#isiah x finn

[youraveragebtsstan]

📢 Calling All Finn Shelby & Isiah Jesus Stans To The Front, Please! 📢

After a tiresome scour of the internet for any Isiah/Finn Fics, I've decided to write one myself- specifically 2:

One will be a short drabble where Finn and Isiah gets a little naughty after Isiah introduces Finn to a new drug from overseas. And the other will be a chapter fic that takes place 2 years post-series where Finn and Isiah gets reacquainted eventually leading to more.

I'm deliberately leaving out the juicy bits in case one of you rats tries to steal my idea, however, I did want to share just in case anyone wanted to save this post that way once I'm done with either one, I'll update on here.

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P.S: I refuse to believe no one else can see what I see when these two are on screen .... Ughhh 😩😣

[blakeswritingimagines]

When You Fall Asleep On Their Shoulder

Thomas:

Finds it ridiculous that you even fell asleep on him but doesn't move while you continue to rest against him and if asked he'll simply say he was already busy and that it wasn't for you.

He's noticed that you start out with a little lean, your head resting on his shoulder. Soon that turns into a full-on nap. He finds it endearing and makes him feel like an old softy. He'll give you a little kiss on the forehead. He'll sit around thinking to himself, "Maybe there's more to life than violence" and that he could get used to this.

Doesn't let anyone wake you up and quietly threatens anyone who dares to make too much noise when your resting on him, will act like nothing happened when you wake up nor does he say anything as he sits down next to you the next time he sees how tired you are.

Arthur:

If you fell asleep on his shoulder, he would feel touched and humbled. It would remind him of the great trust you have in him, and he would be incredibly moved by the vulnerability and intimacy of the moment and would be careful not to disturb your sleep.

He feels like he can't describe it in detail because it's such an amazing feeling. If you're relaxed enough to fall asleep on his shoulder, that says that you feel safe with him and that's the best feeling in the world.

Will try to keep noises to a low volume but simply can't help it especially when someone starts messing with him which will cause him to get loud but will try to help you fall back to sleep if your still tired.

John:

He thinks you are nothing short of adorable but that does not save you from him messing with you as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

He'll poke at you, try to move you, make jokes to you even as you sleep, and makes fun of it when you are awake.

It is a moment of intense intimacy, a moment of deep connection which he values. It’s like you're showing him this softer side of yourself which he's only been honored to see a handful of times.

Ada:

She'll smile to herself once she realizes this and gives you a kiss on your head as she sits still so you stay comfortable.

Loves that you found comfort in her to do this and feels a protective need come over her.

Checks up on you afterward to make sure your doing okay and getting enough rest while making sure you don't feel too embarrassed.

Finn:

He would be smiling to himself, leaning his head closer to yours. And then try to sleep with you, but he would be in his head not able to fall asleep. He would kiss your forehead and pull you closer.

He loves it. There’s no better feeling in his world. He hopes you are comfortable and will lay his jacket over you. Thinking about how peaceful you look. So content. In love. All around him.

This has never happened before and he can't help but find it very cute and endearing, and he would be very comforted. He would feel so grateful for the trust that such an act would demonstrate, and he would be very inclined to protect and support his partner’s well-being.

Polly:

She would let you sleep. She would try to keep everything quiet so that you wouldn't wake up from those noises. This love would mean the world to her, and she wants to make sure you have the best sleep possible even if she does tease you a little after you wake up.

It's very sweet. It's like a sign of trust. It doesn't happen a lot, so, when it does she knows that you really trust her. She feels like she needs to protect you, and will force everyone to quiet down especially if they want her attention.

She will let you sleep as long as you need. She will make sure no one wakes you up, she will stay by your side and hold you closely. She will protect you from anything or anyone that tries to do you any harm. You are her world.

Micheal:

He would be thrilled. This would be a sign of great trust, and, as someone who craves intimacy with the people he loves, this would give him a great sense of contentment and safety.

He can get annoyed because it’s an inconvenience if he's busy or meant to go do something. First of all, this shouldn’t be happening because if you were tired you could've gone home. Secondly, now he has a dead weight on his shoulder and he can’t move but will try to gently move you so you can keep resting but would make anyone regret waking you up.

He would let you sleep peacefully. You both would have plenty of time to speak once you wake up. He would try to keep others quiet, but he would not be upset if they were not perfectly silent. His partner is sleeping and deserves to rest without being disturbed.

Isiah:

You’ll never believe this but it makes him happy. That you feel safe with him and comfortable enough to just drift off. It’s nice, and it means you need him in your life. He's never felt anything like it before in his life. It feels right to him.

He's feeling pretty lucky to have you and he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart. He knows that sounds cliche, but it's true. He does love it when you fall asleep on his shoulder because it's a sign that you feel safe and content with him. It's something he cherishes and values. And he also just finds it really, really cute.

He'll give you a hard time and tease you but does also flirts with you to show he enjoyed having you close for however long you slept for.

Bonnie:

Can't help but enjoy this tender moment with you and how innocent it all is or how warm he gets from getting to hold you while you rest, can't help it as his thoughts start to wander about what life with be like with you and does bring it up to you once you wake.

It’s like a little victory for him when you fall asleep on his shoulder. It’s the biggest compliment for him because then he knows he's been doing something right. He loves you so much and it always brings a big stupid smile to his face when you do this.

Adores this with you and thinks you are so cute when you do that. He loves the feeling and tries his best not to move so you won't wake up. He can stay in that position for hours, just looking at your beauty while you are sleeping and knowing that you feel safe with him. This might be his favorite moment in life.

Alfie:

Thought it was adorable. You were tucked into his shoulder all snug and he knew at that moment that you and him were gonna be all right.

He's an absolute sucker for the quiet, close intimacy - when you're sleeping on his shoulder he feels like he could be in this moment for an eternity.

Another absolute menace on the list, he'll be teasing and messing with you by blowing in your ear, tickling you, poking at you, giving you kisses. You're vulnerable and he's in control, the possibilities are endless.

[themultifandomgal]

Peaky Blinders Characters

Arthur Shelby

Tommy Shelby

John Shelby

Finn Shelby

Michael Gray

Isaiah Jesus

Alfie Solomons

Shelby Clan (Platonic)

Shelby Sister

Peaky Blinders (Headcannons)

Polyamorous

A Different Kind Of Love (Arthur and Tommy)

[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!

[geeky-politics-46]

HEY! I just wanna say that your write is amazing! Really, I love so much your fics!

I saw that your requests are actually open, and if you still acepted requests, what characters of peaky blinders you write? I have some ideas (for kinktober and in general)

Aww thank you so much! Now that we are in the dead month of Dec for my normal job, I'm hoping to get a lot more writing done.

