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little-diable · 6 months

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New Year's Eve with a Stranger - Modern!Tommy Shelby (smut)

So, this is a bit of a self sufficient fic, since I am spending NYE alone in one of my fave countries, I simply had to write this. Nevertheless, please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves and a happy new year! xxx

Summary: The reader planned to spend NYE on her own in another country, but when she crosses paths with a handsome stranger she can't help but give into the way she feels towards him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, age gap, choking, soft dom!Tommy, but mainly lots of fluff

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (2.8k words)

picture credit to So It Goes Magazine

She kept her eyes focused on the big window, sipping on her hot drink, barely sparing her surroundings any attention. It was still early in the morning, allowing (y/n) to watch the sun rise above the snow covered mountains, making a smile tug on her lips at the beautiful sight.

Yesterday she had found her way to this hotel, checking in with anticipation thumping through her veins, excited for a few days on her own, solo travelling a country she had always loved. And now, as she was eating breakfast in a quiet, cosy room, she felt all too comfortable, knowing that there were no meetings she’d have to attend, nothing but the plans she had made for herself.

“Is this seat taken?” A gruff voice ripped her out of her thoughts, forcing (y/n)’s eyes away from the big windows, focusing on the features of a handsome man. With a soft smile tugging on her lips, she murmured a quiet “No”, watching him sit down. “I hope you don’t mind the disturbance, but I didn’t want to miss out on this view.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I totally get it, it’s breathtaking.” She allowed herself to study the man for a few seconds as she took another sip. His piercingly bright eyes were hidden behind a pair of round glasses, his salt and pepper hair was slightly slicked to one side, exposing his side cut to her curious eyes. He was at least ten years older than her, but she couldn’t help but let her gaze flicker down to his hand, checking for a wedding ring, unable to find one.

“Have you been staying here for longer? I haven’t seen you at breakfast before.” (Y/n) tried to pinpoint his accent, wondering where he was from, and why he had found his way to this very place.

“No, I arrived yesterday. What about you, how long have you been staying here?” The man took a sip of his coffee, piercing eyes momentarily finding hers. A shudder ran down (y/n)’s spine at the intense gaze, wondering if he picked up on the attraction she oh so clearly felt for him, drawn closer without knowing a thing about the man.

“I come here every year, I enjoy the quietness this place offers. Is it your first time here?” An unfamiliar warmth flooded through her at the interest he seemed to find in their interaction, not used to being treated this kindly by a stranger.

“It is, but I am already in love with this place. Are there any things you’d recommend doing around here?” He pondered over her question for a few seconds, gaze focused on the pink and orange sky, painting a picture so beautiful (y/n) had to fight against the need to take a picture of it, holding onto the need to enjoy moments rather than pictures she took in these moments.

“Well, it depends on what you’re looking for, there are some museums you should visit, a few rather hidden book stores you’ll find in some alleys. If you want to, I can take you to some of my favourite ones.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop a surprised expression from tugging on her features, not expecting him to offer some of his time to her.

“I’d love that.”

……

Over the past hours (y/n) had learned that the handsome stranger is called Tommy, and that he lived in Birmingham, a city she had always wanted to visit. He had taken her to the history museum in the morning, followed by some coffee in a small store he seemed to frequent whenever he came to visit this town, already friends with the owner of the store.

He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, and yet he had won (y/n) over within the first few moments of meeting him. The way Tommy treated her was so unfamiliar to her, she wondered if he was real, filled with kindness, respect, and something glimmering in his eyes that filled her with excitement.

“Didn’t take you for a Dante fan, but I have to say, it fits.” Her whispers left Tommy laughing, thumping through the old copy of Dante’s Inferno he was currently holding in the hands (y/n) found herself staring at way too often. Even though (y/n) tried to focus on the endless rows of old books, her eyes were drawn back to Tommy’s frame at any given chance.

She tried to curse herself for being that interested in a stranger, and yet Tommy didn’t feel like a stranger, he had something familiar to him, something that left her wondering if they had crossed paths in another life. Whatever it was that left her feeling like that, (y/n) didn’t ever want to get rid of this feeling, clinging to it like it was her life vest, protecting her from drowning in uneasy waters she had been stuck in for the past weeks.

“Don’t tell this to anybody, but I can recite most parts of it by heart.” (Y/n) shook her head with a grin tugging on her lips, arms slowly crossing in front of her chest.

“Prove it.” A challenging look was thrown Tommy’s way, watching the man’s tongue kiss his teeth as he tried to stop a smirk from widening on his lips. He turned towards (y/n), leaning against the bookshelf with his hand still holding onto the old copy.

“Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say, what was this forest savage, rough, and stern, which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, speak will I of the other things I saw there.” With another laugh bubbling out of (y/n), Tommy stopped reciting, letting go of a laugh himself.

“I have to say, I’m impressed. Do you have any other talents I should know of?” He took a step closer, almost touching her, eyes not daring to break contact with hers once. Both were clearly aware of the buzzing atmosphere that engulfed them, wrapping itself around them.

“Many, but I’d rather you find out about them yourself instead of telling you about them.”

……

The next morning (y/n) found herself in the same spot she had sat in the day before, once again watching the sun rise as she ate breakfast. This time Tommy had joined her at the entrance of the room, pulling her in for a hug, allowing (y/n) to inhale the scent of his expensive cologne.

Their day together had flown by all too quickly, ending with a quick dinner before they had parted ways, leaving (y/n) with a heavy heart. She didn��t know what it was, but yet she had instantly missed him the second Tommy had left her side, promising to meet her again for breakfast the next morning.

“I have some meetings I can’t miss out on today, but if you want to, we can try to catch some auroras tonight.” The smile playing on Tommy’s lips left (y/n)’s heart skipping beats, already filled with excitement at the mere thought of spending some more time with him.

“Absolutely, wait, let me give you my number, so you can just call or text whenever you’re ready.” She was too focused on reaching for her phone to pick up on the warm smile settling on Tommy’s lips, watching the young woman fumble with her phone. There was something swimming in his pupils that was all too unfamiliar, even to Tommy himself, she was doing something to him he hadn’t ever felt before, not wanting to leave her behind for even a minute.

(Y/n) reached her phone out to Tommy, watching him add his contact as she finished her drink. Their fingers touched as he pushed the phone back towards (y/n), making shudders run down her spine like bolts of lighting striking her body.

“If we’re lucky we can catch a few before midnight, so we can come back before the fireworks.” (Y/n) had almost forgotten that today was new year’s eve, a day she had always disliked, not one for drinking, partying, and staying up for endless hours. With a smile shot Tommy’s way she murmured a soft “Sounds good”, hoping that today would be another day she’d remember for months on end.

……

The cold wind teased their limbs, wrapping itself around the two as they were sitting on a bench, cuddled into their jackets with their eyes focused on the dark sky. For the longest time it had been (y/n)’s dream to see the auroras dance on the night sky, green and blue stripes of light that almost drew tears to her eyes.

“Worth the wait, right?” Tommy’s soft voice broke the silence, momentarily forcing her eyes away from the sky. He was sitting close to her, arm touching hers, leaving her feeling all too comfortable around the man.

“Definitely. Thank you for taking me here.” Since her eyes wandered back to the sky, (y/n) didn’t pick up on the way Tommy’s eyes flickered down to her cold hands, giving himself a few seconds to overthink his next move before he slowly interlaced his fingers with hers. Her heart skipped a few beats at the touch, making heat rise in her system, eyes momentarily finding his piercing ones.

Both couldn’t stop their smiles from widening, holding onto one another as the auroras kept dancing in the sky. (Y/n) silently prayed that whoever was listening would freeze the moment, not wanting it to end just there and then, not ready to part from Tommy just yet.

“Do you have any new year’s resolutions?” Once her eyes were drawn back to Tommy’s features, studying the man as she thought about his question, a question she had never spared much attention, not believing in resolutions most would forget about after a week or two.

“No, not really. Sometimes I want to be a bit braver, do a few more things to get me out of my shell, take a few more risks. But that’s about it, what about you?” Her breath hitched in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker down to her lips, for just a second, a second (y/n) undoubtedly picked up on.

“What kind of risks?” (Y/n) didn’t understand what was guiding her body, urged on by the unfamiliar tone of Tommy’s voice, moving closer with her gaze set on his lips. The seconds blurring by felt like minutes, hours even, with her heart racing and her breaths stuttering. Would he pull away? Would he stop her from pressing her lips against his?

But Tommy didn’t pull away, one of his hands found her cold cheek, encouraging (y/n) to close the distance between them, softly kissing Tommy. The touch left her panting, not expecting the kiss to make her feel like this. She had never believed in these cheesy descriptions of clashing teeth, fireworks going off in the distance, but now, as Tommy kissed her breathless, taking over the kiss before she could even try to lead, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel just like other people had always described to her.

They didn’t part as Tommy pulled her into his lap, kissing her beneath the colourful night sky, making them feel as if they were reliving a scene from a movie. Neither of them wanted this moment to end, wanting to stay connected till the end of their time. But with shaking heads and aching lungs they eventually had to part, staring at one another with excitement and anticipation laced in their gazes.

“Take me back to the hotel, Tommy.”

……

She had her back arched off the bed, eyes squeezed shut, hands tugging on Tommy’s hair. The man was settled between her thighs, grinning against her naked skin as he ate her out. Tommy touched her as if they had done this numerous times before, careful enough to pick up on the wordless signs her body was throwing his way, though rough enough to let (y/n) choke on her gasps.

“Fuck, Tommy, feels so good, don’t stop, please.” His chuckles vibrated on her skin, leaving (y/n) whining as she tried to hold on, not wanting to give into the sensation just yet. His fingers fucked her fast, curling against her swollen spot whenever he got the chance to. She was putty in his hand, unable to do anything but give into the pull she felt.

Tommy could tell that she was close, about to fall over the edge with his name burning in the tip of her tongue, with her hands balled into fists, and with her lungs struggling to hold onto any air. He held some kind of magic over her, (y/n) had never felt before.

“Look at me, doll, keep those pretty eyes open for me.” These were the last words (y/n) managed to pick up on before she came. Tommy’s tongue kept lapping at her folds, guiding her through her high with a satisfied smile tugging on his lips. A few praises were murmured against her soft skin, fingers lazily fucking into her for a few more moments before he let go of her.

Within seconds Tommy was towering over her once again, lips caught in a heated kiss. They didn’t part ways as she helped him out of his shirt, nails scratching at his skin as he undid his trousers, needing to feel her naked body pressed against his.

“Are you sure you want this? You can always tell me to stop.” He murmured the words against her skin as he kissed his way down her throat, groaning as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her naked cunt against his dark boxer shorts.

“Fuck me, Tommy.” He didn’t need to be told twice, letting go of her to free his cock, grinning as he felt her wide eyes taking in the sight of his twitching length. (Y/n) watched him roll a condom down his cock, aligning himself with her heat before he wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping (y/n) pressed against the mattress.

The eye contact both held was intense, and yet it had something awfully intimate to it, forcing her heart to skip even more beats. Tommy fucked her rough, not holding back as he added more and more speed to his thrusts, fingers tightening their grip around her throat. Her senses were heightened, wondering how far he’d take it with her, and yet she felt awfully safe with him around, knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her in a way she wouldn’t enjoy.

“Such a desperate girl, begging to be fucked.” A whine left (y/n), a sound that made Tommy chuckle against her lips, feeling powerful with her buried underneath him. His lips met hers in an almost rushed kiss as he fucked her, hips meeting hers with every thrust. “You fit so perfectly around me, as if you were made for me.”

“Just for you, Tommy.” A moan left them in unison as her walls fluttered around him, wordlessly begging for more friction, needing to feel his fingers on her clit to give into the sensation threatening to claw through her. (Y/n) felt herself getting lost in his pupils, wide from the lust thumping through his veins, making them appear darker, more dangerous than the piercing colour she was used to.

Both were close to letting go, wordlessly communicating their every thought, knowing that there was no holding back. Tommy let go of her throat to sneak a hand between them, lifting himself to spit onto her pulsing bundle, rubbing her skin with his warm fingers.

With (y/n)’s fingernails clawed into his skin, she came, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. Tommy kept fucking her, thrusts perfectly positioned to prolonge the intense sensation. He watched her fall apart with a grin, unable to stop himself from kissing her again before he came, groaning against her mouth.

