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#john shelby x you
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Tiny Shelby Feet - A John Shelby/Reader Short Story.
Just a fluffy lil' short that came to me this morning, besties. Hope you love it :)
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Words - 700
Warnings - None. Fluff a' plenty!
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
No, you absolutely are not alright. And it’s all his fault.  
Being angry at him isn’t an option, though, because he’s always so good to you. Hell, it was him being very good to you that got you into this in the first place, your stomach swollen and rounded with the next Shelby offspring due to arrive into the family in the next couple of days.  
You toss and turn a little more, albeit slowly, heaving your bulk to lie on your back. “I can’t get comfortable.”  
“Bet ya can’t, bab. Can’t even imagine what it’s like,” he speaks softly, removing one of the pillows from beneath his head. “Lift up.” Pushing yourself up, he slides it beneath your lower back, the downy plumpness soothing against your aching back. “What is it like, though? Is there anything it’s similar to that I’d understand?” 
It’s sweet of him to even want to try and comprehend the feeling of being pregnant, at least. “Imagine if somebody gave you a gallon of Epsom salts and sewed your arsehole up.”  
His eyes bulge. “Jesus fuckin’ wept. That don’t sound like fun.” Those eyes continue to widen when he sees you beginning to wince through gritted teeth. “Ain’t coming, is he?”  
“No, no it’s a cramp in my thigh.” 
“Left or right?” 
“Left.” Your instruction has him reaching beneath the bedcovers, beginning to massage said thigh, the tightened muscles finally relenting within the grasp of his warm, skillful hands. Bloody John Shelby and his skillful hands. Again, it’s how you ended up like this in the first place. “Okay, that’s better now. Thanks, love.” 
He props himself up on an elbow, hand lovingly stroking your bump, smiling as he feels his unborn child wriggling beneath his palm. You still remember the day you felt those first kicks, running down to the betting shop and grabbing his hand so he could feel them, too. You’ll never forget how lit up he looked at the sensation of tiny feet nudging against his big hand. “Who do you think he’ll look like most, you or me?” 
You can’t help yourself. “Me, hopefully.” 
“Oi, you cheeky mare!” Desired effect achieved. “I suppose it’d be better. I know I’m handsome, but we don’t want two freckled ginger nuts in the house.” 
“I really hope she has your hair, and your freckles,” you speak, putting extra emphasis on the word she. ”You know I love your freckles." 
“Fuck off,” he mutters, batting your hand away from where your finger trails over his shoulder. 
“Oi, no violence! I’m carrying your daughter!” 
“Son!” he corrects with a pointed finger. “You’re carrying me son. No girls, they’re too much headache for my liking.”  
“Poor thing’ll likely never see the outside of the house until she’s eighteen,” you chuckle, stroking your bump lovingly. 
He snorts, curling his lip slightly. “And the fucking rest! Ain’t having no boys round her, oh no, none of that malarkey.” He then lifts his chin a little, nodding to your rounded belly. “That is if it’s even a girl in the first place, and I’m still saying it’s a boy.”  
You smile, your eyes growing tired, yawning right on cue. Finally comfortable, you’re able to settle, drifting off to the rhythmic stroke of John’s hand over your belly. He thinks you’ve nodded off, unaware that you can hear every word he whispers to your unborn child.  
“Don’t even matter to me, you know, what you are,” he speaks softly, leaning to lay a kiss just above your protruded belly button. “I’ll love you until the last beat of my heart. I will. Anything you want, it’s yours. You ain’t gonna grow up poor and scratching around to make ends meet like we all had to. I’m gonna be a proper dad to you, little’un.” 
You can feel a lump in your throat form thickly, smiling on the inside as you drift into slumber. It’s nothing compared to two days later, though, when you see John holding your newborn son in his arms for the first time, his eyes filled with happy tears. Or, when five minutes later, you birth the twin sister nobody knew you carried, too.  
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zablife · 8 months
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Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy
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John x female reader
Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?
Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.
Warnings: language, mention of smut
🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.
"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.
💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.
❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.
🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"
"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.
"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"
💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.
"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.
❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."
"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.
"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.
"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.
🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."
💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"
"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."
❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.
"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.
"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.
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Tag List:
@peakyswritings
@evita-shelby
@shelbydelrey
@alanadetigy
@wandawiccan60 
@severewobblerlightdragon
@lovemissyhoneybee
@theshelbyslimited
@kittycatcait219
@callsign-fangirl
@christinasyellowflowers
@notyour-valentine
@theshelbyclan
@polishcrazyone
@elenavampire21
@little-diable
@lyarr24
@jomarch-wannabe
@the-fangirl-diaries
@kmc1989
@everythingelseisextra
@stilestotherescue 
@helen06dreamer
@chaosinkest1996 
@pietroxreader
@darklydeliciousdesires
@raincoffeeandfandoms
@cillmequick
@runnning-outof-time
@dandelionprints
@peakyltd
@call-sign-shark
@brummiereader
@holacia3
@kmhappybunny240
@mgcldydrms
@mythos-writes
@look-at-the-soul
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runnning-outof-time · 8 months
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Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!
Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
Wasn’t Expecting You
John Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: language
Word Count: 707
Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.
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“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.
“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”
“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.
“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”
(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.
“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.
“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.
“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.
“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.
(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.
Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.
“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”
“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”
Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.
Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.
“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.
“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”
“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.
“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.
“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.
“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.
“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.
“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.
“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.
“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.
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*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent
MASTERLIST
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kaivenom · 4 months
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How the Peaky Blinders' boys dance with you
Masterlist
(All of the dances mentioned are real popular dances from the 20's, there are videos from youtube with original records if you want to check how they are)
Tommy Shelby
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He doesn't ussually dance, he prefers to see you dancing and be on the corner of the room, just observing totally stunned.
The only time when he dances with you is when he needs to move around the place without raising suspicions or when you insist on it and later make him feel bad about leaving you on the dance floor.
His favourite thing to dance with you and probably the only thing is Fox-trot.
He always demands the band to change to jazz so you both could dance to the smooth and graceful rythm.
He dances slow and always looking everyone, checking that nobody does anything stupid while he is enjoying time with his partner, so everytime you need to remind him to look at you.
You can almost confirm he likes the music by the way his body swings next to yours, his fingers conecting with yours while his other hand travel firmly to your back.
John Shelby
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He is a natural party person, he likes to be around and drink with everyone, but mostly he likes to dance.
And what better partner to dance that his partner itself, he always drags you to the dance floor for hours.
With all that energy and craziness his perfect dance for you both is Charleston, obviously.
The movements he does are the perfect definition of the dance, exuberant and wild.
You sometimes have trouble keeping his pace but it's always fun... and exhausting.
When he sense you are starting to feel tired, he goes to get a drink or accompanies you to take some air.
But don't be fooled, he probably drags you to the dance floor again later, at least he tries to dance things more slow.
You probably need another day without the kids to recover from the dance night.
Arthur Shelby
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He is not good at dancing, he doesn't have sense of rythm so you both can't dance anything classified.
So, you go to simple dances like the Shimmy, with that you reassure him that he won't fool himself in front of other, which means a lot to him.
So, the Shimmy became your safe choice and make him want to go with you to dance.
When he tries new dance moves, everyone thinks that he is making new charleston move or that he is is drunk, usually the second one.
But at the end maybe it's not all dancing but it's surely very funny.
Michael Gray
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He likes to make a show, he likes to show you off to everyone who has eyes.
Making it sensual and provocative is his passion so Tango is a must everytime you go out.
His body pressing against yours, his hands traveling to places very innapropiate to the society.
He always tells you to show your attributes to the him, which means the room, and that means to do move your legs and entangle it around him.
He also uses the dancing to assert dominance towards you and some times make you desire him.
Finn Shelby
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He isn't very good at dancing but obviously not as bad as his older brother.
When the charleston stopped being trendy, he discovered the Black Bottom, just a little before everyone does.
So, when he starts dancing it in the pubs you were amazed, it was the perfect dance to hide his disorganized moves, but you were incredible stunned by it and rapidly asked him to show you.
In a couple of night out you both were the star couple of dancing but the dance was still new and nobody else did it.
A couple of months later and the Black Bottom was a trend, not thanks to both of you but now you don't need to ask for the music ... cause it's already playing whan you enter the pub.
It's funny and stimulating, probably because of both of you being really clumsy while moving.
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venusisaligned · 2 months
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“fuck gangsters”
yeah i might.
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wonderlanddreamer · 3 months
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Reader POV.
Bite me, John Shelby - " Wait, I didn't mean literally!" 18+ Only.
Rough Desires - Tommy is always gentle with you, but you crave something with more ferocity. 18+ Only.
His Serenity - After Alfie has a bad day, you help him find peace in your own, sensual way. 18+ Only.
The Stable Girl's Sacrifice - Tommy Shelby is forced to confront his feelings when you take a bullet meant for him.
Buried - Buried beneath the earth, Tommy's only hope lies in your relentless determination to bring him back.
Sleep vs. Sex - Tommy wakes you up in the middle of the night because he needs you. 18+ Only.
Lean On Me - When you're hurt during an incident at the Garrison, it's Tommy who notices and takes care of you.
Head Over Heels - A business meeting with Alfie Solomons when Alfie has anything but business on the brain. 18+ Only.
Jealous Heat - It's a dangerous game making Tommy Shelby jealous, but you play it so well. 18+ Only.
Shadows and Vows - When Tommy discovers bruises on your skin, a fierce protectiveness awakens within him.
Obsession [For Nova] - John Shelby owns you, and he isn't going to let you forget it. 18+ Only.