My requests are pretty much always open, lol. I love working on stories you guys submit. For Peaky Blinders, my main two are Arthur & Tommy. I will also gladly write for Alfie, John, and Isiah. Finn, Michael, and Bonnie aren't my faves but I would write for them too if requested.

Feel free to submit whatever you like! There's not a lot that I won't write, with the exception of obviously underage & other illegal things (consensual non-consent is fine & borderline consent is it depends).

[divinekangaroo]

if i were dying on my knees (would you stand aside and watch) - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Between S2-E3 and S2-E4, after the Digbeth Kid's death.

.

Whatever it was about the Shelbys, Isiah reflected, Finn had it, or he wouldn't entertain these threesomes with death and his brother.

.

More notes at the end of the fic. Screeching because I could have kept going and going with this one, it was a killer getting it to wordcount XD Isiah's fledgling crazy needs a novella.

.

Finn Shelby & Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby & Arthur Shelby, Isiah Jesus & Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Tommy Shelby | Fighting, Physical Abuse, Brotherly Dynamics, War Trauma, Jealousy, Bullying, Boxing, Drug Use, Adolescent Sexuality, Friendship, Intimacy, Dysfunctional Family, Found Family, Sharing a Bed, Foreshadowing

Hi I was wondering if you would do a Finn one where he some how ends up fighting Arthur and Arthur hurts him like the kids although it doesn’t kill Finn.

(John still alive)

Also would love if you could add some Finn x isaiah.

Xx

Hi anon, I'm gonna add this to list because THIS CONCEPT, such an absolute YES!

-- however, I'm not sure if I can get to it by end of Jan, because I've filled my days already and then I'm back at work. But keep an eye out, this is a brilliant idea!

[hb-writes]

Drunk Shakespeare

Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.

Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.

Prompt: Almost caught

Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.

After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.

Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it. 

It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.

In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.

Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.

Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.

She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her. 

"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?” 

Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.

"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"

Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk. 

Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.

"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."

"You're finished?”

Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'

"I've been done for hours." 

"What are you sitting in here for, then?"

She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.

Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" 

"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—" 

“Finn," Isiah interrupted.

"What?"

"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."

Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.

"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'

"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk. 

Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm��all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead. 

“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?” 

It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.

“I meant who’s he with?” 

Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?” 

Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.

“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling. 

“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?” 

“Tom—”

“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him. 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again. 

Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.

“You’re insufferable.”

Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”

Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit. 

“You’re testy today.”

“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.

“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?” 

Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah. 

“We’re all locked up?”

Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.” 

“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.” 

Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma��am.”

Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things. 

Not every single thing, but most. 

Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it. 

As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop. 

Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house. 

But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being. 

Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her. 

She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before. 

To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.

The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place. 

And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples. 

“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart. 

Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them. 

Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go. 

Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse. 

As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her? 

Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled. 

“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”

“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”

Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high. 

The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading. 

Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara. 

“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.

Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window. 

Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was. 

Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.

“I can—”

“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.” 

“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”

“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.” 

Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah. 

Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.

The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom. 

“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?” 

While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books. 

Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.” 

He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.

Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”

It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.

“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.” 

Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?” 

“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.” 

He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”

Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.” 

“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.

“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.” 

Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.

“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.” 

Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed. 

How they both had been managed for years now. 

Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.

“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”

They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.

Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space. 

Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.

Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.

Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish. 

It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.

Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them. 

No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6. 

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine. 

Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world. 

With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this. 

She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky. 

“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"

Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.

“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—” 

“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.

A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.

“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”

“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.

“She’s got a point, mate.” 

Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough. 

"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.

"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."

Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.

Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.

"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."

Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.

No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...

"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard. 

When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm. 

“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”  

Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” 

Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.

"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.

They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else. 

Most especially from everyone else. 

They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.

If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.

Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts. 

But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.

Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them. 

“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.” 

“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.” 

“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest. 

Clara sighed and nodded. 

“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding. 

“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”

They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.

“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught. 

Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge. 

For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love. 

In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.

And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.

They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck. 

Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.

Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult. 

“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”

Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”

“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”  

“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby” 

“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips. 

They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[shelbycompanylmtd]

Closer Than You Think

Warnings: smut

I’m back from the dead x

Myself and Finn had a strange relationship. I’m a close friend to the Shelby family. My Father passed away during the war and ever since my Mother has only come home to sort herself out and then disappear again to do God knows what.

I found comfort in my neighbours. Especially Polly Gray. She taught me about her spiritual ways when I was most down and introduced me to the three eldest of the Shelby boys when they came home from the war.

I’d say Finn and I have always been friends but now I’m involved in the Shelby business as Tommy’s secretary, we bypass each other with a simple ‘Hi’ and carry on.

I’ll admit, I’ve always had an infatuation with Finn. As he grew older and basically grew into his Peaky hat, he could command a room with just his eyes.

Even though I’m usually Tommy’s secretary, today I’m acting as Finn’s as Tommy says he could use a hand organising the mounds of documents in his office.

He was currently reading through a pile of papers I’d asked him to sort through to see if they were rubbish or not. ‘What are you doing for lunch?’ He spoke into the quiet room. Stood near the window wiping the dust off a cabinet I had cleared I replied, ‘I’m not sure, might just see what Polly’s doing’. He hummed to himself as I asked him what he was doing for lunch. ‘I’ve got a whore on the way, she shouldn’t be long’ he replied bluntly.

I rolled my eyes trying to think of any reason this man would need to pay for sex. I don’t think he realises half of Small Heath are drooling over him, including myself. I was preparing to excuse myself as I didn’t want to be in the room when she arrived. Movement outside the window caught my eye. ‘Is your whore Chinese?’ I asked. ‘I think so, why?’ He got up and walked to the window. ‘She’s just put a knife in her pocket, this is why you shouldn’t pay for random girls to service you’, I stared at him.

He rubbed his nose, ‘oh yeah and where exactly am I meant to find better?’ He was staring down at me. ‘Closer than you think’, I toyed with him. He walked towards the door, thinking I’d done something wrong I carried on sorting my things to leave for lunch. I heard Finn open the door and shout down the hall to Isiah, ‘send that whore away will you’. Isiah shouted back confirmation of some sort.

Finn walked back over to me and pulled me into a kiss. My hands went straight to his chest as the kiss continued. He walked us back to the wall behind us. ‘You should’ve said something sooner’ he said to me. We stared at each other, ‘what do you mean?’ I questioned as I caught my breath. ‘I’ve been wasting my money on random girls when I could’ve been treating you like a queen’ he replied.

He pulled me into another kiss as he picked me up and walked us over to his desk. He moved things out of the way, making it obvious that he was trying to keep things organised as to not reverse all the work I did in the morning. I giggled as he pulled me to sit on his desk. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong but you’ve never?’ He left his question open ended. I blushed as I hid my face in his shoulder, ‘nobody seemed worth it’, I replied. You could tell his ego was soaking in the fact that that meant that he was worth it.