The sound of fireworks going off ripped them out of their trance, unable to stop laughing as their eyes found the window. Wordlessly they watched the colourful lights alight the sky, still connected with their hearts beating in sync.

“Happy new year, Tommy.” His eyes flickered back down to hers, lips meeting (y/n)’s swollen ones before he repeated her words with a grin glued to his features.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders smut #modern tommy shelby

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chicgeekgirl89 · 10 months

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Chapter 3: Yachtie with a Body

Read on AO3

“So?” Nancy plops down next to T.K. on the deck, a bowl of something in one hand, a fork in the other. “What’s the deal with the new chef?”

T.K. groans. “What are you talking about?”

He’d come up to the bow of the boat to hide for a few minutes. They’re three days into this charter and the guests are being chaperoned on a shore excursion by Marjan and Paul, which means the rest of them are finally getting a little bit of a break. There are more bathrooms to be cleaned and the laundry has never looked worse, but T.K. had been enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet before his boss found him.

“I mean what’s he like? He seems super nice. Like amazingly nice. He made me this.” She holds out the bowl of mango for T.K. to see. “Like I just walked through the galley and he asked me if I wanted mango and when I said yes he cut some up for me. There’s homemade coconut cream on here dude. Pearce would have murdered you with his eyes if you’d even thought about wanting mango in his presence.”

T.K. rolls his eyes because he doesn’t have any fond memories of their time together. He’d spent more of it with Pearce than most because they’d been cabin mates and if he never hears another rant about the importance of wiping down the shower after each and every use, it will be too soon.

“I think he’s nice,” T.K. tells her, leaning over and stealing a piece of fruit from her bowl. “At least, he seems to be. He hasn’t yelled at me about using the bathroom in the middle of the night like Pearce did.”

Nancy shakes her head. “That man. Only Pearce could believe it was possible to hear nature’s call and tell it to wait until a more sensible six am. Do you think he even has a soul? Or is it just like, a shriveled up little prune kind of thing?”

“He probably returned it to sender because it wasn’t up to code,” T.K. tells her, stealing another bite. The coconut cream is amazing.

“So definitely a step up in both the roommate and chef departments,” Nancy says. “Good pick Iris.”

It’s the truth. Carlos is a major step up. T.K. has noticed the little ways in which Carlos goes out of his way to keep morale high for the crew. There have been homemade chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven, tortillas and guac, brownies, he’d even made arroz con pollo the other day when Mateo mentioned missing his abuela’s cooking. He’s going above and beyond not just for the guests, but for the crew too. It’s incredibly sweet.

“Do you—“ T.K.’s question is interrupted by the sound of a loud splash that catches both of their attention. “Are the guests back?” T.K. asks, an icy bolt of panic going down his spine as he check to makes sure his radio is turned up and that he hasn’t missed anything.

“No they’re not supposed to be back for like another two hours,” Nancy says, standing up and looking over port the side. “The tender is still gone.”

T.K. pushes to his feet and jogs the few feet over to starboard. There’s nothing in the water on that side either. “Judd or Mateo doing something with the water toys?” T.K. asks.

“Mateo’s in his bunk and Judd was up on the bridge with Tommy when I came out here,” Nancy says.

They’re both walking now, eyes on either side of the boat as they move from the bow toward the stern. When they finally reach the back of the boat they stop dead in their tracks.

New chef Carlos Reyes is hoisting himself out of the cerulean waters of the Caribbean and onto the Nautibuoy platforms that extend off the boat’s stern. Time feels like it’s slowing and T.K.’s eyes go wide as he watches Carlos stand up, water cascading down over toned biceps and abs, his perfectly crafted thighs clad in only a dark pair of swim trunks that cling to him and leave very little to the imagination.

“Holy shit,” Nancy whispers next to him, her tone appropriately reverential for what they’re witnessing. “New chef is a yachtie with a body.”

T.K. can’t speak and wouldn’t know what to say if he could. Carlos pushes his sopping wet curls back out of his face and then he looks up and spots them, giving them a friendly wave as he reaches for a towel that’s hanging over the railing.

They both manage to wave back despite their surprise. “Okay,” Nancy says, her voice low, a smile plastered on her face as her hand continues to wave back and forth. “Somebody’s gotta hit that. And it should probably be you.”

“Me?!” T.K. stops waving and turns to her in shock. “Why me?”

“Are you saying you’re not interested?”

“No I—“ Oh god, he’s going to embarrass himself. “Why would you immediately jump to me? He’s Iris’ ex.”

“Which is exactly why it has to be you,” Nancy says pragmatically. “Judd’s got Grace back home, Captain’s got her preacher man on shore, Marjan needs somebody within her faith and culture, Paul is seeing Asha, Iris doesn’t want him anymore, so that leaves you.”

“Or you, or Mateo,” T.K. points out.

“Mateo and I have a thing,” she says.

Wow she is really full of surprises today. “You. And Mateo. Have a thing,” T.K. repeats.

She waves a hand. “It’s casual.”

He tries to wrap his mind around that and decides he’d rather not. “He dated Iris. Which makes him straight.”

Nancy looks at him, offended. “Bisexual people exist.”

“Fine. Okay, yes, they do, but I would never date someone Iris dated. It wouldn’t be cool.”

“Did you ask her if it would be cool?”

“Why would I ask her that?!”

Nancy shrugs. “Because he’s hot. And you clearly like him. You’re basically drooling dude.”

T.K. instinctively wipes at his mouth with his hand and glares at her when he doesn’t find anything. “He’s my roommate. And Iris’ ex. And probably straight. Any one of those things is enough of a reason for me to leave him alone.”

She makes a face. “What is the point of yachting if not to make stupid sexual decisions? I’m making some. And it’s a lot of fun.”

“I really don’t want to hear anymore thank you,” T.K. says. He’s pretty open about sex, but he doesn’t want to know what his boss and Mateo are doing with each other below deck.

“Just saying, it wouldn’t hurt either one of you to have a little fun. And if the Iris thing bothers you, then just ask her. You know she’ll tell it to you straight.” She pats him on the shoulder. “Also, did I mention you’re on carpet spot duty this afternoon?”

“Noooooo,” T.K. moans.

“The guests were drinking a lot of red wine last night. Make sure you get them all out!” Nancy sing songs as she heads back inside.

T.K. hangs his head and then slowly follows her. He makes a quick stop by his cabin to grab his phone and his earbuds (at least he can have Harry Styles for company as he scrubs) and nearly runs into Carlos. “Oh sorry,” he says.

“No problem,” Carlos says back.

He’s thrown a button-up on, thank god, so T.K. isn’t face to face with his incredible pecs, but he can still smell the saltwater on his skin, in his hair. “How was your swim?” T.K. asks.

“Great,” Carlos says. “I just needed to cool off for a few minutes and Captain said it was all right.”

“Yeah Tommy’s good like that,” T.K. says.

“Right, Tommy,” Carlos says sheepishly. “I forget you guys are kind of informal.”

“We’re a family,” T.K. says. “That’s why she was such a good fit when she came on as captain. It might not work on all boats, but it does on ours.”

Carlos snorts. “It definitely wouldn’t have worked on my last boat.”

There’s something bitter in his words even though he says them lightly and T.K. feels a flash of anger at whoever made him feel bad enough to put that tone in his voice. “Your last boat was tough?” he asks.

“You could say that.”

“Is that why you came here?” T.K. asks.

“I came because Iris called,” Carlos says and the mention of her name, of their relationship, sends a stab of pain through T.K. “But yes, also to get away.”

“Do you…want to talk about it?” T.K. offers.

Carlos shrugs. “I’m fine. I survived. We’ve all been on bad boats before.”

“Well we’re all glad you’re here,” T.K. tells him.

“I heard Pearce was…quite a guy to work with,” Carlos says, flashing him a grin that says the crew has definitely been telling tales of some of Pearce’s more infamous moments.

“Yeah you’re definitely an upgrade,” T.K. says, then winces at the blatant horniness of that statement.

“An upgrade huh?” Carlos’ smile changes, drops into something lazy and sensual. The way he leans on one arm against the top bunk feels flirty.

T.K. loves flirting. He loves flirting so. freaking. much. So it takes a lot of effort for him to wrench himself out of charm mode and back into boat colleague mode. “Honestly anyone would have been an upgrade from Pearce,” he says. “Did I tell you he used to time me in the bathroom? If I took more than five minutes in the morning he’d start to bang on the door and tell me to get out.”

“Yikes,” Carlos says, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off and, oh god, the abs are back and T.K. feels like he needs to avert his gaze, like he’s a gentleman from a Jane Austen novel trying to protect someone’s modesty. Which is ridiculous. Because he’s seen hundreds of naked chests before in all different contexts. But this chest, these abs…something about them calls to him.

“Sorry, he sounds like a nightmare,” Carlos says as he pulls on a white undershirt, effectively bringing T.K.’s lustful thoughts to an end.

“Nightmare is definitely the word,” T.K. agrees. “Ask Nancy about the pineapple disaster of week three. She still has the scars.”

He chuckles and T.K. feels a thrill at being able to affect him like that. “I will definitely ask,” Carlos says.

“Hey, T.K.!” Iris comes bopping down the hallway, slightly breathless. “Oh, hey Carlos,” she says when she spots him through the open door. She looks back and forth between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“Nope.”

They both speak a little too quickly, as if there’s something to hide, even though there’s not. They’re standing here with the door open, not sneaking around.

So why does T.K. feel guilty anyway?

Her eyes narrow suspiciously, but she doesn’t press it. “I can’t find those little disco balls we used a couple weeks ago. The rainbow colored ones.”

“I put them in the cabinet in the dining room,” T.K. says.

“You did not.”

He sighs. “Yes I did!”

It takes some searching but they find the missing disco balls (it turns out he did put them in the dining room cabinet, but Mateo took them back out again for some game they were playing with the guests). Then it’s onto red wine stain purgatory, armed only with a spray bottle of club soda, a white rag, and determination. By the time he’s done the carpet looks like it’s never seen a drop of wine in its life, and T.K.’s back and arms are sore.

He hauls himself to his feet and trudges to the galley to return the salt he’d borrowed in case the club soda wasn’t enough. Carlos is chopping up veggies for the crew dinner, several filets of salmon set to the side. He looks up when T.K. comes in and frowns. “You look like you just fell off a bucking bronco.”

“I’m banning red wine from the boat,” T.K. tells him, setting the salt shaker down onto the prep counter. “White wine only. No sangria. No merlot. Clear liquids and nothing else.”

“Good luck with that,” Carlos says, going back to his chopping.

“Thanks for the sympathy,” T.K. says sarcastically. “You have no idea the agony of scrubbing out carpet stains. Over and over and over. It never ends. It’s like some kind of polyester Groundhog Day nightmare. And definitely not my preferred way to get rug burn.”

Carlos bites his lip in amusement. “I didn’t know there was a good way to get rug burn.”

T.K. scoffs. “Then you’ve clearly never had sex with me.”

The words are out before he can stop them, a flirty reflex that he can’t contain. It often gets him what he wants, but right now he’d like to melt through the floor.

Carlos sets his knife down again, something shifting in his eyes. “Is that something you’re offering?”

It’s light, but there’s an undertone. Something more serious, something that makes T.K. want to go over there and show him exactly how much he’d like to offer sex.

“Carlos, Carlos, Nancy,” the radio squawks, breaking the moment.

Carlos picks it up. “This is Carlos.”

“The guests are heading back. If you could get their snicky snack ready that would be fabulous darling.”

“No problem.”

T.K. flees. It’s cowardly, it’s stupid, it’s extremely not cool, but he runs back to their shared cabin and locks the door behind him. He leans against it and exhales. Who the fuck does he think he is? It is not appropriate to proposition your cabin-mate-who-has-dated-your-co-worker for sex. It’s just not.

He lets his head thunk back against the door. What is he going to do?

#Tarlos #911 Lone Star #Come Sail Away #Yachting AU

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iceprincessviviane · 3 years

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Eyes in the darkness

Paring: Yandere!C!Technoblade x BookwormEnchanter!Female!Reader

Type: Romantic (Technoblade is yandere). Trilogy - part one. Next part.