Do You Know What Happens To Naughty Girls? - Where discipline sets the stage for an intense power play with the Shelby brothers. 18+ Only.
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Main Lydia Masterlist
OC Interview - Lydia Shelby
Things Lydia would love if she existed in 2024.
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Ao3 Fics.
Queen Of Kings - Nellie Ensor never expected to return to Small Heath, but fate had other plans. After her father's brutal murder at the hands of a ruthless gang, Nellie inherits the family business—a prize many would kill for. Torn between selling it off for safety and honouring her father's legacy, Nellie decides to stand her ground. Navigating a world steeped in danger, she finds herself entangled with the notorious Peaky Blinders. As threats loom and loyalties are tested, Nellie must find courage to protect her father's dream and carve out a place for herself in a world where survival is never guaranteed. In the heart of Birmingham, amidst the smoke and shadows, a legacy is about to be reborn.
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Behind Enemy Lines - Fearless journalist Florence Fletcher is on a mission to expose the Peaky Blinders, but her relentless pursuit pits her against the dangerous and captivating John Shelby. When a greater threat looms, they must join forces, turning enemies into uneasy allies. Amidst the chaos and intrigue, sparks fly and forbidden passion ignites. Can they survive the shadows of Birmingham's underworld and find love, or will their secrets destroy them?
Blurred Lines - [A modern!Behind Enemy Lines spin-off] - Florence Fletcher has always been a thorn in John Shelby's side, but when he finds her drunk and vulnerable on a night out, his protective instincts take over. As he steps in to help her, the hard edges of their contentious relationship start to blur, uncovering unexpected depths and hidden feelings.
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skxllz · 10 months
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18+ / blurb
“ being such a good girl fa’ me.. ” his voice rumbled lowly into your ear form behind, hips taking yet another act of notion to snap against the plushness of your backside. It ripped a gasp out of your throat - that quickly was silenced by his thick fingers pressing down on your tongue.
mouth hung open, lips slicked with saliva and the dripping syrup of your own juices; eyes rolling and opening and closing and fluttering with rapture. you could feel every inch of him with each thrust he packed into your weeping hole.
“ aren't you, love? ” john's voice once more met your ears, making you whine around his digits. you had wrapped your lips around his fingers, greedily sucking and threading your tongue through the center.
one hand moved from your hip, to your hair; makeshift ponytail making do as he yanked your hair back to connect eyes with you. your own were watery; pleasure filled and fucked out. the two of you had been going at it for an hour now. “ my good girl - hm? ” john smugly grinned, rolling his cock into you deeper. it pulled another stuffy moan from your mouth.
“ look at cha’.. ” he breathed, nuzzling his nose to the place behind your ear; hair tickling his face. his orbs never left your beautiful face as he whispered his dirty musings, “ you look like such a whore, darling. a filthy little bint. ” the man's mocking, deep laugh entered your ears, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and keen a whimper in reply.
john didn't like that - he enjoyed watching your face. your eyes; the emotions that swirled in them. he couldn't see that due to your act of defiance and hated it.
“ mm-mm, ” his rough grumble seeded out, dangerous blue hues narrowing while he gave another yank to your hair. your eyes opened instantly, darting to meet his while you swallowed - your throat was practically pinching down to gurgle on his fingers by now. they were soaked in your little mouth.
“ you keep yer’ eyes on me, y’hear? ” john's eyes were so dark as he spoke, filled with a dominance you've never quite seen before. but you nodded nonetheless, the loose hairs around your face bouncing lightly with the movement of your head. he chuckled then, moving his hand to brush them away.
inhaling, john pressed a deep kiss to your temple. “ there... good girl. ” his praise had your heart pounding, “ now take m’cock like a behaved bitch, yeah? ”
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f4iryd1mple · 1 year
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Alright yall its time for peaky blinders sex headcanons 😟 18+ mdni!
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Pls forgive me if this is bad im new at this😭
(Mi numero uno esposo🫦) tommy: -mating press kinda guy (yall saw him fuck grace)
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-kinda vanilla ngl but he has a complex and has a praise kink (both ways)
-doesn’t necessarily LOVE doing it with silence in the background but he likes the sounds you make enough to tolerate silence
-this man would kill to have you cockwarm him during meetings (bot family meetings normal ones lol)
-loves head both ways
-69
-kind of an exhibitionist but like to show off that he scored the hot sexy desired amongst all in Birmingham y/n 🤭
-gives hella hickeys
(Mi numero dos esposo pero lo amo tanto <3) JOHN SHELBYYY
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[btw if my spanish is ass tell me its been way to long for me]
-BREEDING KINK!!!