I wore a dress that hugged my waist and fell down to my knees. As he pulled me into another kiss, his hands ran from my waist and down my thighs. He began to push my skirt up to my waist, he made eye contact with me as I nodded for him to carry on. I felt his fingers brush against the cotton of my underwear, letting out a whine as the ache left me wanting more.

I felt his fingers push my underwear to the side as his hand cupped behind my knee to pull my leg up round his waist. His fingers brushed my clit as he pulled me into another kiss, being in complete control of the current moment. He pulled away from the kiss, our foreheads still touching ‘you’re unreal’ he whispered. I let out a moan, pushing myself closer to his hand.

He abruptly pulled his hand away, pulling a whine from my mouth. ‘Be patient’, he toyed with me. His hands began to pull the zipper down at the back of my dress. As I pulled the dress off my shoulders, my hands then began to unbutton his shirt. His jacket discarded early this morning. My hands slid down his chest beginning to unbuckle his belt. He pushes my hands away, ‘I’m not done with you yet’, he smirks.

He lifts me up to pull the dress from my waist, shoes discarded at the same time. He places his hand on my stomach and pushes me to lie back on the desk. He bends to kiss my stomach as my fingers tangle in his hair. His fingers reach to pull my underwear down and then undo my bra. He looks down at me as I look up at him, both admiring what we see.

He sits in the chair infront of his desk and leans forward so his tongue can work its way over my clit. My hands fly back to his hair as I moan and curve my back away from the desk. He flicks his tongue back and forth as I feel the pressure building in my stomach. I feel his fingers brush up my leg to join his tongue as he pushes one finger inside of me. I could cry at how good it feels. I moan his name as I pull on his hair.

He pulls away from my clit and kisses my thigh as he pushes two fingers in me. I could feel the pain but the pleasure took over. My hand reached behind my head as I held onto the edge of the desk. I moaned out into the room as Finn watched his fingers push in and out. I needed to feel more so my hand wanders down and starts to play with my clit. ‘Fucking hell’ I hear him whisper.

I make eye contact with him as he begins to lean over and pull me into a heated kiss. One hand holds the back of his head as the other scratches at his shoulder. His thumb plays with my clit as his fingers pick up the pace. Pushing me over the edge as I start to convulse on the desk in front of him. I let out a string of curse words whilst moaning his name. He continues kissing me as my high comes and goes.

He circles my clit slowly, watching me react as he stares into my eyes. He kisses my cheek, my shoulder, my neck. ‘Come on, lunch was over 15 minutes ago.’ He whispers in my ear. I roll my eyes at him as I tried to get myself ready again. He helps me where he can and I go back to my temporary desk in the corner of his room.

We sorted a few more papers out before Tommy and Arthur were bursting through the door telling us a man had sent a whore to kill Finn. We both laugh and explain he’s fine. Tommy looks at both of us, ‘I left you two alone for less than 24 hours and this is what you do’. He walks out with Arthur.

Part 2 anyone?

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 49: What Do You Want?

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

I just saw some of these people only a few days ago. Now I must face them with a heavy heart. I take a deep breath and enter the dining room. Everyone is already sitting at the round dinner table with expecting looks. Johnny’s here. Polly changed her haircut. Lizzie, Ada, Uncle Charlie. Jeremiah and Isiah are in attendance. As well as one more familiar face.

“Finn, how are-oh!” 

I gasp when the young Shelby nearly squeezes all the air out of me in a tight hug. Everyone’s still looking, so I steer him off to the side to avoid more unwanted attention. When Finn finally lets me go I see just how much a year has aged him.

“It’s all changed, Verena,” he whispers dreadfully, shaking his head. “Nothing’s the same. Our family… Thank God you’re here.”

I squeeze his hand. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to help smooth things out. Where have you been staying?”

“I’ve been hanging around with Isiah. We’ve been studying some. I told him about all the books you showed me.”

For a moment I take in Finn’s face with a bittersweet gaze. It seems that every time I see him, the young boy I ran into all those years ago disappears little by little. Both Polly and I warned Thomas about this. Now it’s already starting to happen.

“You’ve grown up.”

Finn shrugs. “Had to. We all took a hit. After you left Tommy stopped talking. Guess he thought I’d hate him too. How’ve you been?”

Aside from possibly having my family threatened and just witnessing Thomas completely naked?

“Pleasantly well. It’s been nice to work from home but I knew I needed to be here, especially for the holidays. And now…”

Footsteps alert us back to the front of room. Thomas walks in and the atmosphere gets even more tense. Neither Finn nor I make a sound.

Thomas gives the crowd a once-over before speaking. But even when he does start he keeps his eyes down, still afraid to face his family.

“John is dead. Esme’s gone on the road with the Lees. She’s taken the kids. Michael is badly wounded, they say it’s 60/40 in his favor.”

“There’s no number, there’s no percentages,” Polly grunts. “So the hand, the hand beneath him stops falling. Spoke to someone… my son will live.”

Michael was right. Polly’s scattered mind is jumping from one dimension to another.

Thomas continues nonetheless. “Michael and John were shot because we killed someone. Vincenzo Changretta. His son Luca has come to take revenge. Men from New York and Sicily are here in Birmingham. These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead. That’s how it works. An eye for an eye.”

Lizzie narrows her eyes at me. “What about her?”

My mournful face turns cold. “My family’s Irish side is an enemy of the black hand too.”

“It’s called a vendetta,” Thomas explains.

“Yeah, well, the bullet’s been written,” Arthur declares and holds up the bullet in question. “It says Luca. When the time comes, and it will come, me as the oldest brother, will put it into his fucking head.”

Thomas takes a breath. “There’s been some bad blood between us.”

Polly starts outright laughing and ignores Arthur’s small pleas to quiet down. Thomas gives me a quick look but I honestly don’t know what to say. 

“Until this business is settled, we stick together. We stay here… Small Heath, Bordesley, Hay Mills down to Greet. We know every face, every man has a soldier in his army. These men are professionals, so we’re gonna need more than what we have. I sent a message to Aberama Gold.”

Johnny’s face jerks up and I can already tell he does not agree. “No! No, Tom. I can get ya 50 Lee boys. You need good men-!”

“No, Johnny. For this I need bad men,” Thomas states plainly.

“Tommy, his people are fucking savages! You know, heavens, Tom.”

“So this is the plan, Thomas?” Polly slurs and stands on uneven feet. “This is the plan? Bullet with a name on it, help from a bunch of savages.”

I don't care if we ask complete nutjobs to shoot these people! 

