#Isiah Jesus fanfic

[hb-writes]

A Familiar Tune

Summary: It’s 1924 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. When Isiah and his girlfriend have a very public break up at the Garrison, Clara tries to make him feel better.

Characters: Isiah Jesus and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: Break ups suck. Some swearing, some drinking, some smoking, mentions of sex. The typical peaky content.

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

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

"Come on, Clara. It's our birthday."

“He’s fine.” 

“Isiah can handle himself.” 

Clara knew it was true. Michael and Finn were right, even if they were both drunk and being right assholes about the whole thing. Finn had even laughed, a bit of his drink spit across the table when Isiah stormed out. 

Clara had tried to smack her brother upside the head in retribution then, but Finn had stopped her, the tightly wrapped fingers around her wrist easily able to quell the attack. Part of her had wanted to go for another swing with her free hand, but then she remembered Isiah. 

She remembered the look on his face when he’d left the pub and something ached in her chest, a pain worse than Finn’s hand squeezing her arm. Worse than whatever guilt she felt at leaving the little birthday celebration Finn had cobbled together for the two of them.

“Just leave it, Clara,” Michael said as he sipped from the glass of mild, calm as ever as he remained reclined in his chair.

Clara ignored the guidance as she wrenched her arm free from Finn’s grasp, pulling her coat and then Isiah’s up into her arms as she passed his empty chair. 

His chair in the snug had been empty most of the night as he sat with Lisette and her friends on the other side of the pub. Lisette didn’t like being tucked away in a private room. She liked to see what was going on, liked to watch the dancing even if she didn’t ever want to dance herself, not like her sister who had Finn’s two left feet out on the dance floor most evenings. 

Clara had sometimes wondered if the two of them ought to have switched dates when that bit of knowledge became known, but Clara had kept her mouth shut. The truth was she actually liked Lisette. Well, Clara liked Lisette better than her younger sister, Ada, anyway. She didn't have any interest in setting up Ada and Isiah.

She didn't really want Finn continuing his dalliance with the girl either, but Clara had a feeling things between Ada and Finn weren’t a love for the ages anyhow. How could they be with the girl sharing a name with their older sister? Clara wasn't sure how the name alone didn't weird him out...kissing someone with the same name as their Ada? And surely, the girl wasn't marriage material. There was only room enough in the world for one Ada Shelby.

But Clara kept those thoughts all to herself. Things would work themselves out before it got that far, Clara was certain.

Not that it mattered anyway, because Clara could tell from the beginning that Isiah liked Lisette better, too, something Clara understood, even if she wished she didn’t. Lisette was smart and beautiful and different from the girls who usually flocked to the boys. She was a bit older, for one. A bit more mature. And if it wasn’t for the fact that Clara made a conscious decision of keeping a bit of distance between herself and whoever any of the boys were dating, especially in the beginning stages, she might have thought of her as the type of person she could be friends with. 

Even if it was clear that Lisette was the type of girl who was used to getting precisely what she wanted all the time. Some people might say Clara was the same—her family frequently alluded to the fact that she was spoiled in that way, but Clara knew how to negotiate. She knew how to read people, how to accommodate others. 

From what she’d seen, Lisette didn’t want to do that even if she knew how. 

Clara eyed the booth on the other side of the pub holding the group—Lisette, Ada, and a gaggle of their friends whose names Clara didn’t know—as she pushed through the crowds near the bar. It was clear they were all consoling Lisette in the wake of her breakup even as the rest of the pub had already moved on with their merrymaking, singing along and dancing to the familiar tune being sung from the makeshift stage at the back of the pub. 

Clara had a vision of herself crossing the pub and shooing the lot of them away, calling in her status as a Shelby to bar them from the pub for all eternity, but a bit of cool air blasted through the front door, raising bumps on her arms and her mind remembered where her body was taking her on instinct, trailing in Isiah’s wake though she was already a few minutes behind him by now. 

Clara shivered as she pushed out into the night, a curse slipping through her lips as the door swung shut behind her. She fumbled with the coats in her hand, realizing she should have slipped her own on before coming outside and she worked to slip her arm into it while keeping Isiah’s from touching the muddy ground. 

It wasn’t a particularly long walk to Isiah’s house, but it would feel longer in the cold. Clara had successfully sheathed one arm when she heard her name, the sound of it so quiet and small it nearly hurt to hear, almost as if it wasn’t certain in its conviction. Wasn’t certain in wanting to be known. 

Clara spun on her heel, steeling her face even as she remained tangled up in coats, one arm still bared to the elements. For a moment as she met Isiah’s eye, she wondered which one of them was trying harder to remain neutral, and she studied him as he took a silent drag from his cigarette, his breathing calm and deep, his countenance so unbothered, almost as if he and Lisette hadn’t just broken things off in front of everyone in the Garrison.  

“That for me?” Isiah asked, gesturing toward the overcoat she held carelessly bundled in her arm. 

He didn’t look cold, but Isiah was good at looking like things he wasn’t when he wanted to be—happy, unbothered, not cold. Even if Clara could see through it. 

She stepped forward to hand it over and Isiah easily slipped his arms inside, his cigarette parked between his lips for the duration.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Clara said as she shoved her arm into the jacket and fumbled with the buttons, securing them all the way to the top. 

Isiah shrugged and cleared the ash from the end of his cigarette. The truth was he was fucking freezing. His suit jacket still sat at Lisette’s table and he had realized his stupidity the moment he stepped outside. He had been too stubborn to go back inside, too stubborn even to roll down his shirt sleeves, and he tried to repress the shiver that skittered across his skin now. 

It was then that Clara realized something looked off, that the familiar black overcoat wasn’t sitting on Isiah’s frame quite right, and she disappeared without a word, returning a moment later with the forgotten suit jacket dangling from her fingers. 

Clara hadn’t said a word to the group of girls, simplying leaning around them and retrieving Isiah’s jacket with a tug before walking back out through the door. 

Isiah mumbled his thanks as Clara held the jacket out to him, the pair of them quiet as he stripped out of the overcoat and passed it back to her waiting arms so he could get situated, the burning cigarette parked between his lips once again.