-loves the mating press for this reason
-loves the idea of you carrying his child
-fingers you to the end of the earth its
-unless he’s like suuuppppppeeeerrr horny he will try to make you cum on his fingers at least once
-didnt know he liked eating people out until he met you
-i saw this corn video earlier and he fingered the girl and ate her out then did a mating press so that reminded me oh John
-cuddles are mandatory after unless it gets interrupted he enjoys a few minutes of the nonsexual intimacy of cuddles
-gets horny from you in general
Last but not least ARTHUUURRRR SHEEELLLBBBYYYY
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-rough fucking is the only fucking with this man
-its just his nature he tries to be gentle but fails
-loves watching you gasp when he fucks you
-above average dick size so its easy to make you scream for him
-this man knows where the clit is🗣️
-he may seen like he wouldnt know on the outside at times but he loves pussy
PLSSS give me some ideas! I do most fandoms
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heavencanbeaprisontoo · 6 months
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Living with John Shelby Headcanons
Warnings: Period-typical misogyny, sexism, suggestive language, John wants more babies.
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Domestic Hcs
With this Shelby, you only start living with him after you’ve been married. He made it clear to you that he has four children at home and that they needed a mother more than he needed a bedmate. John can be brash and impulsive, but he takes his role as a father seriously… even if he isn’t always good at it. It was this dedication that drew you to him. You had always wanted children, why not start out with four?
John’s home is constantly busy, constantly noisy, and full of laughter. It’s not terribly glamorous, but there’s a lot of love in your new home. The kids were young when their mother Martha died, so they don’t fight you as much as you thought they would. 
John is pretty much hopeless when it comes to most household chores. He’s excellent at what he does as a Peaky Blinder, but he’s severely lacking in domestic skills. Can’t cook, can’t clean, and can’t fix much more than a leaky faucet. His kids were the first ones to warn you about all of that. But you ask him to help anyway, because you’ve seen how happy it makes him to accomplish these little missions. John wants to useful; he wants to succeed at fatherhood. So, you eat the burnt toast he serves and compliment his slowly improving handyman skills.
Seeing as how John burns water, cooking is primarily your thing. Expect John to invade the kitchen at every stage of cooking to steal a sip, a bite, a kiss, or a quick squeeze. To people outside the home, he’ll act like you being in the kitchen is nothing significant. You’re a woman, after all, doing women’s work. John’s just playing up his macho act. Food is a major thing for John, it represents love and safety for him. So, to see you in his kitchen, making him and kids a hearty meal just ruins him. 
He loves to take you and the children out to have a good time. Picnics mostly, because most indoor activities end with your little family being told to never come back. If you’re feeling like you need some time alone with John, he’s eager to fulfill your request. Just make sure to specify if this “alone time,” is an actual date rather than John dropping the kids off at Polly’s so he can ravish you in every room of the house. 
Relationship Hcs
John will deny it till the day he dies, but he only meant for you to be a one night stand the first time he met you. He wasn’t ready for love, and he had come to expect women to be just a bit deceitful. And then he got to talking to you, and you made a joke that had him shooting whiskey out his nose and suddenly one night turned into a week. One thing you learned about him is that deep down, he’s very tenderhearted. He loves deeply and grows attached to people faster than he wants to admit. 
Your man can be a tad uneven with how he responds to stress. Sometimes, he seems so easy going that it feels like he doesn’t take you seriously. Other times, it feels like he’s overreacting or being downright sensitive. The easiest way to insult him is to question his manhood. He loves to have fun and doesn’t always think things through, but he straightens up fast if you try to tell him he isn’t being the man you thought he was. John can get rather nasty at times about that. He is not above having a row with you about “who’s the one leading this fucking family.” John cools down slow and is extremely guilty afterwards… but he’ll never apologize directly to you. 
John cannot plan dates very well, at all. Tommy is the brother with plans, not him. So, naturally, he’s asked Tommy for advice in such matters. Your first real date with John was at a fancy restaurant in London. The two of you were still getting to know each other and he wanted to impress you, badly. You were both dressed smart as can be, the restaurant was lavish and romantic. John pulled out your chair for you, opens the menu, and freezes. Nothing on the menu was appetizing. At all. To try to save face, he asked the waiter to bring out their most popular dishes. The food comes, and you’re both picking at your plates with tight smiles. Finally, you say “Fuck this, let’s go to a chip shop.” If John had brought a ring, he would’ve proposed right then and there. 
It came as a bit of a surprise to you, but John is something of a dreamer. John loves to lay with you in bed and talk about all the things you two will do. He likes to tell you about the house in the country he’ll move you and the children out to. As you watch him list off all the things he’ll buy for the house, you can’t help but cuddle in closer. John gets such a big smile thinking about the good that is to come. It’s all very innocent. 
One would think a man would be content with four kids… well, John isn’t. He honestly got baby fever before you did. All it took was seeing you read his girls a bedtime story and he wanted another baby. Maybe two. Or three. 