“Moss is putting the word out, eyes and ears so we can find them. The truth is that the coppers don’t give a fuck about us. Which means… that here today in this room, we have to agree to end this war between us. Take a vote.”

There it is. This is what I’ve been pushing for. From my spot next to Finn I show Thomas my proudest smile. He subtly gives me a look that seems to ask if he sounded legit. I respond with a slow nod and he anxiously waits to hear the others’ responses.

Arthur is quick to answer. “Peace.”

The answer is slowly passed around the table. Finn agrees too, even if he never had a falling out with Thomas, and is told to be quiet.

Finn scrunches his brow. “Why can’t I say peace?”

“Arthur, let him have his say,” Thomas says and gestures to an empty seat. “Finn? Sit at the table.”

He gives me a quick glance. Did we both hear that right? Goodness. Finn’s been waiting so long to have a seat. If only it weren’t under such grim tidings.

Finn sits down and Arthur grabs his head. “Little bastard.” They both share knowing smiles.

Polly speaks up. “My son’s not here to speak. So I’ll speak on behalf of us both. Truce.”

Across the room Linda catches my eye. Unlike Lizzie, her gaze is not full of bitterness. Instead she looks confused.

“Five for peace. Two for truce. One abstention.” Thomas gives the table one last nod. 

“Why don’t you go home?” Linda bluntly asks me.

Now everyone’s looking at me. I try to inch towards the edge of the room but Thomas gently grabs my arm. He doesn't have to say anything. I can’t be ashamed of being here.

“I-”

“She can’t. The Italians are there too.” Thank you, Polly!

“Let’s get on with the war.”

Thomas releases me and rushes out before I can stop him. Let him go, Verena. Remember Thomas copes with things alone.

For all of the funerals I have attended, a Gypsy funeral seems to be the most recollective kind. We’re gathered in a clearing at the edge of town. Two horses decorated in giant headdresses pull a wagon containing John’s body and a collection of his personal effects. It’s not like Grace or Aunt Eleanor’s funerals. Instead of shoveling dirt onto a coffin it’s like a tribute celebrating John’s life. The custom of black clothes is still followed. As much as I want to mourn properly, I can’t help but wonder why this was chosen to be in a place so… exposed.

“This is how John wanted to go,” Thomas begins. “On the smoke. The truth is, we died together once before. Arthur, me, Danny Whizbang, Freddie Thorne, Jeremiah, and John. We were cut off from the retreat. No bullets left, waiting for the Prussian cavalry to come and finish us off.”

Memories of vader’s stories come flooding back. All the things he heard in the medic tent… I can only imagine what kind of evils were on the battlefield.

“And while we waited… Jeremiah said ‘we should sing 'In The Bleak Midwinter.’ But we were spared. The enemy never came. And we all agreed that everything after that was extra. And when our time came, we would all remember-”

“You would remember the extra time that God gave you,” Polly says bitterly. “But what did you do with that extra time, eh Thomas?”

Thomas doesn’t answer. Instead he stays silent as the match is tossed and flames begin spreading over the wagon. This doesn’t seem right. I just saw John a few days ago, and now he’s gone. Goodbye, John. Wherever you are, we will not forget you. And I will pray for Esme-

Bang!

A gunshot rings out and I flinch towards the sound. Half the crowd screams and the others draw their guns. Me included. Where did it come from? No one seems to be hurt- 

“At ease! At ease!” Thomas holds up his hands. “Do not return fire. I repeat, do not return fire! The men doing the firing are on our side.”

Bang! Another shot signals another death.

“I took the trouble of giving an invitation to Aberaman Gold.”

Johnny Doggs scoffs. “Fuck. Now it’s begun.”

Polly shares his disbelief. “You put this out here on purpose. Use John’s funeral as a fucking beacon. You set a trap!”

A trap… During this time of mourning? I’m about to slap him! What is this world coming to? Do these monsters have no morals?

Thomas ignores her and points to Finn. “Finn! Finn, go to the yard and light the fires.”

The young Shelby looks between him and Polly with unease. Eventually Finn does start walking and I follow him to avoid Polly as she storms over and continues to scream at Thomas. 

“How are you feeling, Finn?”

He lets out a shaking breath. “I’m torn, Verena. Part of me is sick of this headache. All this death. But then I can’t walk away. I want more.”

Something about the way he says that does not sit right. “More?”

“Yeah. They’re finally letting me be a part of things. Who knows what else I can do.”

“Finn,” I speak with a firm warning and put a hand on his shoulder. “More is not always the answer. Sometimes it’s the little things that amount to happiness. Like family.”

Finn grunts and keeps walking away. “Yeah. Family. Just look at how we’re still broken.”

I turn around to see where he was looking. He’s right. Linda’s trying to walk away despite Arthur’s orders to stay. 

Linda shoves Ada away when she tries to stop her. “I’m going home to the country-”

“You will stay here until it’s over,” Ada orders and thrusts over a house key. “Take the fucking key, Linda.”

I catch up to them and Linda gets even more irritated. “You married into this. Whether or not you think you’ve changed Arthur, you cannot change the rest of this family.”

Ada nods. “They will take you hostage. And the baby. They will use the baby. Take it. Put the kettle on, wait for your husband.”

With a tartly smile, Linda stiffly takes the key. “The only way you Shelbys will ever leave this place is in a cloud of smoke like John.” She gives me a pitiful pout. “And you, Verena, I’m surprised you’re still here. Why aren’t you with your own family?”

My eyes narrow and my mouth presses into a line. “They are safe in America under my uncle’s watch.”

“And for the record, we are her family too.” Ada puts a hand on my shoulder. “You're Shelby too, Linda.”

I smile at her kindness and shake my head at Linda’s eye roll. “I don’t know why you keep thinking you can change Arthur.”

“Oh, like how you try to change Thomas? You slip your morals and Christian values into your relationship with him, expecting him to catch on.” Linda sneers gleefully. “But he won’t.”

Are all women this dramatic? “I know he won’t. I know I can’t change this family. But I can stand by them.”

Linda doesn’t respond. She keeps walking away while Ada follows, giving me an apologetic look before they round the corner. The rest of the funeral attendees start dwindling back to town, leaving me to be escorted to wherever the Peaky Blinders are off to. I follow them to a scrap yard and try to ignore the terrible ash and smoke clogging my lungs. And I thought Brooklyn was filthy. 

At the center of the dirty yard a line of mismatched tables and chairs is set with plates and bottles of whiskey. I take a look around and notice Finn is missing.

“Where’s Finn?” I ask Thomas, who’s starting to smoke another cigarette.

“I sent him with Curly to dump the bodies.”