Warnings: swearing, possessivness, yandere, angst, injury, sugestive content, threats, blood, silly jokes created by me.

Summary: Technoblade was watching Y/N for some time, trying to stay in the shadows. Unfortunately voices and thoughts won against the logic and he want her now on his side forever.

Author's note: Inspiration from a lot of things, but especially: Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast. This used to be oneshot, but I changed my mind, ut will be trilogy. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.

Words in blue colour are Y/N thoughts.

Y/N didn’t know when was the last time she ran for her life. Probably during one of the pillagers attack on the village or maybe in the Nether. But none of them was that type. Now she was being chased by something way much more dangerous than besties. At the moment, she’s being followed by the Blood God himself. Despite the aching and pain of her muscles and her throat feeling dry from gasping for air, Y/N was still asking herself how did on earth this happen?

~*~

Y/N always loved books and reading, she came to Smp two weeks after Foolish arrival. Actually her friendship with him leaded her here. They exchanged the letters and she was interested in staying somewhere for a while. After some time, she decided to come. Her divine friend already started to build his summer home and had few buildings done. She stayed there for few couple of days, they decided to build something for herself. She already have met most of Smp members including Dream Team, Bench Trio and rest, but owning home, place for stay was good idea. Sometimes Y/N liked to be alone. Eret allowed her to build something behind his castle, it was always nice to have someone close.

It took time before she ended house, it was cozy one with big field in front, farms, cellars and most important - library with enchanting place. It was huge, biggest part of the house with plenty of regals and reading spots. Y/N loved to spend there time and collectin more books or texts. Foolish had a lot of ancient scrolls or manuscripts and liked to share them with her. They could spend hours discussing about their favourite ones.

Books caused that Y/N met Phil, because he was the second person on the Smp, which had great collection from centauries. Shark god took her at trip to Tundra. Y/N was excited to meet such person and nervous too. Happily, everything went all right, Technoblade wasn't that time in home, so they had chilling conversation. Winged man was very curious about her skills and enchants. Of course during his travells and lifespan he met enchanters, but didn't paid much attention to them. Now, he could meet one in chill ocassion. Their three had a lot of talking, giggling and being wholesome. Phil promised to borrow more interesting books and Y/N said, that she can give some enchantments.

When Technoblade came back he immediately felt, that Foolish was there with... someone else... someone new. It smelled like pine and old paper, very nice. Phil told him about visitors and Y/N, he ignored it a little bit, but voices... voices liked this smell a lot.

'So strange.' 'Which woman can smell like that?' 'Where is she living?'

}*{

Y/N was peaceful person with no intention to harm anybody, staying in her place. She stayed in positive relations with almost everyone, providing needed enchantments and helping caused, that a lot of members were friendly to her. Y/N liked to hanging out with Bench Trio, although they were sometimes so chaotic. Usually she went mining with Ranboo, when it was needed, cutting trees with Tommy for his buildings and staying in Snowchester with Tubbo. That is why she came with almost everyone, when Tommy and Tubbo were in Dream bunkier fighting with him. Discs were just items, but... Dream's obsession, it was dangerous and teenagers were her friends. After that a lot of things changed. Putting him into Pandora's Vault was meant to protect them, but she was getting cold shivers each time she looked at black walls of prison. Knowing that everyone could be locked there...

After Egg's influence grew stronger she tried to find some infromations about it and how could ghe possible defeat it, but that took time. Foolish and Phil were so helpful handing their ancient texts, to make research. Suddenly with crimson vines everywhere, Smp became less safer, at least she felt it that way. More members were busy with their business and stuff, they finally could do them, when Dream was locked. For example Foolish agreed to build big mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo, which got platonical marriage and Tommy started his hotel. Meeting Michael was so wholesome and funny, little zombie piglin started to like her and at each visit she read him fairy tales and stories.

Y/N decided to not think about bad sides of Smp, just being busy and tried to help, if someone needed it. Before Doomsday wandering around could be dangerous, especially for La'Manburg citizens, because Dream and Technoblade were unpleasant for them. Now she enjoyed visiting almost everyone everywhere. After a few visits, she could tell that something was wrong, Y/N couldn't tell what, but it was almost like being watched, blaming Egg and vines was her answer for that, but actually why? Why did it do that? She would never joined their side. Never ever. Sometimes she spotted the Phil's corws, but that wasn't a s surprise, birds were telling him a lot of informations around the Smp. Easy way to know almost everything.

}*{

Y/N was heading to her house, stepping at Prime Path. In opposite direction she spotted Quackity, slowly walking by from prison direction, which was surprise. She smiled softly to him and he smiled back.

"What's up?" Big Q asked when got closer to her.

"It's good I am coming back home, need to eat and get some nap, and you?"

"I... ended some buisness." His face stiffened and his look became more serious.

Y/N nodded little unsure about his changed emotions. Suddenly she spotted that his sleeve is covered in fresh blood.

"Are you hurt?" She asked worried.

Quckity looked at his shirt as surprised as she and frowned, he checked axe which hanged down from his belt.

"I guess so then, but I don't know where did that come from."

"Let me take care of this." Y/N suggested with warm smile. "My home is closer than Las Nevadas."

After a few moments he nodded in agreement. They together headed to her place. Weather started to become stormy, dark cloud covered the sun, threating to start raining.

Then went inside, but when she was closing door, feeling of being watched hit her with dubled strength. House was in the spine forest, but fenced and had a gate. In filed were some farms, trees and small garden, but everything seemed to look normal. Big Q sat on the couch in living room and Y/N brought bandages, water in bowl and even healing potion. He rose sleeve, wound wasn't long, but deep, something cut his arm, probably weapon.

"It doesn't look good, but you will be okay." She said after looking at cut.

"Good." He sighed with relief.

"What did make it? Do you have an idea?"

Big Q looked dead in her eyes and remained silence. Of course he knew what, but he didn't even noticed the wound before leaving the prison. Well, someone will pay for this.

"Maybe working at Las Nevadas, you know... I am still building there." He spoke after a while.

"Oh... ye you have right, but be careful next time." Y/N suggested and started to work on cut carefuly. Starting on cleaning, then gently bandaged it.

"Thank you." Big Q said after seeing the results.

"No problem, just don't walk around with untreated wound." Y/N giggled softly.

He stood up and moved his eyes on windows. Black clouds didn't go away, even became worse.

"I will go now, weather is getting worse, I want to be in home before storm." Big Q said with soft smile.

"Of course, see you next time."

After he left, big storm came, darkness fell upon the Smp, rain and wind were too strong, for coming outside. Y/N decieded to take a chance and nap. She baked some cookies and sit down on a couch with another book, which Phil borrowed her. Only the torches gave light, sometimes thunderbolt stroke and filled room with unatural blue light. Drops hit hardly, making loud sounds, but Y/N was too much into a book. Two hours has passed and slowly night was coming. She moved eyes to meet clock, yep that was supper time, put the book away and up, Gods thr storm didn't let go. Y/N watched for a while outside, then go to kitched. She grabbed blanket and wrapped it around her posture, damn there were cold.

Again feeling of being watched kicked in. She was alone at home, that was sure thing. Outside was deep dark and behind the windows was the wall of the water. Y/N bite her lip and shook head, it was just her imagination, a feeling which stayed for no reason after putting Dream into Pandora's Vault. She took an kettle and suddenly was seeing something in the corner of the eye, something red and unusual in the spine forest. Her figure frozen when she moved back eyes. Deep in the dark, around sprouce trees in the line of forest, Y/N spotted pair of shinning, red eyes, high above the ground. They were locked at her figure.

'This has to be spider... or something else...'

Right after this thought, ceature turned back and disappeard in the darkness, cold shiver went down at Y/N spine. What was that? And why it was here? At least she was safe in home...

}*{

'More.' 'Training is boring, let's find someone to fight.' 'We demand blood.'

Technoblade sighed and stopped, voices today were very, very loud. That was why he decided to train, but during it, they became even worse. He hid sword and walked into home. Phil wasn't here today, he had to do something, but didn't bother to tell him what it was. Blade went back to home by his old path through the forest. His training place was near the cottage, but still hidden from common people. All members of Syndicate knew where it was. First of all he need to take shower. When cold water touched his skin, he felt like even his bloodlust became less, quiet hiss left his lips. He earned some chafings this week. Next, he changed his clothes to common and made a cup of tea, then sit in the kitchen. Immediately his thoughts went to Y/N.

Somehow voices were acting diffrent around her and he even found himself acting that way. They were focused around Y/N and he was more calm, like just her pressence was comforting him. Technoblade remembered their first meeting, it was common day, when someone knocked on the door. He opened it and rose his eyebrows in surprise, outside was standing fragile woman, without any armor and only with trident on her back. They shared awkward eye contact, when suddenly she introduced herself as Y/N. Of course he saw her couple of times, but it wasn't officialy. Y/N has known who was he for sure, she swallowed hard and looked down with shyness. Phil yelled across the room, that she could come in. Ah yes... she loved to read books and his old friend was borrowing her them a lot. Technoblade again felt the spine and old papers smell, for him, it could stay here forever. After short visit, Y/N took books, gave back book of enchantment and left.

Techno's curiosity has increased, when he heard about her more. She was peaceful, friendly soul, completly opposite of him, maybe that was, why he felt so... diffrent around her and voices too. Piglin hybrid enjoyed watching her from the distance, in the shadows, but lately... lately it wasn't enough. Now he wanted to breathe at Y/N scent, holding her close and pressed soft kisses at forehead. He was under voices pressure so long and now his salvation was so close. But what would he make it? As longer he has thought of that, a diffrent ideas came to his head. She was delicate creature, he had to get plan at all. Techno knew almost everything about her: hobbies, traditions, friends and fighting skills. Phil told him a lot about enchanters, they could make enchanting books after years of studying and had magic talent sometimes. As they knew, Y/N could enchant books at any spell, so she had to studied a lot. Technoblade sighed and grabbed his cloak, time to keep an eye on few things.

'Let's not go quietly!' 'Let's go quiet as grave...' 'Blood for the Blood God!'

}*{

That was busy week, Y/N could only one time saw Foolish and Phil, but whole Smp seemed a little bit diffrent... luckily she was able to go on mining trip with Ranboo and Eret visited her with a couple of books, which were about Smp. Now was afternoon and sun slowly started to set, she was heading to her house, where waited for her snow fox, which she found in Snowchester. Cute, little ball of fur stole Y/N heart immediately. When she finally stepped inside, Snowflake - that how she named it, ran into her squeaking high.

"What happend my little one?" She knelt down and pet it's head.

Fox looked at her with big brown eyes and squeaked once more, then jump into her arms.

"Oh oh oh... are you afraid of something?" Y/N hugged Snowflake and looked around. Everything in home seemed normal, door was closed, in a field same, animals were quite nervous, but everything was good. She frowned and stepped inside, then put fox into basket with small blanket.

"I will bring you some berries, you will like it for sure." Y/N smiled gently.

Unfortunately, she didn't have any at this moment in home, Snowflake was there only for three days, so she couldn't make berries farm so fast, because she had to set up a space. Luckily, she lived around coniferous forest, so didn't even hesiatate, Y/N just grabbed backpack and went outside. Sun was lower in the sky, but still it was warm and brightly. Birds were humming quietly and around was quite quiet. Berries bush weren't so far, she founed some, but in order to make supplies, decided to find more, then plant them around the house. It would spared the time and work.

"Y/N." She heard deep, lazy voice and immediately turned at it's direction.

The Blade was standing under big sprouce tree with satisfied grinn on his lips. Eyes locked on Y/N figure, which completly froze at the sight of him. She have never been with him alone, in tundra always Phil or Ranboo were around, now it felt... strange and risky, she still remembered what happend to La'Manburg citizens.

"Technoblade." Y/N spoke softly, being careful to not crack her voice, despite building feeling of fear. She noticed, that piglin hybrid under his royal, crimson cloak was wearing armor, probably not his best one, but still enough to win fight. Part of hair made into bun, rest were freely in his back and shoulders. From his belt was hanging netherite sword and netherite axe was sticking out from behind. She spotted, that his weapons were a little covered in blood, same as his sleeves and parts of shirt. He was killing monsters right? Or just hunting? Uncomfortable, awkward silence reminded between them, only forest noises distrubed it from time to time.