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calummss · 8 months
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masterlist
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requested by the lovely @zablife . thank you for being so patient i feel awful but i hope you enjoy
prompt this was always how it was going to end
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‘What is wrong with you?’
‘What’s wrong with me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?’
‘With me?’ You stopped strutting, stepping towards his face. ‘Me? Are you fucking insane?’
John reached out for your arm, his tight grip making it impossible to walk off, leaving you in his embrace that no longer gave you the same warmth it used to. It was cold and wet, cold and dark. All you wanted was to go home, eat the food your nan had made you and sip a cup of tea by the fireplace as she talked about her golden age. John had apprehended you as you sat inside of the Garrison, patiently waiting for Pete to show up but as the clicking of the clock continued to burn into your head, you had given up and pitifully ordered four shots, all burning the back of your throat and you wiped your lips with saddened eyes.
‘Don’t touch me,’ you tried to pull back, your heels almost making you trip every time you tried to get away from him but he was also the one that saved you from the dirty streets of Small Heath. John had loosened his grip, enough to get rid of the burning sensation on the skin of your arm. His eyes were dark, no joy, no tears, no pain; just soulless.
‘You are mine.’ He growled at you not caring for the people that eyes the scene in front of them.
‘You don’t own me!’
‘You’re mine. Stop going on these stupid dates. Do they know you’re married? That they’re committing adulterous acts against me?’
‘We divorced, John!’
‘There’s no such thing as a divorce, sweetheart,’ he inched his face closer to yours, his hot breath clashing against the cold air. ‘Til death do us part.’
Your eyebrows softened with the released tension of your forehead. Who was he? What happened to John?
‘Pete won’t come.’
‘Why?’ You asked. Each second letting his words settle, his grip on your arm slowly fading as you tilted your head to look at him. Legs barely supporting your weight. ‘What the fuck did you do John? What did you do? Where is he?’
‘Receiving the punishment any man should.’
‘What the fuck did you do?’
‘I shot him in the head and watched all of his blood spill next to him as I watched life leave his eyes, his breathing stop, as he looked at me and realised that the last thing he would see was me.’
You stared at John processing what he said. Going over every word he had just uttered, not realising that your shaking hand had made its way to your lips, anxiously pulling the skin. And then it dawned on you… ‘Freddie, Roy, Kennedy, Albert…they never showed up, they…never returned any of my calls…John, what did you do?…Oh no no no,’ your tears silently fell.
‘Do you think I share what is mine?’
Sobs
‘If you think it was ever going to end any other way you are a stupid girl. This is how it was always going to end. You can run as far away as you want. Date who you want. Kiss who you want. But I will always find you. And I will take back what is mine. Always’
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Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.
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Words - 2,742
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is... 
“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”  
“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!” 
“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”  
Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!” 
You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.” 
“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?” 
Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.” 
“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.  
“All alley cats, the lot of ya!” 
“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!” 
A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat. 
He can work a little harder than that.  
The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.  
“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!” 
Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?” 
Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.” 
“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”  
Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?” 
You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.  
You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.  
“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.  
You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.” 
His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”  
The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?” 
You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.  
You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.  
“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.  
John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.  
“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.  
“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.  
He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.  
He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.  
The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.  
Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.  
The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.  
He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head. 
Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until... 
“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand. 
“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?” 
“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.  
“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.  
“Please what, bab?” 
You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”  
“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.” 
“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.  
“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.  
His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.  
No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”  
He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.  
His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips. 
The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.  
“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”  
You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.  
Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.  
You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.  
“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him. 
“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.  
“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”  
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zablife · 1 year
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This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes
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Tommy watching you do just anything at home
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John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something
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Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself
Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.
Place Your Bets
"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.
Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.
"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."
You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.
"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.
"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.
John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.
"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.
"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.
"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.
"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.
You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"
Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.
John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.
You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"
That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.
You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.
"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.
"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.
"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.
"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."
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runnning-outof-time · 1 month
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GIF blurb 4?
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Still loving these gif blurbs you’ve sent - they did exactly what I needed them to!! I’m going to show John some love with this one!!
Nothing Better Than Coming Home
John Shelby x Reader
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(Y/N) was still awake when she felt his side of the bed dip. The room was completely dark, so she blindly turned and reached her arm over until it collided with a body.
She was able to smell the smoke on his skin. On other occasions she’d wrinkle her nose at it and tell him to go bathe, but tonight she was just happy to have him home.
These late evenings were part of John’s job in the family business, and god only knows what filled them up. (Y/N) didn’t want to know, so long as he came home at the end of them.
“You’re still awake, sweetheart?” John’s voice was gruff against the silence in the room.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) answered, her single word response coming out as a breath.
“Hope you weren’t waitin’ up for me.”
“I wasn’t,” she told a partial truth, “can always tell when you come home.”
“I can go wash off if the smell’s botherin’ you,” he offered, although he made no effort to move.
