#isiah jesus fanfiction

[queenshelby]

Caught Stealing (One Shot)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader x Isiah Jesus

Warning: CNC! SMUT! MMF! There is a twist at the end for those who are uncomfortable reading this. 🤣

Do not read if you are uncomfortable with this topic!

As you stumble into the dimly lit room, adrenaline surges through your veins, clutching at your throat. Your heart races against your chest, threatening to burst from the tension consuming every fibre of your being. Your vision blurs slightly, and your body trembles involuntarily, a shiver rolling through your frame, betraying your nervousness.

Tommy leans in close, his breath ghosting across your cheek as he whispers something only you can hear. "Don't worry, Love," he murmurs, his voice carrying the same menace that always seems to lurk just beneath the surface. "If you obey me, this won't be as painful as you may think." His words swirl like an alluring dance in your ears, enticing you further into the darkness surrounding you.

His hands glide over your skin, sending a wave of shivers coursing through your veins. Despite your resistance, you find yourself unable to pull away. Your willpower weakens under the relentless pressure of his touch.

Isiah, another member of the gang, stands close by, watching with an air of expectation. His eyes are alight with anticipation, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that borders on disturbing mixed with a hint of surprise.

Your thoughts spiral wildly. Your escape seems impossible now as Tommy's grip tightens, holding you firmly in place. Panic wells up inside you, threatening to choke you as you struggle against his grasp. With each desperate attempt to break free, you realize just how little control you have over the situation. The thought of giving in terrifies you even more than the potential consequences of defiance.

Isiah watches, unblinking, his expression betraying no emotion. His arms folded across his broad chest, conveying a sense of power and dominance.

As you try to wriggle free from his grasp, his grip only tightens. 

"Hold her for me, Isiah. I want to make sure she obeys," Tommy orders and suddenly, you feel another pair of hands gripping your waist. Your entire body quakes with apprehension, your breath catching in your throat.

"Now, what I am going to do to you, Love, will bring me great pleasure, and you should consider it as payment for your indiscretions, eh?" Tommy then says before ordering you to drop onto your knees, but you refuse. 

"No," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the thudding of your own heart. But Tommy's smile widens, knowing he has gotten under your skin.

With a sudden, swift motion, Isiah lifts you off the ground effortlessly, placing you onto your knees.

“Do as he says!” he spits as you collapse to the floor; the cold, hard surface bites into your flesh, causing you to wince in pain. But the agony is momentary, replaced by the burning sensation of sweet humiliation.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to shed them. With your face contorted in silent fury, you look up at Tommy, meeting his eyes head-on, determined not to let him see what is consuming you from within.

"You are going to put that mouth of yours to good use now, won't you Love?" Tommy chuckles as Isiah maintains his grip on you, his presence looming large in the background.

Your gaze flickers towards him, unable to hide the mix of humiliation and defiance within it. You can tell he finds immense enjoyment in witnessing your torment, his smug grin making your skin crawl.

Despite your resistance, Tommy continues to manipulate you, expertly twisting your feelings into a knot of confusion and dread. Your heartbeat quickens, and sweat breaks out along your brow as you struggle against his unwavering control.

The taste of bile rises in your throat, threatening to consume you whole. Your muscles tense, ready for battle despite the odds stacked against you. But Tommy remains unfazed, confident in his ability to break you.

As Isiah continues to hold you in place, you can't help but notice the malicious gleam in his eyes, mirroring Tommy's. It dawns on you that they both share a common trait - a sadistic pleasure derived from inflicting pain.

Soon, Tommy unbuckles his belt and Isiah pushes down on your shoulders, holding you in place for his leader.

You feel your stomach turn, the sight of him looming so close, sending shivers down your spine.

"Remember, Love, this will hurt a lot less if you cooperate, so open up that sweet little mouth of yours," he warns, his voice low and dark.

The sound of his zipper lowering causes your heart to race faster, the dread building within you. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you forcefully clench your jaw.

His hand grazes your cheek tenderly, his voice taking on a softer tone. "I promise you, it will be over soon." You shake your head violently, but Isiah's grip on your shoulder tightens, his fingers digging into your skin.

Your body shudders, your nails digging into your palms as you resist him.

"Please don't, Mr Shelby," you whimper, your voice raw, and Tommy laughs mockingly, leaning in closer still.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you ask, though you know fully why he's here. His smirk deepens, a mixture of arrogance and cruelty.

"Because I want to," he answers simply, without remorse. "And because you belong to me, Love," The words sear into your soul, leaving you feeling utterly defeated.

"Now open your mouth," Tommy ordered, his voice commanding. You could almost taste the anticipation simmering beneath the surface as you slowly complied, parting your lips.

As you submit to his will, you fight back, clenching your teeth together when you have a chance.

Isiah releases his grip on your shoulder, moving behind you to stand by Tommy's side. Their combined presence sends shivers down your spine, the air thick with their perverse desire.

You look at them, emotions burning brightly in your eyes as thoughts scream out of your mind. In a world where you once had control, you now find yourself helpless amongst these men. Your heart pounds furiously in your chest, the beating echoing loudly in your ears, drowning out any lingering contradictory thoughts.

"Open wider," Tommy orders, his voice laced with authority. You follow his command, opening your mouth as wide as you can. Your lips stretch to accommodate his size and Tommy pauses, his eyes narrowing, assessing your submission. "Good girl," he whispers, his voice dripping with sinister sweetness.

He presses forward, his erection filling your mouth. Your jaw aches from the strain, but you remain stoic, unwilling to show him any sign of weakness.

Isiah watches intently, a faint smile curling his lips as he takes in the spectacle unfolding before him. He revels in your misery, drawing strength from it.

Each groan of discomfort is music to his ears, fuelling Tommy’s ego as he pushes his length into your throat. Your tears, falling freely down your cheeks, serve as a testament to his power over you. Yet, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of breaking you completely.

The weight of his erection presses down on your tongue, choking you with its size as he withdraws and then pushes in again, groaning. The room recedes into the background, leaving you isolated in a pool of darkness. You are consumed by a profound sense of anguish as the taste of his precum in your mouth mingles with the bitter tang of your own humiliation, a combination that makes you want to gag. But you resist, maintaining your composure despite the unbearable discomfort.

Your resolve was steadfast; you refused to break, even when he began to thrust inside your mouth with more force. The relentless movement sends waves of pain coursing through your skull, threatening to shatter it. Each thrust elicits a guttural growl from your throat as you fight the urge to gag. Your stomach roils, your vision blurs, and your knees buckle under the strain.

The pain you are experiencing becomes too much to bear, but your determination not to surrender fuels your tenacity. Gritting your teeth, you refuse to collapse under the pressure. The corners of your mouth turn up grimly, fighting back the tears that sting at the back of your eyes.

You feel your body tremble with the effort of staying upright, yet you refuse to crumble under the strain. Your willpower alone serves as a barrier against the onslaught of his brutality.

Your eyes eventually lock with Tommy's, seeing the twisted glint of satisfaction in his gaze. He knows he has you right where he wants you, your power drained away by his control.

His hands clasped firmly around your neck, his grasp tightening ever so slightly. You choke back a sob, struggling to breathe. You look into his eyes, trying to find any hint of mercy, but all you see is his desire to dominate you completely. His hold on you only increases, your body quivering under his touch.

Isiah watches silently, relishing in the power dynamic between you two. His eyes betray nothing but pure satisfaction, knowing that he plays a crucial role in this domination game.

"I am close, Love, and I expect you to swallow, eh?" Tommy groaned gruffly, pushing deeper into your mouth as Tommy was nearing his climax.

You clench your jaw tightly as you attempt to hold back a gag when he bottoms out in your throat again. The pressure builds, becoming nearly unbearable, and yet you refuse to give in to the impulse. Instead, you focus on the task at hand, pushing past the agony to maintain your self-control.

Isiah's eyes gleam with excitement, observing your struggles with a keen interest. He revels in the challenge, anticipating the moment when you finally succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

As your eyes widen with panic, Tommy holds his breath, savouring the taste of victory just beyond his grasp as his length begins to throb and he groans more loudly. 

"Fuck Love, that's it. Let me cum in that filthy little mouth of yours." he spat out, his voice hoarse and raw with desire. Your eyes widen as you can already feel his release drawing near. With renewed determination, you summon every ounce of strength within you, battling against the onslaught of his imminent orgasm.

Isiah watches closely, his face etched with anticipation, waiting for the final act to play out. As Tommy's breath quickens, you feel the first stirrings of his release before; finally, his cum pours into your throat,

His body shakes with the force of his orgasm, the hot liquid spurting forth, splashing against the walls of your mouth and throat. Your mouth fills with the bitterness of his semen, the tang hitting your tongue. Your lips part involuntarily, allowing some of the vile fluid to leak out onto your chin.

You can feel the warmth as it drips down your face, mixing with your tears. The taste of his semen lingers on your tongue, and Tommy steps back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tries to regain his composure. His eyes are dark and dangerous, his expression a mix of triumph and arousal. Isiah, having witnessed the entire exchange, watches you with a cruel smile, revelling in your humiliation.

Your heart races wildly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, and you try desperately to wipe the traces of his semen off your face. But it lingers, a reminder of the events that transpired. You are filled with shame and a potent cocktail of emotions that boil within you.

"Now get up, Love. I will have your cunt next," Tommy then orders with a grin, his words dripping with malice.

You rise slowly, your legs trembling from the aftermath of what just transpired. The lingering taste of his semen still coats your tongue, and your eyes burn with unshed tears.

Isiah watches, his gaze cold and calculating. He knows how far Tommy can push you without losing control entirely.

"No. You are done, Tommy!" you cursed, causing Tommy to become angry. 

"I am done when I say I am done. Now bend over the fucking desk," Tommy said as he held your gaze, his eyes narrowing with menace. You could feel the air in the room grow thick with tension, like the seconds before a storm breaks. Isiah stood silently behind him, his presence adding to the mounting pressure.

You hesitate, your body trembling with fear and dread. But you know that resistance would only provoke him further, so you comply, bending over the desk as instructed.

Tommy grabs a bottle of lubricant from his desk, uncapping it with a practised gesture. The smell of it fills the air, causing your stomach to churn. His eyes drift downward, taking in your vulnerability, his predatory instincts aroused.

"Do you want me to hold her down for you, Tommy?" Isiah asked with a sneer, enjoying the prospect of participating in the act.

"Yes, do that. I don’t want her to move" Tommy ordered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Isiah stepped forward, his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk.

Meanwhile, Tommy leans in, pressing his lips against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Relax, Love. It will only hurt a little bit," Tommy lied, his voice cold and devoid of empathy.

Isiah's hands tightened their grip on your waist, forcing you into position. Your body feels on edge, anticipating the pain and fearing the unknown. As Tommy prepares himself, you brace yourself for the assault. 

The feeling of vulnerability intensifies as Tommy positions himself behind you and runs his fingers over your slit.

"No lube needed Love. You are wet enough," he determines as his fingers tease your entrance, igniting a wave of fire in your core.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your muscles tense in anticipation as Tommy lines himself up with your core.

With a single swift thrust, he penetrates you, filling you with a sense of helplessness and violation. The pain that ripples through your body causes you to cry out, unable to suppress the pained sobs that echo through the silent room.

Isiah leans over you, watching intently as you writhe beneath Tommy's onslaught. His eyes glow with sadistic pleasure, his face devoid of sympathy for your suffering. You feel utterly abandoned and vulnerable, caught in a web of their depravity.

Your body aches with every thrust, your mind reeling from the reality of your situation. Desperate to escape, you yearn for a chance to break free from this nightmare.

Tommy's movements grow more forceful, his hips pumping faster and harder. The feeling of being taken by him is exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

As you struggle to hold back the rising tide of pleasure, Isiah watches, a sinister grin playing across his lips.

His hands clamp down on your shoulders, anchoring you to the desk, trapping you in this hellish torment. Your eyes fill with anguish, the pain of his assault overwhelming your very soul.

"You are nice and tight, aren't you?" Tommy groaned in a rough tone, pulling you closer to him. His movements became more demanding, his body shaking with the force of his passion. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your heart racing in your chest. Isiah watched, his grin widening as he saw the growing agony on your face.

He knew exactly how to inflict pain, knowing it would be his weapon against you. You felt the searing heat of his touch, your body trembling in response.

"Now, perhaps my friend here can get to the other side of the desk and use your mouth while I fuck this tight little cunt of yours, eh?" Tommy proposed, his voice dripping with sinister intent. Isiah obliged, striding around the desk with a predatory grin, the anticipation of his turn clear in his eyes. He grasped your head firmly, using his free hand to pull your hair back, exposing your neck.

Your heart raced as you struggled to remain composed under the weight of their depraved plans as Isiah unclasped his belt.

The sound of metal clinking against metal sent shivers down your spine, a mixture of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins. Isiah's hand slid along your cheek, his touch both soft and cruel, mirroring the duality of his nature.

"So tell me, Love," Isiah purred, his voice low and seductive. "What do you think about being used by two men at once?" Isiah asked as he finally pushed down his pants, revealing his reaction.