“Where do you want to go?” Clara asked once Isiah pulled the dwindling cigarette away from his mouth. 

Isiah shook his head, clearing the ash. “It’s alright. You go back in.” 

They were meant to be celebrating Finn and Clara’s impending birthdays, just a few days out. It had been Finn’s idea to celebrate both the weekend before and after, and he’d convinced Clara, but she hadn’t really cared. She was much more looking forward to celebrating with her family. Much more looking forward to Ada and Karl coming in for a short visit. 

But this had been what Finn wanted, so she obliged. 

“I’m not going back in without you,” she said. “And I’m not standing out here all night either,” she continued, her words picking up speed and force and a certain sharpness that was so familiar to Isiah it was nearly a comfort, a fair bit better than him listening to the annoying voice inside his head. “And don’t tell me you want to be alone either because I know—”

“I don’t,” Isiah answered, and Clara’s face softened, the corners of her mouth falling a bit.

“I’m sorry, Is,” she said after swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. 

Isiah nodded. He knew she meant it, though he wasn’t sure what she was sorry about. The break up or the way it had happened or all of it or something else entirely. Clara could be odd like that, thinking about things that weren’t even on Isiah’s radar in a particular situation, but the intricacies of it didn’t matter, just that he knew it was sincere, could feel her concern more than he’d felt anything else lately, and it warmed him. 

Isiah didn’t even know what he felt about the break up. Some part of him was numb, barely feeling it, even though they’d made a bit of a scene doing it in public like that. Isiah could have made it an even bigger scene. He could’ve put on an even bigger show, but he had let it be. He knew it wasn’t worth it. What he wanted didn’t matter, not when Finn was still seeing the sister.

“So what do you want to do?” Clara asked, a question Isiah would swear he hadn’t heard in ages. Not a single Blinder cared what he wanted and though his father solicited his opinion often enough, Isiah hadn’t been home for a meal with the man in what felt like ages now, not since he’d been dating Lisette, at least. 

Lisette certainly hadn’t asked his opinions, used as she was to getting what she wanted. Isiah didn’t think it was malicious, just that it hadn’t occurred to her to consider someone else. Isiah had liked her well enough, and the sex had been good enough, that he’d convinced himself to go along with her whims. Some part of him was entranced by her and the ways he was so different from her that he’d been warmed to see her happy, even if it meant losing part of himself in her wants and her needs. 

Clara was patient, remaining quiet as she waited on Isiah’s answer, already reading his desire as he stubbed out his cigarette and pushed off the wall. 

“Let’s walk a bit.” 

Clara waited for him to take the first step, waited for him to determine their course even if some part of her knew where he wanted to go. They were quiet, the pair of them with hands stuffed in their pockets as they walked to the end of Garrison Lane, turning off onto Watery Lane and stopping before number 6. Clara fished her key out of her pocket and handed it off to Isiah as they approached the darkened door. 

Some part of Clara wondered if the key should have been Isiah’s anyway. He certainly spent more time in her childhood home than she did, but he wasn’t family—not blood, at least—and only her and her siblings and her aunt had keys to the family home. 

Isiah passed the key back to her as he pushed open the door, holding it open and allowing Clara to pass over the threshold first. Isiah latched the door behind them before wordlessly moving to the fireplace where he started on getting it lit in the near dark. 

Clara left him alone, navigating the first floor in the dark and returning a few minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from John’s office in the shop. Isiah didn’t look away from the fire as she entered, his arms rested on his knees as he watched the flames. 

Clara set aside the bottle and glasses, retrieving Isiah’s suit jacket and overcoat from where he’d discarded them on the floor and settling them on a hook by the stairs. Clara grabbed the whiskey and glasses as she moved back across the room. She plopped down on the floor beside him and immediately poured out two hefty servings in each of the glasses. Isiah hooked a finger in one glass, quickly pulling it over and knocking back the contents and setting it back down before Clara could even stopper the bottle. 

Clara quickly moved to pour him another shot, but Isiah’s hand caught her wrist, his fingers gentle as he stopped her and guided the bottle from her hand, all the while his eyes remained on the fire, the warmth of it almost too hot on both of their faces. 

Clara took a slow sip of her whiskey, trying not to hiss at the fiery sting in her throat. She’d been sipping mild all night and she wasn’t sure what was causing the sudden heat in her cheeks—the liquor or the flame or the words swirling in her head and her heart. 

“I want to say something, but I don’t want you to get mad.” 

Isiah snorted. “That’s a promising start.” 

Clara sighed on the end of a deep breath, forcing herself to take another sip. She tried to keep the commentary on Isiah’s relationships to herself at this point. They’d had enough tiffs about it, that Clara had learned her opinion wasn’t wanted most times. Her reservations weren’t wanted. And unless Isiah solicited her, she didn’t share. And even then, what she shared was always tempered, restrained just a little. 

Isiah knew as much, but they’d both decided to let it be. It was better than arguing. 

“Well, what is it?” Isiah finally asked. He pulled his gaze away from the fire to look at her, watching for a moment as she focused on swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. Isiah set his hand over the glass, and Clara set the glass aside before shifting her body so she sat facing him, the fire blazing against her back. 

“I just wonder…” she started, reaching out to take his hand, training her eyes on their intertwined fingers. “...I wonder if maybe it’s for the best, Is?” she said. “I know it may not feel that way now, but—”

Isiah was quiet even after Clara stopped herself, wondering if it was her place to say these things, wondering if it wasn’t better to keep these thoughts to herself after all. 

“Go ahead,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s not as if you’d be able to keep whatever it is to yourself anyhow, eh?” 

“I could,” Clara answered, her back straightening and her tone sharpening a bit in a defiance she was nearly powerless to control. “...if you wanted me to. If you didn’t want my…opinion.” 

As hard as it would be for her…especially when it came to Isiah, she could do it if that was what he wanted. If her silence would soothe him more than her words, she’d honor it—for now at least. 