Why does the thought of Finn handling corpses not seem right? “It’s gracious of you to let him in on more responsibility, but please remember to keep it at bay. Finn doesn’t need to-”

“Verena, love, you can’t decide Finn’s future,” Thomas interrupts with stern annoyance. “He’s growing into a man. You’ve taught him well and now it’s time for him to take on a man’s world.”

Just then I hear footsteps behind me and Thomas pushes me aside to begin talking to someone. I huff in frustration and take a seat next to a few chatting Blinders.

“Everything alright, Ms. Steenstra?” Harry asks and tilts his rifle on his shoulder.

“Nothing I can control, apparently,” I mutter, staring at the muddy footprints.

“Well well, what have we here?” The new voice is directed at me.

I look up to face a tall man in a brown trench coat and matching homburg. His long, graying hair is quite unique than the other Peaky Blinders’, adding another noticeable difference between the two groups in the yard: The Peaky Blinders dressed in dapper suits, and this new man with three others dressed in much more modest attire. He walks up to me despite Harry making a performance of clutching his gun and looks me up and down.

“Aberama Gold,” he introduces himself with a devious look. “And who might you be? Or should I ask how much would you be?”

Thomas clears his throat. “Not for sale.”

My eyes narrow at him. “I can hear just fine.” I turn back to look at Mr. Gold. “If you think there is a price on any man’s head then you are gravely mistaken, sir.”

“I don’t see a man. I see a very fine woman.”

Thomas clears his throat again and walks over to stand behind him. “This woman is not afraid to bite back. Stay away.”

Mr. Gold does not. Instead he reaches out to grip my shoulder as one might do to a man. “You’re sturdy for a little thing.”

I jerk back and make a move of reaching for my pistol. “Do not tempt me!”

“Back off.” Mr. Gold’s face flinches into a sneer and he goes back to talking with Thomas. “You tell Mr. Strong that I’m going to buy his yard.”

Just how strong-headed is this man? He can’t just waltz in here and try to buy Uncle Charlie’s yard!

Thankfully Thomas is still not moved. “This yard has been in his family since they settled.”

Gold smirks. “But now it’s part of our deal.”

Thomas beckons to his uncle. “Charlie, come here.”

Uncle Charlie begrudgingly wipes his hands on a rag and strides over from where he’s working. From the look on his face I can tell he’s as uneasy as I am around Mr. Gold.

“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie,” Thomas says. 

“You going to what?” His uncle asks in disbelief.

“If it’s heads, he takes this all with my blessing. And if it’s tails, I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold.”

Excuse me? 

My eyebrows go sky-high and it’s all I can do to keep my jaw from dropping. Mr. Gold and the man next to him are obviously just as surprised, though their reactions are far more grim. I can’t listen to any more. There’s no changing Thomas’ mind. If this is how business with these men are to be carried out then I want no part of it.

I stand from my seat and walk off to the canal. Sadly I will have to wait here until this wretched meeting is over. It’s too dangerous for me to go back alone-

“Hello, miss. Hope you don’t mind chatting.”

It’s the younger man. One with dark hair and keen eyes, wearing a brown waistcoat and a hat similar to Mr. Gold’s. If he wants to ‘chat’ about another coin toss-!

“I’m Bonnie Gold.” 

He holds out a hand for me to shake, which I eye skeptically. “Verena Steenstra. You are Mr. Gold’s son, I imagine?” 

“Ay. Good to meet you, miss,” he smiles. “You have very pretty eyes.”

Goodness. Where did this behavior come from? I’ve only known Bonnie for thirty seconds and he’s like a split opposite of his father. 

“Thank you, Bonnie. At least you’ve got some manners about you.”

He takes the liberty to stand closer and eyes me with curiosity. “I’ve never met an American before. You’re much more, um…”

I crack a smile. “Sporadic?”

“On the contrary, you’re very put-together. If that makes sense?” He pauses a moment. “Um, how old are you?”

“Just turned 23 this October.”

Bonnie’s eyes widen. “Oh! Um, you’re older than I thought.”

What is it with everyone getting my age confused? I suppose this is what happens when you’re forced to grow up too fast. I must say for a young man Bonnie seems quite put-together himself. Much like Finn, in a way. Only he seems much more calm to handle things.

“You’re not a Peaky Blinder, are you?” He observes.

I shake my head. “Not officially. Just someone who lends a hand to the Shelby Company Limited. I’m the foreign representative.”

“Makes sense.” Bonnie tilts his head. “Would you want to join the fight?”

“And bring more violence into my life? I am perfectly fine with persevering oral battles rather than the guts and glory of what the Shelbys do. I can make just as much a difference with meeting in New York than with a pistol duel. Less blood.”

Bonnie gives a halfhearted chuckle and takes a quick look behind us. “I guess I’m used to blood. You’ve never met my father, but he is one of the best hitmen around here.”

Which is why Thomas hired him. Despite Mr. Gold’s bold introduction I must trust Thomas’ judgment that he will fulfill his assignment. 

“So he can protect us from Changretta?” I ask softly.

This makes Bonnie’s confidence melt into concern. “You’re involved in this too? Why?”

“It’s a long story. Basically my employment to the company ties me into the vendetta against the Shelbys.”

Bonnie’s mouth presses into a thin line and he gently puts a hand on my shoulder. A far contrast from how his father did. 

“We do not agree to consentingly involve women or children with violence like this. Verena, I promise no one will harm you. My father can handle this.”

Although I tense up at his touch I still value his kindness. “My own safety is not my concern. It’s my family back home I’m worried about.”

“Then we’ll kill these bastards off before they can try anything.”

His words bring a small smile to my grim face. Why do I have to be in a vendetta in order to meet men as caring as this?

“I appreciate the support, Bonnie. Thank you.”

“Oi! Stay back!”

We both flinch just as Thomas storms over and causes Bonnie to hurry back to his father. Mr. Gold looks between Bonnie and I with surprise. What the actual Hell is the matter now?

“Aberama, keep your men from her,” Thomas barks and stands in front to block me from view as the hitmen group starts to sit at the tables.

“Thomas!” I smack his shoulder. “We were just talking.”

“And now you’re not,” he states plainly. 

That cocky lul! So he can sleep with countless women but Heaven forbid I talk to another man!

“That’s not fair! It’s- I- Ugh.” I hold my aching head in defeat and try to ignore my anger. “Please tell me Mr. Gold refused the deal.”

“No wager today.”

“Thank Christ. How can you suggest such a thing? His daughters have no part in this-”

“Your family has no part in the mob business. How’s that treating ‘em, eh?”

My head snaps up and my blazing glare combats Thomas’ ice-cold one. “Watch your words, Thomas. They just might dig your grave.”