“Are you excited or scared?" Isiah continued, his voice full of anticipation. His grip on your neck tightened slightly, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You forced yourself to appear composed, trying to mask your true feelings from these monsters.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Love," Tommy interjected, his tone cold and mocking before telling Isiah to get into your mouth.

Isiah moved closer, his gaze holding yours captive as he positioned himself over your face. His proximity made you feel even more vulnerable, your breath coming in rapid gasps. Your heart raced as you awaited his next move, the anticipation of his touch heightening your anxiety.

As Isiah pressed his hardened member against your lips, your mouth opened reflexively, instinctively seeking to accommodate his size. The sensation of his rigid flesh pushing against your lips evoked a mixture of repulsion and fascination.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with Isiah. The tension in the room grew thicker, and the atmosphere charged with sexual anticipation.

Tommy, meanwhile, continued his assault upon your body, his rhythm becoming more forceful as he relished the power he held over you. His eyes were dark and intense, burning with raw desire. He took pleasure in your suffering, relishing the fact that you were powerless to resist his advances.

Isiah's hands grasped your head firmly, his grip imposing and unforgiving. Your neck bore the brunt of his grip, straining against the pressure as he guided your head towards his engorged member.

You took him into your mouth, keeping it open so that he could use you and, eventually, the room fell quiet as the tension reached its peak, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.

Neither Tommy nor Isiah would relent, their malicious intentions clear in their determined expressions. As they both held you captive, bound by their twisted desires, your thoughts raced wildly.

Eventually, after about 15 minutes of torment, Tommy pulled out of you and ordered Isiah to do the same.

"I still have her ass to fuck, and time is running out," Tommy determined.

"We better hurry up then, Tommy," Isiah agreed.

"I need you to hold her down for that. She won't like it when I shove my cock into her ass," Tommy said, and as you processed what had just happened, they began preparing you for their next act. Isiah moved around the desk, positioning himself behind you again. Tommy held a small vial containing a strange liquid substance, which he applied liberally onto his erect member.

Without warning, Isiah grabbed your hips, pulling you up and back onto the desk. His eyes burned with hunger, his lips curling into a snarl.

"I want you to know what it feels like to be owned," Tommy whispered, his words carrying a dark undertone. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, fear and anticipation melding together in a cocktail of emotions. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, your body betraying your terror as you tried to compose yourself.

"And what better way would there be to show you than to fill your stomach with my seed, eh?" Tommy groaned before instructing Isiah to hold you down while Tommy penetrated your anal cavity with his finger. 

Isiah obeyed without hesitation, his strong arms clenching your hips and pinning you down. Your entire body shook with dread, fearing the agonizing pain you knew was imminent. As Tommy's fingers probed your tight, virgin passage, you writhed in desperation, attempting to break free from the confines of Isiah's iron grip.

Tommy laughed cruelly, taking delight in your misery. "Just relax, love. It will only hurt for a little while," He assured you, his eyes glinting with malice as he pulled away his finger and replaced it with his cock.

The thought of him entering your most private place was repulsive, your body tensing in anticipation of the inevitable pain. You could feel the pressure building, the muscles in your abdomen clenching as you tried to brace yourself for the impending invasion.

As he prepared to push forward, you braced yourself, mentally preparing for the agony that would follow. Isiah tightened his grip on your hips, his strength making escape impossible.

You tried to scream, but his large hand covered your mouth, silencing your pleas. Fear consumed you as you felt the cold tip of Tommy's member pressing against your opening. Despite your struggle, you could not stop him from forcing his way into your most intimate space.

As he entered you, your body arched in protest, your muscles tensing to resist the intrusion. But the pain only intensified, burning deep within your core. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you fought to maintain consciousness.

"Fuck you are tight. You don't want this, do you?" Tommy groaned, pushing deeper into your now quivering body. "Doesn't matter, you're going to take it." His voice held a mix of malice and triumph as if he derived satisfaction from his actions. His movements grew savage, each thrust causing fresh waves of pain to shoot through your system.

Despite your efforts to hold back the sobs, they escaped anyway, causing your body to tremble. Isiah, witnessing your distress, chuckled darkly, finding amusement in your pain.

"She really doesn't like this, does she?" He commented to Tommy, who replied with a smirk. "Oh, but she will once we've had our way with her. Just relax, Love. It will all be over soon." His words did little to reassure you, as the pain only intensified with each passing moment.

Throughout this ordeal, your thoughts were consumed by a mixture of anxiety and desperation. Your body ached, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving trails of salty residue on your skin. Every part of you screamed for release, but there seemed to be no end in sight. Isiah's presence loomed over you, casting a shadow of menace across the room.

Their brutish laughter echoed through the chamber, filling you with a renewed sense of terror. Your limbs trembled with exhaustion, and what Tommy proposed next sends shockwaves through your core.

"Lay her down on the floor, Isiah. You can fuck her cunt while I have her ass, eh?" Tommy then suggested, a wicked grin etched on his face.

"Sounds good, Tommy." Isiah nodded, his excitement evident in his voice.

Without further ado, they separated, and Isiah laid down, pulling you atop of him while Tommy approached you from behind, grasping your waist firmly and pushing his length through your tight rim again before Isiah could even penetrate your pussy.

As the unbearable pain shot through your body, your stomach churned violently. This was beyond anything you ever imagined possible, beyond any dream you could have conjured.

"Let's fill her up, shall we?" Tommy then suggested, his voice dripping with malevolence before, suddenly, you felt Isiah entering you as well, causing you to scream and try to get away.

"Come on, Love, hold still and let us both enjoy these tight holes of yours," Tommy growled as his hand clamped down firmly on your shoulder, holding you steady as he thrust into you again. The sensation of being filled again was almost too much to bear, your mind reeling with despair and a hint of pleasure.

Your heart raced, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. You steeled yourself, trying to ignore the throbbing pain as Tommy's member stretched your tight ring of muscle and Isiah thrust in and out of your pussy. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pain and pleasure coursing through your body, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

As the brutal act continued, your body ached, every muscle in your lower half screaming in protest while also wanting more as you had two men inside of you, filling you to the brim.

Their forceful movements threatened to split you apart, your muscles quivering under the strain.

Cries of both, pleasure and humiliation eventually erupted from your lips, unleashing your pent-up emotions.

"She is nice and full now, eh?" Tommy groaned, and Isiah chimed in, his voice heavy with sadistic pleasure. "Yes, she certainly makes a lovely pair for us."

Their voices echoed around the room, taunting you with each word. The air thickened with sexual tension, their raw power and dominance suffocating you.

"Let's fill her up with cum, make her remember this." Tommy then orders, thrusting harder into your rear passage.

"That sounds right, Tommy. Let's fuck her till she can't walk. Tell me when you are ready to cum inside her, and I will pull out and shoot my load in her mouth," Isiah agreed, slamming into your pussy with renewed vigour, finally sending you over the edge.

“Fuck”, you cursed, trying to hold back your release, but the climax was not something you could stop in it’s tracks. It hit you like a freight train, and with each violent thrust, their cocks twisted inside you, sending shockwaves of ecstasy throughout your body.

"I am ready now. I am ready to fill her ass with cum," Tommy groaned, his words filled with dark passion, spurred on by the evidence of your orgasm.

"Go ahead, Tommy. Shoot your load in her." Isiah encouraged while pulling out of you, his voice heavy with lust as he took his position in front of your mouth.

Then, Tommy's body tensed, the grip of his hands turning vice-like as he reached his climax. 

“There you go, Love. Take my cum" he released his seed into your body, a wave of searing heat coursed through you, engulfing you in its intensity and him spilling himself inside of you felt like gasoline pouring into your body until, eventually, he pulled out.

Isiah followed suit, his powerful muscles flexing as he unloaded his own seed into your mouth. As he released his semen, it cascaded down your throat, filling your mouth with the taste of his power and domination. You gagged, struggling to swallow it all and, just as you did, your sense of self-control broke, and you grinned.

"Not bad Isiah” you joked, while licking the remnants of his cum from your lips.

"Thank your Mrs Shelby," Isiah said, blushing. "I hope we weren't too rough with you," he then acknowledged, causing Tommy to laugh.

"Rough? I doubt that. She usually likes it even rougher than this, with fucking restraints and all" Tommy explained and you nodded, telling Isiah that, next time, you will want him to assert even more control than he did tonight.

Both of them smiled, pleased by your reaction. "Well, we'll see about that," Isiah responded. "Next time Love, we will have you tied up and I get half of my men to take turns" Tommy added.  And you couldn't help but feel a thrill running through you at the prospect of submitting even more to their will.

[evita-shelby]

Reader insert Masterlist

Part 2

(Masterlist 1)

Ran out of space lol

Tommy Shelby

Only Joys will come (part iii of nights on the January)

Happy wife Happy life (drunk!Tommy x wife)

Promise (tommy x sick!reader)

Chance (tommy x ex!reader)

Ths Red Room (tommy x reader x eva) vampire!au

Torture (tommy x wife!reader)

Fatal Attraction (tommy x assassin!reader)

Cuddling(part 2 for happy wife happy life)

Death shall set you free (tommy x wife!reader)

The Devil of Small Heath (kelpie!Tommy x witch!reader)

A Dull Party (Tommy x Eva/Reader x Tatiana)🔞

Moon (tommy x witch!reader)

Lamb(sequel to moon)

Crawl home to you(tommy x wife!reader)

Dad!Tommy fics

Ghosts of New Year's Past (Tommy & Diane(oc daughter) & Polly’s Ghost)

Promise? (Tommy & adopted!daughter)

Luca Changretta

Persistence (luca x shelby sister)

The fabulous miss shelby (part 3)

Two for One (Luca x reader x Eva)

Jack Nelson

The professor

Hunt(vampire hunter au)

Michael Gray

Finn Shelby

Preacher's Daughter (kid!finn x Jeremiah's duaghter!reader)

Isiah Jesus

[runnning-outof-time]

Ok, I’m Curious…

Feel free to share and say why in the tags!

[hb-writes]

Little Lady Blinder - Chapter 33

Uncertainties, 1919

Also available here on ff net or here on AO3.

Chapter Content Warning: canon-typical content

Clara startled awake to find she wasn’t at home in her own bed. She was sprawled out on John’s living room floor, her nieces and nephews all around her, a bundle of pillows and blankets spread out on the carpet. But it was quiet, the only sound in the house was the soft snoring of the kids…and some rustling up the stairs. 

Clara rubbed her eyes. There was light coming in through the windows, so it was morning, but early enough that the kids were still asleep. She wondered when or how she’d fallen asleep, and for how long. She felt rested for the first time in a long stretch. 

Whatever had happened, Clara certainly hadn’t meant to fall asleep the night before. Lizzie and the kids had done a good job in distracting her for the day, but Clara and Tommy had plans so she had wanted to know as soon as they were back so she could get home and prepare. Clara had expected the worst after breakfast the day before, after what Joseph had said, but the day had gone rather smooth—an exhausting, whirlwind of activity, sure, but good day nonetheless. They’d gone to a children’s tea, played games on the way back, had a scavenger hunt and built a fort for the kids to pretend to sleep out in the living room. 

Clara had joined the kids in the fort once completed, but she hadn’t intended to stay over. She had a sleeping out of her own to prepare for, but she’d fallen asleep before the boys arrived home. She assumed it had just been very, very late by the time they all made it back to Small Heath. 

Because if something had gone wrong…well, Clara assumed someone would’ve woken her. That’s what she told herself at least. If John hadn't come home or if he’d been hurt, Lizzie would have woken her straightaway. And if it was someone else…well, John would have woken her. 

Clara was sure of it. 

She turned over in her makeshift bed when footsteps sounded on the top of the stairs, Lizzie’s soft giggle trailing down to her on the living room floor. Beside her, Clara saw Robbie’s eyes open, a sleepy smile on his little face. Clara held a finger to her lips and Robbie nodded, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep, letting out deep, exaggerated breaths. 

Clara waited for John and Lizzie to head out through the back before beckoning her nephew up. Together, the two of them traipsed over the sleeping bodies on their way to the kitchen. Lizzie’s basket was gone from the counter, but a few biscuits had been left behind on a plate in the center of the table. 

“Can we play again today?” Robbie asked, climbing up on a chair to take a biscuit. 

Clara shook her head. “Not today.”

Robbie deflated a bit in front of her. “Why not?”

“I have to go home. Uncle Tommy’s…” Clara considered it…why couldn’t Robbie come? It was meant to be just her and Tommy, but she figured he wouldn’t mind their nephew coming along. Robbie was the youngest, but he was never much trouble. Not compared to the rest of them, and Clara had enjoyed her time with him yesterday.

“I’m supposed to spend the day with Tommy, but maybe we can ask—”

“Mornin’,” John said as he came back through the door, mussing both kids’ hair as he reached out for a biscuit and leaned back against the counter.

“Lizzie said you lot behaved yourselves.” 

Clara considered that. She supposed that overall, the kids had behaved though Joseph had been short with the poor woman throughout the day.

“She especially likes you, mate,” John grinned as he looked at his son. 

“I like Lizzie,” Robbie said.

“Me too, mate.” John popped another biscuit in his mouth. “I’m going to get some more sleep. Don’t wake the others yet, yeah?”