It wouldn’t be too hard and it wasn’t as if her opinion, her guidance, was needed when it came to a subject matter with which Clara was so personally unfamiliar. She was no expert in love or relationships. Her brothers had always been quick to remind her of that fact whenever she’d tried to offer them some sort of guidance in regards to their love lives. 

Isiah stayed quiet, urging her to continue only with his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled his hand away. Clara let both of their hands settle on her lap and Isiah felt the gentle twist of his pinky ring as she twisted it, barely aware of the nervous habit. 

Isiah had been tempted to test out Clara’s assertion, to make her squirm while trying to keep the words on the tip of her tongue, but not only did Isiah not believe in her ability to keep her mouth shut longer than a few minutes, but he found himself almost yearning to hear her thoughts, desperate to know if his best friend would end the sentence the same way he would. 

“I just…” she started, still subtly fidgeting with Isiah’s ring until she realized what she was doing and she let his hand go, allowing him to pull it back to his own lap. “You just haven’t seemed much like yourself. You haven’t seemed very…” Clara sorted through the words, trying to decide what precisely she meant and what she could say that might sting the least. 

She wanted to say that he hadn’t seemed particularly happy, even if that declaration felt heavy in her mouth. She wanted to say that she hadn’t seen his cheeky grin in a while. That she hadn’t heard him laugh or seen him excited. She wanted to say that they hadn’t had a dance in ages. And that she didn’t have a clue what he was reading lately, or if he was reading anything at all. It wasn’t that Isiah had seemed wholly unhappy, exactly. Just that he was a bit muted, like a subdued version of himself. A shadow of the person she knew. Neutral and opinionless and far too timid.

“Happy?” Isiah finally suggested, as if he knew—or hoped—that it was the word on the tip of Clara’s tongue. 

“Well, yeah,” Clara sighed. She knew that relationships required compromise. She knew that people had to be a bit malleable in the process of two people coming together, but something had seemed different this time, almost as if Isiah had let a bit of himself go in order to accommodate everything Lisette was. 

Isiah snorted softly and reached out for Clara’s glass, downing the small bit of whiskey left in her glass. “I wasn’t sure anyone noticed.”

“Of course I noticed.” Clara studied Isiah’s face, frowning at the pain etched there in his features. “I just…I didn’t want to stick my nose in. It wasn’t my place.”

Clara had been told time and time again by those in her life to not worry about this or that…to focus on her own responsibilities…to stay out of business not pertaining to her. It seemed to only bring trouble when she did otherwise.

“Since when do you endeavor to keep your nose out of my business?” he asked. “Seems to me you decided my business was as good as yours way back in 1915.”

Isiah’s lips pulled into something resembling a smile, but Clara could tell he was forcing it. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” 

Isiah shook his head. “Since when does it matter what I want?” 

“It’s always mattered,” Clara answered. “And you shouldn’t have to change yourself or compromise or bend over backwards to get what you want, Is. It should be equal. A partnership” He didn’t say anything, didn’t fight or interrupt, so Clara continued. “Someday, someone is going to come along and she’ll be everything you want and you—just as you are—will be what she wants, and sometimes it will be work and it won’t always be easy, but it’ll be work you want to do. It’ll be work you couldn’t imagine not doing, and when it happens, you’ll understand why it never worked out with anyone else because it’ll just make sense. And it’ll feel different. Natural. Right.” 

Isiah was still quiet, listening to Clara as if she was telling him a story, as if she was telling them both a story that they both hoped wasn’t just a fairy tale.

“And when it happens, you’ll be glad Lisette cut you lose now,” she added. “Even if it feels like shit just now.” 

 Clara took a deep breath, preparing herself for Isiah’s response—that she was naive and silly. That she didn’t know anything of any value when it came to love or life. That she read far too many romance novels. Clara knew all of that wouldn’t be out of line. It was a little true that she didn’t have much firsthand experience and that she had read a lot of books, but Isiah didn’t say any of that. He didn’t say anything, simply turning his gaze back to the fire.  

Clara watched Isiah’s adam’s apple bob, a distinct mist shimmering in his eye which Isiah willed himself to control. He could’ve cried in front of Clara. Isiah knew that, but he didn’t want to, even if the words had resonated enough that something ached deep in his chest. 

Clara could feel it, almost as if the pain echoed in her own heart. As his silence stretched on, Clara found herself testing out the words to apologize in her head. She was preparing herself to say them outloud when Isiah let out a breath and rose from the floor.

Isiah stepped across the room, readying the gramophone. Slow songs weren’t what they usually listened to, but the tune was familiar, with a melody she knew by heart. 

Isiah held a hand down to Clara. “You want to dance?”

“Do you want to?” she countered, looking up at him. 

“I want to dance with you,” he said, grabbing Clara’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Haven’t had a decent dance partner in months.” 

Clara quickly fell into step, letting Isiah lead as they twirled around the room, sidestepping the bottle and glasses they’d left on the floor. Isiah let his instincts take over as his mind worked through Clara’s words once again, part of him hoping beyond hope that they were true. 

That someday someone would come along.

That it would be work, but the work would be worth doing.

That it would be different—natural and right. 

They would be partners. Equals. 

And it would be instinctive. 

As easy as dancing along to a familiar tune.

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[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.

[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!

[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.

[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).

[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!

[mxpseudonym]

Three Musketeers

Pairing: Isiah Jesus x Fem!Reader x Michael Gray

Summary: Isiah makes a saucy proposal, Michael agrees for once, and you can’t help but go along.

Length: 1691 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Dangerous for work, threesome/polyamory, 

A/N: Whoo! This turned out more fun and youthful than I expected, so I hope you crack a smile and get a little flustered upon reading. 

--

"You ever sleep with someone, y/n? You've got the two of us right here." 

It was Isiah's cheekiest proposal to date and the one that started it all. 

You were the secretary taking over for Lizzie now that she was moving to Mr. Shelby's new aboveboard office. Though you were only coming up on a year at the position, your similar age and humor with Michael and Isiah made you the three musketeers. There was hardly a day you weren't all together, trying to experience as much life as one could in the smoke and mud of Birmingham. 