I shove past him and take a seat next to Arthur. He takes the hint that I’m in no mood to talk and leaves me alone. In the back I see Polly, Ada, and Lizzie being escorted over by some other Blinders. Ada looks pleasantly happy, but the others do not seem impressed. They take their own seats and try to ignore the rugged men at the end of the tables. All except Polly. She’s deciding to stand back and stubbornly sits down on a bench. She won’t let John’s death go. So this is how Boxing Day is spent.

I catch Thomas looking over at her and I swear I’m about to push him over there myself.

“Go to her, Thomas. Talk.” My tone offers no negotiation.

“Alright, alright.”

He stands up to go chat and apparently that’s Lizzie’s cue to start a conversation with me.

“So, Verena. Do you plan to stay long or does Tommy already have you stationed halfway around the world?”

Oh, she is so hoping for it. Sorry to rain on your parade Lizzie but I have much more deep concerns than picking a fight with you. It’s like arguing with Grace all over again. I am here to help this family! Not to give in to blindful lust!

“Hasn’t mentioned it, actually,” I answer wittily and innocent. “He wants me to stay here where it’s safe until this mob business is sorted out. I’ll do any work he needs here but I do want to be back in time for Easter.”

Lizzie hums in response and turns away to talk with Ada. Is that how things work? Every woman Thomas looks at is supposed to be set up in a line of competing mistresses? I- 

“Verena, has Edmund Colon said anything about the Sicilians?” Arthur interrupts my thoughts.

I give a low huff. “You sound like Thomas. No, not a thing. Maybe my broer tipped him off not to say anything. In fact I’m lucky to be here at all. My family’s not too fond of me working for Shelby Company Limited.”

Drip. Drip. Storm clouds roll in and rain starts to fall. So much for a festive meal. 

“I’m heading back to the house,” I declare and give Arthur a pat on the shoulder. “Tell Thomas, wherever he is, that I’ll be escorted back.”

Just then Bonnie hops up from the table and walks over to offer an arm. “Can I be of service?”

I look around to be sure Thomas is not around. Another fit of jealousy is not something I want to encounter again. I mean, it’s not as if Thomas has officially claimed any love for me. No doubt his actions towards me hint at love but no words have clarified it. 

“I would appreciate it, Bonnie.” I accept his arm and we begin walking back to Watery Lane.

Maybe my road in life isn’t set so straight. I’ve only met Bonnie for barely a day and he’s already shown so much compassion. It’s no doubt that he does not share Thomas’ suave aura or captivating eyes; but at this point I am starting to lose patience. When I first met Thomas it took weeks for him to completely open up about anything. Hell, he sometimes bottles things up even now. Thomas wants me to listen. Well, I’m tired of being expected to sit and listen like a trained dog! Maybe it’s time to follow his words and start to think about what I want.

@meadows5

[mindful-of-ideas]

Headcanon: Peaky Blinders

-Being Finn’s twin sister

A/N: I still haven’t watched season 6 (I know, I know, I’m getting around to doing it) and also there’s some Finn x Isiah if you squint.

Growing up, you were glued to each other. You would do everything together, mischief as well as good deeds. And you are very protective of each other.

Everyone thinks it’s because you’re twins but the truth is that Finn’s the only one who truly understands how you feel since your mom died. Your brothers, Ada and Polly sure tried to be there for you, but they had their own grief to deal with, so Finn and you could only rely on each other.

Even if you guys are close, it doesn’t mean that you can’t mess with each other. The nastiest pranks you ever pulled were at Finn’s expense.

But as you grew older, you started to drift away from each other. No one really noticed until your dad came to visit. You couldn’t stand the man, hiding behind Polly and clutching onto Tommy, hoping nothing bad would happen. But Finn tagged along with Arthur and you just couldn’t understand why.

“Tommy, don’t let him touch me,” you whisper as your brother pulls you closer. Your dad leaves, ruffling Finn’s hair. You could see your brother smile at that small gesture. “Finn… you know he doesn’t… he doesn’t mean it…” you say, still in Tommy’s arms, tears running down your face. “You’re lying!” he says before storming out.

It was around that time that you also realized you wanted to do something with your life. Seeing Polly take charge of the business had been inspiring, and just like Finn wanted to be like Tommy, you wanted to be like your aunt.

But those differences never stopped Finn and you from staying close. If Tommy wanted to keep you out of some Peaky activities, Finn was the first one to tell you and would drag you along if that’s what you wanted.

“You’re close to that Isiah guy?” you ask.  “He’s cool, he’s like my best friend…” he trails off seeing your face, “… friend… boy… friend I mean… as in a boy who is my friend… like all of my other friends “Good,” you say, “cause I’m your best friend.” “Of course,” he says, punching your arm playfully, “of course.”

As you get older, you realize you want to stick with school and try and get to university, which meant no more outings with the Peaky.

Finn is super supportive even if he’s sad to lose his partner in crime.

And you’re super supportive of everything he does as well. As long as he’s not flirting with death and as long as he’s happy, it’s fine by you.

Still, you make sure to celebrate each victory with him and your brothers, even if it means falling asleep at the Garrison (John always makes sure to put his coat around your shoulders, making sure no one is bothering you)

After John’s death, you decide to leave and study in London. This time Finn encourages you to leave. Even if you know you will hate being away from him, you both know you will feel safer the farther you are from Birmingham.

You love London, but you miss Finn, so you force him to write every week.

“This week, nothing new happened. Why am I writing this? Cause you’re forcing me to even if NOTHING EVER HAPPENS! Love, Finn  PS: Arthur just walked in screaming and swearing, apparently a rat ate his hat!  PPS: I had to explain to Isiah the ‘boyfriend’ thing, sorry it’s not our inside joke anymore.

Life in London is hard, being a girl living alone, but you manage and Ada is always close by. Your relationship grows during that time.

You come back every summer to visit and it’s like you never left.

“Here,” Finn says handing you a baseball bat. “Are we bringing your boyfriend as well?” you ask. Isiah gives you a reproachful look, which makes you giggle and miss Finn’s playful punch. “I’m just being polite by asking,” you add.

Isiah secretly likes you, but he will never admit it.

Finn’s punches are his way of showing affection, but if you ever need a hug, he’ll happily give you one. You’re the only one who gets to be this close to him.

[youraveragebtsstan]

Serious question here guys:

Is Isiah/Finn (from Peaky Blinders) a thing?

Like, I remember watching Peaky Blinders for the second time and based on the few interactions we see between them from S3-S6 being like, "Hmm... This could be something."

I've found a few Fics on AO3 and tried to find some scraps here on Tumblr but alas I have failed. Am I looking in the right place? Or does anyone know where I can go to find like-minded girlies?