Robbie stood up on the chair, reaching out for John and clasping his arm before he headed through the kitchen doorway. “Can I go with Clara today?”

John glanced at his sister. “You want him with you?”

Clara hesitated just a moment before nodding. “Can we go now?” 

John shrugged. “If you want. Should be late enough now that Aunt Pol won’t drag you two off to church.” 

And they could have a more substantial breakfast back home, Clara figured. A couple of biscuits weren’t fuel enough for an adventure like the one she had planned.

“Alright, mate," John said. "Go get dressed.” 

Robbie scooted off the chair.

“Something warm,” Clara added as he moved toward the door, leaving Clara and John alone. 

John pulled out a chair, sitting down beside her. 

“Thank you,” John said. “Lizzie had no complaints. Said you weren’t a grump, either.” 

John leaned to the side, fishing out his bill fold and setting a few notes on the table. 

“You did good,” he confirmed. 

Clara didn’t think she’d done much, though. It had been Lizzie who navigated all of the issues and tended to Robbie when he’d been upset. It was Lizzie who had done all the planning and the cooking and Clara had felt more that she was just along for the ride than that she had been especially responsible for helping with anything. 

Clara left the bills sitting on the table between them and turned to her. “How was the races?”

“Good,” John said, taking another biscuit.

“They went late,” Clara offered, the words somewhere between a question and a statement. “The races?”

“Nah," John shook his head as he chewed and swallowed the biscuit. "We were celebrating at the Garrison.”

“Arthur and Tommy, too?”

John shook his head again. “Just Arthur and the boys.” 

“Oh,” Clara nodded. 

“You know how Tommy is,” he offered, studying her response. 

Clara did know how Tommy was, but she still didn’t quite know what John meant. She didn't know what it meant that Tommy hadn't joined them in celebrating. She didn't know what it meant that he hadn't come to find her, either, and a bit of uncertainty curled into her stomach.

“You need me for anything else before you go?” 

Clara shook her head, already deep enough in her own thoughts that there was nothing John could do to help her, nothing Clara would allow him to do to help.  

“Alright then," John said as he stood up. "I’m back to bed before this lot wakes up. Go out through the back. Keep it down.” 

--

As Clara and Robbie walked back to the house, the boy talked non-stop about their day with Lizzie, chattering on and on, but Clara was busy packing her bag in her mind, trying to remember everything that they’d need, strategizing on how she’d ask her brother to let Robbie tag along. 

Clara imagined her brother was already awake. It wasn’t very early—already past the hour Charlie had offered to walk with her to the yard, and far past when Tommy usually elected to stay in his bed. 

Either way, they’d have to be quiet, and Robbie had to let her do the talking. Clara told him as much as she fumbled around for the hidden key, unlatching the back door and letting them both into the quiet of the kitchen. Clara directed Robbie to the sitting room out front, settling him on the couch before backtracking through the dining room to draw back the shop’s curtain. 

She pushed aside the very sudden thought that Tommy might be mad at her, that she was supposed to come back home from John’s last night to make sure there’d be no delay with their sleeping out, but the thought quickly vanished as the quiet stillness of the office took over her.

Clara passed her nephew in the parlor again, pressing a finger to her lips as she moved through the room and headed up the stairs. 

Tommy’s door was shut, all the doors in the hall were. It was normal these days for Ada’s to be shut, and Finn was sleeping later and later these days, but not Tommy. 

She knocked lightly on the wood, waiting a few seconds but hearing nothing, not even when she pressed her ear against the wood to listen. 

“He already left.” Clara spun on her heel at the voice, her heart pounding as a hand reached out to catch her before she stumbled. “Just ten minutes ago,” Isiah added as he stood in Clara’s now open doorway. 

Clara had questions—she wanted to know where Tommy went and she wanted to know why Isiah was in her bedroom—but both questions died on her lips when she spotted the cuts and bruising on Isiah’s face. 

Clara pushed her loose hair from her face, her fingertips brushing over the scar on her brow. 

“Just a scratch,” Isiah said, a cheeky grin on his face as he leaned back into the door frame. “Didn’t even need stitches.” 

Clara nodded, unable to pull her gaze properly away from Isiah’s face, her mind subconsciously looking for more evidence of injury. 

“You should see the other guy,” he said, nudging her.

“Is Finn—?”

“He's fine,” Isiah interrupted. “Passed out sleeping though.” 

Clara meant to ask after the others—after Tommy and Arthur, and her cousins and everyone else who’d gone off to Cheltenham yesterday, but Robbie appeared at the top of the stairs before she could voice any of it.

“Did you ask him yet?” Robbie asked, the excitement in his voice falling as Clara started shaking her head. 

“Maybe we’ll just play around the house instead,” Clara ventured. “...See if he comes back soon and then we’ll ask…or maybe we can see if Uncle Charlie’ll still have us...or…”

Clara’s mind was seeking alternatives, spurred on a bit by the frown on her nephew’s face, but her heart wasn’t in it, her problem solving hindered, clouded over, by the hurt and confusion and worry.

They’d made a plan. Tommy had promised no one would get hurt. And he’d promised they’d sleep out. They’d make a day of it. That’s what he’d said. Clara had been certain he would keep his word. Certain that her brother would come through. He'd promised.

“You can spend the day with me and Finn,” Isiah said, still leaning against the door frame as he watched his friend shifting through her thoughts.

The mere suggestion charged Robbie, a smile growing on his face, but Clara was slower to warm, cautious not of Isiah and his words. She knew it was an offer that she could trust, but of the idea of spending the day out with him and her brother unsettled her a bit. It had been a long time since Clara had passed one of her days out with the boys.

The boys tended to stray from home. They tended to cause trouble. Just days ago now Clara had been left dealing with her brother’s trouble and she wasn’t sure she wanted more. 

Clara had been doing her best to stay clear of all that. 

But Isiah was smiling at her, his eyes warm and bright as his eyebrows rose and fell a few times, the gesture taunting her as his smile reminded her what it was to pass a day by his side.

Clara huffed, just a quiet bit of resistance offered before she rolled her eyes, a quiet bit of curiosity stowed in her features. 

“What do you have planned?” she finally asked.

Isiah shrugged. He knew Clara was already hooked despite the hesitation she was putting on. It didn’t much matter what Isiah had to offer her, what his plans were for the day. Some part of Clara knew it would be far better than sitting around here wallowing and trying to entertain the nephew she’d brought along for the ride.

“Yesterday was payday,” Isiah said, reaching into his pocket and producing a sleek handful of money.

Since John had paid Clara, they were both flush with cash. Clara hadn’t even been expecting payment for helping out with the kids, but either way, the money was in her pocket. It was a gift that was certainly more than she had deserved, but John had been in a good mood and he was always generous when he was in a good mood. 

“We could go to the pictures,” Isiah said.

“But I don’t have any money,” Robbie whined. 

“That’s alright, mate,” Isiah answered. “Go wake Finn and I’ll spot you.” 

Robbie grinned, heading down the hallway without another word, and Isiah watched him go, waiting until turned into Finn’s bedroom before looking back to Clara. 

She was looking at her brother’s door, Tommy’s door. 

“He seemed in a hurry,” Isiah offered. “Something important.” 

Clara nodded, pushing her hurt down beneath the excuse Isiah offered on her brother's behalf. She didn't know if he had said the words to make her feel better or to protect her brother. Isiah didn't know wither.

Tommy hadn't left her a note. He clearly hadn't been even remotely concerned about her when he left, but Clara was already trying to move past Isiah to find some paper in her bedroom.

“We should leave them a—”

On the floor below, a key fit into the door that led in off the lane, cutting Clara off. She raced past Isiah, moving down half a flight of stairs before Polly stepped into view, removing her hat as she looked up the steps. 

“You missed a fine service,” Polly said. “Where’s your brother?” 

Clara was prepared to answer fully, giving her aunt an account of each and every Shelby boy. Finn was asleep in his bed. John was home with the kids. Tommy was…out. And Clara assumed Arthur was still down the lane, asleep in his own bed. She was tempted, but that answer sounded like she was being smart, even in her own head. And Clara knew who Polly was really asking after, anyway. 

“Isiah said he went out.” 

Polly nodded, her gaze moving to the boy who stood at the top step. “Something important, I suppose,” she said, though Clara had the distinct feeling that Polly had no idea why Tommy wasn’t home…wasn’t where she expected him to be. 

“And Finn?”

“He’s waking up,” Robbie said, venturing down the stairs and moving past Clara until he was within arms’ reach of Polly. “Isiah said I can go to the pictures with them. He’s gonna spot me.”  

Polly lifted the boy from the stairs, holding him on her hip for a moment. 

“And who said you four were going to the pictures?”

“We were gonna—” Clara started to explain her plan to leave a note. It wasn’t exactly aking permission, but it was something. 

“Tommy was supposed to take me and Clara to sleep out, but he’s not here so we’re going to the pictures instead.” 

Polly hummed, setting Robbie back on the steps as she studied her niece and the way she'd stayed quiet, letting the little boy provide the explanations. 

“Well, you’d best go have something to eat before you go,” Polly said, directing Robbie towards the kitchen. “Best go search the cupboards.”

Polly beckoned Clara down the last few steps. Clara trailed behind her aunt as she walked through the dining room and into the shop, heading straight for the safe. She lingered a few paces away as her aunt leaned down to lean inside. 

“No reason to take any money from that boy,” Polly said as she turned to hand Clara a small amount of money. “Family fund,” she added, as she guided Clara back through the shop.

“Can I have some?” Finn asked as he peeked his head around the curtains, a piece of bread and jam in his mouth. 

“Your sister can carry it,” Polly said as they stepped into the dining room where the boys were all eating. “And I want you four to stick together. You go straight to the theater and stay away from the Cut,” Polly continued. “You watch your nephew. And you listen to Isiah. He’s in charge.” 

Isiah beamed, but only for a minute, the smile on his face slipping away as Polly continued on.

“And if anything happens, you’ll deal with me,” she said, her gaze directed at Isiah. “Keeping out of trouble may be hard, but I’ll promise you Aunt Polly’s boot is harder. And find your father while you're out. Invite him to supper.” 

--

By the time the kids made it to the end of Watery Lane, Polly’s words were akin to a distant memory to the boys, with Finn and Robbie wandering off ahead without a care. Finn had already taken the money from Polly off his sister for safekeeping, and he was spouting off, directing what they’d be doing with their day without stopping to gather the opinions of those around him.

Clara hesitated before the door to number 6 went out of view, stilling on the cobblestone and making Isiah backtrack a few steps to stay with her. 

“What is it?” 

Clara shook her head, taking a few steps forward. 

“Come on now,” Isiah said. He nudged her with a gentle arm. “You really think there’ll be trouble with me by your side?” 

Clara stared at him for a long moment before shrugging. It wasn’t too long ago that the two of them had been bested by the coppers, both of them worse off for the encounter, but things were different now. 

Isiah was taller. Something in his face seemed changed. Older. Confident.

And he was a Peaky Blinder now—well, sort of one. 

“I’ve got ya and you’ve got me, yeah?” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Heard from Finn you’ve been scrappin’ again. Probably don’t even need any of my help in a fight.” 

Clara shrugged again, kicking at a pebble as she started walking. She wasn’t proud of the fight, even if they’d won. And she didn’t see Isiah grinning at her, focused as she was on her dirty boots as they moved through the streets.

“What really happened at the races?” she finally mumbled, sneaking a glance at him and finding her gaze lingering on his new scar again. 

Isiah tapped the pebble Clara had been moving along before looking to her. The question felt like a test, one where there was no right answer. But he’d promised her nothing would change. Isiah had promised her that him being a Blinder wouldn’t change their friendship.

“You can’t tell your brothers I told you,” he said. “If they find you out, you blame it on Finn. Lad can’t keep his mouth shut anyhow.” 

Clara chuckled at that, though she wasn’t sure she’d lie and blame her twin if it came down to it. She didn’t imagine it would come down to it, but even so, it felt malicious, even if it would be saving Isiah’s skin. Clara nodded anyhow. She needed the truth. Needed a bit of certainty.

“I’m not going to tell."

Isiah nodded before offering his tale, telling Clara all about the horses and the spectators, the Lee family and the money. He told her of the small cuts and bruises incurred by the men, himself included. And he told her of the crass words spoken on the way there and the way home. He told her all of it, the words flowing out like a story, like they had needed to be told, needed to be released from his brain. 

Isiah hadn’t seen Tommy the whole time, he’d said. Tommy and Grace had gone off someplace special, and all Isiah knew was that it had been a successful day. That Tommy had been pleased. At least, that's what Arthur had said.

The information didn't satisfy her or soothe her. If anything, what Isiah told her had given her more questions than anything else, but Isiah had seemed lighter for sharing it, as if a weight had been lifted.

It was still too early for the pictures. The first showing wasn't until 11 am and anyway, the kids were still hungry even after having breakfast at home. Starving, and they had money to burn, money to spend on who lever they wanted. They could've gone to Hinkley's, but they bypassed their local bakery, heading through the streets to find something else that was open, eventually settling on a small shop none of them had ever been to, the four of them enticed by the big cakes in the window.

Clara felt a tingle in her limbs as they settled by the Cut with their bag of treats, the pastries taking on some semblance of a second breakfast as the morning sun warmed their bones.