Voices were too loud today, too agressive, too greedy, killing monsters and pillagers wasn't enough, Quackity has already tasted his steel, well he deserved that after showing up in Y/N home. He had so much fun with him, but after that he needed some rest, comfort and calm. That is why without even thinking too much Technoblade went straight to Y/N house. He hoped, that everything will change, that he finally will has some break from voices, violence and killing. Of course he liked his way to be... but yes sometimes, you have to make a nap.

"Are you wounded?" Y/N asked quietly breaking the silence. After all, if he needed help, she would help him, without hesitation.

Technoblade's grinn became more sinister, he put hand on sword hilt and slowly tilted his head on right side.

"This isn't my blood." He said without caring at all.

"Oh, that's good then..." Y/N whispered, but he could hear that.

Piglin hybrid studied her posture, she had only trident at her back, backpack in left hand, no armor, no more weapons. Poor little girl, that's not how you are going outside your home, she was literally unarmed in his eyes.

"So... what are you doing here? Alone? In the forest?" Technoblade asked and moved closer to her.

The way he spoke these words, made Y/N shiver inside, outside, she grabbed her backpack harder. Surely there was nothing to worry about, she has never done something wrong to him or Philza, she wasn't dangerous or wanted to has any power. Techno is probably just passing by. Suddenly he was so close, now she could for real see the height diffrence, for the gods sake, her head reached around his breastbone. Y/N looked up only to meet piglin hybrid's burning gaze.

"I... I was collecting berries for my snow fox. Something scared her, so I thought that she will calm down after getting some and I ran out of them..." she suttered and swallow hard.

"How sweet." Technoblade commented and his smile widened.

"So... you are just passing by?"

"Not really."

Sudden grip on her chin caught Y/N off guard. Technoblade forced her to look straight into his eyes. His face stiffened a little bit, she hissed quietly, when claws touched harder gentle skin. Then she realised... Blade's eyes were red and she heard, that it could glow in darkness. Her skin became pale and pupils widened. It was him, that time during a storm, he was watching her...

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked quietly, without any clue, what was going on.

'She is so innocent.' 'We love her scent.' 'Let her know.'

"I have something to tell you." He leaned and immediately her scent hit him harder, resisting to take deep breath wasn't that easy.

"What excatly?"

"I was watching you for a while Y/N. Belive me or not I found that interesting, because your pressence is calming for me, I can fall asleep while listening your voice and push away my violence behaviour, when you are around." He stroked her cheek by his thumb and smiled haughty. "I am always getting , what I want and I want that so badly, you can't even imagine."

Y/N shook head and made few steps back, leaving his grip, couldn't belive what she just heard. That's impossible.

"I don't know what to say... I can admit, that I had strange feeling of being watching but... I blamed the Egg..." She looked deep into his eyes, trying to put everything together. "What do you mean, you are always getting, what are you want? How am I suppose to understand that?"

"Listen sweetheart, we can do this in two diffrent ways: good or bad. If you choose first one, fine politely you will go with me. Second way? Well I can be very convincing, when I want to." Technoblade frowned.

None of this options was good for her. Y/N sighed and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't do anything literally...

"Come on princess. I can take care of you, I promise, you will be happy." He gave her his hand, but gripped sword hilt harder.

Y/N always avoided the conflicts and argues, never has started any, that was easier and better way to live. She could take care of her interests, powers anf friends by being supportive or neutral. Technoblade's behaviour made her shiver and feel sick, there was no guarantee that he will keep his words, even if it were sweet and promising. Y/N knew that fighting him was pointlees, he were ten thousand better than her, she didn't even have armor or second weapon. But surrender just like that? Without any resistance? She always was determinated, miss 'you can always find a way, solution'. Not a chance.

"I think I have better option, which lay in the middle." Y/N smiled gently.

"Well, tell me then." Technoblade rose his eyebrows with curiosity.

With one smooth move, she put backpack on and immediately started to run. The Blade's pupils widened, he burst out laughing.

"It will be funny."

She has known, that she needed to lose him in forest. Going to home wouldn't help, because door or gate couldn't stop Blood God. Lost him and then ran away from Smp, at least her current living location. Y/N realized that she couldn't even ask for help anyone. Probably Technoblade would come after her friends, helpers, so that was it. Y/N versus The Blade, she was on her own.

'How did she dare to run away from us?!' 'Chase her, catch her.' 'Faster, faster, faster!'

It seemed like running away from Tommy for fun, came in handy and long trips with Ranboo caused her to move fast through forest. Y/N nimbly jumped over obstacles and avoid rocks or roots. Her pace wasn't the fastes, but she could hold it for pretty long time. She wasn't thinking a lot, just tried to run away as far as she could.

'Don't look back, don't look back, it will make you slower.'

Hiding could be good idea, but not now. As long as he was close, she couldn't stop at all. Breaking through the forest was only hearing noise, soon, she heard her heavy breathing. Heading to unknown direction wasn't so wisely, but Y/N had no choice. After a few minutes, she stopped to catch breath. Around was sudden so quiet, cold shiver went down at her spine. Too quiet.

"Already tired?" Technoblade's voice surprised her from left side.

She turned head, just to see him leaning against the tree. In his right hand he held sword, didn't even look like he was running.

"You can't outrun me little one. A lot of people tried, now they are dead." He aimed sword at her. "We can end this farce here. I am not mad, honestly, you made me smile a little bit."

"You will have to catch me, if you want me going with you." Y/N said and then continue to run away.

"Oh I will princess, that's what predator does to the prey."

Y/N started to feel really tired, muscles aching, throat dry from gasping for air, hair dispelled and cheeks red. She ran for a while, but now had to stop. Technoblade immediately appeared in her field of vision. He was walking carefuly, but still looked intimidating.

"Don't come closer!" She released a cry.

Piglin hybrid stopped about eight meters away. He leaned sword against the ground and looked at her with curious gaze.

'Here she is, our reward.' 'Let's finally take her with us.' 'We like that sound.'

"I think, I just caught you." A little grinn appeared on his lips.

She looked straight into his eyes. Her gaze full of fear met a calm and determination. Y/N didn't even want to think what would happend, if he fulfilled his desires. Gods sake, she was free human being, none could take her freedom, she didn't ask for this. In an act of desperation, with the last of her strength, she used her powers. Feeling of warm through fingers and energy drained from her veins, but then burning light. In Technoblade's towards direction flew literally fireball, but he was too skilled for this. He made a dodge and looked at Y/N with mix of proud and shock. She dropped to her knees, struggling to stay conscious, despite the pain at her whole body and tired mind and unclear vision. Technoblade immediately was with her, he knelt down and support her, by putting arm around her waist. Y/N leaned back against his chest, fatigue prevailed over reason.

"Enough for today princess. You run out, if you will keep resisting." He whispered calmly.

"Please, please... please I don't want this, I want to go home." Her voice was cracking, tears strimming down at her cheeks.

"Hush darling, everything will be all right."

Technoblade's body radiated warm, his tone suddenly was so calming and sleepy. She wanted to close eyes so badly, but still fear was too big.

"You are safe, nothing can hurt you I promise."

After this words Y/N gave up and lost consciousness. Sun went down and shadows became longer and darker.

}*{

Phil careful closed the doors, then walked quietly down. Technoblade sat in kitchen with cup of hot tea, he immediately looked at his old friend, his eyes were worrying.

"Y/N is good, she lost consciousness, because was too tired. You said that, she used her powers."

"It was literally fireball, but I dodge that easy."

"Well, now we know about her powers at least... interesting, what you are going to do, when she wake up?" Phil asked and sat in opposite site.

"I know, that you are not glad about this, but I will figure this out. She won't cause any troubles." Techno's voice became deeper.

Winged man sighed and looked at his friend. He knew what he was going through, when voices became louder and demanded blood, each moment of silence or when they were quiet, Technoblade cherished and tried to make it worth. Phil couldn't be angry or mad for his friend about that deed, but... he was torn.

"Come on spit it out. I can see that you want to tell something important." Piglin hybrid said slowly.

"We were through a lot of shit, we know each other for almost ages and we blew up the nation for gods sake, kidnapping isn't the worst thing you have done, but..." Phil started and looked at Techno. "I wish you best and everything good, but I don't know how will I act around. Y/N has come to me for books, we were talking about stuff, I gave her cookies and tea. How will I explain, that I am supporting your decision? And I am always on your side." Phil said aloud his worries.

"I will give her time to get used to. After certain amount of time Y/N will understand." The Blade was lost in his thoughts.

He was so greatful of his friend statement, but still a little bit unsure. This case shloudn't affect on their relationship or Phil's life. Honestly Technoblade belived that his pressence will comfort Y/N at least, as he said they were close and enjoyed each other company.

"Someone will notice her disappering. What then? And Ranboo is visiting us a lot." Phil sighed a little.

"I've got this, trust me."

"I trust you with my own life." Winged man nodded.

}*{

Sunlight kissed her skin gently, when it showed up on window. Y/N felt softness under herself and on her back. Quiet sigh left her lips, when she opened eyes. In the room was very bright, but for sure it wasn't her room. Immediately cold shiver went down at her spine. Still weak, she tried to lift herself, because she was lying on stomach. Bed was big, with good beddings and pillows.

"Don't move, you are still weak." Technoblade's voice was soft, but loud.

Y/N bite her lip and then lifted head. He was standing near the bed and observing curiously, looking completly diffrent. White, linen shirt and high waisted, leather trousers, hair braided tighly. In this version he was... more open and accessible, not so scary.

"Where am I?" She asked slowly and rolled at her back with quiet hiss. Muscles still hurt and throat was dry.

"In my house, in tundra safe and..." He cut off, while noticed that Y/N is trying to get up. "What did I say?" He stepped closer and sat on bed.

She sat unsure on mattress, just to met Technoblade here, he gripped again her chin, as in the forest and forced her to look at him. This time it was more gently.

"Darling please..."

"You can't take my freedom!"

His eyes darkened immediately and Y/N regreted her words. She swallowed hard, when Blade looked deep into her eyes.

"Of course I can and I will, if you don't behave good. If you didn't notice, you aren't chained or tied, but pretty comfy in my bed." He said slowly with threat in his voice. "Think about it."

Technoblade released her and got up. She looked down thinking about situation, yes he didn't tied her, but still it wasn't good case. Y/N just wanted to be free, do stuff which she want and meet friends. Maybe Smp wasn't perfect, but still now it was her home, there were a lot of wars or argues, but she still had house and persons which she cared about and this was mutual, now everything was unsure.

"I am just afraid... " Y/N whispered quietly.

"As I said earlier you are safe here, you are safe with me. Nothing can hurt you." Techno grabbed bowl with soup and came back. "Here, eat, you need to recover."

"Thanks." She smiled weakly to him, took bowl and started to eat slowly.

'Good girl.' 'She will behave for sure.' 'We can teach her a lesson.'

Y/N was napping for the rest of the day, Technoblade gave her one of their books, so she wasn't bored. Probably tomorrow or next day she will stand up.

The sound of closing doors, caused her to closed book and put it away. Piglin smiled gently and took off his shirt suddenly. Y/N eyes became big.

"Wait wait wait..."

"Calm down princess, I am just going to sleep, nothing else." Technoblade smirked for her panic.

"So... where shloud I move?" Y/N asked looking around the room.

"Nowhere. You are staying here with me."

Immediately her cheeks went slighty red. She looked at him curiously. His pink skin seemed gentle from the distance, a lot of scars marked his chest and arms. Some of them little, some of them large, the biggest one was through both sides of chest. Technoblade released his hair and came closer. Y/N moved to make him some space. He laid down, she followed his steps but remain distance.

"Goodnight." She said and turned back from him.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

He blow up torches near the bed and silence fell upon them. Not even a five minutes passed, when Y/N felt sudden grip on her waist. She froze, Technoblade hugged her and pressed kiss on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Quiet whisper left her lips.

"Snuggling and cuddling." He whispered softly.

Y/N couldn't help, she giggled quietly. Techno took this as premission, her back touched his chest and second hand slowly stroked her hair.