I've been stewing in a couple pieces of headcanon (and probably will put it out there) but just wanted to know if I was alone.

[blakeswritingimagines]

You Cup Their Face

Thomas: He would be surprised at first, but he would lean into your hand and look deeply into your eyes. He would see your love for him and return it; the touch is tender and loving; it makes him feel warm and calm. He would enjoy the intimacy of the moment, soaking in the affection and holding it close in his heart forever.

Arthur: He would be surprised at first, as it's not something he ever expected from anyone. However, he would smile and let his partner cup his face, happy to receive the affection. He might even close his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to enjoy the closeness. As the moment lingered, he would open his eyes and look directly into yours, searching for reassurance that you were both having a meaningful, loving moment.

John: He would react by cupping your face as well, a sign of closeness and affection, while he gazes into your eyes with a sincere smile. He can see the love and trust that you have for him, which makes him feel at ease around you, and he wants to repay that trust with more affection, more closeness, more love.

Ada: She would be stunned and overwhelmed with emotion and joy if her partner cupped her cheek with any sign of affection. With a small squeal and a smile, she would lean into your touch and press her cheek into your palm gently.

Finn: He would be surprised at the sudden closeness and caressing of his face. It would spark a blush, as he is not used to such physical affection. However, he would let you continue for a moment, before breaking in to ask, "Um, do you need something?"

Polly: She gasps with delight as her partner gently cups her face in her palm, your touch sending a shiver up her spine. She leans into her partner's touch, savoring the closeness of your body and the sensation of your touch. She closes her eyes, breathing in deeply as she lets herself become consumed in the moment. She opens her eyes again, locking eyes with you and smiling softly, expressing appreciation for your attention and affection.

Micheal: He's a little surprised by your touch, but it's not exactly unwelcome. He smiles at you in appreciation and lets you hold his face for a moment, enjoying the intimacy of these moments you both spend together.

Isiah: He'd probably be surprised, as it's not something he's used to. But he'd be excited and honored that someone would do that to him, and he'd want to show that the only way he knew how: by giving you the most loving embrace possible. With how close it'd get your faces, he'd also use the opportunity to tell you how much you mean to him.

Bonnie: He would immediately feel safe and protected. He would lean into your touch and smile, feeling warm and secure in your presence. It would feel like your shielding him from the world, and he would want to return the favor by wrapping his arms around you and showing you affection.

Alfie: If his partner cupped his face, he would be surprised and delighted. He's sensitive to physical touch and enjoys the feeling of closeness when someone he cares about touches him. He would look into your eyes and enjoy the warm, loving embrace. You are a source of comfort and he'd feel secure knowing that you're there for him.

[themultifandomgal]

Peaky Blinders- During Pregnancy

Arthur

For the first couple of months of your pregnancy you had terrible morning sickness, lasting from the moment you opened your eyes until you fell asleep at night. Thankfully it didn't last longer than most peoples morning sickness and once you hit 16 weeks you stopped feeling so ill. You didn't really have any cravings until the very end of your pregnancy when all you wanted to eat was chocolate cake. Polly would bake you one a week

"Bloody hell woman have you eaten that whole thing yourself?" Arthur asks walking into the kitchen to see his wife taking the last bite of cake "didn't save me any" Arthur chuckles

"I haven't eaten it all today. I ate half yesterday and half today"

"Polly isn't baking you another until the end of the week"

"I'll just go into town tomorrow"

"Don't go on your own. Take a blinder with you"

"Of course Arthur"

Tommy

Morning sickness was a bitch, but not only that everything ached especially your breasts. Anytime Tommy came home smelling of whiskey you felt like you could throw up, or you did. You were also tired all day for the first couple of months. So tired that you stayed in bed most days

"Hi love. How are you feeling today?"  Tommy says bringing you a cup of tea in bed

"Like shit" you groan taking the hot drink from Tommy

"I'm going to take Charlie out to see the horses. If you need anything shout Mary or Francis. One of them will come and get me" Tommy places a kiss on your forehead making you smile

"I'll be alright. Been through this once before. I know the drill by now. Stay in bed drink tea and eat ginger biscuits" you chuckle making Tommy smile

"We won't be to long"

Morning sickeness lasted the first couple of months of the pregnancy, but once you started to feel better your energy came back. During your pregnancy you craved fruit. Any fruit. Be it watermelon, strawberries, bananas, pineapples, anything Tommy could get his hands on you would eat.

John

Morning sickness only lasted for the first month after finding out you were pregnant. You still had quite a bit of energy and John would often have to tell you to slow down

"What on earth are you doing?" John shouts running over to you and taking the mop out of your hands

"John calm down I was just mopping the floor"

"You should be resting”

"I'm only pregnant. I can mop the floor and anyway if I don't do it who will?"

"Me. I will" this cause you to laugh

"You? your going to mop the floor?"

"If it gets you to rest, yes"  John gets you to sit down on a chair at the table

"Won't your brothers make fun of you?"

"You won't tell them and I sure as hell won't be telling them"

"Fine" you cross your arms and watch as John starts mopping.

You didn't have cravings at all during your pregnancy and by the end your ankles had swollen and your back hurt so much the John had to take over most of the house work.

Finn

Your pregnancy was pretty easy. You were one of the lucky ones. You had no morning sickness, you weren't tired, no aches and pains. Everything was easy. Mood wise you were mostly happy and so when you cried it was usually because you we so happy

"I hate you" Ada says looking at you

"Why?" You chuckle

"Because your pregnancy has been so easy. Your not grumpy, tired or any sickness" Ada huffs making you laugh

"It's ok Ada. Easy pregnancy means painful birth"

"Isn't giving birth painful anyway?" you frown at Lizzie

"Yes but yours will be 10x more painful" your eyes widen then hear chuckling behind you

"Don't listen to her YN. Everything will be ok" Polly soothes your worries

"You'll be there though won't you Pol?"

"Of course love"

Your cravings were anything salty. You'd put salt on everything, even if it tasted shit.

Michael

Morning sickness was pretty normal. You suffered at certain points in the day, but once you ate you felt so much better. You tried to make sure you ate as healthy as you could... or well Polly would make sure you ate well because she wanted the best for her grandchild

"YN eat up" Polly places a plate down on the table

"Polly you know I hate parsnips and broccoli" you groan

"I know but you need to eat healthier now your carrying my grandchild. You look at Micheal

"I told you we shouldn't have told her"

"She would have found out on her own. Just hold your nose when you eat"

"If I throw up I'm blaming the two of you"

As your pregnancy went on and going to doctors appointments, you were told told you were expecting twins. This scared you knowing your birth would be more difficult and many other woman have in the past, passed away due to twins. This is why during the later months of your pregnancy you had to stay in hospital so that you could be kept a close eye on.