They worked on the contents of the bag with a certain fervor before Isiah and Robbie left the twins with the leftovers to skip rocks. Clara remained with her brother, the two of them settled with their feet dangled over the edge of the canal while Isiah tried to teach her nephew what to do, the two of them practicing swinging their arm.

"What happened at the races yesterday?" Clara asked, trying again to get some type of information.

"I'm not supposed to say," Finn said around a bite of pastry. "Why are you so worried about it?"

"I'm not worried."

"You're always worried," Finn answered, the words touching on something deep within her. Didn't everyone think about things all the time? She asked the question to herself, watching her brother as he munched on his food, his gaze on Robbie and Isiah. Clara realized then that Finn didn't seem worried. He didn't ever seemed very bothered about anything, which didn't seem a bit fair to Clara, that her brother's mind could be so quiet. So calm. So kind to him in that way, when hers was certainly not.

In fact, it seemed that Finn had already moved on from her questions altogether, a stretch of quiet passing between them that left Clara feeling uncomfortably alone with her thoughts.

"Tommy let me drive the car yesterday," she offered into the quiet, the information coming out only to get Finn talking again. "Maybe he'll take you out today."

Finn shook his head. "Tommy's busy with the pretty little barmaid.'"

Clara recognized the turn of phrase as belonging to one of her brothers—Arthur or John—but she stowed the information anyhow, ignoring the sting she felt at knowing Tommy had skipped out on their plans to be with Grace.

By the time Clara looked up again, Finn was standing beside Robbie, trying to give his own two cents about rock skipping, showing off his technique, which was all well and good until Robbie tried to replicate it, whipping a rock across the canal. The sound of shattering glass came quickly, echoing across the water.

Clara sat in stunned silence, looking around the small area they were in, her eyes catching on a bit of movement down the lane, her ears catching on a small sound. The sound grew louder and louder, the sound of footsteps on pavement building until she saw the face of a man she recognized. 

Moss.

The copper who had towed her across town, brought her to Inspector Campbell. The call to bring up the breakfast of sweets she'd just enjoyed came over Clara all at once as the man started moving towards them. She barely heard Isiah yell for them to run, was barely aware of Isiah taking Robbie’s hand and peeling away from the canal as she sat frozen there. Clara just sat there as if she was rooted to the ground, too scared to move, too scared to do anything.

But then Finn was in front of her, holding out a hand. 

“C’mon, Clara, run,” Finn said, urging her up. “Leave it,” he said when she reached for the half-empty bag of sweets and he yanked her to her feet, the two of them sprinting off. Clara was barely aware of where they were going, the two of them weaving in and out of streets Clara hadn't ventured down in months. They’d lost Isiah and Robbie, and Clara didn’t dare slow or turn her head to see if the copper still followed them, not until they pulled to a stop outside of the theater.

Clara was grateful it was Finn who had their money as he bought their tickets and tugged her along into the building. She was still breathing hard, her heart beating in her chest as they slumped into the velvet seats. 

“What if something happened? What if—?” The words caught in Clara’s throat as the doors at the back of the theater opened and closed. She willed her heart to settle as two young women took up seats a few rows behind them. They paid her and Finn no mind.

The last time Clara had been in this theater, it was Tommy who had burst through the doors, demanding Ada tell him who had gotten her pregnant. Clara had been scared of her brother then. She thought he might kill one or both of them, but an angry Tommy was more preferable to her now than the thought of that copper coming through the door. 

Clara pushed herself down into the seat, her arms wrapped tightly around her queasy stomach. Oh, how she regretted cookies and pastries for breakfast. Oh, how she regretted leaving Watery Lane in the first place...

Clara kept her eyes squeezed shut as the doors continued to open and close behind them. Despite Finn's teasing, despite his insistence that there was nothing to worry about, Clara flinched each time, holding her breath until steps faded away as the patrons found their seats. 

Clara finally heard a sound she recognized minutes later, a deep bit of laughter that seeped into her bones, and she loosed a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She turned to look over the back of her seat as Isiah and Robbie walked down the aisle. The little boy was laughing, a huge bag of popcorn in his arms as he zoomed away from Isiah, taking up the empty aisle seat beside Finn. 

Clara wanted to hug her nephew. To check him over and make sure he was alright, but it seemed like he had already forgotten their run-in with the copper. 

“Guess who we saw!” Robbie said, leaning across Finn to better see Clara, his answer coming before Clara could even think to respond. “Miss Lizzie! She was walking down the street.”

“Nice lady, Miss Stark,” Isiah added as he climbed over the seat from the row behind them. He slid into the seat beside Clara, settling a large bag of popcorn in her lap. 

“She told us to hide in an alleyway and then she told that copper we went the other way,” Robbie said, leaning across Finn to reach his hand into the popcorn.

Isiah hummed and took a handful of popcorn into his mouth as well before looking at Robbie. “Remember what I said though, mate?”

Robbie nodded. “Can’t tell no one about what happened," he said. 

“Good lad,” Isiah said as he sat back in the seat, leaning his arm over the back of Clara's chair. "I just hope Miss Stark keeps it to herself, too.”

“She will. I'm certain of it,” Clara let her head lean back into Isiah's arm as she grabbed a handful of popcorn for herself. Isiah glanced at her as if she might say more, but Clara didn’t offer any further explanation. Clara wasn’t sure how she’d be able to explain that she just knew, without a smidgen of uncertainty, that Lizzie Stark was a good person. An honest person.

And then the movie started, words coming across the screen that had a smile growing on her face: A Dog's Life, Written and Produced by: Charles Chaplin.

Her mind was still swimming with thoughts as the picture began. Thoughts of the broken window and the copper and her brothers and Grace and Lizzie Stark and the fact that they'd forgotten to find Jeremiah and invite him to dinner, but as the image of a small puppy emerged on the screen, Clara found a smile tugging at her lips, and she willed herself to give into it. She willed herself to let the uncertainties fall away, some part of her realizing that the world...the worries...they could wait until the movie was through.

Chapter 34

Little Lady Blinder Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

[comphy-and-cozy]

Sweetest Taboo - Michael Gray x Isiah Jesus x OFC/Reader

Summary: An unofficial part 3 to ‘Unravel Me’. The boys celebrate a tropical birthday. Modern!AU.

Word Count: 6.9K words

Warnings: Smut/NSFW. 18+. Cuckholding/hot wifing and threesome (sort of).

Series Masterlist

While Michael Gray isn’t exactly the poster child for cheery celebrations, he does believe that there are a few occasions worthy of celebrating, and a birthday is one of them. It’s one time per year that you can spoil yourself, he thinks, and everyone should indulge now and then.

It’s September, his girl’s birthday month, and he’s made it clear that he wants to spoil her rotten for her birthday this year, pulling out all of the stops on a tropical island getaway. The house he’s rented for two weeks is divine; sleek, modern, and a perfect slice of heaven fit for a Peaky Blinder lavishing his woman in luxury.

From the minute she steps off the plane, the red carpet is rolled out for her, ensuring that she feels like a starlet or some sort of high-end royalty each moment. When she enters the vacation home, there’s a large bouquet of flowers waiting on the counter, along with an expensive bottle of champagne. On the neatly made up bed in the bedroom lies a box of fine Swiss chocolates, and a stack of heartfelt cards from some of her closest friends.

The first few days are easy, catching up on sleep and basking in the sun. Michael’s itinerary is packed full of high living extravagance, complete with several five-star meals, a couple’s massage, private wine tasting, and, of course, plenty of beachside love-making.

On the third day, after a parasailing excursion and a delicious meal, Michael brings her back to the house. She looks beautiful, he thinks, with her floral skirt and glow of her skin, warmed by days in the sun.

“I’ve brought you another surprise,” he says, smiling sleekly at her. Her eyes pique in interest, unable to hide her excitement. As unselfish as she is, it’s nice to be treated like a princess sometimes.

He is pleased with her reaction, smug and confident, as he takes a few paces toward the door, opening it with anticipation.

A gasp is all that leaves her mouth, frozen temporarily at the sight of Isiah standing with one hand in his pocket against the doorframe, looking terribly handsome as he gazes at her, smiling. The large bouquet of flowers he has in his hand covers up the white collared button-up shirt he sports, but not enough to hide the flex of his forearms that are on display with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Isiah all but mumbles, watching her as she takes in the sight of him, allowing a moment for the shock to settle in.

She feels the butterflies in her chest fluttering, excited to have him there, and anticipating all that his presence might bring. Sliding off of her spot on the couch, she steps forward, trying to hide the desire she feels to run to him, instead opting to walk briskly to him to wrap her arms around him. He’s warm against her, his arms folding around her body tightly with a squeeze that transfers more than affection, but love, ardor, and desire.

Whispering a breathless ‘thank you’, she presses a kiss against his cheek as she accepts the flowers from him. She smells them, smiling because he remembered that peonies are her favorite.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers, looking up at him, and he can’t help but smile at her admission.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Did Michael show you this beautiful place he rented for us!?” she asks excitedly, setting the flowers on the counter before jumping back and grabbing his hand. “Let me show you around.”

Isiah follows, partly because he’s being dragged by her, but also because he can’t help but follow her like a magnet, as she gives him the grand tour. Michael is a few steps behind, amused at her excitement.

She leads him into the suite of the bedroom, the sound of the waves crashing outside creating a dreamy ambiance over the fresh, white linens on the bed. Isiah glances at it, wondering how many times Michael’s had her in this very spot, how many moans the walls of this room have soaked in, how her frame looks draped in nothing but the sheets. He’s subtle, but not subtle enough; Michael catches the flick of his eye and smirks to himself, just imagining the thoughts running through his mate’s head.

The breeze is refreshing and warm as she slides the collapsible windows to the side, leading them outside.

“This is my favorite part,” she explains, gesturing at the tall, sleek outdoor shower, a few feet away from the infinity pool that overlooks the vast private beach of the island. It’s open, protected only slightly from the beach view with one sheet of frosted glass, the other two corners lined with a deep cherry wood, a long bench on one end. Isiah observes, thinking he’d be fine to live here with her and this view for the rest of his life.

Michael is quiet, letting the ideas brewing in his head swirl to life.

Her tour at an end, she looks at Isiah, pausing to gauge his response. He grins, “Fit for a king and queen.”

“And you, Zay,” she is quick to add, looping her arm through his as she leads him back into the house.

A few hours pass, and soon enough, Isiah is settled into the guest suite of the vacation home. He’s not staying for long, but he’s pretty confident he won’t be spending much time alone on this trip. Not with the way she keeps glancing at him, fervor deep within the pools of her eyes, despite the fact that it’s Michael sitting beside her, arm around her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder.

They are enjoying a bottle of wine, some expensive bottle of Pinot Noir, with windows all propped open and welcoming the warm, salty breeze of the evening. It’s peaceful and pleasant, and the faint sound of the boys’ deep laughter can be heard even outside in the distance.

Another hour is spent catching up, cracking jokes, and telling stories. Another bottle of wine is split between the trio, the boozy haze combining dreamily with the warm air. She sighs contentedly, closing her eyes as she lays her head back against Michael’s muscular arm. Isiah’s eyes drag over the tantalizing bare skin of her leg, fingers yearning to drag along the outside of her thigh.

A comfortable silence falls in the room, only the sound of the palm trees rustling outside. Isiah wonders if the other two are thinking what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t want to voice his thoughts and spoil the mood or overstep his bounds. He shares a glance with Michael, and it’s like he’s read his mind, for all Michael responds with is a curt, subtle nod.

“Are you glad that Isiah’s here?” he asks her.

“Oh, yes, Michael,” she nods enthusiastically. “The best birthday gift ever.”

Isiah’s heart explodes with jubilation, elated that spending time with him is even a low priority on her birthday wishlist. He offers her a smile, which she returns, and she feels her cheeks go hot under his gaze.

“You know,” Michael continues. “I’m not sure I ever really showed Isiah the ropes.”

She glances up at him, eyes wide and curious. “The ropes?”

Michael nods, humming in the affirmative. “You know, show him what you like, how you like it.” He clicks his teeth. “How you like to be fucked.”

Oh. A shiver runs through her, his words enticing her far more than they should. While they had certainly had plenty of interactions the other way around, they had never played with the dynamic of Isiah watching Michael, and she loves the idea.

“You’d like that?” Michael’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and she looks at him, nodding. “Yeah?”

She clears her throat, eyes flicking to Isiah, to ensure that he likes the idea, too; she’d never want him or Michael to be uncomfortable. Fortunately, based on the way that Isiah’s staring at her with a dark hunger in his eyes, it seems he is definitely on board.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. He’s all in. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch you get fucked, could he?”

Read the rest on AO3!

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Until You Return From the Front Line *Isiah JesusxOC

A request from @everythingandyou

Summary: Tommy’s eldest daughter, Avis, falls for Isiah Jesus but before they can have a whirlwind romance they’d always dreamed of, Europe crumbles. 

//Judging that the ages for the children in the series are wonky enough, I’m just going to have Isiah, Finn, and Avis in their late 20s, Charlie 18, and Ruby as 14.