“No,” she breathed, “stay.” With that, she tightened her hold on him, pressing her face against his shoulderblade.
John silently obliged, blindly finding her hand and so that he could tangle their fingers together before he let out a breath of content.
There was nothing better than coming home.
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This one got a little long on me…hope y’all don’t mind. I’d love to know what you thought of it! — adding my John taglist below the cut.
Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing
@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy
@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut
@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx
@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra
@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee
@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @ce1iat @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite
@jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway @mysticalfuncollectorus @sleepyycatt
@darklydeliciousdesires (I know you’re not on my list, Claire, but I thought maybe you’d enjoy this little John piece)
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crowwritesaway · 6 months
Text
John Shelby x Female Reader
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She giggled. She poked him on the nose. John squinted. How much did you drink?
“Johnny.” She hiccuped. “Hmm…” She looked up at him, pouting. “Can I tell you a secret?” He nodded. He stared at you with a grin. Adorable. Who knew she could become this cute?
You tugged at his coat. He leaned down. “What is it?” He asked, brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face. You and him were eye to eye. He cleared his throat. He has been this close to you.
You stared at his lips. “Soft.” John bit his lip and let it go. “What?” He huskily asked, trying to keep composure. “Uh.” You felt warmth spread across your face. “I forgot.” You mumbled, looking away from him. He smiled, pulling you into his arms.
“It’s okay.” He comforted you. “Today was a bad day wasn’t it.” He knew that. You rarely drank like this. My poor girl stressing herself.
“What have I told ya about stressing out? Hmm.” He laid his head on yours. You sighed, feeling like everything was falling into place. “Not to.” He hummed. That’s part of it. “And?”
“To look for you.” You snuggled into him. Then why? This burning question rang in his mind. Why not look for me?
“It’s too hard to.” You stared at empty street. He stayed quiet. “When nothing makes sense. I’m not used to being helped.”
He pulled away and gently gripped your face with his hands. “That’s what I’m here for. To be by your side. In good and bad times.”
You nodded. “Love. Come here. Let’s go home.” You rubbed your face with your hand. “I don’t want to go home.” You thought he was taking you to your empty house.
“My home. Our home. Come on.” He softly told you with a smile.
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Stay around for more if you enjoyed reading this 💗
📌Commissions are open.
https://artistree.io/artbycrow
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Idle Hands
I'm clearing out my drafts, so please enjoy this super short one shot. I'm not all that happy with this, but I've been working on it for months, and if I kept working on it, it was never going to get posted.
Contains: Historically inaccuracy around coconut oil and rum, fluff, smut (P in V).
933 words
John gets bored on your spa vacation.
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When Tommy suggested you and John go to one of those new fandangled spa resorts by the sea to take a break from the rush and smoggy air of Birmingham, you knew it would be a change. What you didn't know was how bored you were going to be, one can only soak in the Grecian pool so much.
When you returned from your spa treatment, John was lying on one of the couches in your room, naked under the towel wrapped around his waist as he read the Birmingham Times, looking disinterested. You walked behind the loveseat and wrapped your arms around his body as he twisted himself to kiss you. He pulled back with a smile and took a deep breath. "You smell like that fancy rum we give to the Toffs at the Eden Club, the one from the Caribbean."
"Yes, I just spent the last hour getting a coconut oil massage." It was nice, but even a trained masseuse had nothing on John's strong, capable hands. You made the short journey around the seat and sat next to him, but he grinned and lifted you onto his lap. "What are you doing?"
His eyes filled with mischief as he placed his hand on your thigh. "I got lonely without you."
His calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh, his trigger finger the roughest as they slowly slid closer to the leg opening of your loose linen shorts. "I'm sorry, Dearest. You could have come with me. They did have a couples option."
He started running his fingertips up and down your leg, from your knee to just inside your shorts and back again, before letting out a sigh. "I'm bored shitless, love. There's nothing to do here."
You raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I can think of a few things."
The way he grinned and tilted his head told you the game was on, and a bulge radially grew in the towel as he pulled you into a kiss. You couldn't decide whether to remove his towel or your shirt, and the room filled with laughter as your hands collided midair in the rush to choose. The towel fell away as the knot came undone, and a moment later, his hands found your bare skin.
He palmed your breasts as his lust filled eyes raked over your body. "You're so fucking beautiful." He pushed himself up and pulled you further onto his lap as his lips found yours with force, his teeth meeting your flesh as his hand moved to your lower back to press you to his hard cock. The kiss turned softer as his other hand made its way to your core.
He smiled into the kiss as his fingers ran through the mess between your legs. He swallowed your moans as he zeroed in on your clit and dug your nails into his ample bicep as your head fell against his chest. He was infuriating sometimes; his need to take his time and enjoy it like he was walking through an interactive art gallery made you far more desperate than you were willing to admit. "John, please, you had your fun this morning, have mercy on me."
