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#joe cole
zanephillips · 5 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 · 7 days
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TOMMY AND ADA ARE SO CUTE 🥺
(Edited. Credits goes to u/thekeythief on reddit)
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youremyvioleta · 1 year
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men's fashion accessories - albert chains & sleeve garters in PEAKY BLINDERS
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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 · 4 months
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Jared Harris in the Homecoming at the Young Vic.
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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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fkmylif3 · 8 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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skxllz · 4 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 · 6 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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zanephillips · 10 months
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JOE COLE One Of These Days (2020)
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editfandom · 9 months
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Gaap - Black Mirror, S06E05
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raincoffeeandfandoms · 7 months
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Fly away, Butterfly (John Shelby x Reader)
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Summary: After Tommy orders him to kill Mrs. Changretta, his teacher, John returns to his home with teary eyes. The only one there is his best friend: Butterfly, a nickname he gave her long time ago. War is coming and he wants to protect her. But this Butterfly already made her decision: the only place she wants to go is his arms.
Warnings: Angst. Hurt/comfort.
Words: 1k.
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A door slam echoed through Arrow House. John Shelby left Tommy's office with tears in his eyes. "Do this, John. Do that, John. Kill your fucking teacher, John."
His best friend was babysitting his children when he arrived. Butterfly, he called her. The nickname had been born about fifteen years ago when John noticed that every spring she used to smell every flower she met on the road.
She had been there at important moments in his life, like when he told her he had met a girl named Martha and how he felt he was in love with her. His best friend saw them get married, saw Katie and her little brothers born. She watched John go off to war and sadly saw Martha die in childbirth of the last baby. She had never seen John so destroyed as he was at that moment. And he had never been able to rebuild his life, even though his brother Tommy had tried to force him into a marriage he did not accept.
In the years that followed, however, John had been able to mourn his wife's death and become himself again. Funny, cheerful, mischievous...
"Butterfly," he used to say to her with one of those beautiful smiles of his, "when are you going to kiss me, eh?" She used to push him away, also smiling.
Polly had seen them like this so many times that she couldn't help thinking how long it would be before John would claim that he was really in love with his friend and that he was going to marry again. But that day never came. Apparently, they were just friends.
John was a cheerful man and everyone knew it. At least if he was compared to his siblings and cousin. So the moment she saw him walk through the door with teary eyes and a red face, she knew something bad had happened.
He left his peaky cap on the table and took off his coat, he poured himself a glass of whisky. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, as if it had barely registered where he was or what he was doing.
"John? John, what happened?"
"Butterfly..." he said finally looking at her. "Business. My brother Tommy, life... it all happened. The kids?"
"They're sleeping. They've had their dinner, bathed, done their homework..."
"Thank you, sweetheart." John sat in the kitchen chair and looked at the wall in front of him. "Tommy wants revenge. He wants to kill Mrs. Changretta. She was my fucking teacher, Butterfly. She taught me to read and she had a hard time getting me to learn because I'm a brute. But she did it. I used to steal apples from the neighbour's tree when I was even younger than Katie is now and bring her one. Because that woman had faith in me, Butterfly, and now Thomas wants me to kill her. Like it's nothing, like that woman mean shit to me."
She let him speak. Not since Martha's death had she seen him like this. Butterfly put a hand on his arm and squeezed it tenderly. She had never talked too much to her brother Thomas, partly because they had nothing to say to each other and partly because he intimidated her. So they had only exchanged a couple of hellos and not much more than that. But she knew that John did everything he said, he hardly ever questioned him, but apparently this time it was different. And she understood why.
"It's a war, Butterfly," John said, stroking her hand. "And I have to obey."
"In exchange for what, John? Your soul? Your brother might find another solution."
"There isn't. Tommy has already decided and Arthur is with him as always."
She didn't quite understand the codes of that underworld. But she knew Tommy Shelby was the type to go to the ultimate consequences even if he had to put his family in the line of fire. Butterfly stroked his hair. That wasn't her John. Her friend was now behind the whole dichotomy in which his soul and mind were fighting.
"I can't do it."
"Then don't do it, John."
John took another swig of whiskey. The liquid burned his throat. He was tired. He looked to his right where his friend stood trying to comfort him. Butterfly and her children, they were all he hoped to see at the end of the day and it was always good to find her. She never asked for anything in return, she did it for the friendship that bound them together. She was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
"Death is tapping us on the shoulder, sweetheart. Fly away, Butterfly and don't come back. I've already lost Martha, I can't let anything happen to you too."
"I'm not going away from you, John Shelby."
John looked at her and she didn't look away. When he brought his lips to hers and she didn't pull back, he kissed her. John kissed Butterfly as if devouring her soul. She could feel his tears on her cheeks. She stood up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as John wrapped his arms around her waist. Butterfly let him guide her to her bed. That night, for the first time in 15 years of friendship, the two of them saw each other without clothes.
Still naked in bed, after making love, Butterfly kissed his shoulder. John stroked her hair, while touching her legs with his feet.
"I'm not going anywhere, John."
"You should."
"Yes, but I can't. I don't want to. I love you."
John looked up at her, her eyes gazing devotedly into his blue eyes. "I love you, too."
Butterflies migrate, but she doesn't. Because even on the grayest days like that, John Shelby was her eternal springtime. And always had been.
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mensource · 10 months
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Joe Cole as John Shelby PEAKY BLINDERS ― 2.04
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alicent-targaryen · 1 year
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JOHN & ARTHUR SHELBY ▸ Peaky Blinders, 1.6
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