#c!techno x you #dsmp fandom #dream smp #philza #c!technoblade x you #c!technoblade x reader #c!techno #yandere dream smp x reader #yandere dream smp x you #yandere #c!yandere!technoblade #yandere technoblade x reader

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slashersins-abandoned · 4 years

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anonymous asked :

Hii! I love your writing so much 🥰 I was wondering if you could write something for Brahms Mikey Jesse & Thomas (and maybe poly!ghostface if you feel like?) when their pacifist soft s/o who they never kill in front of kisses their hands after they kill to protect her? I need some fluff in my life . Thank you!!

brahms

you knew brahms was a complicated man . prone to kindness , clinging to you constantly , begging for attention . prone to tantrums , destroying everything in his path , making the walls shake with his fury . prone to love , petting your hair , your face , whispering desperate words of affection . you never wanted to admit it , unable to think too long about how brahms was also very prone to violence . you were lucky , you’d heard of what happened in the heelshire manner before moving in . about a man being slaughtered , a nanny attacked and chased around like cat and mouse with the cat having an unfair advantage . you knew there were murders reported when people broke in . you knew brahms was capable . but you wer lucky . you never experienced it first hand .

the man must have been drunk . must have thought no one lived in the house despite the fact you put effort into making it look lived in . he must have been confused . that’s what you wanted to think when you heard the kitchen door be busted in . you made a mistake of not running to hide . no , you went to see what happened . it seemed you were just as unexpected as the intruder was , because he paused before taking after you like a bat out of hell , yelling and waving a wrench in his hand . you’d screamed , and brahms had nearly fallen as he clamored through the walls to seek you out .

brahms wasted no time in coming out of the walls , taking in the scene of some grimy intruder about to bring a wrench down on your prone form . he saw red . chest heaving and blood thundering in his ears as he ripped the wrench out of the man’s hands and used it to beat against the man’s skull . the intruder tried to put up a fight , he even tried reaching out to you for help , but you were too wide eyed , watching as brahms violently ended this man’s life for breaking into his home , for hurting his significant other . there was no mercy . and when brahms was sure that the man had breathed his last , he looked to you . and you saw no remorse in his eyes for the kill .

the adrenaline coursing through him had him forgetting your distaste for gore and violence . he just needed to know you were okay . he thought you might flinch , might cry . but instead you took his outstretched hands and bought them to your face . kissing over his knuckles as tears finally fell . brahms pulled you into a tight embrace , hushing you as you spilled out your thank yous , i love yous , i was so scared . he’d dispose of the mess later . right now you needed him . and he needed you .

michael

michael has never killed in front of you . there’s never been a reason to . you’re always at home , at work , at school , somewhere he isn’t when he’s destroying and ending lives . the most you see is a bloody knife in your kitchen and filthy clothes in the hamper . you don’t like it , hating to think about those who lost their life to michael’s blood lust . you know you’re lucky to have never seen it . to only deal with the smallest of traces of the destruction he leaves .

it’s a nice evening for a walk . work was running late , and so you stayed extra . and after such a long shift , you were excited to get home and hopefully find michael sitting on the couch . maybe he’d tolerate you leaning on him as you forget the stresses of the day . you don’t notice you’re being followed . maybe it’s due to you being lost in your own little world . maybe it’s due to the fact you’ve gotten used to the feeling of being watched by micahel that it just slips your mind completely . but you do feel the head of a gun shove into your back as a hand wraps around your mouth .

there’s a demand that you give up your money or else . the gun digging in your back painfully as gloved hands squeeze your jaw hard . another demand , a near desperate shout for your any and everything in your bag . and then you feel the man press against you , a weak strained noise leaving him , something thick and warm dripping down the back of your neck and over your shoulders . the weight of the man get’s heavy , and then he falls to the side , gargling on his own blood , twitching and wide eyed as he stairs at the sky .

you turn so fast you almost fall , taking a few steps back only to meet michael’s gaze . a kitchen knife in his hand , wet and dripping crimson . he watches you for a moment . daring you to run . and you do , but not away from him , to him . he lets you wrap your arms around him chest , sobbing as you cling to him . michael allows the contact until you even your breathing . you want to stay and cling to him , fingers in a white knuckle grip on his jumpsuit . you just saw him kill and yet you still stay . because you love him . because despite everything , you know at least some small part of him might love you to .

jesse

he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston … preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .

he’d taken you . taken you with threats to torture you . the fury inside of jesse was untamed . preston thought he was so smart , but jesse was smarter . he found the little hide away without any difficulty . always sloppy and so easy to track . preston was pathetic . and jesse would be doing the world a fucking favor by ending his life .

he’d never wanted to drag you into this world . he wanted you free from it . but here you were , tapped to a chair , tears streaming down your face . preston was smug as he watched you , not noticing the gleam of chrome behind him . not realizing that jesse was here , close . he didn’t notice until jesse squatted down and cut through his Achilles tendon in one deep slash . the larger man was quick to disarm preston , using the knife he’d been holding to stab through his hand with so much force it settled into the floor . jesse hand’t wanted you to see this side of him . but it open for you . jesse’s heart set on one thing and one thing only . dismembering and torturing this betrayer of trust and kidnapper of his love . it slow and agonizing , and you had to close your eyes and look away , unable to take the scene . but when the screaming stopped you looked back , seeing the way jesse’s broad shoulders shook and his head titled back .

you made a noise , and it drew his attention . he was on you in and instant . cutting you free and tugging at tap , even if it hurt , he wanted it off of you . before he could sign anything you were tugging him in , pushing his chrome mask off his face and kissing him , asking if he was okay , telling him how worried you were about him . he couldn’t help but bring you in close , bloodstained , gloved hands ridding up your shirt . you’d seen him at his truest , and yet you worried for him instead of yourself . he couldn’t ever let you go now .

thomas

the meat had got out . high on adrenaline and fear , the girl had somehow used her bloody wrists to wiggle out of her restraints . thomas has roared with fury when he saw her missing . grabbing his chainsaw as he quickly stomped upstairs . he needed to find and end them before they had a chance to retaliate against his family .

he was panting , looking for blood trails to lead him in the right direction when he heard you scream . his heart stopped for half a second as fear and rage flooded him . they had you . they would hurt you , take you away . he couldn’t lose you . he could’t .

the woman was clawing at you , sobbing as she dug her jagged nails into your skin , you tried to crawl away , tried to push her off , panic flooding you . soon her begs became screeches of betrayal as she realized you were one of those monsters who had killed her friends . her hands balled into fists and she raised them , bringing them down on you were she could . she didn’t get more than two hits in before tommy brought the chainsaw down on her , tearing into her back and through her spine , splattering the both of you in blood .

thomas kicked away the corpse , dropping the chainsaw as he looked down at you . fear in his eyes as he panted . he wanted to reach out , to hold you . but how could he ? you saw him kill . you would think he was a monster . and he deserved it for not tying the meat up tighter . for not just killing the meat right off the bat .

you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness … you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .

billy & stu

the boys are possessive and protective . they don’t like when people try to step in on their territory . it’s not you they don’t trust . it’s them . and there is only so much they can take before they snap . so it’s no surprise that they do . they don’t have their gear . but they do have a pick pocketed pocket knife and rage , and that will just have to do the trick . they don’t have time plan , they only have time to act . because that drunken bastard hasn’t left you alone all night , and he decided it would be find to just fucking grab at you despite you telling him to stop .

they gang up on you , putting themselves between you and the drunken bitch fuck who was trying to grind on you . they don’t want you to see , one of them backing you up , while the other all but guts the bastard in a swift motion , careful not to get blood on them . it happens so fast , the screaming , the boys acting shocked , the sudden need to rush outside , to leave the bar and sneak away . stu blocks you from view , billy leading the three of you to a gas station . with and outdoor bathroom .

they shove you in , billy washing the blood off his hands and trying to clean out the sink the best he can . stu trying to keep you from looking , but it’s too late . you can put it all together . and you’re wide eyed as you look between your boys . the looks in there eyes show you that there is a secret they’ve been hiding . something dark , something they’re scared of you finding out . and as you watch their faces everything falls into place .

this isn’t how they wanted you to find out . they didn’t want you to find out . even if they both knew that with time you would . and here in a shitty public bathroom their secret became exposed . they wait for your response . teetering on the edge of fear and rejection . when you take their hands in your own . raising them to your cheeks and give them that soft smile , they feel relieved . and you’re next words , accepting and concerned for them have them both laughing and pulling you in for kisses . just stay safe , for me .

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slashersins · 4 years

Note

mmmm somft reader with their murder men in a somft moment ! ! !

brahms

michael

jesse

he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston . . . preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .

thomas

you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness . . . you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .

billy & stu

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moral-turpitudes · 4 years

Text

Tea Party:

A/N: So Tumblr has been a bitch and not showing certain things in the tags so I’m reposting this requested fic lol.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Some fluff, Slight smut, Swearing, Fighting, Blood, Drinking/Alcohol, etc.

Word Count: 3,425

Characters: Tommy x Reader

Summary: Y/n helps Ada Shelby on a whim, saving her life and earning some praise from the Shelby family, but little did she know she’d fall for one of their most respected members.

Summary of Request: “Reader saving one of the Shelbys from their enemies and taking them home safely and the family being thankful. A few days later the enemy goes after the reader thinking she works for them and they destroy her shop, house, or car. The Shelbys find out about this and offer help, and she becomes closer to the family and everybody really likes her and she starts a relationship with Tommy. I’d like angst, fluff, and smut.”

Requested by: Anon

It was a bleak winter evening the night you met Thomas Shelby. The stars were shining and the moon was illuminating the dark roads of Small Heath, giving you an rare view of the town. You had just finished packing up your small jewelry stand that you had set up near where your families vardo was parked. This was one of your more frequent stops as there were always locals wanting to buy jewelry for their loved ones. In return, this made you a nice familiar face amongst the dreary town.

In the distance, you heard screaming, but it wasn’t one of children playing or couples yelling, it was fearful and full of anguish. Before you knew it you were running towards the sound. Yelling for your mother to keep an eye on your stuff as you dashed off into the unknown. Your heart beat frantically as the shrill screams got closer, causing a shiver down your spine as your eyes adjusted to what lay before you in the dark alley. A woman seemingly around your age was lying there in a pool of blood, a cut running across her arm and a stab wound to her abdomen. You cringed at first, but having seen your fair share of blood due to your family throwing punches and hunting, it made you a bit less squeamish. You carefully crouched down beside her, pulling off your scarf as you gently placed it over her abdomen.

Her eyes were closed and her voice was horse when she spoke.

“Please don’t let me die out here. Please take me back.” She said crying as she finally glanced up at you.

“I-I won’t let you die love you’ll be fine...where do you live? What’s your name?” You asked applying pressure to her wound as she screamed out in pain.

“A-Ada...Ada Shelby...I don’t want to go home. Take me to my brothers.” She said frantically trying to get up.

“Hey hey easy, it’s okay I got you. Where are they aye?” You asked as you draped her arm across your shoulder and helped her walk down the dark glass-like roads.

“The betting shop on the corner. You really don’t know do you?” She asked.

“Know what Ada?” You asked, leading her up the street.

“Usually if I say the last name Shelby people run or they look at me like I killed their whole family. The Shelby’s are part of the Peaky Blinders...does that ring a bell?” She asked wincing, signaling for you to stop for a moment. As you both caught your breath, you shook your head no.

“I don’t know how you couldn’t tell but I’m not like most people. I’m not from here. I travel with my family and I come here often to find work and to sell jewelry, but other than that? I’m on the road.” You said looking at your flat shoes, nothing compared to miss Ada’s fancy heels.

“I see...what’s your name?” She asked smiling slightly.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said, grabbing her arm and helping her walk towards the brick building up ahead.

You led her through the doors, the scent of whiskey and cigarettes filling the dimly lit lobby.

“Polly! Tommy! All of you bastards help me please!” She said yelling as the scarf grew more saturated with blood in the short time you walked her in. She was paling and you sat her up in a nearby chair as you heard everyone running over.

“My god what happened! Arthur, John, get the first aid kit now!” She yelled as Tommy came over, a worried look on his usually stoic face. You grabbed your coat, applying pressure as Ada winced until they got back with the supplies.

“I was walking here from my apartment. Tommy, I think one of Changretta’s men got me. They had those awful tattoos on their necks. They fucking cut me and stabbed me. I can’t die not like this.” She said putting a hand on her pale forehead.

Tommy looked at her concerned, his eyes going down to you as you sat by her holding her other hand.