His chest rumbled with a chuckle, and you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his plump lower lip as he brought his fingers down to your entrance. Just as you were preparing to protest again, he pulled his fingers away and grabbed his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. "Well, hop on Love." He held himself steady as you slid down and settled into his lap.
You stayed still, adjusting to his size as one of his hands landed on your lower back while the other found your cheek. His fingertips brushed your cheekbone as you started to rock your hips, and his nose bumped yours as affection poured from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest as he took over the pace and you buried your head in his neck as your nerves lit up like the night sky during a bomb run.
He hit his stride, and an inferno followed the path his hand made from your back to your clit as he rubbed it in tight circles while your breath caught in your chest. Your teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder as the sparks of pleasure grew overwhelming while the steady pressure of his cock on your G-spot made your thighs twitch against his firm body.
He was grunting like an animal, snapping his hips up at the end of each stroke to kiss your cervix before pulling out almost all the way and starting again. Your nails dug into his skin and opened your mouth to warn him of your oncoming fall over the edge, but he already knew and took you in a searing kiss as he pushed you over it. Your world spun as you landed on your back and he folded you like a pretzel as used all his leverage to slam into you.
It was so much it almost ached, but just as you were about to try to beg for mercy between desperate breaths, you felt him pulse inside you, and his weight collapsed on top of you while his chest heaved and his hips stuttered with aftershocks. He took a deep breath, and you felt his lips fall all across your face in gentle kisses. "You right, Love?"
You nodded. "I'm great. Are you still bored?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm great too."
Fin
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wonderlanddreamer · 3 months
Text
Obsession [For Nova]
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Because we all need a bit of dirty, possessive John smut, whether we know it or not.
18+ ONLY.
-x-
The Garrison was alive with the usual hum of chatter and laughter, the clinking of glasses underscoring the lively atmosphere. It was a typical night in Small Heath, but for you, it was anything but ordinary. For hours, you had been playing a tantalizing game with John Shelby, your eyes meeting his from across the room, your lips curling into a mischievous smile every time you caught his gaze. Your subtle touches and playful remarks had been driving him to the edge of his sanity.
John's jaw clenched as he watched you from his spot at the bar, his blue eyes darkening with each teasing glance you threw his way. He was a man of action, not words, and the way you were leading him on was testing his patience. The final straw came when you walked past him, your hand casually brushing against his arm, your laughter a soft melody that ignited a wildfire within him.
Without a word, John reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against his chest with a force that took your breath away. His grip was rough and unyielding, his body radiating heat and barely contained desire. Before you could react, he had pulled you against his lap, his arms wrapping around you possessively.
"Do you know what you've been doing to me, love?" he growled, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. His breath was hot on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and anticipation flooding your senses. You had been playing a dangerous game, and now you were face-to-face with the consequences. John's eyes bore into yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers painfully dug into your flesh, holding you in place.
"I've been driving you mad, haven't I?" you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips, the thrill of his possessiveness making your pulse quicken.
John's lips curved into a feral grin, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer. "You have no idea, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dripping with a dangerous promise. "But now, you're going to fuckin' understand it."
His hand slid up your thigh, his touch rough and demanding. You gasped, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away. John's other hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. He pressed a fierce kiss to your skin, his teeth grazing your flesh in a way that made you tremble.
"You belong to me," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
John’s grip tightened as he bit down on your neck, a raw, feral sound rumbling from his chest. The pain mingled with pleasure, sending waves of heat through your body. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you against his growing arousal.
“You think you can tease me like that and walk away?” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. “I don’t think so, love. I’m not a man you can play with.”
“John…” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.
“Say my name,” he commanded, his voice a low, feral growl. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“John,” you repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I belong to you.”
A triumphant growl escaped his lips as he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you possessively. There was no gentleness in his touch, you knew you had awakened a beast within John Shelby, and there was no escaping his possessive hold. You were his, and he would make sure you never forgot it.
John's lips left yours, trailing a line of fiery kisses down your neck. Each touch was a brand, marking you as his. You could feel the raw power in his touch, the intensity of his need overwhelming.
"Do you feel that?" he murmured against your skin, his voice a guttural growl. "Do you feel what you do to me?"
You nodded, unable to form words as his hands continued their relentless exploration. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks that would serve as reminders of his ownership of your body. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, heightening your senses and driving you wild with desire.
With a swift motion, John grabbed your hand, pulling you through the bustling crowd of the Garrison. The noise and chatter faded as he led you out a side door, the cool night air hitting you like a refreshing wave. The alley behind the pub was dimly lit, the moon casting long shadows on the cobblestones. The scent of damp earth and the distant hum of the city filled the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere.
John shoved you against the rough brick wall, his body pressing against yours with a possessive urgency. His eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glare in his gaze. "You're mine," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "And don't you ever fuckin' forget it."
