shelby. The most beautiful of them all, at least in your eyes. Those cheek bones, those beautiful eyes, that jaw line. Gosh did it have you feeling some type of way just thinking about it. And there he sat, just inches from Thomas who spoke standing on top of one of the tables. You honestly did not hear a word that was spoken. Just keened in on John as he sat there listening to his brother, with a tooth pick in his mouth that he moved side to side with his tongue between different parts of his mouth. Oh, what you could only imagine he could do with his mouth. Noticing he looked away from Thomas to speak to Arthur who sat next to him. Seeing his eyes wonder around the room looking in every direction like he was making sure no harm came their way, but eventually meeting with yours. With a small smirk and a wink coming from him you broke eye contact with him quickly in embarrassment.

“See now, if there could be more Shelby’s to go around that’s the man id want to wake up next to in the morning.” Elisa said. She noticed you looking a little red.

“Oh what did I miss. Why are you blushing?” She asked turning towards you and taking a sip from her drink.

“Uhm, I may or may have not just been staring at one of the Peaky Boys and got caught staring at him by him, and he may or may not of just eye fucked me a little.” You said quickly and downed your drink and quickly getting another.

“OOOOO!! Which one? Arthur? He older but, he isn’t bad looking. That mustache is a bit much sometimes but, I bet he has figured out ways to do crazy things with that or was it Thomas, because damn girl get it while you can. You can be the queen of small heath, maybe even London one day. OR , OR Was it John. Aw. John He’s adorable. a fucking badass, but super adorable.” She asked with her crazy personality as usual.

“Hello there ladies.” You heard a voice from behind you. You turned around and were you that drunk already that you were hallucinating? Is John Shelby ACTUALLY talking to right now.

“Im John.” He said with a smirk on his face and looking right at you. Even looking you up and down.

“Elisa.” Elisa said breaking the silence.

“Nice to meet you Elisa.” John said shaking her had.

“And you are?” John said looking at you with is hand out.

“Y/N.” You said with a slight voice crack out of being nervous.

“Hello, Y/N.” He said with his signature smile that made all the women melt in their shoes. Taking your hand and kissing the top of it.

“HELLO LADIES!!” Arthur said stumbling over to you guys, and slicking his hair back with his hands.

“And who is this beautiful young lady?” He said looking at Elisa and taking her hand in his.

“Elisa, and you are Arthur Shelby, and you’d like to dance.” She said taking his hand and leading him to the middle of the room.

“A women after me own heart.” Arthur said following her. You giggled slightly before looking back at John who seemed to still be looking at you.

“Gin?” He asked looking down at your empty cup and you just smiled and shook your head.

“Bottle of gin, bottle of whiskey at the window.” He said to the bartender. He took your hand in his and lead the way to the infamous Shelby booth.

“Out. ” He said to the men and women sitting in there. they scrambled before he could get the whole word out. Nervous, you sat down as he grabbed the two bottles and shut the small door.

“Don’t be nervous love. Just here for a good time, and maybe some small talk.” John said sitting down in the chair across from you.

“Tell me something about yourself Y/N.” He said lighting a cigarette and watching you closely.

You and John talked for what felt like a few hours. He was funny, charming, sexy. You didn’t realize the time till it became somewhat silent in the place. Only noticing because John and you weren’t talking as loudly.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how late it was. Sorry for keeping you so long.” You said to John before standing up and smoothing out your dress a bit but falling over your feet a bit. John catching you slightly to stand you up right.

“Sorry about that. Apparently I drank a little more than I thought.” You said with a slight giggle at the end.

“Love, you finished the whole bottle.” He said sitting you down.

“Well, I guess that’s what happens when you have good conversations with a good man aye?” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“Oh what a wonderful night. Thank you Mr. Shelby for having me. But, I think I should probably find Elisa, and go home.” You said sitting up, then standing up, kind of wobbly at first, but catching your balance quickly.