It had been a few months since Isiah rested his elbow on Michael's shoulder and sent you a cheeky grin that didn't fit his inherently salacious ask. Standing in your living room, blood warm from the liquid courage coursing through all of you, you turned your eyes to Michael. You expected surprise, maybe even anger, but instead, you found him waiting expectantly for your answer. 

"If you don't like it, we can stop."

It was a little awkward in the beginning, trying to figure out who was to do what. Still, you found yourself enjoying it that time and every time after. Now it was more likely than not that whenever the boys walked you home from work or the Garrison, they'd stay a while. Today was no different. 

"Your eyes get bigger when you drink. Did you know that, y/n? It's pretty. You're pretty," Isiah smiled sloppily at you. Your cheeks, already warm from the rum, turned even hotter as he kissed down your neck. 

"You don't have to sweet-talk me; I'm already here," you said with a laugh. 

Isiah pulled down your dress, letting it fall to expose your delicate underthings. He kissed down your neck, then buried his face into your shoulder as he pulled you closer into a hug.

"Y/n, don't throw away my compliments. It makes me upset," he murmured.

"This is what happens when you two start drinking rum. He goes all soft," Michael accused as he walked into the bedroom in only his boxers. 

"I do enjoy it, so it's worth the risk," you mused. Isiah mumbles something unintelligible before lowering to his knees in front of you. 

"I'm just calling it as I see it. You're incredibly sexy, y/n. I haven't to hold myself back in the office when you come in looking pretty like you do."

Isiah spoke between kisses planted on your cotton panties that he was eager to get rid of. Michael patted Isiah's head before moving behind you. 

"He's right about your eyes," Michael spoke in your ear while dipping his fingers between your bra strap and the sensitive skin beneath. "Can we take this off?" 

You nodded once, already starting to feel warmth pool in your lower belly as your garter straps were released and your bottoms were also being pulled off. You gasped as Isiah finally reached you, placing feather-light kisses up and down your slit. 

It was Michael's turn to start on your neck. Your head dropped back onto his shoulder when his hands found your breasts. He felt them in his palms, kneading them until you were sighing and aching for ample attention to your sensitive nipples. You leaned against Michael more when he suggested Isiah put your leg over his shoulder. 

"Oh god, this- ah!" A bite to your inner thigh jolted you. You looked down with wide eyes, only to see Isiah's mischievous ones. 

"Oi, watch it," Michael warned, guessing what happened. From his own experiences, Isiah could get very into biting depending on which type of liquor he drank. 

"It's okay," you stopped them. The heat rose to your face as a smile rose to Isiah's.

"You like that?" He asked, doing it again and watching your bottom lip gets pulled between your teeth. "Atta girl. She likes it, Mikey, keep going."

"Heathens, the lot of you," Michael muttered, earning a chuckle from you both. Though, as things progressed, he quickly joined you. Your nipples were pinched and rolled harder than before, paired with Isiah's greedy laps at your leaking pussy made you shiver. A stiffened tongue and bite to the neck was enough to send you over and leave you squirming against the two. 

"Absolutely beautiful, love," Michael kissed your temple. 

"To the bed?" Isiah asked though it was more of a direction. If you had to describe them, you could say Isiah pointed, and Michael drove. Isiah always made the first move, and Michael was there to support. Isiah kissed you first, and Michael played with the hem of your skirt. Isiah asked what you liked, and Michael remembered to make it happen later. Now, Isiah mentioned the bed, but Michael was the one moving you to it. Not that you minded any of this in the slightest. Ever since fully grasping that you could, in fact, orgasm several times, it had become a matter of continuing to please you.  

You laid back and watched the two men undress. They were so different even in their bodies. And yet, they were perfect when they moved together. Michael pulls Isiah to him, but it's Isiah who cups the shorter man's face and says something about you tasting good before kissing him.

It no longer surprised you to see them lean into each other. Your first night together, there seemed to be a few almost kisses, but Isiah never pursued it. You weren't a fool; you knew there was likely something between them before you came along. So, in your second encounter, you kissed Michael then looked to Isiah. 

"I know you're dying to get a taste, aren't you?" 

Now there was no stopping them. While Michael kissed you neatly and with purpose as if to send a message depending on the mood, Isiah chose enthusiasm over form. Sometimes your teeth would knock together if you weren't careful. Both made you weak in the knees. 

Together, however, they left behind any need to treat their lover delicately and moved on to devouring each other. Just before you could feel left out, Michael reached out to you blindly, leaning away from the kiss. 

"We have to let her decide who she wants this time," Michael reminded his lovers of the rules. 

There was no guarantee of who got what job. Isiah could have you seeing stars several times over if he didn't accidentally overstimulate you and end things for the night. Michael was exceptionally good at drawing out your pleasure in a way that could leave you satisfied, but ultimately nowhere near a release. It was hard to compare and say who was better, so you did the work of not overthinking and compromising. Michael smirked somewhat smugly as he went to grab a condom from your bedside table, while Isiah sighed. He'd be more upset if there were any losers in this situation.

Back on the bed, you reveled in all of the attention they gave you. You could tell whose touch was whose even when they moved in tandem. Isiah moved without any hesitation- full of enthusiasm and impulse. Michael is more calculated and deliberate, thoughtful in everything he did. With your eyes closed, you can tell it's Michael's fingers brushing over your lips and kiss your jaw, and Isiah placing wet kisses down your body, already on your shoulders. Your wrists were moved above your head, both held in one large hand, and two others pull your legs apart. 

"Don't tease," you warned as Michael moved between your legs. 

"How could I when you're this wet?" 

Still, he ran his head over you until you were whimpering before grabbing the base of his cock and sinking into you. Isiah laid next to you, propped up on one arm and stroking himself with his other hand. He leaned over you, alternating between covering your skin with wet kisses and saying the naughtiest things in your ear. 

You brought your hands up to squeeze your breasts on his command, and Michael groaned. They'd left the pub just for this, and it showed in the way he wrapped your legs around him. He pushed into you deeper, hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch.