“Who are you?” He asked angrily.

“Y/N Y/L/N...I heard her when I was packing my jewelry stand up. I ran over to help her. I didn’t see where the men went though.” You said looking him in the eyes before helping Polly prep some gauze. You took your glove off and urged her to open her mouth.

“You’ll want to bite down on something. This is going to hurt.” You said before pouring some of the whiskey on her abdomen while Polly poured some on her arm. Ada screamed through the cloth, earning concerned glances from some of the unrelated workers in the shop. You poured more, making sure to flush out the wound before quickly threading a needle.

“I can stitch if you’d rather not go to a hospital.” You said. Polly eyed you and Ada nodded as you began. Tommy watched as you worked, neatly stitching the small puncture wound closed.

Polly gently wrapped her arm with gauze and you helped Ada up to wrap some around her waist. After that, she gave you a hug and you went to grab your coat.

“No dear, here I’ll wash these, it’s the least we can do. Thank you for saving our Ada, Y/N.” Polly said smiling.

“Of course...I couldn’t let something happen knowing I was that close.” You said, messing nervously with the gold necklaces draped around your neck.

“So you’re travelling with the other gypsies up the road aye?” Polly asked.

“Yeah. my family likes stopping here, good business since it’s busy usually.” You said.

“Oh I’m very familiar. I grew up traveling. I think I’ve seen you before...you sell the beautiful necklaces.” She said smiling, putting your nerves at ease.

“Yeah...” You said.

“C’mon we have to find them. John you get the guns, Arthur you get the ammo.” Tommy said lowly walking by you.

“Are you going after them?” You asked him. He stopped in his tracks as his eyes pierced yours. He nodded and lit a cigarette staring at you as he waited for his brothers.

“You going to kill them?” you asked.

He smirked and looked over at Ada and Polly and then back at you.

“No I’m just goin’ to see if they want to have a tea party.” He said dryly joking.

You nodded, knowing the real answer. To be honest you’d do the same if someone came after your family.

They soon left, leaving you with Polly and a groaning Ada.

“You’ve not heard of the blinders?” Polly asked gathering your blood soaked clothing. You shook your head, yet preparing yourself for her explanation of the family business.

Later that night, you were taken back to where you family was parked by one of the Shelby’s drivers. Thanking him as you were helped out of the fancy black car. Your family came out of the two vardos and ran towards you enveloping your frame in a hug and asking where you had run off to. You hesitantly told them, knowing they were more likely to know who your new acquaintances are.

Your father tensed up and so did your mother, but you reassured them and could tell they were still happy you stopped to help someone.

The next few days passed and you spent them selling various necklaces and then deciding to go into town with your parents. You all bought some supplies and various things, and then returned a few hours later. While unpacking your latest haul, you heard an oddly familiar voice outside. Carefully stepping out, you saw Ada and Tommy talking with your parents. They seemed at ease as you heard Tommy speaking with your father. As you walked up you saw Ada smile and go in for a hug. You embraced her gently to avoid ripping her stitches and then stepped back.

“Hello Y/N. We wanted to thank you.” He said smiling slightly, handing you your jacket and scarf from the previous night, no sign of blood on them. They were soft and smelled rather floral.

“Oh thank you. And it was no problem really Mr. Shelby.” You said, catching him looking at you as you glanced up from the coat in your arms.

“Call me Tommy.” He said, another small smile playing at his lips.

Your parents excused themselves knowing this was more your business than theirs, and you hugged Ada once more before waving them off.

A thought crossed your mind though, making you smirk.

“Hey Tommy!” You asked, causing him to stop with Ada, the two of them looking at you.

“How was the tea party?” You asked smirking.

“Great...a little bloody though.” He said smirking back.

You nodded and waved them off, putting on your coat and placing your scarf in one of your pockets. When you tried to pull your hand out, your fingers brushed against a piece of paper. You gently pulled it out, and opened it so you could read what it said.

“Y/N Y/L/N,

I apologize for being so frank last night. Per my aunt Polly’s request...as well as all of my sibling’s, I have written this as a thank you for saving my sister. She has been talking non-stop about the events that transpired and about you. Something about how we should meet more often and that you seem like a good fit for me? I can’t say no to her though, since she practically begged me to write this.

Therefore, since we didn’t meet in normal circumstances and since I can’t help but to agree, I’d love to ask you out. I’ll be at the shop tomorrow evening at 6. If you’re interested, I’d love for you to come by. I look forward to getting to know you and discussing the “tea party.”

~ T. S.”

You smiled at the small letter and laughing at the assumed inside joke between you two. You’d barely met the man, but if his family felt this strongly, you figured it couldn’t hurt. You’d been single for a long while, the constant travel putting a strain on any relationship you attempted to have in the past.

The next day you spent the day rummaging through your various dresses, picking out a lacey white one. You slipped it on and checked your makeup in the small mirror in your vardo before heading out, wrapping your coat around your shoulders. As you made your way through the streets you eventually got to the shop and walked in nervously. It was a drastically different atmosphere compared to the other night, men were roaming about yelling out various numbers and the other women among them were typing and making calls.

You saw Polly in the distance and smiled when she saw you come in. She quickly walked over, giving you a hug.

“What are you doing here dear? Is everything alright?” She asked.

You smirked. “I’m um, here to see Tommy. I got a letter?” You said, holding it in your hand.

“Ah that. I’m glad he got to writing it. I’ll show you to his office.” She said, taking your hand.

She knocked and he answered, letting her in with you following behind.

“I have a visitor Tommy. Be good. She said nodding towards him and leaving.

Tommy smiled and stood up, eyeing you as you walked towards his desk.

“I see you got the letter...would you like a drink? I have whiskey and.....whiskey.” He said, walking over to his stash of the brown liquid and crystal glasses.

“That’s a hard one...I’m going to have to go with the whiskey.” You said smirking.

A minute later you were holding a cold glass, sipping on it as you sat in one of Tommy’s leather chairs.

“So about the tea party...I’m assuming my aunt told you about the peaky business right?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said, fiddling with your necklace.

“Does that make you scared?” He asked. You thought for a moment, but you decided to take another chance.

“Not really. I’m here aren’t I?” You said.

He laughed lightly and took a drink, sitting down beside you.

“You said you agreed to their request of meeting me...is that true?” You asked. Tommy got up after a moment and put his hand out for you to grab.

“If it weren’t, we wouldn’t be leaving.” He said. You took his hand and laughed as he pulled you through the lobby and out the doors of the shop.

“Where the hell are we going?” You asked seeing the sun was setting over the town.

“The Garrison. I figured that it’d be more of a date if I took ya somewhere.” He said ushering you inside the pub. The smell of smoke and various alcohols filled your nostrils as you took your coat off and placed it with Tommy’s.

As you all talked the night away, you grew more drowsy and he walked you back towards your vardo. But in shock, you stood there looking at the sight before you. The wooden planks holding up the intricate structure were torn off, and the inside was destroyed. You ran over to your parents and saw them picking up pieces of clothing and random trinkets the assumed robbers left behind. When you walked back and checked your living space you saw a black cross-like design had been painted on your door.

You looked at Tommy with hot, anger filled tears in your eyes.

“Who did this? Who fucked with my family aye?” You said walking up to him and shoving him in the shoulder. He barely moved as a an angry look overcame his features as well. You stormed off and rummaged for a handgun you had in your purse, never feeling the need to use it until now.

“You know who did this don’t you. Don’t fucking lie to me Tom.” You said cocking the gun and checking the bullets. He watched you as you angrily paced, and walked over, gently placing his hand over the barrel of the gun.

“I do know. It’s the same gang that attacked Ada. We...unfortunately have a vendetta with them. But going out there and shooting random men isn’t going to stop this.” He said looking at you. You were shaking slightly at the sudden rush of emotions as the alcohol still burned through your system.

“They took almost everything from us. Where will we go? Where the hell will we live? I though you took care of them last time!” You yelled, easing the handgun down and shoving it back into your purse.

“I have a spare property down the road, you all can stay there. Don’t worry Y/N I’ll make sure they won’t live to see tomorrow.” He said before you threw him into a hug. You cried knowing your family was safe, but also at the thought of losing all you’ve worked for. Your life was in that small space and it was all gone or severely broken, and your heart was too.

“C’mon, I’ll send some men to come help them. I’ll take you to the shop, and you’ll stay there until I get back ok?” He said. You nodded and followed him to the shop, this time in a much more sullen tone.

He immediately called everyone into the meeting room and he let you sit by Polly as he spoke. You quietly told her what happened and she sighed. The rest of them you had assumed liked you after saving their sisters life and all, and so they all got ready, cocking their guns and putting on their razor caps. Ada came over to you with tears in her eyes, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh Y/N I’m so sorry to have dragged you into this.” She said. You smiled and reassured her she wasn’t at fault. As the night drug on, you discussed your new living situation and were alerted by some of Tommys men that your parents were safe. You cried with relief, sitting in the meeting room shakily. Polly came in a moment later, with some tea, knowing you needed something to calm your nerves.

“Thanks.” You said, feeling the hot steam against your lips.

“No problem. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be back. He always is.” She said staring out at the night sky through the dusty window.

You nodded, sitting there as you let your mind wander. You looked up after a long while, your eyes growing heavy, and decided to concentrate on the clock. It was almost midnight.

Before your mind could race to where your new love interest could be, he thankfully came through the doors with his brothers, as they hollered and sat their weapons down.

You stood up slowly, as you saw Tommy walk towards you. He had a cut on his forehead and a slightly busted lip.

He said nothing as he came to you, the adrenaline from the night coursing through him as he embraced you, catching you by surprise. He then kissed you, his lip burning slightly as he kissed you, but nevertheless he continued. When he stopped, you stood there gazing into his eyes.

“They’re gone. You don’t have to worry now.” He said. You nodded and hugged him again, feeling him planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Well are you going to invite her over or are you going to fuck in the lobby?” Arthur shouted as John and the others laughed. Tommy turned around slightly and gave him a look and then turned back to you.

“Would you like to go now?” He asked.

Your cheeks heated up at his brothers remarks, but you decided to take him up on the offer. “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do.” You said, and before you knew it you where being led out to his car and driven to his house, nervously awaiting what was to come. As soon as you got to his estate, he led you through on a tour. Your eyes widened at the grandiosity of the place. You had rarely seen a place like this, only imagining them in fairytales. You looked around as he led you through, stopping lastly at the main bedroom which you assumed was his.

You had just enough time to revel at the room before he kissed you again, making you giggle slightly as he snaked his arms around your waist and nipped at your neck. As he worked his way down, he undid your dress, letting it slip down your frame as he went to lie back on the bed. You hesitantly undid his shirt and pants, slipping them off as he watched you.

“Are you sure you want to?” He asked.

“Never been so sure in my life...” You said before straddling his waist. He smirked, and kissed you as you continued your movements making him fall for you more with each second that passed.

After your night together, you decided a couple of days later on another date, more-so like a re-do since you both were more drawn to each other. As time went on, you became closer with his family, while yours acclimated to their new temporary surroundings. And over the upcoming weeks you managed to land a job with them, helping you to earn some money and helping your parents to get a new vardo to get them back on their feet. After a couple of months you had been able to attend more of the family meetings, after deciding to stay at Tommy’s place instead of travelling. And after some odd weeks later, a new gang problem arose, giving you that same fearful feeling that you had some many months ago. Before heading out, tommy cocked his gun and checked the bullets making sure each one was accounted for, and walked past you with his brothers towards the door.

“Hey you forgot something...” You said smirking as he smiled and walked towards you kissing you.

“No more tea parties alright? You be careful okay?” You said. He chuckled and winked at you before heading out the door, going out to deal with death and destruction once again. As much as you hated him being gone, you loved when he came back, and his family did too of course, especially since you’ve made him a bit nicer. As you walked back to your desk and picked up where you left of with your work, you smiled, knowing you made the right choice and took the right chances.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma

#katiesanons #katiesrequests #katiesfics #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oneshots

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littlemisswriter · 3 years

Text

Saving London - Part 1

Summary:

What if the Frye twins never grew up to be assassins, yet to be working men and women in the city of London along with the others? What if Lily had been the only assassin to respond to Henry Green's plead for help? And what if she recruits the twins to work alongside her to stop the oppression and fight against Templars?

