PEAKY BLINDERS IMAGINES

John Shelby - 'All That Matters'

The clock on the wall ticked with quiet precision, the only sound filling the room as the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated the piles of paperwork that had slowly taken over your desk. It was well past the usual closing hours at the Shelby Company, and most of the staff had gone home for the night. But you, as always, had stayed behind, finishing up a few things for John.

You were his secretary-his right hand in the office. It was a job that had started as a simple office position, but as time went on, you found yourself caught between your professional duties and the undeniable chemistry that had been building between you and John Shelby.

The office was quiet, the kind of silence that felt thick with unspoken words, the kind of silence that made the air feel electric. As you shuffled through the last of the paperwork, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. You didn't have to look up to know who it was. There was no mistaking the way John walked-his boots clicking against the floor with an unmistakable authority, the heavy sway of his frame as he moved closer to your office.

When the door creaked open, you finally looked up, your heart giving an unexpected flutter when your eyes met his.

John stood in the doorway, his sharp suit and tie as perfect as always, but it was the way he looked at you that made your breath hitch. His eyes were dark, intent, as if he'd just walked into the room with an agenda all his own.

"You're still here?" he asked, his voice low, thick with something you couldn't quite place. It could have been surprise, but it sounded more like something else-something that made your pulse quicken.

"Just finishing up," you replied, your voice steady, but you couldn't help the slight tremble that entered it. You always felt this way when John was around, a mixture of attraction and tension that was impossible to ignore.

He stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The atmosphere shifted immediately, the air growing thick with anticipation. You set down the papers in your hands, your eyes drifting over John as he walked toward your desk, his gaze never leaving you.

"I don't like the idea of you working so late, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice now so close it made your skin prickle. "It's not good for you."

You tilted your head slightly, giving him a teasing smile. "I'm just doing my job, John. Someone has to make sure the paperwork gets done."

He leaned against your desk, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You could feel his eyes on you, the intensity in his gaze making your heart race. There was something in the way he looked at you-something primal, possessive. You weren't sure if it was the long day or the fact that you hadn't seen him since this morning, but the air between you seemed to hum with a charged energy, pulling you both closer together.

"I don't give a damn about paperwork, Y/N," he said, his voice rough, like he was barely holding back. "I've been thinking about you all day. And now here you are, all alone, still working. It's not right."

You met his gaze, your lips parting slightly as your heartbeat quickened. "You could've gone home. You didn't have to come back."

John smirked, but there was an edge to it, something that sent a shiver down your spine. "I didn't come back for the bloody paperwork. I came back for you."

You felt your breath catch at his words, the air thick with desire now. The tension between you two had always been there, simmering just below the surface. And now, with him standing so close, you felt it all bubble to the surface.

Before you could respond, John took a step forward, his hand gently brushing your cheek as he leaned in. His lips hovered over yours for a moment, the anticipation thick in the air. The space between you felt impossibly small, the magnetic pull between you undeniable. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw desire in his eyes that made your pulse race.

And then, with a soft, teasing smile, he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a force that left you breathless. The kiss was fierce, urgent-like he'd been starving for it all day. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, your hands instinctively reaching for the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

John's hands were everywhere-roaming down your arms, your sides, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. You could feel the intensity of his desire, the way his fingers burned against your skin. Your heart pounded as his lips left yours, trailing down to your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin there before moving lower, towards your neck.

"John..." you whispered, your voice strained with need.

He paused for a moment, his lips still hovering just above your skin as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "What is it, love?" he murmured, his breath hot against your neck.

You swallowed hard, the heat in your body now undeniable, as you reached for him, pulling him closer. "Don't stop," you breathed, your hands threading into his hair, tugging him back to you.

John's eyes darkened further, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips, before sliding under the fabric of your blouse. You gasped as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your stomach, the sensation sending a thrill of pleasure through you.

He didn't hesitate, his hands moving quickly, pulling your blouse off, tossing it aside as his lips trailed down to your collarbone, kissing and biting the sensitive skin there. You gasped, your body arching towards him as his touch sent waves of heat coursing through you. Every inch of you felt alive with him, your mind consumed by the feeling of his hands on your body.

His lips traveled lower, stopping at the edge of your bra before he glanced up at you, his gaze heated. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice hushed, almost possessive.

You didn't need to say anything. Instead, you simply nodded, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. John responded immediately, his hands expertly undoing the clasp of your bra before tossing it aside, his lips finding yours again in a heated kiss.

There was no more teasing, no more games. The moment had arrived, and both of you were consumed by it. The air around you felt thick with desire, the sounds of your breaths mingling with the soft rustle of clothing being discarded. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise, an unspoken understanding that this was what you both needed.

John's hands were on your back, lifting you onto the desk as he stood between your legs. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his body pressed against yours, the heat of him sending a wave of anticipation crashing over you. You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt.

The tension between you had finally snapped, and in its place was only the raw, passionate need that had been building for far too long. And as John finally took you in his arms, claiming you in the way only he could, there was nothing but him and you-lost in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that had been building between you for so long.

As the night wore on, the world outside the office seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, tangled in each other, your bodies speaking the language of desire that words couldn't capture. And when it was over, when you both lay spent and breathless, wrapped in each other's arms, there was nothing left to say.

You were his, and he was yours. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.