"Michael, p-please," 

"Look at you all worked up, y/n," Isiah groaned in your ear. Knowing they were both enjoying themselves made everything more erotic. "Why don't you ask Mikey for more, love?"

"M-Micheal, Michael more." 

You were so close already, and Michael's grip on your waist tightened as his rhythm picking up brought you to the edge. Isiah kissed your cheek, then your jaw while your moans grew louder. He moved his hand from his own dripping cock to flatten on your stomach, sliding down until he could circle your clit. 

"Isiah," you said his name softly and turned your head to kiss him. His tongue slid against yours for a moment before he moved to kiss your cheek again. 

"Hm? Does it feel good? Is he stretching you out, darling? I love it when he does that," 

"Fuck!" 

Michael, usually the quiet one, swore at Isiah's words and broke his rhythm to slam into you. Isiah only slightly held back his laugh at that reaction. Micheal filling you to the hilt with a newfound ferocity paired with Isiah's encouragement left you squirming and coming hard around Michael's cock. Your clenching left him swearing again as he finished in you. Michael stroked your thighs with his eyes closed as you both caught your breath. 

"You're gonna to pay for that," Michael finally said, looking to Isiah, who was petting your hair. 

"You're in trouble," you teased Isiah. Michael slid out of you, doing the responsible thing of tossing away the used condom. 

"I'll pay in full, but you'll have to work for it, Peaky boy."

Isiah rolled to his back and motioned to his erection, desperately in need of attention. You crawled forward and took it in your hand, giving it a generous lick. 

"Don't worry, Mikey, I'll help." 

Michael shook his head at his two favorite people, but climbed on the bed anyway. His hand wrapped around yours, helping you pump as he licked his lips. 

"Heathens, all of us." 

[peakascum]

Somebody’s Baby

Shelby Sister & Fluff.

Y/N opened the door and quietly stepped inside by walking on her toes. She basked in the warmth of the house as she locked the old, rusty door and set her purse on the hook, making sure to count the shoes at the entrance. It was a habit she picked out from a young age, to count her sibling’s shoes when she got home. She can't recall when exactly she picked out the habit but it was a way to make sure that each and everyone of them were safe in their home, even as adults. 

As she finished counting the shoes she finally let out a content breath. Her eyes closed as she leaned into the wall and a smile slapped itself across her face.

Thomas Shelby was still awake when he heard the front door shut. It was late but the tapping sound on his newly torn window couldn't let him sleep. The man slept through bullet showers in France but lost sleep over the sounds his windows made. Even so, his sister was out and he liked to remain alert just to be sure she got home safely. A sigh escaped him as he watched her count the shoes that littered the entrance, turning into an amused smirk. She turned right back around, leaned with her head against the wall and welcomed in a smile that soon turned into a childish giggle. She quickly placed her fingers on her lips, delicately brushing over them, something truly out of a scene from those romantic films.

“I take it you're smitten over him?” Tommy laughed, watching her jump slightly startled. “When have you ever said the word smitten?” You said, head remaining pressed against the wall. “Since Ada dragged me to see that bloody awful film.” You both laughed quietly at that. She had the worst taste in pictures. 

“Oh I see,” she said pushing herself off the wall, “and here I was wondering what had you tipping your cap at women on the streets.” He laughed at that, “No, no. I’ve always done that, Y/N-“ her laugh cut him off, “Yes, of course! Ever the gentleman, Mr. Shelby.” She bowed her head in mockery and his eyes twinkled at her.

She was the youngest Shelby and by far the most loved.

She sat down as he poured her some whisky, “Are you gonna tell me his name?” She shook her head and stared at the drink intently. “You'll just scare him away,” she looked up at his big eyes, so much like their mother’s. 

“You know I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I know, I just-” she sighed and rested her head on her free hand, “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.” Tommy stared at her hoping that his eyes communicated all the things he wanted her to know. “A name is not needed. A name’s a name.” She referred to her own, of course. Whenever anyone heard the Shelby name they immediately assumed the worst. Said her brothers were scum, her father a deadbeat, and all just tooth, rotting criminals. If they could only see through her eyes how unbelievably wrong they were. No matter the amount of dirt they dragged in the house, or the amount of times they trotted through the door soaked in blood, Y/N saw her brothers as good people trying to deal the cards they were given. Always turning a blind eye to every ilegal bidding, but never entirely naïve of their ways.

Tommy worried for his sister and often joked that she had to have been raised by another family. She loved to read and was practically self taught after befriending the book store owner. She got lost in the yellowing pages of books she found and then rambled on for days about the character’s antics. Unfortunately, this made her an easy target at school. They mocked and kicked her, leaving the young girl friendless and lonely, so she befriended the adults. An “old soul” Polly had called her. So when he heard of her date the evening he promised to not get in the way, just content in seeing his baby sister building a life for herself. 

“Is he at least a good man?” He asked.

“He treats me well.” She smiled.

He huffed, “Well is not good enough.” Her eyes crinkled at her brother and tilted her head to the side, “He respects me and buys me flowers. Those pretty ones I like from the market.” Her tired eyes twinkled for the first time in her life making her look younger, a look Tommy wished he could see more. 

Arthur came trodding down the stairs in a tired manner, arms swinging to his sides, only to stop at the bottom and stare at his two siblings. “Oi!” He raised both arms in disbelief, “nobody tells me fuckin’ anything, eh?” They chuckled at him. Y/N shushed him and extended her hand for him to take. “Oh hush Arthur, this was improvised.”

“Yeah I bet, improvised, yeah.” He kissed the top of her head and sat down beside her as Tommy poured him a glass. “You had a date tonight, didn’t ya’?” She nodded. 

“Apparently he treats her well and buys her flowers.” Tommy said in sarcastic tone making Arthur raise his brows. “Flowers, eh? He buys ya’ flowers.” 

“He does and he’s good and that’s all you need to know.” She said definitively making him chuckle.

“You know I bought flowers for this girl once,” he started, making his sister face him completely, “she was a pretty, little thing so I bought her flowers.” Tommy let out a laugh, “Oh fuck I remember this.”