           Dear Dad,

It’s been about a month since I’ve arrived in France. There are a lot of lovely girls my age. There’s a girl from Birmingham as well! I hope you’ve heard from Uncle Finn and Michael as I haven’t received any letters from them as of yet. I heard from Charlie about a week ago and it sounds like he’s becoming acclimated. It’s been a bit difficult as I’ve never seen such wounds before. There was a young man, couldn’t be more than twenty, who lost a leg. I’m hopeful the war won’t last very long. But I worry for Isiah and the others. Give Ruby and Lizzie my love and let them know I’m always thinking of them.

Love,

Avis

           It was an absolute nightmare. Tommy thought he could raise his children and never have them know the horrors that he and his brothers knew. The War was in the past, Charlie would never know the fear of being buried alive by a tunnel or the sound of bombers in the air and rifles through the night.

           But no longer. Britain had once again declared war and no able-bodied young man was safe from the draft. Charlie, a proud boy enlisted much to Tommy’s anger.

           The two fought over the decision for a few days. Charlies argued that it was the same thing his father had done. Tommy argued that, yes, it was the same thing he’d done and that’s why he was trying to protect his only son.

           Despite the power he had both in Parliament and in the community, Tommy couldn’t pull enough strings to get his son discharged before he was shipped off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Before Charlie left, they had a party for him at the Garrison. Tommy’s three children were all there. Avis was the oldest and the last thing Tommy had left of Greta Jurosi, the first love of his life. Next was Charlie, and finally, little Ruby who was actually taller than her older sister and nearly as tall as her brother.

           Drinks were flowing and spirits were generally up even though Charlie was leaving for the front lines. Everyone tried to remain optimistic. Maybe things would be settled and the young man would never even see a lick of combat. That’s all they could hope for.

           Across the room, Tommy spied Avis. She was a beautiful young woman with dark hair and her mother’s green eyes. Ever since she was little, she wanted to be a nurse. Growing up in Small Heath and around the rise of the Peaky Blinders she’d seen more than her share of injuries. So, with Tommy’s support, she completed nursing school and worked with ill children. Despite her rough upbringing, she was a gentle figure in the family.

           And now she was dancing very close to Isiah. The sight wasn’t too strange as the two had grown up together. She, Finn, and Jeremiah’s son were inseparable on the streets of Small Heath.