“Darling let me walk you home. I don’t want you walking home alone. Lots a of bad people out there.” He said grabbing your hand.

“But aren’t you supposed to be bad people to?” You asked turning to look at him. Knowing well that was not right of you to say, but it kind of just came out, like word vomit.

“Oh I’m bad people love, but only to other bad people.” He said caressing your cheek.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home. Elisa went with Arthur, so don’t worry about her. She’s safe.” He said taking your hand, and grabbing your purse off the table. You followed him out of the room and into the main floor where you saw a few men laying on the floor passed out and some in the booths. You walked out the front doors of the Garrison and felt the cool breeze on your skin causing you to shudder a little. John took notice of this and took his jacket off.

“Oh no, Im okay John.” You said pushing his hand away.

“Wow, stop being stubborn.” He said wrapping the jacket over your shoulders. You grabbed the sides of it to pull it tight around your body for extra warmth, and breathing in the musk of the jacket that was Johns. You smiled at the thought of a Peaky boy taking care of you and thinking back to what Elisa said earlier.

“John.” You said as you walked through an alley.

“Yes?” He said looking over at you and making eye contact. Before you could say anything else, an overwhelming spark of confidence came over you leading you to push him up against the wall and attack his lips. Smelling his whiskey drenched breathe as his breathing got heavy from not being able to breath through the kisses. Taking your face in his large hands and roughly pushing the kiss deeper. Tongues intertwined with yours, bitting and sucking on his lip bottom lip. You just couldn’t control it. Was it because he was a Shelby. You never had such a strong man embrace you in the way he did. Lifting you off your feet and putting you up against the other building in the alley.

“John.” You said between the heated make out session.

“What?” He said still going at your lips.

“I don’t, remember where I live.” You said as he caressed and squeezed you ass that he held you up by.

“That’s okay come on.” He said with one last kiss, setting you down and dragging you down the alley, causally stopping to kiss you again. Stopping at a beautiful building, that you honestly have never seen before. You didn’t really ever come over to this side of town because you were too nervous to go into peaky territory by yourself. John unlocking the door as quick as he could and grabbing you to come in. Throwing you up onto a table that apparently had a lot of glass on it hearing it crash down.

“Shit.” You said, before John grabbed your face and started attacking your lips again.

“Its fine. Who gives a fuck.” He said taking off his vest and throwing it across the room. Smiling through the kisses you kicked your heels off under neath John, and started to fumble with your dress trying to get it off. Getting flustered John took over just ripped the front of your dress straight down the middle making you gasp and look up at him with an upset expression.

“I will buy you a new one. A better one.” He said with a giggle. Getting off the table with your now torn dress hanging off of you, you pushed John backwards towards the chair that sat behind him. He fell back into it slouched down into it, staring up at you through his eye lashes, very seductivly. You slipped your dress off letting it pool at your feet, leaving you in just your panties stood in front of John. Leaning down and grabbing the collar of his shirt and tearing down the from making all the buttons pop off.

“I’ll buy you a new one. A better one.” You whispered to him with a giggle as you mocked him. An evil smile spreading across his face. Swiftly standing up and picking you up all in the same movement.

Man was he fast, no wonder he was one of the most feared men by his enemies.

He made his way up the stairs, and kicked open the door on the right it was pretty dark in the room except for the moon shining brightly thought the huge, tall windows. Throwing you on the bed and hovering over you like a lion about to attack a gazelle. Unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes. He pulled down his pants along with his boxers, releasing the very long, but thick beast he had hiding away. Your eyes becoming wide and thinking how you’re going to fit that inside of you.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll be gentle.” He said with a wink and a beautiful smile. Grabbing him to fall down on top of you, but him catching himself gracefully with his hand on either side of you head.

“Maybe I don’t want gentle. Maybe I want that Peaky boy everyone is so afraid of.” You said in hushed ton. He raised an eyebrow, and your saw the fire start in his eyes. Almost making you a little afraid, but excited. Sitting up and stretching out his very firm and wide shoulders. He quickly moved to you panties and pulled them off. Pushing you further up the bed all in one swift move, he was between your legs with his hands spreading them apart, making sure you couldn’t close them.