[Here is my promised written imagine, there will be more parts soon so don’t worry! Let me know if you like it; I am trying new concepts around the Syndicate storyline, types of AU’s that I don’t see much in this fandom, let alone this game specifically! So hope you all enjoy :)]

Society had been they way it had always been for the last hundred years. A biased dictatorship working in favour of their own gain and allowing those under them to indulge in nothing but their scraps. The world was a large place, with London in the very centre.

The blue skies above were being met with black hazes from the factories below, and those situated in those said factories were not faring any better. Day in, day out were workers worn to the bone. Hands calloused and dirty from maintaining the machines that built the technologies around them. Men spent most time away from home, doing their best to support families in spite of their decreasing health. Though it had not only been men that were subjected to this environment, but women and children as well.

Morally it had been frowned upon to have such a vast amount of workers, but business wise… those who held power could get away with whatever they wanted. Well, had been able to get away with what they wanted. Times were changing, people were oppressed, and a certain underground gang had taken it upon themselves to answer London’s calls.

Outside the factory walls in Southwark, the sun had begun to descend behind the horizon; the chilly night air settling in for those still out and about on the streets. But for those in the factory, the temperature had been nothing less of humid and uncomfortable. Those workers that kept away with their tasks had been there for hours, body’s aching and spirits broken, yet still desperate to cling onto what little pay they could get.

Among those had been a particular young man, muscles built deeply by his youthful ability to complete his tasks and those around in need of help. He had built up a sweat, resulting in the first few buttons of his shirt being undone to provide some form of air to his skin. His hair had been hard to maintain on its own, strands consistent to fall upon his forehead and block his view irritatingly, so he simply kept it slick back with the help of his newsboy cap. “Oi Jacob!”

The call of his name had distracted him momentarily, hands gripping around the broom as he watched an older worker approach him cautiously. His eyebrow raised.

“What is it, Tommy?” Taking a proper stand with a lean on his elbow and hand to his waist, he stood waiting for the chap to spit out whatever sat on his tongue. Tommy pointed behind him and Jacob’s gaze followed.

“Little Charlie seems tired, he does. Poor lad can’t barely keep his eyes open.” The mention of the young boy had Jacob’s brows furrow in concern, their eyes landing to watch the child struggle to pick up a basket from the corner. Tommy had not spoken a tale, the boy’s legs weak as he struggled to carry his own weight, and face red from exhaustion of working more than half the day. “Do you think you could ‘elp? I know it’s a bother to ask-”

He was interrupted by a raise of Jacob’s hand and a quick reassuringly smile. “No bother.” The older man sighed in relief, hands rubbing together stressfully as the lines on his face etched a smile to replicate.

“Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” The thought given a moment to linger at the consequences of those if Jacob were not there to aid them. It was chilling, and most unwelcome.

The broom was leant on the wall he found it, forgotten as Jacob made way quickly over to help the young boy. His pace was quick, but not quick enough as Charlie’s knees gave out and he slipped down to the floor. Jacob’s eyes widened as he came by him, hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Charlie?” The young boy could only nod and wipe his elbow out from under his nose, as if to hold back tears.

“I’m just tired, sir.” As would be expected.

“Jacob,” he corrected, not fond of the title from a boy he knew relatively well, “and don’t worry. Go take a rest out of sight, and I’ll take care of this.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered in relief, offering only an eager nod. But before either could move, they had been called. And not kindly in the slightest.

“You two!” A pair of Blighters had caught the workers dawdling, meaning now a confrontation was imminent. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Impulsively, Jacob stood with furrowed brows, his arm outstretched to the boy behind him as he acted as a barrier.

“I made the mistake, not the boy. I was about to rectify-”

“Stop your babbling, boy!” Jacob was shoved back, his footing catching his fall easily as he narrowed his eyes up to the guards. “What I see is two slackers! And you know what happens to slackers?” The brute standing behind the accuser had grinned evilly, knuckles cracking as he came forward. Slight panic rose through Jacob as he once again placed himself between Charlie and danger.

“I’ll take punishment, whatever it is. Just let the boy go.” A mere cackle came his response as the two made ground towards them.

“Boss told us to give a thrashing to those sitting idle.” As he would, seeing as that man had been the least compassionate foreman Jacob had ever come across. His only concern was himself and everything that he reflected. Ministered beatings had not been uncommon here, yet nobody seemed to adjust to the mistreatment or became brave enough to stop them.

The scene had many eyes turn, some stopping to witness the horror of the Blighters. Though nobody moved. Most had uttered a few courageous words before, but nothing drastic to make a change. They all knew their place, as uncomfortable as the reality of it was. And the truth was, if you wanted to eat, you did as you were told and took what was given to you.

Jacob stepped back a few paces, keeping Charlie hidden well behind him as he did his best to appear brave. If anybody had a shot at countering hits and supplying their own, it was Jacob. But that had not meant it was going to be any less brutal.

They came closer, almost cornering the man as the boy did nothing but whimper behind him; all in all, they had felt helpless. But yet… it appeared fate had other plans.

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, I’ll-”

A commotion could suddenly be heard from higher up, stilling the Blighters as they bore witness to yells and thumps at the top of the factory. It had not sounded too promising, especially when no one knew whose yells they belonged to and why they were suddenly prominent. Then, a body came tumbling down to the bottom floor, everyone gasping in horror as it lay limp and lifeless for everyone to see.

Jacob blinked back profusely, glancing back to Charlie before allowing himself to recognize exactly who lay dead before him.

The foreman. His throat continuously bleeding out as well as two stab marks to his chest. A sight that most may and did feel faint from. And so, panic ensured as the workers let down their tasks easily and made way for escape. Charlie had been one to catch himself in the mass of the crowd, yet Jacob’s feet were planted firmly to the ground. It was a horrible sight, yes, but he was also oddly intrigued as to what was going on.

“Oh shit!” The brute muttering, looking over to his partner before hesitantly making way to the body. Though he did not get far when a figure had abruptly dropped done next to the man. They had been covered head to toe in robes, their identity concealed with a hood though a belt masked with weapons had been on display for all to see.

A lump caught in Jacob’s throat as he and the few others that still remained quickly pieced together that whoever was under those robes had been the culprit to the foreman’s death. And rightly so, ruminating on the behaviour that led the man to his own demise.

“Who the hell are you? What have you done?” The figure stood straight, turning to face what appeared to be the last remaining Blighters in the factory. It was quiet, too quiet, and that had sent up an unnerving chill through their spines.

“Now, that is not a polite way to speak, is it?” The voice was female, a surprising notion in on itself. But yet it had been cocky, the calm demeanour of someone having just murdered another was terrifying. And her dry laugh that followed after had both Blighters step back in hesitance. “This man is dead,” she pointed to the body, allowing Jacob to capture a look at a glistening blade attached to her forearm. He swallowed back harshly.

“You’re the dead man!” The shorter Blighter had been snapped back into anger as the stranger merely found humour in his boss’s death. He yanked a blade from his pocket and charged at the woman, all bodies tensing as they waited for the clash. Though she had easily ducked his swing, her speed impeccable as she twisted the same arm intended for harm back behind his back. A crack had been heard, the Blighter yelling in agony as she took his own blade and ended him with it.

No sweat was broken, neither had her spirit. As if she was simply strolling through a park with infinite time on her hands. The brute had been next, fighting back resistance as he too took charge. His hits were hard, the man built on nothing but sheer muscle and height. Which left his weak spot open, something she took great advantage of.

A slip between his legs and a kick to the back of his leg brought him to his knees. He swung against vigorously, though his attempts had been in vain as she used her height advantage to slide the very same blade on her wrist down into his neck.

Blood came and sept through as he lay limp in it, all threatening seeming to disappear as now stood the workers and the dangerous stranger. She looked around, taking a moment to ensure that the factory had been completely wiped out of all Blighters before echoing a large whistle. It was a call, and soon enough, as if waiting for the signal, a handful of Rooks had stepped into the building and immediately made claim.

“What in the…” Jacob could not fathom what was happening, or how it had actually been done. Who was the stranger? Why go to all the trouble for a factory in Southwark? Why had he been more intrigued than fearful of it all?

“My fellow companions!” The stranger began, finding refuge on a crate as she stood centre of attention to all those around. “I know you may be confused, and even frightened, but fear not! We are not here to hurt you or any others that do not belong to the Blighter gang!” Precuring the safety and wellbeing of those who had feared had them relax, but not entirely. Their bodies still tense and hesitant as they gathered around.

Jacob had been one to come closer, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in the small surrounding crowd. His brows furrowed as he kept all attention to the stranger.

She looked around her, nodding to her Rooks before gently pulling her hood back. It was if his heart had stopped as he first lay eyes on the woman. She had been beautiful, no doubt about it. Yet she was foreign, dressed to what society would deem inappropriate for women. She was cocky and dangerous, a small grin still etched to the corner of her mouth as she spoke to those openly around her. “My name is Lily Harvard, and these here are my Rooks!” Arms out wide as she gestured to the green coated gang surrounding. “I am here to make you all an offer. To help us take down the Blighters in all boroughs and liberate London back to its people!”

An honourable quest yet a large ask. She had taken employment from those under an authority that much less cared about the health and wellbeing of its workers. But did not come empty handed.

“Join me! Join the Rooks!” Some had already taken to the idea, a few more Rooks entering with spare jackets to pass to those that were eager to be invested in something, and others that did not want to be left stranded. “You do not have to do anything you do not wish, but bear in mind that you will be apart of something larger than yourselves! Help us destroys Crawford Starrick’s hold on this city, and we in turn will welcome you like family!”

The coaxing appeared to deter a few, those leaving subtly out of the eye of others though most stayed, agreeing to the terms and enlightened to be better looked after in this new emerging gang. Jacob had not peeped a word, his eyes still drawn to Lily as she looked happily to those around her. A nudge had suddenly caught his attention and a woman holding a green jacket extended it out to him. “You in, sunshine?”

Jacob took a moment, looking from the jacket to the Rook, to Lily, and back to the jacket. Well… it could not possibly be worse than working in this factory with little to no regard. Plus… redemption for him and those around him did sound quiet appealing.

“Why not?” The Rook offered him a toothy grin and chucked the jacket in his hands. The man grasping to the material before ridding his own jacket and replacing it.

It was the start of something better, and he couldn’t wait to tell Evie.

#assassins creed #jacob frye #fandom #assassins creed syndicate #assassin creed syndicate #evie frye #assassin's creed syndicate #frye twins #older jacob frye #ac syndicate #Jacob Frye gif #au #storyline #imagine

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

Text

We Sold Our Souls | Chloe

Read Beca's Chapter Here | Read on AO3 here

Summer 1985

The Diner on 10th and Jefferson was not an inhabitable establishment. The floor was once a glimmering white that had faded to a musty brown. You could see where the tables had been situated because underneath was still the original color- not the dingy, ketchup-stained mess. A window unit sputtered as it pulled in hot air and the sound of sheets of meat sizzled and popped on day-old grease.

There was flypaper tacked to the ceiling and they spun as the warm air shifted it. It wasn’t brown, not like the floor, it was black with squirming legs and tired wings. Chloe watched, sweat dripping from her nose, as one particularly large one tested his luck and failed.

The boombox in the corner crackled and competed with the sound of two number sevens being placed on the counter. The antenna was stretching to the sky and they only got a slight signal for KWBT, the best Rock music in the county.

Chloe perked up, her spine straightening as Brock Argent’s rumbling voice filled the small area behind the counter. She ignored the way the cook stared at her, sweat beading against his greasy forehead, as she shushed him and turned the dial. She knew what he was going to say, and he didn’t push any more than he already had.

She hadn’t stopped talking about ‘The Ramones’ New Album. It was advertised with neon yellow and orange posters all around town. No one could tell if it was from the record label or some die-hard fans that had too much time on their hands. Either way, everyone knew about it, and that everyone included Brock Argent and the KWBT team. They had made a big deal about getting their hands on a copy.

“Alright you crazy people, I know we’ve been teasing this one for a long while, but we’ve got a good one for you today!” Brock’s tone was so deep that it shook the upturned milk glasses on the counter. “Here’s Pet Cemetery by the Ramones. Some seriously creepy stuff!”