“Anyway, I’m walking over to her house, really excited and all cause y’know how could she not like flowers? I tripped on the fuckin’ sidewalk, landed on horse shit, scraped my bloody, fuckin’ knees,” she let out a squeal at her brother’s misery, “The flowers were already battered and ruined, but I pushed through.” He took a long pause and she stared at him, gesturing with her hands for him to continue the story. “And well that’s that. Turns out she was allergic to them flowers. Head grew two sizes and I had to pay for the hospital bill. Her mum still flips me off every time she sees me.” Tommy and Y/N laughed. He had the worst fucking luck. 

He chuckled at her laughter, always said it was the most joyous thing he’d ever heard. Arthur also had immense respect for her and often thought that he was forever indebted to her.

He would never forget one specific incident, which he never brings up, but it still plagues him every time he sees her. One night after a couple of rounds at the Garrison, Arthur stumbled into the house knocking everything in his path. He entered the living room and quickly plopped down on the couch beside her sulking figure. He rambled on drunkenly about a woman he had met and how Tommy had managed to seduce her. He rambled as his little sister took him to the bath and helped him in his drunken state. She fed him, stroked his hair, and tucked him in as if he were a kid. But Arthur failed to see the look in her eyes, the tears that raised down her youthful cheeks, and the way her hands trembled as she laced her fingers through his hair. He failed to notice the red sheets and how she could barely walk while dragging him from room to room. He failed to notice the way she selflessly helped him after having been raped on the alley just beside their house. As quickly as the thought came into his mind it went, leaving a ghostly smile on his rugged face.

And in came Finn through the door with an excited smile seeing his siblings at the table. “Oh! And where have you been?” She asked as he kissed her cheek and taking the whisky from her hands. “Been around. Might have dropped by the pictures.” He had a tantalising smile on his face as his sister widened her eyes at him. “Might have eavesdropped on your date.”

“Okay, okay! Spill Finn-boy.” Arthur said excitedly as her gathered more glasses to fill with whisky. 

“Finn stop! You did not-“

“I did too. Interesting choice my dear sister.” She narrowed your eyes at him as the newly poured whisky touched her tongue. “Not as interesting as your choice in ladies Finn. Multiple, might I add.”

The room roared in every direction, a symphony of Shelbys asking questions and laughing. Something so rarely seen because, really, it was only reserved for late nights like these. And their smiles all reserved for you and you only. Finn was the only one who truly knew where his sister was and with whom. After all, he was good friends with he man who dared to ask her out.

Little did her eldest brothers know but just as little Y/N Shelby closed the door and leaned against the wall, Isiah Jesus had done just the same as he watched her enter the Shelby household. His head had rested against the door, cheeks flushed and eyes full of life. He had adored the girl ever since he could remember, becoming completely helpless at the sight of her youthful cheeks and kind eyes. 

As the teasing conversation continued, Polly peaked her head through the kitchen door. She had been awoken by laughter, which was a relief to the countless nights she had woken to the sounds of bullets and screams. Her tired eyes crinkled at the four siblings. Hand making its way towards her heart and sighing a little prayer up to John and their late mother. Oh, if they could only witness this precious moment. If they could only see how protected and loved the youngest one was. 

[blindersbeach]

dad’s plan pt. 2

wc: 943 blurb: how the night went with isaiah Requested: part 2 of how their night went?? that would be great! - @finnbloodyshelby

a/n: not too proud of this, but i wanted to get it up. if anyone has requests or just want a specific blinders imagine send them over. i have a few ideas down, but don’t like them as much rn 

pt. 1

“Don’t worry, y/n. I am just here because Arthur rang me and just wanted you have a fun night. So, let’s make the fookers jealous and confused.” He put his hand on yours and you both started to laugh. Isaiah looked over his shoulder and saw Abby gawking at you and him. He wanted to burst out laughing, but instead closed the space in between the both of you. Your eyes widened at what he said.

“No, we can’t do that. I won’t.” You said refusing what Isaiah suggested. He thought it would be a great idea to go over to Abby and her date.

“Buttercup, c’mon. It’ll be funny.” Everyone called you ‘Buttercup’, your dad started it and everyone close to you started to call you by it, too. You huffed and then got up. Isaiah started to giggle, which made you almost start laughing. You started to walk over to their table, but Isaiah grabbed your hand and pulled you back at his pace. Even though Isaiah and you were just friends, or so you thought, it made you blush holding his hand.

“Abby! Funny seeing you and… him here.” Isaiah said casually picking up the conversation, hand still intertwined. Abby was still in shock and her date seemed just as appalled. “Well we were on our way out, we just wanted to stop over to say hello.” Isaiah continued and waved. He dragged you out of the restaurant leaving you with an empty stomach.

“Izzy, I haven’t eaten and I’m starving! Where are we going?”

“Dancing, you need to loosen up! Then maybe the cinema, there is food there.”

After Isaiah dragging you down seven blocks, you reached the dance hall. It was decorated with red and pink streamers. Hand painted hearts were sporadically placed on the pillars and walls. The band was on the stage. There was almost every instrument imaginable being played. The sound was beautiful almost causing you to instantly do the Charleston or grab Isaiah and dance the foxtrot. You were glad that the dance hall was quite large because there were many couples, all doing different things. You never imagined to set foot in a dance hall, as much as you loved dancing, and definitely not with Isaiah. In fact, you had never actually seen Isaiah dance or even tap his foot to music. This was going to be interesting. You looked over to Isaiah and he appeared nervous. Placing an arm on his shoulder and a hand in his, he placed his other on your waist beginning to softly sway to the music. You could feel his shoulders relax and untense.

“Is that a lily?” You hadn’t notice that it had been attached to his lapel the whole evening.

“Yes, it is. There should be some when you get home too. I gave them to Arthur.”

“I could kiss you right now. You are the sweetest, kindest person to me.” It was true. You hadn’t realized how badly you wanted to kiss his lips. You started to think that there was something in the air. Isaiah slowly tilted his head down and parted his lips. He waited for you to accept his invitation and you slowly brought your lips to his. They brushed against each other causing both of you to want more. Your lips tingled with joy.

