peaky blinders imagines + smut.

john shelby: adolescents to adults.

Most people would look at John Shelby and immediately walk away, terrified of the crimes that he could commit when someone that he cared for was in danger or simply when he had drunk too much after a heavy night at The Garrison, releasing his stresses after a troubling day at work. You, however, never looked at John as a Shelby, only as the man that you dearly loved. Whenever he was stood in front of you, all you could see was the gentleman that you gradually fell in love with throughout the years. There were problematic spells, when you would question your loyalty to John, but in the end, you would find yourself slowly trailing back to him, keeping your secret concealed.

From the adolescent years to the War, you were always by John's side. The two of you joined at the hip and full of love which was revealed the day that John voyaged back from France. In the middle of the train station, he announced his love for you after thinking about it for four years while stuck in the muddy and frightening ditches. It wasn't a shock for most of the Shelby's, they had been expecting this for years and were thankful that the truth was finally out. No labels were placed on the relationship, mostly because the relationship was swiftly moving up and getting bigger and John didn't want to risk having you in a defenceless position. You acknowledged his worries, mostly because you felt them yourself, and kept yourself on the side-lines, busying yourself with your occupation at the local florists whenever the work over at the Shelby household was heating up. You knew that one day you would be Mrs. Shelby and you were satisfied with that, not caring that you had to wait.

Thing's soon changed however.

The knock that rang through your small house was recognisable. John was never silent, and you chuckled to yourself as you rushed down the stairs, eager to see John after a good few days apart. Quickly checking yourself in the mirror, you walked over to the front door with a wide smile on your face, only for it to drop when you saw John look down. You caught his eyes only for a short-lived moment and you knew that something was disturbing him and immediately, your stomach squeezed up from concern.

"I came to say goodbye," John said as soon as you opened the door, his eyes on the ground. From his body posture, you could tell that he was hopeless, broken-hearted and other unwelcoming emotions that barely ran through the joyful boy's soul. Your concerns heightened as you looked at John, trying to fathom what he was going on about.

"Goodbye?" You nervously chuckled before reaching out to grab John's hand, not trying to show your reaction when he pulled away and walked inside. His eyes never met yours as he walked into your kitchen, furiously murmuring to himself.

John couldn't bear to touch you – and it wasn't your fault, just his. There was a part of him that believed that he would never be able to let you go if he felt your soft skin of his again and he needed this to be finished with quick, no matter how much it hurt. He would never, ever forgive himself for the pain that he was about to cause you but what else could he do? John was stuck in an unbearable situation, one that he did not want to be in, and was being forced to move towards the one option that he didn't want. Love was tough, his mother had once told him after his father had done another runner for the fifth time, but John had never anticipated it to be this painful. As he stood on one side of the dining room, his hands on the back of the table chair as he looked at the ground and you slanting against the door, John tried his hardest not to cry.

"I have to leave you," he said, so inaudible that you only just heard it. A scoff came from your direction and John closed his eyes, visualising the expression on your face. His hands got tighter on the back of the chair as he leaned forward, trying to steady himself and the emotions. His breathing was heavy as he thought about his next words – what he was going to say, what your reaction would be. "There's another woman."