His hands found the hem of your dress, pushing it up with rough urgency. Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed up your thigh, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He paused, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched your reaction.
"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Tell me you want me."
"Yes, John," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you. I need you."
A triumphant smirk curled his lips as he claimed your mouth again, his kiss fierce and demanding. His hands continued their exploration, pushing you to the edge of your sanity. His touch was a fierce reminder of his possession.
John’s hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs and under your dress, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you gasping. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.
“You’ve been a little tease all fuckin' night,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Now, it’s my turn.”
His hands gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge of the wall. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine, love. I do what I fuckin' want with what's mine.”
With a swift motion, he pushed your dress up higher, exposing more of your skin to the cool night air. His fingers danced along the edge of your underwear, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the heat of his breath against your neck, the roughness of his stubble grazing your skin.
“Please, John,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The anticipation was driving you mad, each touch sending electric shocks through your body.
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down your spine. “You really think I'm gonna give it to you that easy?"
John's fingers moved with a confident precision, exploring the delicate, sensitive areas with a mastery that left you trembling. He traced slow, tantalizing circles around your most intimate parts, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingertips were both gentle and insistent, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and arch into his touch.
His thumb brushed against your most sensitive spot, drawing a sharp moan from your lips. He lingered there, teasing you with light, maddening strokes that had you clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. The sensations were overwhelming, each movement of his fingers igniting a fire deep within you.
“John,” you moaned, your body arching into his touch. “Please.”
He growled low in his throat, his other hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. He kissed a trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, marking you as his.
As his thumb continued its relentless teasing, his fingers below moved with increasing urgency, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quicker, more insistent movements. The dual sensations had you teetering on the edge, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trembling with need.
“John,” you whispered, your voice a breathless plea.
His eyes met yours, the possessive gleam in them even more intense. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss that left you breathless. His tongue plunged into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your hands clung to him, desperate for some anchor as your world spun out of control. The sensations were too much, too intense, and you felt yourself spiraling, your body tightening with impending release.
John seemed to sense how close you were, his fingers moving with a renewed urgency, his thumb pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot. With a final, expert stroke, he sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your climax.
You cried out his name, your voice echoing in the narrow alleyway, your body shuddering against his. He held you through it, his fingers never ceasing their movements, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless in his arms.
But John wasn't finished. His eyes, blazing with feral hunger, roamed over you, and you could feel the raw intensity of his need. With a low growl, his grip tightened possessively, his hands roaming your body with renewed urgency, making it clear that his voracious desire for you was far from sated. He was relentless, a force of nature, determined to claim every last part of you.
With a swift, fluid movement, he pulled you closer, lifting you slightly as he pressed you against the wall. He positioned himself between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.
His eyes blazed with a feral intensity. "I'm gonna make you scream my name so fuckin' loud they all know who you fuckin' belong to," he whispered, his voice thick with raw, unrestrained desire.
With a foreceful thrust, he entered you, the sensation electrifying. Your breath caught in your throat, your body arching into his as you clung to him, your fingers digging into his back. John moved with a fierce, almost desperate intensity, his need for you driving him to the edge of control.
Every movement, every touch, every breath was a declaration of his possession. The rough brick wall behind you contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours. The sensations were overwhelming, intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the storm of his passion.
John's pace was relentless, his movements a mix of rough urgency and tender possessiveness. Each thrust brought a fresh wave of pleasure, building an intensity that left you gasping, clinging to him for support. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
"John," you moaned, your voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and emotion. "Fuck...yes... John!"
A primal sound rumbled deep in his chest, his grip on you tightening as he drove deeper, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. You could feel the tension coiling within you, building to a shattering crescendo. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you further over the edge, your body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy.
John followed you over the edge, his own release a fierce, primal roar that echoed through the alley. He collapsed against you, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his climax. For a moment, the world was still, the only sound your shared, ragged breaths.
As your breathing gradually steadied, John leaned in close, his eyes still smoldering with intensity. He gripped your chin firmly, his voice a low, fierce growl. "Don't forget, you're mine" he said, each word dripping with possession, "All fuckin' mine. No one touches what's mine except for me."
You smiled, your heart swelling with contentment. “All yours, John Shelby. And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied, your voice a soft murmur.
The cool night air wrapped around you both as you stood there, still entwined. John gently helped you adjust your dress, his touch lingering on your skin. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.
“Let’s get back inside before anyone notices we’re gone,” he said with a playful smirk, though his eyes still held that intense, possessive gleam.
You nodded, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Lead the way, Mr. Shelby.”
Back in the pub, John’s grip on your waist was unyielding, his eyes a fierce warning to anyone who dared look your way. When someone glanced too long, he yanked you closer, his fingers digging possessively into your hip. His gaze was a silent, feral declaration—everyone around could see it clearly: you were his.
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