Arthur and Linda peered through the kitchen window looking at Isaiah and you. They were getting ready for bed when they heard your laugh from outside. You were facing each other holding hands. Isaiah was playing with them while looking shyly down. Arthur put his ear to the window trying to make out the words, but they were so soft you had to be standing right behind them. Linda wrapped her robe around her tighter. She put a hand on his shoulder. As much as she wanted to know how your date went and see how much their matchmaking was successful, she wanted to give you privacy.

“Arthur, let’s give them their priv–” Linda started, but Arthur cut her off.

“They kissed! Oh, Linda we are the best matchmakers.” Arthur stood with a grin on his face. Linda began to chuckle. “He better not hurt my little girl or less I’ll cut him a new one.”

“Let’s get to bed before they catch us.”

He closed the curtain and kissed his wife. Arthur was very proud of himself. They were heading to their bedroom, when they heard the door open. They scurried as fast as possible to their room giggling like teenagers.

“Thank you for the lovely evening.” Isaiah said at the doorstep. He brought a hand to your cheek pulling your lips closer to his. Once again, your lips brushed against his again. Both of you didn’t want to stop, but knew that you could continue this tomorrow. Closing the door behind you, you leaned against it with your heart racing and your smile growing.

Lilies were sitting on your bed wrapped in brown paper tied with twine, just like Isaiah said. There was a note addressed to you. You rushed to your bed indulging in the fresh scent. Opening the note, it said:

Buttercup,

I don’t know how the night went, but I hope it went well. I am sorry if I was a prick or made a fool out of myself. I really wanted it to be perfect for you. Not because your father would most likely kill me if something happened, but I like you. A lot. - Izzy

You held the note to your heart. You wouldn’t going to sleep crying like you had the night before, but dreaming of Isaiah.

[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 ✵

[pandoraslove]

Chocolate Cures

you were the quietest out of all your siblings, always observing everyone and everything around you. You were also the hardest one to provoke, both a blessing and a curse. a blessing for Polly who had one less person to worry about getting into fights everyday and a curse for you since your brothers liked to poke and prod at you until you exploded. They’d succeeded only a few times. John and Arthur being the culprits nearly every time. Despite being the youngest and a girl, you fought well enough that you left a tiny mark at least once. They’d both gotten back on your good graces by giving you chocolate. 

There’s only been two instances where you’ve lost your temper with someone who wasn’t family. Two years ago with a dumb blonde bimbo who wouldn’t leave Finn alone and started talking about you and spreading rumors, and Now. In this moment, in the Garrison. You were on the verge of exploding and everyone could tell. 

It was a slow day, the shop was pretty empty with the exception of you, your brothers, your aunt and sister, and a few of the blinders. Isiah, Finn Best friend, brought a girl with him. Now, that’s not what bothered you. You could care less who he brought around, what bothered you was who this girl was. The dumb blonde bimbo from two years ago was now a brunette. She’s still a dumb bimbo though. That hasn’t changed. 

Today was hard enough for you since, you’d gotten into an argument with Thomas about me arguing with the teachers at school- it’s a long story. But the fact was that you’d started the day off on the wrong foot. after your argument with Tommy, you’d gone up to your room and dropped your ceramic jewelry holder and it completely shattered. it was one that you’d gotten from a market years ago and very much liked. And then to make matters worse the floor was still wet from the shower you’d taken earlier leading you to slip and fall onto a large shard of the broken jewelry holder. the piece went into your lower thigh, Ada helped you close it up and wrap the wound but you were still reminded of it nearly every step you took. The odds were just against you today. 

It was a little after your usual lunch time, so now you were hungry, annoyed, hurting, and being tempted all at once. The bimbo kept bringing up old fake rumors she thought I didn’t know she started. 

“Is it true that you were insane which is why you stopped going to school?” She asks. 

“no, I just switched schools.” 

“What about that rumor that said you slept with almost every guy in our class?” 

“They were all imbeciles why would I want to get with them?” 

“Well I’m sure you helping your family murder people is true.” you roll your eyes and clench your fist behind your back, a failed attempt at calming yourself. 

“I mean those rumors about you killing your father are pretty convincing.” She says softly only loud enough that Finn and I hear. “Did you murder your mother too? I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up murdering your entire family, your the most psychotic of them all, Isn’t that right, Crazy y/n?” the nickname was what did it for you. 

You got up at the same time she did, she was too slow to avoid you grabbing her throat. “say again, Princess?” 

“Let go of me.” 

“Not so bold now, are we?” I chastise. 

“Y/n.” Thomas says from behind me. 

“Listen very carefully, keep trying me and you end up just like your uncle, dead in an alley. I wonder who the person behind his murder was. Don’t you, bimbo?” You whispered every word into her ear so only she could hear. 

“Y/n, let go of her.” Arthur said from behind you.

Your hand remained around her throat, but you pulled away from her ear. there were tears in her eyes and true fear, her face had gone pale.  

“You’re only showing that you really are insane, you bitch.” She breathes out. you laugh at her feeble attempt to hurt you. 

“Of course they’re true, I’m a Shelby. You have three seconds to leave.” You let her go and turn your back. You felt her hand on your shoulder and back handed her. you knew what she was going to do. She wanted to prove something. You grabbed her head and brought it down to your knee causing her to fall to the ground. 

“Get her the fuck out of my sight.” some of the blinders help her up and lead her out. you sit back down next to Finn. 

“That wasn’t very nice, Y/n.” John says trying to annoy you. 

“John. You’re next.” You glare at him. 

“Will chocolate make you feel better?” He says pulling out a small bar from his jacket pocket. You let out a sigh and take it from him. 

“feel better now?” Arthur asks. 

“Yes, a lot.” 

“Why were you so moody anyways?” John asks. 

“Ask your brother.”

“Finn? What did you do?” Arthur asks, narrowing his eyes. Finn puts his hands up in surrender.

“Not that one.” 

“Thomas?” John asks. 

