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zanephillips · 6 months
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JOE COLE Gangs of London 1.06
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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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koalamysterio · 27 days
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TOMMY AND ADA ARE SO CUTE 🥺
(Edited. Credits goes to u/thekeythief on reddit)
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alicent-targaryen · 10 months
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TOMMY, JOHN & ARTHUR SHELBY ▸ Peaky Blinders, 2.1
requested by @jomarch-wannabe
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nomilkinmyteaplease · 5 months
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Jared Harris in the Homecoming at the Young Vic.
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brun0 · 30 days
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fkmylif3 · 9 months
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Joe Cole as John Shelby
Peaky Blinders (2013 - 2022)
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thecolebrothers · 3 months
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📸:@/youngvictheatre
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daybreak96 · 3 months
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Welcome to the Shelby family
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zanephillips · 11 months
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JOE COLE One Of These Days (2020)
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mydear-corinthian · 14 days
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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.
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"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
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skxllz · 5 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.
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barrykeoghanstan · 7 months
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Friend: You're unhinged
Me: No, I'm not. I'm just saying it would be hot as fuck to let each of the Shelby brothers + Micheal to have their way with me
Friend: ......
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editfandom · 10 months
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Gaap - Black Mirror, S06E05
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alicent-targaryen · 1 year
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JOHN & ARTHUR SHELBY ▸ Peaky Blinders, 1.6
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koalamysterio · 7 days
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I won't apologize for this
(The video is mine)
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