           Little did Tommy know; Isiah was Avis’s first kiss. Her first love. When they turned eighteen, he gifted her a promise ring which she never removed.

~~~~~~~~

           As the music slowed down, Isiah pulled Avis closer. “I need to tell you something.” He whispered to her.

           “You’re enlisting.”

           He frowned. “How did you find out?”

           Avis pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Finn told me you two went.” She answered quietly. “I didn’t want to believe him until you told me yourself.”

           “I’m sorry but I can’t stay here while Charlie’s over there.”

           Avis nodded and the two were quiet for a moment as they considered the possibility of being separated. Neither were sure the longest time they’d gone without seeing each other. It was like they were magnets, just due to be drawn back to each other at the end of the day.

           “I’m going too.” She finally spoke again.

           “What?” Isiah stopped swaying with her and lifted her chin so she was looking at him.

           “They told us in the hospital that they needed nurses.” She explained, her green eyes locked on his. “And I signed up. If you’re all going then I am too.”

           He shook his head but he knew there was a very slim chance she would ever change her mind. She had strong convictions and that was one reason why he loved her so. “I’m guessing there’s nothing I can say to make you stay here?”

           She smiled and shook his head. “No.”

           “Stubborn girl.” He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy pulled his daughter aside the next morning. “There something you want to tell me?” He asked.

           Avis attempted to feign innocence. Mostly because she wasn’t sure what her father was trying to call her out on. Her relationship with Isiah? Her decision to enlist as a nurse? That one time when she was ten and broke a plate but blamed it on Charlie? “Tell you what?”

           “I saw the way you were with Isiah last night.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How long has that been going on?”

           Avis averted her eyes and rifled around her purse for a cigarette. “A while.” She admitted. “Why?”

           “Av, I don’t want to control you. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

           “But you’re worried that people are going to look down on you because your daughter’s dating someone who’s black?” She snapped and glared at him.

           “What?” Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m talking about him providing for you. He’s a Blinder, Avis.”

           “And?” She threw up her hands in disbelief. “He’s intelligent, dad, you know that. If you gave him and Finn more responsibilities on the tracks then maybe they could make more money.” She accused.

           “That’s what you want, aye? Your husband working on the tracks? You could date someone of better social standing, Avis.” Tommy wanted nothing but to have his children succeed. To never allow them to see the slums of life, the worst of the worst of living. They would never go hungry, they would never be cold in the winter, they would never be afraid of being evicted.

           “I want someone who I love more than anything else.” Avis shot back at him. “I’m not marrying someone I don’t love.”

           Tommy ran a hand over his face, deflating slightly. “I understand you love him but…”

           “But nothing, dad. There’s nothing you could say to change my mind. I love him, isn’t that enough?”

           He looked at his oldest daughter, the apple of his eye. Perhaps he was just making up excuses. Maybe he was afraid of her getting old and starting a family of her own. It probably wouldn’t have mattered who she loved. He would protest because time had moved too fast. She’d grown too fast.

           “Dad, I enlisted.” Avis decided the time was as good as any to tell him the other news. “I’m going to serve as a nurse.”

           “No, absolutely not.” Falling in love was one thing. Going into a war zone was another thing. “I will not have you and Charlie over there. Absolutely fucking not.”

           “What am I meant to do here? I’m a nurse and I want to do what I can!” She cried.

           “What if I lose you both, aye?” Tommy stood up and began pacing anxiously. “What if you two both come back in boxes? I’m gonna have to tell your sister that you’re gone?”

           “Nothing’s going to happen to us, dad, we’ll be okay.”

           “You don’t fucking know that!” He shouted. “Neither of you have no idea what the fucks happens in those trenches. You both want to be proud of your fucking country when this country left me and your uncles for dead, buried alive!”

           Tears began to brim in Avis’s eyes. “I won’t be worthless. I’m going to make a difference.” She whispered tearfully. “I won’t sit around while men die. I’m going.” She asserted and left before Tommy could yell at her more.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Avis returned home from France a few weeks before Isiah and Charlie. Tommy refused to let go of her for quite some time. She was home, now he just needed to get his son back and the world would be right again.

           It was like there had been a never-ending alarm over the world for years. But finally, at that moment, everything went completely silent. The echoes faded and now everyone was left to pick themselves up, gather their dead, return home, and find out what normal had been.

           Isiah had been shot twice, once in the leg and once in the shoulder. Finn had nearly lost his arm to a grenade. Charlie had grown very ill from the gases. Michael had a bullet lodged in his back that would have to be taken out by surgeons in London. They’d all been through hell and back but at least they were returned home alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Isiah grinned and dropped his bag when he saw his Avis pushing through the crowds on the train platform.

           “Baby!” She squealed and leapt into his arms.

           “Oh, I missed you so much.” Isiah spun her around, hugging her tightly and then kissing her deeply. He never wanted to let go of her again.

          After a moment, Avis pulled back for a breath. She took in his handsome features, tracing her thumb over his cheek. “I missed you more.” She sighed with relief and kissed him again. Feeling him hold her again was reassuring. Not even a world war could tear them apart. They’d always return to each other.

Masterlist 

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Isaiah

Preference Masterlist

Word count: 1053

Warnings: reader having hard time, mentions of religion

Author's note: Thank you so much for all your support! I'm so excited to get through the rest of these preferences. As always, feedback is very much appreciated and I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Any more charcater ideas can be submitted through my asks or messages!! Hope you're all doing alright (-:

(Gif by @laheylo) (I love daryl so much!)

Jeremiah used to slip a rosary in Isaiah's pocket before he went to work. Being a Blinder wasn't exactly the most Christian of professions, with moral degradation as a common occupational hazard. Isaiah always loved the reminder that there was something good in him. He was still the son of the preacher, a man who could not be prodder of his (not so) little boy. Eventually, Isaiah didn't need his dad's sneaky reverse-pickpocket to keep the rosary in his coat. At times of true violence and horror, holding onto that rosary has been his saving grace. He was twiddling with the beads in one hand as his other focused on shuffling the door open- it always got jammed, no matter how many times he shoved his shoulder into it. The beads were to help his thoughts from running away with him as he stomped down Small Heath, and now that he was home, he hoped he could finally forget about his day with you.

Except, that was the problem, wasn't it?

When Isaiah finished cursing the door and its uselessness, he had gone to hung up his coat and kick off his shoes with the expectation of hearing you giggle at his muttering, or calling to say hello. Nothing. Not a sound. Suddenly worried, Isaiah looked down to see that your shoes were still at the door. You hadn't gone out. Or, if you had, it had been in your socks. He called out your name, looking around to see if he you had escaped his notice under some heap of blankets, or lying down on the floor like he'd seen you do once or twice. Well, 'seen' was a bit generous to him. He had, in fact, tripped over your reclined body too many times whilst looking for you. As you laughed at him, he always regained his dignity by asking what the fuck you were doing, lying on the floor like that? He'd always help you to your bed, or the sofa, at least. Less chance of him falling over you that way. But, as he carefully stepped over the deserted floor, you were nowhere to be seen. Still treading carefully, he nudged open your bedroom door. 

The slightest bit of light that creeped into the room, just enough for him to see in clearly. The curtains were still drawn shut, not any light coming in but that which escaped over his silhouette blocking the door frame. You were in bed. He would've assumed you'd had a long day and got into bed early, and his late shift could only help that idea. Except, you were in the exact same position when he had left you to go to work this morning. Isaiah could remember it, clear as anything, when he kissed your forehead and gave a tender smile at your half-coherent sleep-glazed goodbye. You hadn't moved all day. Not even for a glass of water- your lips were cracked like a shattered glass. He could feel his blood run cold underneath his skin, the rosary in his fist digging in as he clenched it tighter.

"Baby, are you alright?"

 He wanted to jump into bed besides you and bring you into his arms. But, as cautious as he was of tripping over you on the floor, he only crouched by your side of the bed. With your eyes shut tight, you grasped around the blanket to try and find him. He cut your search short with a gentle hand ghosting over yours. And you held onto him so tightly, he swore you were gonna break his hand. 

You were suffering. You had been for a while, he realised. All those times you struggled getting out of bed recently; the sadness that creeped into your face when you thought he wasn't looking; the way you had opened up your mouth like you were gonna say something so many times, then shook your head as if you'd changed your mind. He hadn't seen it. He hadn't recognised the signs until here you were: burnt out and left to suffer alone all day. If he had known...if only you'd have called him...the hypotheticals clouded his mind, the rosary straining against his ever tightening grip.

"What can I do for you?" 

Anything. He's certain that's exactly what he'd do for you, if you'd ask. But still he waited, holding onto your hand as you opened up your eyes. Bloodstained and framed with crusts of sleep, all you could do was look at his earnest expression with the guilt of making him so grim.

"Water please." You didn't want to look after yourself, in all honesty. You wanted to stay under the covers and continue resting for as long as possible. But you knew you had to. And Isaiah was here, able and willing to go fetch you a glass in order to satiate the dryness in your throat. 

"Of course," he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gently rubbing away the sleep in your eyes. "Anything else? I can make you a sandwich, or something more?"

He phrased the question hopefully, but your appetite was pessimistic. You shook your head, mustering up a small smile.

"Just water, please."

Isaiah went as quickly as he could, returning back to you with the biggest cup he could find, filled near the brim of cold water. You took it, gratefully, as he helped prop up your pillow so you could comfortably sit up ever so slightly. He sat near the edge as he watched you take a big gulp, the water tasting like the best thing you'd ever drank. Eagerly, you managed the whole thing, raising the empty glass as a victory to Isaiah. He resisted the urge to clap, knowing being patronising wouldn't be requited with amusement as it normally would.

"How are you doing?" He whispered the question into your forehead, sealing it with a chaste kiss.

"Not great," you croaked out. He gave a sombre nod of his head, removing his hand from his rosary to rest over yours. You gave him a weak smile, moving forward to rest your forehead against his. His steady breath and yours was all the sound in the room. You were still breathing, still going, no matter how hard things were getting for you two.

[peakascum]

Reunion pt. 2

This is set before ‘Reunion’. More like a prequel. If you guys like it I would love to make a short series on this character! If you want to be tagged please send me a message and I will happily do so.

This is merely an introduction.

Also, this was inspired by THIS SONG.

The moon’s ominous glare settled upon Small Heath illuminating the train’s path. Out stepped Y/N Shelby’s trembling legs just as the clock struck three, prompting every Shelby’s eyes open and a heaviness settle upon their chest. A girl born at the witching hour to young parents. Her mother’s pride, her father’s joy. She always loomed through the shadows in the coming years shifting into whichever entity her family wanted. The first child, the caregiver, the silent spawn, the forgotten daughter, all in hopes to keep her away as an important souvenir. Her father deemed it difficult to even glance at her after the death of her mother, the girl unfortunately inheriting a striking resemblance to her. A feather-light touch, untamed hair, and the unforgiving smirk that etched her face after a witty remark escaped her lips.

But Gypsy blood ran thick and moved swiftly past the train station, through the canal, by butcher’ peak, and into the doorsteps of her loved ones. Quiet hums escaped her lips as the air grew thicker, a soft lullaby that kept the drunk men at bay and wandering eyes to themselves.

Y/N Shelby had been left with her stepmother after witnessing her father’s death right on their doorstep. She shuddered as the dreadful scene played in her mind. It had been raining, a drizzling rain, not uncommon for England. The blood, so much of it, poured through the bullet holes and onto the steps they climbed every day after an evening in the fields. The screams and noise that her stepmother made were nothing compared to the unbearable silence she emitted as the scene unfolded before her. Dead. Dead as the rabbits he brought home after hunting. Cold as the winter chill that forever seeped through her veins.

The bell at the inn rang as soon as she opened the door. The room was distasteful and reeked of bourbon, but it would do, for now. The woman at the front desk eyed the Y/N’s contemplative stare in an intent to analyze the new, yet familiar, face.

“Room f’one?” She asked twitching her brow up.

“I don’t see anybody else here.”

“Right.”

The woman sported a thick coat with an intricate pattern that reminded Y/N of the ones her mother used to sow. Eyes were painted heavily with dark colors that faded in the wrinkled creases of her skin. Only certain women wore that on this part of town. But Y/N was certain she wasn't that type of woman and merely wore it to catch the attention of men. Yet, at this hour she was sure the only souls that would dare trespass the inn were wailing ghosts and, well, herself.

“Are there any job openings in town that you know of?” She muttered timidly. The woman tore her eyes away from the check-in book and scoffed. “Ye’ should be careful asking for jobs ‘round here,” she paused and surveyed her body, “specially a young girl like y’self.”

Y/N hummed in acknowledgement.

“What about the Shelby Company?” Y/N asked slyly.

“Wha’ about them?” The woman asked squinting her eyes at the girl.

“Any free spots?”

“Aren't y’bold!” The woman wheezed out a laugh. Y/N trained her eyes on her, deciding wether or not the laughter offended her. 

“Is that amusing?”

“Tha’ kind of talk only calls f’trouble.” The woman finished with a cough. A heavy cough that she swears only someone from Small Heath makes. Y/N’s face remained stoic as the woman jotted down an address onto a crumpled piece fo paper. 

“Ask for a Mr. Zhang. Tell ‘im tha’ Tillie sent ya’”. Her name was Tillie. “‘reckon it’s the fastest way t’get a hold of a Peaky lad.”

“I’m no whore, Tillie,” Y/N smiled wickedly, “but you already know that, don’t you?”

Tillie cocked her head to the side and savored the girl’s words. A face so hauntingly familiar that made the older woman clutch her hanging rosary in response. Y/N hummed in silent understanding and thanked her for the room and the recommendation.

A whore she was not, but as all women she could play any role, morph into any character she desired. The ends would justify the means.

She accommodated herself in the sturdy bed by the window a she hummed a quiet Romanian lullaby under her breath. Her eyes trained on the flickering lamp post across the street. Moths waltzed around it as if dancing to her tune. Fingers curled around her hairbrush and weaved through her hair in a harmonious dance, prepping herself for the days ahead. Forgotten daughter no more, she would earn her way back to her family. 

A dynasty so rightfully hers.

The witching hour had stirred the Shelbys from their slumber and would be greeted with a coldness deemed as uncommon for the season. The sensation elicited groans and shivers from the family. Prompted oil lamps to light up their bedrooms and halls in attempt to make sense of their sudden awakening. It even prompted a certain Blinder, not of Gypsy blood, to stir awake in sudden wariness and light a candle to his bedside. 

Candles and lamps that would flicker a dance every time she hummed the same lines. 

Tags: @peakywitch​

[smcc212]

Normal

Pairings- Arthur Shelby x male reader(platonic), Polly Grey x male reader(platonic), a little bit of Isiah Jesus x male reader

Word count- 1,969

Warnings- Period-typical homophobia, internalised homophobia, underage drinking(is that a warning??), swearing. I think that’s it, let me know if I’m wrong.

A/N- Soooo Instead of writing things people have requested I’ve written this, I might write a part two(if people want one). Anyway! Enjoy some accepting Arthur Shelby, lads!!

I started working for the peaky blinders a few months ago, they never made me do anything dangerous, they always said I was too young. I went to them after getting kicked out by my parents. My father had caught you kissing another boy, dragged me home and told my mother. They disowned me immediately. With tears streaming down my face, I went to the peaky blinders in hopes of finding a job. Taking pity on me, they let me work in the betting shop. I’d be forever grateful.

I never told them that I was homeless. They didn’t need to worry about me, they’d helped me enough, in my books. They knew my parents disowned me, but that was all they knew. They thought I was staying with an uncle. Until...

After a long day of work, the Shelby’s invited me to the Garrison with them. They allowed me to have a few glasses of whiskey. However, while no one was looking I stole a bottle of whiskey, placing it in a hiding spot. After I’d finished the whiskey they said I was allowed, i was stuck drinking water, but I really didn’t mind.

I left about fifteen minutes before shutting time. I went into the alleyway next to the Garrison and started to drink the stolen whiskey. At some point tears started cascading down my cheeks. I couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued my mind. How much easier life would be if I liked women. How I wished my family never found out that I don’t. Thoughts of ending it all, however, were the loudest.