Your cravings were for anything sweet. Fruit, chocolate, fudge, anything sweet.

Isaiah

Bed rest was horrendous, but the fear of loosing the baby was much larger. You were scared to even go to the bathroom, worried that you would see blood. You barley slept during the first few months out of fear, but the fear continued until the baby was born.

"And how are you feeling Mrs Jesus?"  the doctor asks. Tommy made sure you were seeing the best doctor in the area

"Scared all of the time"

"Well I can say your babies heartbeat is very strong. Have you felt the baby move yet?"

"Errm I don't know"

"For this stage of pregnancy it will feel like bubbles in your stomach or wind"

"Oh then yeah"

"Ok and sickness?"

"Gone now"

"Ok every thing sounds good so far. I'll see you again in a couple of weeks"

You only had morning sickness for the first 3 months. You didn't crave a thing but you were always hungry so Isaiah always made sure that you had food. 

Alfie

Morning sickness only came around when you got tired. Your breasts ached and grew which Alfie loved!

Your brothers were constantly checking in on you and Polly said she would be staying with you and Alfie for the last month of your pregnancy so she could be there when you went into labour

"Shes going to kill me"

"No she won't"

"A month YN!"

"I already said yes to her"

"Because your afraid of her, right" he point accusingly at you

"No" you cross your arms over your chest "ok maybe a little, but I really do need a woman here for when I go into labour"

"But her?"

"Who else would you have aye?"

"I could..."

"I'll stop you right there because you will not be in the room with me"

"Why?" he crossed his arms

"Because my love I can hear you now. Eww that's what happens. Fucking hell love. I feel sick" you do your best Alfie impression

"Fine but once the baby is here she goes"

You craved cheese and Alfie always bought home some after work. Sometimes he even bought home crackers to put the cheese on.

[evita-shelby]

Aight so fem!reader won, and now for the next part

[runnning-outof-time]

Hey K. Hope you’re doing fine! 🖤 Prompt for your event: “Then Prove It” with Arthur please. No pressure though, take all the time you I want/need and feel free to ignore it if you doesn’t feel inspired.

Hi there Shark @call-sign-shark ! Thanks so much for sending this prompt in! I hope you like what I’ve done with it! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Should’ve Proved It

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, smoking

Word Count: 953

Summary: At the moment where he’s needed most, Arthur freezes.

“Then prove it.”

(Y/N)’s voice cut through the chatter, making the conversation at the table stop. Hell, the way it felt for Arthur, the entire Garrison might as well have been silenced by her three words.

The woman he’d just recently started seeing sat across from him, her expectant eyes locked onto his as she waited. Arthur didn’t know what to say. He was shit at explaining what he was thinking the way it was…he didn’t even want to attempt it with everyone’s eyes on him.

(Y/N) held her breath until she couldn’t anymore, letting it out in a huff as she shook her head. “Fuckin’ men…” she mumbled under her breath, standing from the chair and grabbing her purse so that she could leave. “Always freeze up the moment you need them,” she said before leaving the table, and the pub, without so much as sending a glance in Arthur’s direction.

“Well shit,” Michael said through stifled laughter as he poured himself a drink, a smug grin on his face.

“Fuck, mate. It seems as though you’ve lost your chance with her,” Isiah chimed in, snickering along with his counterpart.

Finn just sat there, trying his hardest to hold the grin back. He knew there’d be consequences for teasing his oldest brother…consequences he ultimately didn’t want to have happen.

“Yeah, well…” Arthur trailed off, his eyes darting around as he played with the cork of the bottle in front of him. He was shrinking into himself, and he absolutely hated the fact that it was all because these two, younger men were ribbing him.

Going even further, the fact that this was all over a woman made him feel like he was being eaten alive.

Pull yourself together, soldier, he mentally barked an order at himself before he stood from his seat and turned to the doors, grumbling all the way there about how Tommy was so busy and how he’d been left to drink with the children.

Why did I even fuckin’ invite her? he wondered to himself as he exited the establishment. If he hadn’t, he certainly wouldn’t have been put in this mess. It all started after Michael and Isiah noticed the change in him the moment (Y/N) arrived at the pub. And then the snickering started when she sat down across from him, and he subsequently forgot how to speak in sentences.

It reached the boiling point when the guys started outright teasing Arthur, saying that he’d once again gotten whipped by a woman; to the point where he couldn’t even speak.

So Arthur did one of the things he does best: speak for himself without thinking. And what he said messed everything up. It immediately resulted in a deadpan stare that accompanied the three word sentence (Y/N) posed moments ago.

He was thankful that he found her alongside the building. She was leaned up against the brick, in the middle of taking a drag from her cigarette. She glanced over in his direction as he approached her. Upon seeing who was walking her way, she cursed under her breath and quickly tried to look away. But Arthur was already locked on his target.

“I was hopin’ you hadn’t gotten too far,” he said as he stopped beside her.

“I wasn’t actually going to walk home,” she admitted begrudgingly, her eyes fixated on the gravel road. Why did you just tell him that?!, she screamed at herself.

“Come back inside,” he tried then, gingerly waving his hand.

“I can’t, Arthur,” she shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve made a fool out of me in there,” she was quick to answer his obliviously asked question, finally looking at him then. Arthur winced at the hurt that was present in her eyes. “You’ve made a complete mockery of our relationship by saying nothing.”

“They were just teasin’, love,” he tried to do some damage control.

“You still should have said something,” she didn’t buy his excuses.

“And what was I to say?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Maybe something other than ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’?” she suggested with raised eyebrows, “maybe you could have told them something along the lines of the things you tell me when we’re together? Like when you told me that you couldn’t imagine us being apart, or when you said that there was no one better for you than me? Were those true? Or were they just things you said to try to get me into your bed?” the hurt she was feeling was clear in her words by the end of her questioning.

“They weren’t,” Arthur insisted, shaking his head as he spoke, “I didn’t just say ‘em.”

“Then prove it,” (Y/N) repeated the same three words she’d said inside, “go back inside and tell them…tell them the things you tell me,” her demands were spoken softly but with a steady voice, and she ended by pointing in the direction of the pub’s doors.

Arthur froze up at her directions. “I…” the words died right there in his throat.

Much like inside the Garrison, (Y/N) held her breath until she couldn’t anymore. She let it out in a long exhale, hoping lessen the hurt she was feeling inside at that moment. It didn’t do a damn thing.

“I’m leaving,” she finally broke the silence, speaking in a dismissive tone. She took one last look at Arthur, not missing the utter devastation in his eyes, before she turned and began walking in the direction of her home.

It was simple in her mind now: if Arthur loved her like he told her he did, he should have went and proved it.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

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