Peaky Blinders. One shot and imagines

Blind - Part 11 - John x Reader

John had tried to be patient; really, he had. Pol had told him to stay put after their conversation. Told him to stay put, while she went and spoke to (Y/n); while she went and tried to sort out all the mess that John had agreed that he had created. And up until a few moments ago, he had been doing well........well what he had actually been doing was pacing up and down his aunt's sitting room, going over and over all the things that he and (Y/n) had been through over the years. All the things that they had done together. How Polly or (Y/n)'s grandmother, Ivy, would place them in a bed together, when they were little; how they would huddle up to one another, on the coldest of nights, and sleep more soundly than when they were alone. How she would help him with all the schoolwork that he had hated doing and had once even punch a boy called Albert Sullivan when he had dared call John and his family all manner of names; John recalling how even he had stood there as Bert had screamed at the blood that leaked from his bust nose. A large smile finally forming on his lips, as (Y/n) had moved to his side, before giving Albert a few home truths, about his own family; before she had been dragged off to see the headmaster. Before she and the master's cane, had had an inevitable meeting; though she had never complained about it, and she hadn't even cried. John able to remember how proud he had been of her; how thankful he was, that she was his friend.

And then had come the war. He had felt sick as he, Arthur and Tommy had stood on that platform by the train, with his aunt, sister, little Finn and (Y/n) wishing that they didn't have to go. (Y/n) wrapping her arms around him and telling him to come home; to keep himself and Arthur and Tommy safe. John promising that he would, that they would all be home before any of them had had chance to miss them; but he was wrong, so wrong, days stretching out into weeks, then months, and finally years. Years when all he could think about was returning to his best friend; to the woman whose picture he would always carry in his pocket.

He knew now that he should have realised it then; that the one he wanted to go home to was not his family, but to (Y/n). That he wanted to go home to her, because she meant more to him than just a friend. That the fact that if it hadn't been for Arthur stopping him, he would have gladly held Spencer Harris's head above the parapet so that the Germans could use it for target practice, when the slimy bastard had got a hold of (Y/n)'s picture, and had begun to make some very ungentlemanly comments about what he would like to do to her; as if she were some whore he might pick up, when he was on leave; should have told him that he was in love with the beautiful girl that had kept him going. But of course, he had been too blind to see it; too stupid to admit it. Yet that was then, and this was now. Now he could see what was obvious to so many other people; now he could see that (Y/n) was the only girl that he really wanted, the only girl that he really needed. And despite his aunt's insistence that he should let her talk to (Y/n) first, he could no longer fight the urge to see his best friend's beautiful face. To apologise to her for all that he had done; all that he hadn't done. All that he had put her though, and all that she had had to witness. He could no longer fight the urge to take her into his arms and finally tell her how much he truly loved her, before kissing her again. John making his way out of his aunt's home and quickly making his way to the other house; his hand hesitating for a second before pushing open the front door, the first thing that he saw, his oldest brother; Arthur smiling as he got to his feet and nodded towards the back room. John returning his smile, before making his way through the shop front.

"I love him, Pol, but I don't know what to do any more. I am so angry at him; part of me doesn't want to see him again, to just leave him to all the other girls that he seems to prefer. But the other part of me hates the idea that he will find someone else. That he won't come and have breakfast with me every morning. That Tommy won't send me with him, when he wants Johnny to do something. That he will have a family, and it won't be with me." John stopping as he heard (Y/n)'s voice, heard her confession. His heart hammering against the inside of his chest.

"(Y/n)......" Polly replied. John coming into the room before his aunt could say anymore. Polly smiling as him, as he slowly took off his cap and came to stand in front of her and (Y/n). The older woman nudging the younger female, until she looked up; her red eyes widening, as they fell on John. His smile getting wider as he crouched down in front of her and took her hand.

"You really want a family with me...........?"