I was so caught up in my head and thoughts that I never noticed Arthur Shelby sitting next to me. I was close with Arthur. He’d taught me how to fight, he’d talk and joke around with me, and he was always there if I needed to talk to him. I knew that I couldn’t go to him with the thoughts I were having though, or...at least sober me did.

“Why’re you crying, lad?” He asked, voice surprising soft. He was also surprisingly sober. “Eh? Come on, you talk to me.”

“I’m not normal, Art,” I mumbled, loud sobs escaping me, shaking my body. Arthur rubbed my back soothingly.

“Whatcha mean by ‘at, eh?”

“I don’t like women,” I cried, too drunk, too overwhelmed to remember to lie. “I like men.”

“And? I asked how you’re not normal.” I looked up at Arthur, shocked by the fact he didn’t start beating me.

“That’s what wrong...” I trailed off, staring at him in disbelief.

“Why’s that’s wrong? You like a bit of cock? So what? Doesn’t matter to me, does it?” I couldn’t respond, too taken aback by his words. A couple minutes passed before Arthur realised I wasn’t going to say anything. “Where’d you stay? I’ll walk you home.”

“No, it’s fine,” I quickly said.

“You’re far too drunk to walk home, let me help you, kid.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Where’d you stay?”

“Leave it.”

“No. Where?”

“Wherever I fall asleep,” I murmured sadly.

“What does that mean?” Arthur’s voice was thick with concern.

“I don’t have a home...” My tears, that had started to slow down, sped up again.

“Right then.” Arthur stood up, dragging me up with him.

“What’re you doing, Art?”

“If you don’t have a home, then you’ll stay with me until you do,” He said like it wasn’t it a big deal. How could he not see how big this was?!

“Th-thank you, Arthur.”

“It’s fine.”

The next day, I woke up to the smell of coffee.

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine,” Arthur said from his seat at the table. I smiled at him before I remembered what I’d told him last night. I jolted up, staring at him with wide, panicked eyes.

“Arthur, please, please don’t tell Tommy,” I begged. “I need that job! Shit, please don’t go to police! Please-“

“(Y/N), calm down, lad. ‘m not gonna tell anyone, alright?” He cut me off, speaking slowly to make sure I understood.

“Thank you, Arthur, thank you. I-I’ll get out of your hair, thank you, Arthur.” I stood up and started to make my towards the door, but Arthur’s hand wrapping around my wrist stopped me. I froze. This was it, he was gonna beat.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He said. I froze, tears burning my eyes as I tried to accept my fate. “For fuck sake, (Y/N), I’m not gonna hurt you. I don’t care if you like men, doesn’t effect me, does it? But for the love god, you’re not leaving, you don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Wh-what?” I stammered, turning around to face him. “You’re not... disgusted?”

“Disgusted?” Arthur let out a chuckle. “No, I’m not disgusted that you like something I don’t.”

“O-okay.”

“You’re gonna stay with me, yeah? Just until your old enough to get your own place, okay?”

“Okay,” I breathed out, still not fully believing that he was so excepting.

“Great! Now drink your coffee, have a shower and then we’ll go to the shop.” I nodded. “I’ll get you some new clothes today while you’re working,” He said as I sat down.

“It’s fine, Arthur, you’re already doing so much for me. Thank you.”

“First of all, stop thanking me. And secondly, you need some new clothes, kid. Don’t fight me on this,” He concluded, voice firm.

“Okay, Arthur. Tha-“ I cut myself off.

“Good.”

Work was the same as it always was, except, after Arthur talked to Polly, she was looking over at me the full day. Something in eyes...pity? Either that or something akin to it.

“Tommy! I’m gonna take my break!” I shouted.

“Aright, lad!” He shouted back, I stood up, put my cap on and started to head for the door. I was gonna go to the boxing and see Isiah. I fancied the Jesus boy too much, even though I knew he liked women. He was just amazing. Polly however had other plans and she stopped me, asking if we could talk.

“(Y/N), Arthur told me,” She said once we were alone. My eyes widened, I subconsciously took a step back. “Calm down. He told because he knows I don’t care, everything to do with my family’s illegal.” She laughed at the end of her sentence. I smiled softly at her.

“Okay, why are you talking to me then?” I asked, confused by the turn of events.

“I want you to know that if you need anything, I’m here. Also, if anyone says or does anything to you because of it, tell me, or Arthur, and we’ll sort it out, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Polly.” I smiled widely at her.

“You’re welcome. Now fuck off,” She joked.

“Yes, mam.” I jokingly saluted before heading off, her laugh following me down the hall.

I stood ring-side watching Isiah box Finn, well... really I was looking at Isiah’s body, his arms-

“(Y/N), you alright there, mate?” Isiah laughed. I’d been so caught up in my own head I hadn’t realised the ‘fight’ had ended.

“Y-yeah, sorry, bit out of it today,” I laughed, hoping he hadn’t realised I was staring at him.

“It’s fine, mate, come on. I need to get changed.” I followed behind him. Once Isiah was dressed, we left, and once we were alone he turned to me. “Like what you see?” His voice sounded smug.

“Wh-what?”

“I saw you staring at me, when I was in the ring, did you like what you saw?” He chuckled, cockiness oozing off him.

“I-I-I.” I didn’t know what to do or say. The honest was yes, obviously I did, he’s gorgeous. The safe answer, however, was no. Fuck, what do I say?! Fuck, I need to say something! Anything!

“I’ve seen you fighting before,” Isiah began, moving ever so slightly closer to me. “I liked what I saw.” My thoughts were racing. Did he actually like what he saw, or was he trying to figure out if I liked men? Did he like men? Did he like me? Or was he going to beat me for liking men? Fuck! Why can’t I just like women! “So, did you like what you saw?” Fuck it, you only live once, right?

“Yes,” I breathed out. He smirked at me, moving closer, backing me up against the wall of the empty alleyway. Fuck! Why did I say yes?! This is it. This is how I die. I closed my eyes, trying to be ready for his first punch... but it never came.

“Good.” I felt his breath against my face. “One day, I’ll let you see all of me. Unfortunately, we can’t do that in an alleyway, love,” He sighed. I slowly opened my eyes, his staring into mine. He placed his hand on my cheek, brushing his thumb across it. “One day, I promise you, pretty boy.” He looked around, making sure no one saw before placing his lips on mine. “See you later, pretty boy.”

“Bye,” I murmured quietly as he walked away. I smiled to myself as I walked back to work.

The rest of the day went by pretty easily after that. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Isiah said. He liked me, right? Or did he only like my body? Who cares?! Isiah Jesus, the preachers son, wanted to, at least, fuck me.

“(Y/N)!” I heard Arthur’s booming voice, tearing me from my thoughts. “Come on, we’re going home!” I nodded, grabbed my cap and followed him to his home.

Once we got in, Arthur made me a coffee and poured himself some whiskey.

“So... What did you get up to today?” Arthur asked, smilingly knowingly.

“Nothing much. Same as usual, why?” I stared intensely at the coffee in my hands. It’s one thing to say that you’re okay with a man liking other men, it’s another to actually be okay with it.

“It’s just... You went to the boxing, yeah?” I nodded. “And Isiah was there?” I nodded again, slower this time. “Right. Then the two of you came back to the office with this...this glow about you.”

“Glow?” At this point I was starting to question Arthur’s sanity.

“Yeah. Not literally glowing, obvious, both of you just seemed the have something on your mind.” That smile. That smile on his face, it was genuine. Almost like he was truly happy for me.

“Well, it was a good day,” Was all I said back, because, well what else could I say?

“I’m sure,” He chuckled. “Anyway, while you were off having your ‘good day’, I sorted out your bedroom.”

“My bedroom?” My eyes widened as I realised he was serious about me living here.

“Yeah, s’only small, but it should do for now. Tommy’s coming into some money so we’ll probably be moving,” He shrugged. A smile spread over my face.

“I know you said to stop, but thank you, Arthur!” I beamed, and, without thinking, leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Arthur. He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he hugged me back.

“You’re welcome, (Y/N). You’re clothes are in your wardrobe. I’ll be honest, I got Ada to help me with the sizes. I’ll get some dinner on while you wash up, yeah?” He said, pulling back.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you!” I shouted back as I ran upstairs.

After showering and changing into some clean clothes- not a full suit, just an undershirt and some trousers- I went downstairs to eat dinner with Arthur. It may not have been the best food in the world, but I loved it. It was a full meal and I hadn’t had that in a while. Then both Arthur and I went to bed. Tomorrow was the start of the rest of my life, a good life; a normal life.

Tags:

@the-makingsofgreatness

[siriuslyshewrote]

Finn Shelby x fem!reader imagine, please! Maybe something like they've been together a while (set season 4) and everyone is a bit sceptical of the reader being able to handle the life when they meet her during the Mafia stuff but maybe at one point they're attacked and it turns out she's a damn good shot and barely flinches at shooting their attackers. Fluff, proud Finn, badass reader, usual Peaky Blinders stuff.. Do with the idea what you will.

SCEPTICAL- FINN SHELBY

You had moved from Scotland almost a year ago, exactly, you realised, as you sat next to Finn in the Garrison, smoke exuding from both your lips, you both sharing a cigarette, as bloody Isaiah refused to let you have any of his packet, and you’d forgot your own, and Finn could only find a rather broken one at the bottom of his pocket, which had had to do.

A lot had changed in that time. You and your parents had moved to get away from the Billy Boy’s - men who had several vendetta’s against your family, from some wrongdoings in the past. And you had rather unknowingly moved straight into Blinder territory.

You found yourself only being thankful of this , however. If you had moved somewhere more supposedly safe, you’d never have met the two people you were sat with, Isaiah being your closest mate, and Finn... well, Finn being your boyfriend.

Finn hadn’t been a hard person to fall in love with - really, you knew you would adore him the minute you laid eyes on him, as he had sweetly helped you’d pick up some of your dropped items, as you moved into your house on Watery Lane, just a few down from his own home, you’d later find out. You’d also later find out the sound of his laugh, and how he tugged on his ear when he was nervous, and how he hated his freckles that darkened in the summertime, though to you, they were one of his best features. You’d learn that he liked to be the little spoon sometimes, and his favourite food was simple stew, and he chewed his lip when he was embarrassed. You’d learn about his brothers business, and his involvement, a few months after meeting him, and you’d realised you were too far in love already to even care.

His family cared though. Rather a lot.

And you tried to understand. Finn was the baby of the family - though you were both now almost seventeen - and it probably felt strange for them to see him grow up. They probably were worried he’d make the same mistakes as they , get you knocked up young. And they were suspicious. Of course. You and your family appeared suddenly from Scotland - where one of their rival gangs were - and you appeared almost too unfazed about gang business , the one time you’d met them, and they tried to rather unsubtley scare you with conversation at the table. You hadn’t seen them since - they didn’t trust you, and, as you had said to Finn in one of your only arguments, you didn’t want to live trying to prove yourself to them.

You just had to hope that they’d come round, one day.

“Ya alright, love?” Finn jolted you out of your thoughts, as he squeezed your shoulders gently, as your eyes flickered back towards him.

“Yeah, just thinking.” You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder, as Isaiah said something about getting more drinks from the bar, getting up.

“About what?” Finn was always so interested in everything you said - it was one of the main reasons you had grown to love him.

You nestled further into his side, playing with his fingers.

“Just your family.” You murmured.

You felt, rather than heard, him exhale.

“I know it’s bothering you... I’m going to try and speak to them-“

You smiled a little, looking up at them.

“You don’t need to. They’ll come round eventually, won’t they?”

Doubt flickered across both your faces.

You poked him in the cheek.

“Besides.” You sighed dramatically, a teasing grin on your face. “One Shelby is more than enough to put up with.”

He laughed, and went to tickle your neck in retaliation, knowing that was your weak spot, and you were both so consumed in that, that at first you didn’t hear the doors of the Garrison being kicked in.

Until you heard the guns cock. And your blood froze.

You both turned around, to the door, Finn immediately moving in front of you to shield you, standing up, leaving his suit jacket lying on the chair next you.

You didn’t recognise the men in front of you - two of them, looking to similar they had to be similar.

They walked towards you both, everyone in the pub freezing. Isaiah caught your eye, motioning for you to stay still. You knew what he was trying to say. Don’t do anything till they start something. Not if they’ve got guns.

“Finn Shelby. Care to tell us where your fuckin brothers are?”

Your heart thrummed fast in your chest, as you saw the metal pistols in their hands. They were inexperienced with them, you could tell immediately, from how they handled them, from how their hands shook slightly.

Very quietly, still keeping your eyes on the scene in front of you, your hands went for Finns jacket on the chair, slipping into the pockets. You knew it was here somewhere. Ah. Your fingers wrapped around the cool metal in the material, and it would stay there - until they made any move to hurt Finn.

“How should I know?” His voice was smooth and arrogant. Finn refused to be scared of them. Of course. He knew his status in this city. Why should he be scared? “What do you want with them?”

“They killed our fucking brother. And they’re going to pay.”

Oh. Shit.

Finn shrugged.

“Well. They’re not here. So, do you want to bugger off?”

His back was tense, betraying his smooth voice.

“Well, I don’t know. An eye for an eye. A brother for a brother-“

One of them raised their hand with their guns. You had to act-

A shot was fired, and you exhaled. The gun in your hand remained steady, as you pointed it at the leg of one of the men, as you heard a howl.

Then chaos erupted - Finn, and Isaiah diving for the men, wrestling the guns from their hands whilst they were distracted. You didn’t move - almost frozen, but not in fear, or shock. You just wanted to make absolutely sure everyone was safe from them.

And the minute you realised that yes, the guns were gone, you dropped it immediately, a feeling of nausea overcoming you, as you saw blood on the floor.

——————————————————————————

Polly Gray, and her other three nephews burst through the doors, wielding weapons not three minutes later - someone must have slipped out and informed them.

You and Finn were sat in the corner, him keeping an eye on the two men in the corner ( Isaiah and Harry keeping guard of them ). His hand gripped yours, as you murmured quietly to one another - you giving an explanation, him still being bewildered that you could use a weapon, let alone shoot it correctly.

“Finn!” Polly exhaled in relief, rushing over, as the others went over to presumably sort the situation out with the blokes, her eyes scanning him for any injuries. “Are you-“

“I’m fine Pol. Y/N, here, stopped them.” There was a distinct sound of pride in his voice. You squeezed his hand.

His Aunt’s eyes flickered to you.

“How-“

“Living in Scotland ... it was , surprisingly, less safe than here. My parents taught me how to shoot. Guess it came in handy.” You said rather calmly, as Finn kissed your cheek, a proud grin on his features.

She paused.

“Thankyou.” She smiled, for the first time at you. “Thank you, for saving my nephew.”

Perhaps the Shelby’s would start coming round to you, after all.

Permanent Tag List-

@marvelismylifffe

[kyloswarstars]

This masterlist contains Peaky Blinders fanfiction written by me, myself & I (and will grow in the near future). I’m mostly focusing on Shelby!Reader, my boy Bonnie Gold and the Shelby family in total 🌚

///// SERIES /////

The Shelby Family Teleported Through Time | AU | Shelby!Reader | o

It seemed like all of your siblings barely had any time left for the family. You wanted to fix it all up and get back to what the Shelby siblings once were. At the Lee’s campsite you are gifted an ‚enchanted amber‘, along with the promise that it would help you get closer to your siblings again. Never did you think it would teleport you into another time: being faced by more problems than before.

/////

Come on! | Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader | o

Vendetta had brought your family back to Small Heath for a while. As a Blinder you received orders from Tommy like everyone else did as well. Your current one: Keep eyes on Bonnie Gold. When you first heard those words you wouldn’t have dared to imagine this order would take a complete turn on you.

///// ONESHOT /////

PETRICHOR | Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader | 5.4k | o

Bonnie and you. You and Bonnie. It’s perfect. And then it’s all gone. Grieving is a strange, complicated thing to do and you don’t have a single clue on how to survive without him.

/////

Sunny Side Up | Shelby!Reader | 1.5k | o

Today was the day of your annual – awesome – breakfast bash. The best day of the year. And it wouldn’t be the same without the obligatory Shelby trouble, right?

/////

Chasing Rainbows | Bonnie x Gold Shelby!Reader | 1.3k | o

Spending summer days in the woods with Bonnie means chasing rainbows and skinny dipping in the lake.

/////

To find out more about the sorting, see the information section on my ✨ main masterlist ✨

[interstellarrambles]

morning sugar. ij.

fandom: peaky blinders

pairing: isaiah jesus x genderneutral!reader

pronouns: neutral

a/n: hey, I wrote this a very very long time ago, but going through my drafts it made me smile so why not post it? don't really have an idea of a time line for this, just imagine isaiah has lost his legs in a blinders fight?

considering it was winter, the amount of sunlight entering in wide slats through the blinds was almost criminal. not that you were complaining, for it made isaiah look even more angelic if somehow possible.

words you could use to describe the bliss you were currently enveloped in completely evaded you, but you didn't mind. to be quite true, you didn't want to wake him up from his deep stupor with meaningless words. neither of you were particularly busy for you hadn't had any orders from thomas for a good month, and were only needed around the offices every now and then, and isaiah was still in recovery, with a wheelchair always close by.