“You sure you want this love?” He asked looking up at you from between you legs. You smiled and shook you head. With that he attacked you clit making you gasp loudly and taking the blanket you laid on top in your fists.

“Fuck.” You let out with the little breath you had in your lungs. As he dragged his perfect tongue up and down your very wet slit and coming back up to suck on you sensitive nub, with that making you feel your stomach into a knot.

“John. Fuck. Fuck. Im going to cum.” You gasped out. As he sucked on your clit he came off of it making you cry out.

“OH no no love. You want me to fuck you like the Peaky I am. Then you have to listen like the Peaky I am.” He said looking up at you.

“No cumming till I say.” He said right before he attacked you clit again. Feeling his tongue slip inside of you, making it 10 times harder to hold on to your orgasm.

“John. Please let me cum. Please” You cried out to him as you took his hair in your hand. He didn’t say a word just kept going. Moaning out so loud that half of small heath probably heard you.

“Go ahead baby. Cum all ver my mouth.” He said as he grabbed ahold of your thighs so you couldn’t wiggle away. Attack at your clit again sending you over the edge almost immediatly. Feeling your legs shake but being held in place.

“Fuck, John.” You said coming down off you orgasm. Feeling hands on your sides and then feeling lips attacking yours, tasting yourself on them.

“I think I don’t want to be a Peaky boy to you. I just want to be John to you tonight.” He whispered to you. You smiled, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him into a deeper kiss. Flipping him over onto his back and straddling him the tip of his cock brushing at your opening. He stared up at you for a second before reaching between you and rubbing his tip against you.

“You ready love?” He asked looking into your eyes for confirmation.

“Please.” You whined out wanting it more than anything in this moment. Slowly he slipped inside of you causing you to gasp out and lift up almost making him slip out, but not before he grabbed your hips.

“Nu Uh, love. You can’t get away from me.” He said causing you to get drenched even more than you already were. Slowly sinking yourself down on him and adjusting to his girth. You were ready for him. Starting to bounce up and down on him, you could see him melting just a little bit.

“Fuck Y/N you’re so tight. So wet.” He gasped out. He lifted you up and slamming you down on him, over and over again.

“John. Can I.. i.”

“Cum baby. All over my cock.” He said out knowing what you wanted. With that you released and felt your insides pulsate around him, making your orgasm even more intense. You felt him start to get a little shakey, know what that meant. You leaned down and attacked his neck. Getting right in his sweet spot.

“Cum Johnny. Cum inside of me Mr. Shelby.” You whispered to him. As you said it he grabbed ahold of your shoulder and pushed down on your lower back making himself go deeper inside of you, making you gasp out at how much of him was inside of you. Feeling his hot cum fill you up as he twitched inside of you slightly. He let out a labored breathe letting go of you to relax his arms and his body.

“God damn love. Haven’t had sex like that in I don’t know how long.” He said laying his arms out on the bed. Rolling off of him and laying on the bed with your head on his arm.

“Believe me, I didn’t even know what it was like to cum like that. Ever.” You laughed out. You sat up grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around yourself.

“I should probably go.” You said looking down at John and his glistening body.

“Wait what?” He said sitting up.

“I figured this was just a hit it and go type thing. I don’t want to stay where I’m not welcomed.” You said with a sad smirk and turning around, but feeling a hand catch yours and spin you around into an embrace.

“If I didn’t want you to stay, I wouldn’t have brought you into my home.” He said looking around. You dropped the sheet that you had wrapped around you and stood on your tip toes to peck a kiss on his lips. He smiled as you pulled away and pulled you back into the bed wrapping his arms around you like you were the most precious diamond he’d ever had and slowly drifting to sleep in his arms.

#John Shelby #Joe Cole #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby xY/N #peaky blinders #imagine #imagines

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