“Bingo.” 

“Thomas. What did you do?” Ada asks. 

“Nothing.” He says reading his newspaper and drinking his stupid whiskey.

“He woke me up at the ass crack of dawn and started an argument because I started an argument with a teacher about him grading my test wrong. Three fucking week ago!” you say glaring at Thomas, who was staring at you. John, Arthur, and Finn all start laughing while Ada and Polly shake their heads in amusement. 

“It was six a.m.” Thomas justifies. 

“I. Don’t. Care. IT’S A SATURDAY.” 

“Remind me never to wake her up early on the weekend.” Arthur says. 

“If I get you more chocolate, will you forgive me?” Thomas asks. 

“Maybe.” He sighs and walks out of the Garrison for chocolate. Ada and Polly laugh at the fact that you have your older brother wrapped around your finger.

A few minutes later he walks in with a bag filled with chocolates. 

[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]

Reblog if you write reader inserts for peaky blinders and have been shadowbanned this year for no apparent reason

[theshelbyclan]

can i pls request (49 - taking the other’s hand to look for injuries) with isaiah pls? ❤️

“Where the fuck is he...” you muttered to yourself, as you chewed on a nail already worn down to the skin.

You’d spend the better part of the evening pacing around your little room, waiting for Isaiah to come home to you. He said he’d just be out for a little while, going for a drink with the boys he’d said, but still there was no sign of him.

For the umpteenth time, you walked over to the window and peered into the streets. The room you rented wasn’t much, it was small and cold, mould was creeping up the walls and the hallway permanently smelled of urine, but it did afford you a good view into the lane. But amongst all the people out and about on the streets, no Isaiah.

You glanced at the clock on the one cupboard you owned: it was almost two in the morning now. Turning your head again, you felt the familiar frown of worry etching its way onto your forehead again.

Isaiah often told you, “You worry too much, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, alright? Let me do the worrying.” Only, he never seemed to worry about anything. He was the most carefree person you knew, even though he had a mountain of cares and worries to burden him. You loved that about him.

“Five more minutes,” you told yourself and in silence you started counting down the seconds. Of course, you knew what you’d signed up for, taking up with a Blinder. He often stayed out late and you’d taught yourself to stop waiting up for him and go to sleep. But tonight, he’d said he’d be home early, and Isaiah always kept his promises.

You looked at the clock again and decided. Grabbing your Sunday coat, you opened the door to go in search of your man. But as soon as you threw the door open, you were staring at Isaiah’s face.

You blinked a few times in shock. He burst out laughing. You wanted to scold and hit him, but instead you just flung your arms around him as relief washed over you. “Thank God you’re okay...”

“Wow, what’s all this?” he asked gently, returning the hug. You could hear the smile in his voice, so obviously he wasn’t hurt. Soothingly, he comforted, “Let’s go inside, babe, I’ll make you some tea.” And he lifted you clean off the ground and carried you back into the dingy little room that you called home.

As he dropped you down onto the bed, he quickly turned around and grabbed the bottle of whiskey you kept for special occasions. He poured you some and you took it gratefully. Quickly swallowing the golden liquid, you suddenly slapped Isaiah on the chest, hurt and anger written all over your face, “What were you thinking? Scaring me like that!”

“Hey!” he called out, “I just went out for a drink, like we always do!”

“You said you’d be home early!”

Isaiah took a look at the clock and ran a hand through his hair, realising what had gotten you so upset, “Ah fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You glared sternly at him and demanded an answer, “What happened?”

“Nothing, babes!” he put on his most charming smile, “You worry too much. Look, I got you something.” He turned around and was obviously trying to avoid any more questions, but you decided to just let that slide. Then he produced a small bouquet of flowers and with the biggest smile on his face, he held it out to you. You never could refuse that smile.

“What’s this?” you grumbled, but you felt the corners of your mouth being pulled upwards involuntarily.

“Pretty flowers for my pretty girl!” he beamed, “Dad always says ‘never come home empty handed to a woman scorned’.”

You took the flowers and allowed yourself a small smirk, “Your dad knows what he’s talking about... oh, hey! But that means you did realise you were late!”

“Uhh...” he stumbled, “Might’ve realised, yeah... but it’s all good, love! Nothing for you to worry about!”

“Hmm...” you muttered, but looking at the gorgeous flowers, you felt your anger ebbing away. That is, until you noticed the hand with which he’d given the flowers to you. Quickly, you took hold of it, “What happened here?”

You turned over his palm for inspection and scrutinised his bruised knuckles. The famous frown returned onto your features and it wasn’t a question: “You got into a fight.”

“Hardly, babes.”

Sighing, you got up and started preparing a wet cloth and some ointment. “Let me see the other one,” you demanded and Isaiah knew better than to protest. His other hand had a nasty cut all over the palm.

“Some bastard pulled a knife on me,” he explained, wincing a little as you cleaned it, “Tried to catch it as he aimed it at my face.”

“You tried to grab a knife with your bare hands?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” he joked cheekily, “To save this pretty face.”

You planted a kiss onto his cheek and repeated sarcastically, “To save this pretty face.”

Isaiah looked up at you and saw the worry written all over your face, so he suddenly pulled you onto his lap and a small squeal escaped your lips. “Sweetheart,” he breathed, “Stop. I’m alright.”

“Any more bruises?” you asked again, leaning into him. It was strange: you were the kind of person who always worried about the men around you. Maybe this was what happens when you grow up without a mum and a lot of brothers, but the way you showed your love, it was by taking care of the people you loved. Still, Isaiah always managed to bring out the lighter side of you.

“Nope!” he replied cheerfully, “In perfect condition, me. Unless you want to check the rest of me?”

“Flirt,” you nudged him playfully.

“How about I show you some of my good health, eh?”

You giggled a little and blushed.

But then he angled your chin towards him with two fingers and was suddenly serious, “Stop worrying, sweetheart. I’m your man, aren’t I? And you’re my girl: let me take care of you.”

You nodded slowly and dived deep into his endless eyes, blissful oblivion taking over. And finally, you relaxed in his arms.