Peaky Blinders One Shots

Bonnie X Reader: Opposites Attract

Throughout your life, you've always been seen as cold. It's not like you can't feel anything at all, you just rarely express it, through either facial expressions or words. Because of that, you've had difficulty making friends over the years. Those who aren't used to your ways often view you as aloof and careless, so they don't stick around for long. Needless to say, it can get lonely from time to time. Not that you'd ever tell anyone that, though.

In a way, you were alright with this. Sure, you had fewer people to hang around with, but you can't say you're the friendliest person ever, either. People can get on your nerves quite often, especially when they begin to point out how little you react to things. It would be rude for you to say that they laugh too loud, cry too much, express themselves too openly, but it's never a problem for them to criticise you for doing all of those things too infrequently.

That's why it surprises the Hell out of you when one of the younger Blinder lads strikes up a conversation with you outside the local bakery one day. You know he's new to Small Heath, and the Blinders in general, because even they don't bother with you. It's not like some boys your age haven't tried, it's just that from what they could see, you're not interested. That's what everyone thinks when they talk to you.

This Bonnie lad, however, seems to know otherwise.

Despite barely giving him any attention during that first meeting, he still walks away with a smile on his face, and returns the next day with the same smile. He talks a lot, about boxing, about his life, his family, his interests, what he likes about Small Heath, and what he doesn't like. He watches you take in this information, listening to you grunt and sigh and hum in acknowledgement. Not only does he talk about himself, though, but he asks about you as well. He asks anything that comes to mind and doesn't seem deterred when you give short, one line answers. Every word out of your mouth is greeted with a soft smile, even though your tone of voice is anything but welcoming and friendly. You're never outright cruel or unkind, but you don't make an effort to be sweet or bubbly. It just simply isn't you.

Every day, after talking to Bonnie, you expect it to be the last conversation you'll ever have with him, that you'll have finally pushed him away, and each time, you find yourself growing more worried. The boxer has wormed his way into your heart with his sweet smiles and carefree laugh, easier than you ever thought it could be. With this unfamiliar fondness growing for him, you find yourself needing to address the situation at hand.

"Why do you talk to me?" You ask abruptly, rudely interrupting him while he's talking about the last time his sisters visited. You don't mean to be so rude, but you're unusually jittery after realising that you like him.

Bonnie looks at you in surprise, but his eyes remain light and happy looking.

"Because I like you," is his reply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, which it definitely isn't.

"But why?" you repeat, "no one else does."

"That's only because they don't know you."

"They know I'm an arsehole who barely gives anyone the time of day." Bonnie snorts at your word choice, and a smirk nearly makes its way to your lips too, but you try to remain expressionless.

"You're not an arsehole, you're just a bit closed off," he points out, "there's nothing wrong with that."

"Apparently, to a lot of people, there is something wrong with it," you tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Do you care about what everyone else thinks of you?"

"Not everyone," you reply, "but there are some people that I've liked that think I'm too difficult to get along with," he nods thoughtfully, and you look him deep in the eyes as you tell him: "I'm glad you're not one of them." You give him a rare smile to prove your point, even though it's only a small gesture.

Bonnie, being the ray of sunshine that he is, beams at you in return. His eyes light up at the confession, and he moves closer to you, his hand reaching to rub against yours carefully. You don't pull away, like you would if he was anyone else. Instead, you hesitantly interlace your fingers with his, your palm resting against his. At your show of affection, Bonnie leans in slowly, giving you the chance to pull away if you wish, but you don't. Your lips meet, and you're amazed at how soft his lips feel against yours.

The kiss is short, but sweet. Bonnie doesn't push for anything more, seemingly happy with how far you've both gone already. You pull away first, but stay close to him, basking in the warmth and light he exudes naturally, as if he is your own sun, pushing away the shadows in your life.

"I've never seen you as difficult," he assures, squeezing your hand affectionately, "I love spending time with you, in fact."

"I love spending time with you, too," he gives you a toothy grin, and a peck on the lips that has your heart fluttering, an abnormal experience for you, "but where do we go from here?" This relationship stuff is new to you, and you find yourself looking to him for guidance. He looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, I should take you out on a date," he tells you, "and give you flowers, and hold your hand when we're out together, and give you my coat when you're cold." You snort at his list of romantic actions.

"You don't have to do all that," you snicker, "but going out sounds nice."

"Well, what sort of man would I be if I didn't do all that other stuff as well?" He sounds horrified, but you can see that he's trying to hide a smile. You roll your eyes at him, but it's out of fondness rather than annoyance, which is what you feel around most people.

"Alright then, lover boy. I'll let you go all out for the first date." Bowing down dramatically, Bonnie pulls your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back, like the men you've read about in books before would do to the women they're courting. When he looks back up at you again, he's ecstatic.

"You won't regret it, dove," and somehow, you know he's right.