by now he had accepted the loss of his limb and simply carried on as well as he could physically, though you weren't stupid enough to believe that he wasn't worse mentally.

he didn't need to wake up yet, and seeing as his dreams appeared to be much sweeter than usual, you kept your breathing much quieter and calmer.

after what appeared to be an age, the body that was encased in your arms slowly shuffled around. a long cross between a groan and a sigh was let out, and you slowly stroked his back, attempting comfort.

"good morning gorgeous," you whispered, pressing slow and patient kisses along his jaw, until he opened his eyes and met your lips with his.

"I missed you," he says, snaking his arms back around your waist after messing with his hair.

"I never went anywhere baby. we were just asleep."

you laughed at his morning slowness, reaching down to entwine your fingers and his together.

"I know. I didn't get to see the real version of your beautiful face for a full 8 hours."

a blush crept up your cheeks and you grasped his hand a little tighter.

"awww," you smiled, "that's so sweet."

"sugar, so are you."

your blush deepened and you hid your face in his neck, softly running your hands through the hairs at the base of his neck.

"I may have lost the leg, but I've still got the charm," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

after your laughter had ceased, a deep silence cut through the room, and you remained, breathing in time. his hands danced upon your skin, and yours lingered on his.

[crystalessenceswrites]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Thought I’d post a WIP piece for the Peaky Blinders series I’m working on to mix it up a bit. Enjoy!

[Masterlist]

From the Dust -- WIP

Not two hours ago Polly had pulled her aside at the punch bowl to warn her that contact had been made. The Shelby brothers had all disappeared from the party not long after. A half hour ago, or so, Tommy’s hand ghosted over her elbow as she passed a dark hallway, beckoning her away from the celebration.

“Tell the boys the rules are off the table. Have them make some noise.”

And so, Miriam had made herself busy, relaying the news to the Peaky Blinders scattered throughout the crowd. It had taken little convincing to get them to misbehave. That did not surprise her one bit. Soon men decked out in cavalry red wandered outside to join the burmmie men in their ruckus. Miriam smiled into her drink at the thought of her mission accomplished- hopefully it was enough smoke to cover Tommy’s secrets.

The only downside to all this was that almost everyone Miriam knew at the reception had disappeared- whether for work or play. She cursed herself for not going out to the stables herself when she spotted the officer with the enormous grin and his stare fixed on her. Miriam hadn’t wanted to ruin her new shoes so now she was going to be entertainment to this man, lord, gentleman, whatever he was from Grace’s family. She looked everywhere but at the older gentleman as he made his approach. Fuck Michael. He’d promised at dinner he wouldn’t leave her alone at the party but he’d ditched her first chance he got. Now she had no backup.

The stranger grinned at her as he came within arm’s reach. Miriam figured he thought of himself as suave, but it struck her as more of a leer. Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to recoil if her got too close. Not that there would be anywhere for her to shy away to, she was already practically leaning against the wall.

“Excuse me miss, but I couldn’t help but notice you came alone.”

Before Miriam had the chance to retort a warm handed snaked around her waist, pulling her into a hard chest.

“No, she didn’t.”

She let out a sigh, quickly relaxing into Isiah’s grip. This was not the first time he’d pulled such a charade for her. His embrace was welcome and familiar. Miriam did also enjoy the way the officer’s eyes went wide at Isiah’s appearance and supposed affection for her.

“Come on, love.” Isiah grinned as he pulled her away, leaving the cavalry in their wake.

The preacher’s son snickered as he tugged her down a vacant hallway. “Served the bastard right.”

“Thank you for the rescue, Isiah. It’s appreciated. As usual.” Miriam smiled back at the boy who had made a habit of rescuing her from unwanted attention when her cousins weren’t around.

“The last thing you need is a cavalry boy drooling all over you tonight.”

Miriam couldn’t help but laugh at the mental picture. “Still, thank you. You don’t have to save me but you do every time.”

Isiah shook his head, “your cousins would have my eyes if I didn’t.”

“That’s not true!”

“Ask ‘em yourself. Finn’s race is about to start.” Isiah promptly dragged Miriam outside to the drive and into the distraction.

Peaky Blinder boys sure do know how to make noise.

Finn sped by on one of Tommy’s prized mounts, shortly followed by a rider in red on a black stallion. The crowd hollered and cheered as they raced down the drive. Johnny Dogs was hawking by the stables, always one to take the opportunity to earn a few coins. This was more of what a Shelby wedding should look like.

“Come on Finn!” Isiah shouted after her youngest cousin before racing down the drive with the rest of the crowd. Miriam couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Finn and Isiah so badly wanted to be men, like Tommy, but in moments like these they were still boys. She hoped that despite this business at hand they could stay boys for a while longer.

Lord she was even starting to think like Aunt Pol.

Sucking it up, Miriam left the safety of the stoop to stand next to her father as he smoked by the stables. There really was no reason for her to buy expensive shoes when she always ended up in the stables anyways.

“Ah! Lady Miriam has decided ta grace us wit her lovely presence!”

“Johnny Dogs, you well know I am not a lady.” Not that Miriam didn’t like the idea of being a little more important than she was.

“What, they don’t give out lady-ships ta scrap yard princesses?”

Her father scoffed at the idea, though he rolled his eyes at most of what came out of Johnny Dog’s mouth.

“Wrong side of the family Johnny, it’s the Boswells who were royalty,” Miriam chided.

“Ah but dressin’ like dat you sure look like royalty, Lady Miriam!”

Being the sweet talker, as usual. Miriam really wasn’t surprised he had so many kids wandering about.

“Alrigh’ off with ya’. Stop flirting with my daughter.”

[twistedrunes]

heya sorry for all the requests but could you do dating finn headcanons? or dating finn and being isaiahs (not sure how you spell his name?!?!?) sister? thank you!

Thank you for your request, please don’t apologise, I asked for requests!! Here’s your little fic. Sorry I changed it a bit. As always it’s longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889688

As Isaiah’s little sister you had known all the Shelby boy’s for ages. But it was Finn you were sweet on. He was quiet and a bit shy. But when he was with your brother he was a bit more comfortable and he was funny and kind and just ‘nice.’You’d crushed on him for AGES, but he never seemed to notice you beyond being your brother’s sister. He was nice to you and all but that was it.

Until the day he rescued you. You were shopping, just picking up some bits and pieces for dinner when some older boys started whistling at you and following you. You tried to just ignore them. Then one of them grabbed your skirt and tried to lift it up to see your underwear. You were scared.

You still don’t know where Finn had come from. But he did, knocking the boy holding your skirt to the ground, kicking him in the stomach and yelling at him to get his hands off. He’d pulled his cap from his head and held it threateningly up to the boy’s face. 

“Apologise now.” He grunted.

In wide-eyed fear, the boy had done as he was told. “Sorry Miss Jesus. It won’t happen again.” he’d stuttered. 

“Right. Fuck off before I give ya the flogging you deserve. Never come near her again.” Finn had instructed. 

Once the boys had turned the corner. Finn had ducked down to look at your face “You ‘right?” he asked kindly. You had promptly burst into tears. Finn had looked slightly horrified for a moment, unsure what to do. 

“Just give me a hug, you idiot.” You had said throwing your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. 

Finn stood frozen like stone. You had cried a little into his chest realising how lucky you had been. Slowly Finn embraced you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once you composed yourself, you told Finn he could let you go. He did as you asked immediately but you didn’t miss the little sigh when you stepped back. “I’ll walk you home.” Finn had said taking the packages from your arms. 

“Who knew my brother was friends with such a gentleman.” You’d joked. 

Finn grinned a little and walked to the other side of you placing himself between you and the road. Then he’d slipped off his jacket placing it around your shoulders explaining that it was a little cold at this time of the afternoon. It wasn’t, but you didn’t say anything. Then he took your hand and hooked it on to his elbow. You made small talk about the butcher’s wife being pregnant again and what you were doing at school. 

Arriving at your house, Finn had insisted on taking you inside. Telling your mother what had happened. Your mother had thanked him and then he left. You could still feel the weight of his jacket on your shoulders and the warmth of him in the palm of your hand. Your mum had told Isaiah and your dad what had happened at dinner. 

“He’s a good lad.” Your father had commented. 

“Good.” Isaiah had said, “how it should be, looking after ya mates sisters when they’re not around.” 

The next day Finn popped around to check you were okay. He brought you a little posy of flowers, tied with a piece of string. You went for a walk, he put your hand on his arm again. The day after that he came around to see if Isaiah was home. You had blushed knowing full well he knew Isaiah was at the races all day. You went for another walk. The day after that he offered to walk you to church. You were surprised because you thought he only came when his Aunt made him. The following day he walked you to and from school. After school, he offered you a sweet, “Lemon drops are your favourite aren’t they”. He said.  You took the long way home, via the cut. You had become very nervous seeing where he was taking you. Knowing that was where you’re brother took girls to kiss them and more. The two of you settled on a bale of hay, Finn pulling out a cigarette and offering you one. You had declined politely. The two of you had chatted about things, slightly more in-depth than before, but still light enough. His job at the betting shop, your brother, what you were doing at school, what you wanted to do after school. 

“Well I’d better get you back or your brother will be after me.” Finn had joked standing unexpectedly. 

“Oh,” you’d said causing Finn to look at you, his forehead wrinkled slightly. 

“Something wrong?” He’d asked kindly. 

“Well, um, I thought. You know, I know this is where my brother brings girls.” You’d stammered hopelessly. 

“Yeah, it’s quiet here, not too many nosey people,” Finn said conversationally. 

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked finally able to get some sort of thought into your head. 

Finn’s hand rose to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he ducked his head, trying to hide his flushed cheeks. “Well, I wanted to talk to you and my brothers and yours will get in the way. So,” he stops. 

“So you don’t want to kiss me?” You had asked boldly. 

“No. Yes. I mean if you want?” Finn's, his skin flushing deeper, as he lifted his eyes nervously to yours. “I mean, I liked it when we hugged the other day.” You hesitate for a moment and he shakes his head “Forget it. Come on I’ll take you home.” He said with a sigh as he offered his arm. 

You caught his arm, turning him back to face you. You slid your arms around his waist. Finn stood frozen again. So you took his hands and wrapped his arms around you. “It works better if you do it too you know.” You’d teased him gently. 

Finn quickly pulled his cap from his head, shoving it in his pocket before allowing himself to move his hands slightly on your back. Then looking down and seeing you smiling he was suddenly emboldened. Ducking his face down close to yours “May I?” he says quietly, eyes wide watching you. 

“You may.” You’d replied rising up on your tiptoes to bring your mouths together.

Enjoy this? Have a head-canon you want me to do? Send me an ask

Interested in my other work? Go to my MASTERLIST

Want to be tagged? GO HERE

[hb-writes]

Isiah Jesus & Clara Shelby

✵ Things They Left Behind - Parts 1-3: 1918. John, Arthur, and Tommy have just returned from France to rediscover the things they’ve left behind: Ada, a set of twins, the business, and a few treasures their youngest sister has been keeping safe for them. *COMPLETED*

✵ Little Lady Blinder Series: 1919. Clara Shelby is a kind girl, a smart girl, a well-behaved little sister in a town full of gangsters and ruffians. With the girl’s raising thus far being such a simple task, the Shelby family is left unprepared for all that accompanies a perfectly respectable little girl growing up and becoming a lady among Peaky Blinders.

✵ Seeing Stars: 1921. When Finn, Isiah, and Clara get themselves in to trouble with Polly, they’re left in the church to wait on their comeuppance.

✵ The Gentle Touch: 1922. Clara Shelby has an affinity for injuries and an aversion to medical care, a deadly combination if her best friend was anyone other than Isiah Jesus. 

✵ Something: 1922. Tommy has sensed a change in the way his youngest sister relates to the boys of Small Heath.

✵ The Council: 1923. The boy’s reaction to fifteen-year-old Clara Shelby being friends with the Watery Lane boys. 

✵ Close-knit: 1923. It’s Christmas 1923, otherwise known as the year of Clara’s Christmas sweaters.

✵ My Person: 1925. Clara and Isiah haven’t talked in weeks but after a drunken night filled with a break up and scrapping in Small Heath, Isiah insists on going out to Arrow House to see her. 

✵ Friendly Indulgence: 1925. Clara gets herself into a bit of trouble walking through town on her own. She’s already handled it, but when her best friend finds her outside the Garrison, he decides it’s not nearly settled. 

✵ Thirteen Minutes: 1925. When Clara finds herself scared and alone at two in the morning, she calls her best friend to come bring her home.

✵ LITTLE LADY BLINDER MASTERLIST ✵

[comphy-and-cozy]

Unravel Me - Michael Gray x Isiah Jesus x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Michael Gray shares his girl with his best friend. It’s not set in the FAIY universe, but it’s also not not set in the FAIY universe.

Word Count: 6.2k words

Warnings: Delicious and filthy smut. I wasn’t sure how to tag this. It says ‘threesome’ but it’s not really, exactly. Voyeurism, I suppose. Basically it’s just smutty goodness while Michael watches. Edit: ‘Cuckholding’ is the term I was looking for. S/O to BrynTheBeatnik on AO3 for pointing that out. :) Edit 2: 'Hotwifing' is the other term I was looking for.

This is an extremely self-indulgent fic and I’m not sorry. Thanks to @emotchalla​ for encouraging my filth, as always. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

A threesome is every man’s dream. Isn’t it? For a dude who likes women, the thought of not one, but two women wanting to fuck you is a fantasy that many men do not get to live. So when the opportunity presents itself, you take what you can get, right?

At least, that’s the case for Isiah Jesus. He’s a local celebrity, with no issue of bedding a woman when he wants, but even for him, the concept of a threesome is foreign.

And then there’s her. This beautiful woman, with a body sculpted by God himself; soft, plump, kissable lips; eyes that would engulf you alive if you weren’t paying attention; soft skin for miles; and, rumor has it, the world’s tightest pussy. And guess what? She wants to fuck him.

The problem is, she’s his best friend’s girl. It’s not the age-old story of falling in love with the girl he can’t have, but rather, the modern-day twist of how he fucked his best friend’s girl — while he watched. So, maybe it wasn’t a true threesome, per se, but still, the sentiment was there. 

It started as a joke. A drunken night with the boys, tossing stories around and goofing off over a round of beer. 

“Dude, would you ever have a threesome?”

Of course, they’d be stupid not to find her attractive; that much was clear, and it was a no-brainer. The more obvious issue was the lines that would be blurred by taking that step. But it was a hypothetical question, right? In that case, he’d be stupid not to accept.

But somewhere along the way, the hypothetical morphed into a reality. A few comments here, a furtive glance there. It happened so gradually, so naturally, that he didn’t realize it was happening until one day the plan had been solidified. And at some point along that journey, he subconsciously took the deep dive into desperately wanting to fuck his best friend’s girl.

That’s how he wound up standing in the house that they shared, at the threshold to their bedroom, teetering on the line of no return. ‘Nervous’ isn’t the word he’d use to describe what he is feeling, but rather, ‘timid’; he doesn’t know what to expect, and further, he doesn’t know how this will change his relationship with both of the people in the next room. 

Steeling himself, Isiah reminds himself that he and Michael have been through just about everything (well, except a threesome — is that what this is considered?), and they are all consenting adults who can handle a shift in dynamic. Everyone is on the same page, they’ve all discussed the limits and boundaries, and if anyone can smoothly handle a transition like this with grace and class, it’s her. 

He steps into the bedroom, a room he’s been in only once before when getting a tour of their new place. Since then, an invisible barrier of respect prevents visitors from entering; it is a private, sacred room, saved for the two of them and their intimate moments. But now, he has an invitation, and the room he stands in has a whole new feeling to it, as if it knows what is about to happen inside its walls.

She’s wearing one of Michael’s fine dress shirts, the normally crisp white material softened a bit under her wear; only the middle buttons are clasped, leaving plenty of her bare chest exposed (not enough, Isiah notes, to see more than just an overly tantalizing view of her cleavage), along with her bare legs. He briefly wonders if she is even wearing panties, the material falling just past the curve of her ass, covering her modesty if she was truly nude underneath.

Michael gestures at the luxurious lounge chair next to his, upholstered in a rich-looking gray material. Isiah takes the hint, sitting down and making himself comfortable. His friend offers him a glass of wine from the opened bottle on the table, and he accepts graciously, appreciative of the slight comfort that a liquid blanket provides. 

He glances tentatively at her, biting her lip as Michael pats his own leg for her to perch on. She does so and nestles into him, his hand caressing the smooth skin of her thigh as he brings his mouth to her ear.

“Do you want this, angel?” he murmurs, and Isiah feels like he shouldn’t be here for this conversation, but somehow he knows that Michael’s instruction to sit isn’t optional.

To Isiah’s relief, she nods. Michael brings a hand to her jaw, nudging with a crooked index finger for her to face him, and she does. He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, then asks against them, “Are you sure?”

Her eyes lock with Isiah’s, as she nods, certain of herself. “Yes.”

Read the rest on AO3!