Peaky Blinders One Shots

Esme X Reader: A Christmas Kiss

"That's the last gift in my pile," you announce, sighing in relief that you don't have to wrap any more boxes. Your fingers ache from holding the pieces of wrapping paper together while searching for the scissors and tape that you swore you put down beside you, but now you're done. A look at Esme's pile shows that she's moving onto her last present as well, meaning you don't have to offer to help with hers, which you don't even feel guilty about being relieved over. You knew when you offered to help her with wrapping her children's presents that there would be a lot to do, given that she has seven children, but you forgot just how taxing wrapping gifts can be.

"Thanks, love," Esme doesn't even look up at you as she speaks, too focused on cutting the red and gold wrapping paper to just the right size to wrap around her daughter Tara's new scooter. As it's a big present, it takes longer to wrap. "There's whisky in the cupboard over the counter if you want some."

"Do you want a glass as well?" You ask her as you get up from your place on the floor.

"Uhhh...yeah, alright," you snort at her hesitation. Esme would never say no to a drink after such a stressful day, you know that. Since the kids are all in bed as well, she has another reason to say yes.

Retrieving the bottle of Jameson and two glasses from the cupboard, you carry them back to her, stepping around the wrapped boxes you left scattered around the floor. Once back in your original space, you plop down beside her. Putting the glasses on the floor, you unscrew the top and pour some into both. By the time you've screwed the bottle top on again, Esme is done wrapping, now just adding a little label onto the paper that reads: 'To Tara, From Santa'.

When she's done, she throws down the pen and tape with a sigh much like your own when you finished. "You made sure I ended up with that big one in my pile, didn't you?"

"Maybe," you hide your smile with the glass.

"Fucker."

"Hey! I had big ones to wrap as well!" You exclaim, laughing at her fake annoyed expression.

"Yeah, but none of them were as big as that box." You know she's just messing with you, so you take no notice of her words, instead choosing to nudge her shoulder with yours. She nudges you back, then takes a sip from her glass, and you two fall into a comfortable silence for a while. It's only when you're pouring each of you a second glass that you speak again.

"So, what time is John coming over tomorrow?"

"Early enough. It's the kids' first Christmas with us separated, so we want to make it as normal as possible, so he's coming over before they unwrap their presents, and he'll stay for dinner. Then he'll have them on New Year's, and I'll do the same thing." You nod at her explanation.

John and Esme got divorced earlier this year after realising that they just weren't in love anymore. Despite this, they still love each other as friends, and the divorce was amicable. You've watched them over the last few months make a brilliant team at co-parenting their seven children. They've split custody 50/50, and have no problem spending holidays and birthdays together. It's admirable how well they're doing, and how they're supporting their children through this tough time.

Esme and you have been friends for nearly four years, and while you've always been attracted to her, you never said anything because she was married, and now she needs you as a friend, something you're more than happy to be. You love having her in your life, even if it's not in the romantic way you often daydream about.

"What are you going to be doing for Christmas, love?" She asks you. You shrug.

"I'll probably go over to a relative's house. Not the most exciting thing."

"Well, you're more than welcome to spend Christmas with us," she tells you, "everyone would be happy to have you here."

"Are you sure?" You ask, "I wouldn't want to be imposing or anything. This Christmas is already going to be odd enough for the kids." She brushes you off with a wave of her hand.

"The kids love you, and they're used to having lots of people in the house on Christmas day," she points out, but then her voice lowers, and she leans in closer, "besides, I'd love for you to be there." Her hand that isn't holding a glass of whisky covers yours that rests on the floor, and you find yourself nearly choking on the air you're breathing. You're not sure what to do, afraid that you're reading the situation wrong, that she's just being friendly, that the alcohol has gone to her head much faster than it ever has before. Despite those thoughts, though, your eyes travel down to her lips, then back to her own eyes. She smiles coyly when she sees this, and she leans in closer, ever so slowly, giving you the chance to pull away. But with her confirming your hopes for what her intentions are, you lean in as well, until your lips touch hers.

What starts off as a cautious and hesitant kiss changes quickly, though. Esme's slightly chapped lips press against yours firmly, and the hand that was holding the glass is now on your cheek, pulling you closer to her. You put down your glass too, and wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her body against yours, and soon your other arm is around her waist too, with her free hand cupping your other cheek. She tastes of the whisky she's just been drinking, and of the sugary sweets you both munched on while you wrapped presents.

You pull away for air, but you're still holding her against you, and you have no intention of letting go yet. Your cheeks feel warm, not just from her hold on them, but also from the lovely glow that kissing her brought on.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while now," she confesses quietly.

"So have I," you admit, "but I didn't want to make a move too soon." She scoffs at that.

"Love, I've been divorced for seven months, but I've known for a lot longer that my marriage is over. I've been ready to move on for some time, and you're the one I want to be with." Your heart practically skips a beat at her words, and you beam at her, but something still holds you back.

"I'd love to be with you, but do you think the kids will be alright with it? I don't want them to feel like I'm replacing John." You've adored their kids since you met them all, and you'd be devastated if they hated you because they thought you got in the way of their parents' marriage. She rolls her eyes, finding your worries ridiculous.

"Those kids love you, and so does John. He knows that I fancy you, and he's been telling me to ask you out since before our divorce even finalised. I'm sure no one will be upset by this," she explains, "so, do you still want to spend Christmas with us?"

"Nothing would make me happier," you mumble as you lean in for another kiss, and she follows your lead with a grin.