Chloe felt the greasy diner and the sharp scent of fry oil leave her all at once. The second the first guitar chord struck the airwaves she had fallen so contently into the melody. Joey Ramone’s deep growl hissed and churned and made her stomach feel like soup. Johnny pressed down hard on the guitar strings and Tommy backed him up with a solid beat on the drum kit.

She ignored the way the cook eyed her cautiously as the steaming food on the counter attracted one of the flies that the paper hadn’t attracted. He was growing impatient as the lead belted out words about pets with their ribs crushed and their hearts gnawed pulling from the dirt. It mirrored that horrible book by Stephen King, the one that the schools banned, and the PTA moms fussed about until their veins splattered.

Finally, the song faded out and Chloe gave a grateful smile to the man in front of her before palming the cold plates and taking them to the couple that sat in the back booth. The woman slathered her pile of fries with a generous helping of ketchup and the man seemed to hate the idea of eating altogether.

Chloe didn’t’ notice when the cook turned down the radio for the rest of her shift. She was sore from mopping and wiping down all of the tables that were still sticky despite how much elbow she put into it. He watched her mount her bike and flick on the light that dawned its front despite the sun not fully being down, before he backed out of the parking lot himself and left their second lives behind, at least for a few hours.

She was mostly tipped change today and it rattled in the pockets of her apron as she took the side streets back to their run-down home. It had been nice once- at least that’s what the pictures tacked to the stained green refrigerator portrayed.

She shoved cake into her face with her vibrant mother holding her close. They all looked so clean despite the mess of pastry. There was light in their eyes and sugar in their systems and the old polaroid was a constant reminder to Chloe of the way things had been. The way she wishes they were.

The thought pulled at the back of her throat as she slowed her bike when the front tire met the Mitchell’s driveway. It gave her just enough speed to get over the dip on her own and pull the old blue contraption next to the garage. She could sandwich it between the trashcan and the side of the house. No one would take it, not in their small, rundown town. She flicked off the front light, reveling in the darkness for a few moments.

It was never silent, not here, not this close to the front door where the screen kept the lightning bugs out but no sound in. Her three younger brothers were blasting the television, all of them with their noses pressed to the static screen as MacGyver got himself out of whatever situation he was thrown into.

But over that, she heard her parents.

Her mother and her stepfather screamed loud enough for the whole block to hear them. It made Chloe’s jaw ache- how much they hated each other. They lived together out of spite, and because the boys needed a good role model.

But Rick, Rick hated Chloe just as much as he hated her mother. She wasn’t his and that had ebbed some deep resentment in him that she didn’t understand, nor did she care to. Not as she snuck in through the front door and trudged to her room. She was careful to toe her shoes off by the door, despite the pungent smell the house admitted.

It was considered rude to track mud, though no one had vacuumed in months at this point. No one had changed the lights or addressed the water stains that browned the ceiling above them. There was food on the table, most of the time, and hot water in the lead pipes. So Rick was doing his job and from the sound of the screaming match, Lauren was not.

Chloe tuned it all out.

She focused on the rifts she had heard this afternoon at the diner, and the satisfaction she got when she pulled the jar from the back of her closet, behind her 45’s and an old rolled poster of the Bay City Rollers that she had scored at an old thrift store and hung because the colors were vibrant.

As soon as Chloe could, as soon as she blew out the candle on her cupcake for her 18th birthday in front of that stupid polaroid and that puke green appliance, she would leave this tiny town. She would leave her brothers, and the dirty carpet, and stupid Rick, and even Lauren.

She would meet Joey Ramone, they would get married and she would never have to hear muffled screams and broken glass again- not unless it was at a concert that she was playing.

There was a glass of water on the table in front of Chloe Beale, but she hadn’t reached for it. There was some sinister part of her that considered it a test; there wasn’t a pitcher to refill it or anything else on the stark white surface. Just one singular cup that was free of any blemishes and water pushed to the near brim.

She was on a sofa that matched the rest of the room, stark and unfeeling. There wasn’t personality here; other than her and that stupid taunting glass, there was nothing. It could have been the waiting area in a place that detailed cars, but it wasn’t. She didn’t’ know what it was and she didn’t’ know if the water was a test- so she left it.

Her boots were the blackest thing, sharp like the night, against the white carpet. She got the sinking feeling that she should have taken them off by the door, though the secretary that lead her in here hadn’t told her to do so. Chloe wasn’t a child, not anymore, and Chloe could make her own choices. Like taking a gulp of water to quench the dry heat in her throat or taking her shoes off.

Rick would have made her take her shoes off.

Rick had killed her mother when she was at a concert in Orlando. She had saved up to get the tickets and she had had a fun, normal, road trip with the girls. They ate terribly and broke down in Georgia where they baked in the heat and splurged on ice cream cones that turned into a soupy mess in a matter of seconds. Chloe was happy then, and she had the polaroid tacked up on the corner of her apartment.

Thought the lights had been shut off a few times, and she and Beca had to eat all the ice cream and leftover pizza, and milk each time they did fade away, she kept it there. Her stomach would ache and her brow would sweat but they would fall asleep on the floor and the picture of her last happy moment would gape down at her- not mocking, but reminding.

They saw the yellow tape when Beca pulled the Monza to the edge of her driveway. Chloe let the rubber tire hit the corner of the driveway first, just like she used to do with her second-hand bike. Beca protested as she pushed the door open and flung herself towards her own home. A cop that shadowed his eyes with a large cap grabbed her by the middle and stopped her.

“That’s my house!” She had shouted, letting herself be lowered to the wet grass. “What happened? That’s my house! That’s my house!”

It had stopped being her house a long time ago when her father died of cancer and her mother met Rick, the anesthesiologist with the calm temper and the two boys from a previous marriage, and the one son that they shared together.

Chloe had spent most of her free time in Beca’s room now, staring up at the posters that weren’t of the Bay City Rollers on the ceiling. They both laid close to one another and she had memorized the features of Metallica and Stix and Beca’s breathing patterns, and the way the Charvel rested in the corner, with its off-white color.

Beca’s mother always had dinner on the table and always had enough for all three of them. Beca’s mom was interesting and kind. She was still alive when the summer of 88’ came to an end. She hadn’t heard the gunshots but she had smelt the blood- she said she was a nurse and she knew the scent of decay anywhere.

Rick shot Chloe’s mom in the head while her back was to him, and Chloe had always said he was a coward. He killed the boys too, straight shots with a gun Lauren had purchased him for Christmas because his new hobby would be hunting. As far as Chloe knew, the only shots he fired were that day, and the last when he ever did tore up his throat and painted the wall behind him.

She should take her shoes off and drink some water while she waits and wishes for wine. The secretary told her that he was running late and that she was welcomed to anything. But she didn’t’ feel welcome to the water, and really, she should have taken her shoes off, because the carpet was pristine, and the bottom of her boots were anything but.

Winter 1994

Snow fell in thick, wet drops against the pavement. It had barely started but picked up by the time Chloe ascended the stairs of the venue and tracked down Beca. The girl looked ragged, worn down, and thick with sorrow. She was moving her tongue against the edge of a cigar she had sliced with the pocket knife clipped to her jeans.

The sickly-sweet scent of weed followed the sparking of a lighter and the cold breeze that edged the nearly empty street. She leaned against the side of the van, next to a sizeable dent that had been there when they purchased it. When we’re famous she had said this won’t matter and we’ll be able to afford a van that isn’t half-totaled.

Beca pulled in a hot breath of marijuana, the tip burning hot and fast. She pushed the smoke through her those and passed it to Chloe who took it wordlessly and revealed in the sour film that coated her tongue and her teeth and her throat. A few more of those and she would be able to forget the disaster of tonight.

“Maybe I should have gone into accounting,” Beca said.

“You hate math.”

“That wasn’t my point,”

“I know. I just think that If you want to go back in time and choose MIT over your garage in the winter you should pick something you like. Not math. You’re not even good at math.”

Beca frowned and snatched the joint back. She wedged it between her teeth and gave Chloe the finger, the tattoos against her knuckles catching the red glowing light of the sign that hung above them. It buzzed like the flies Chloe had always hated- for some reason, more than spiders and moths, but she couldn’t’ recall now.

“Aubrey would have had a million things decided by now, you know? I don’t’ even need to prompt the woman before she brings up Julliard. Next thing; she’s going to be bitching about her back hurting from carrying the band.”

Chloe laughed sadly at that because she knew it was something Aubrey would say with that docile fire in her eyes. But through all of this, Aubrey was the best bass player that she had ever met and Beca had the right voice for them- but none of them ever said it. None of them ever dared that she would be better suited to part her ax down and grip the microphone instead.

“Are you?”

“What?”

She hadn’t noticed Beca was staring at her expectantly. Not only holding out the blunt, which she took and sandwiched between her lips, but with a question. Beca’s stare was dark, shaded in crimson, and glazed over because something was hitting; be the alcohol that she had consumed during the show or the slow crossfade that was humming happily through her now.

“Are you ready to give up?”

“Beca, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She swallowed hard and tried to dull the pain of the flames at her throat. Red and hot and a lot like the stories plastered on the news not too long ago. Her stomach felt fuzzy and her brain did too and she suddenly felt like following Beca out here was a bad idea. A terrible idea, really.

Chloe let the end of the roll hit the ground. There was no need to stomp it out. The color faded away in the puddle of dingy water that had collected as they talked. She didn’t’ mind the cool embrace of the large drops that felt more like snow and stung like an insect bite. It kept her steady and grounded.

“I heard what you asked, and I told you this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Chloe sniffed, “I don’t’ care how long it takes to get there. It’s me and you, kid.”

Beca’s clouded stare softened, and she laughed loudly because at this point- standing in the rain, the two of them, she didn’t’ know if they had much longer at all. Not as a band, not as friends, not as that odd drunken mess they escalated to when they weren’t.

The scent of weed mixed with the wet odor of Portland and beer. Chloe curled her fingers around Beca’s, both cold and clammy, and the gesture hurt. It stung the bandages wrapped around Beca’s fingers and hummed at the pain in the back of Chloe’s head, where she figured a scar would be one day.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #bechloe fic rec #Bechloe fanfiction #pitch perfect #Pitch Perfect Fanfiction

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lnterjection · 3 years

Text

gods of red skies (of this world to comprise)

Based on @quaranmine‘s post “that meme where the FBI shows up at your house because you know too much except it’s DreamXD and Ranboo being the only person who knows what an end portal is,” but I make it angsty.

-----

“And here’s our table,” Phil said, and Ranboo’s jaw dropped in such standard enderman fashion he would have been ashamed, if he weren’t so preoccupied with the sight in front of him.

Slowly, he took a step forward. Leaned over and traced a finger across the pale, bumpy endstone, its tiny craters and rivers of raised ridges. It had been so long since he felt endstone beneath his skin.

The empty sockets stare back into him, deep cyans and swirls of black. You’re here, they seem to whisper. We’ve missed you.

“It’s a cool table, but I think this is a bit of an overreaction,” he heard Techno whisper behind him. “Phil, what do we - uh...”

“Do you - do you know what that is?” Ranboo asked. He struggled to keep the awe from his voice.

Phil glanced over his shoulders with a bewildered expression. “No?” he said, wings slowly fanning out. “What do you mean?”

“It’s-” Ranboo hesitated, taking a step back. Should he tell them? Should - should anyone in this cursed world have that sort of power? Wouldn’t that lead to more sides, more pointless statuses of power to fight over?

He made a split second decision.

“Um, nevermind,” he said. “I forgot.”

The lie came so easily. Ranboo internally winced at how familiar his muscles were with the phrase.

Techno eyes him, pupils narrowing, but he doesn’t comment. Phil gives them both a cheery smile and claps his hands in a neat, smooth motion, effectively shutting down the line of conversation.

“So!” he said. “Anarchy!”

Ranboo nodded along, tried not to be too weird (or well, weirder than he must already seem to them), and that was that.

Everything was freezing - his crystalized bed that felt more like ice than wool, his creaking, ramshackle roof with scatterings of icicles that dripped frost and cold, the way every muscle of his body felt like it was contracting into a ball of sharp diamond.

Ranboo couldn’t complain, though. He had a place to live. He was welcome here, which was so much more than what he deserved after everything he’s done.

He wasn’t going to freeze to death. Worse case scenario, he takes his blanket and hides under his bed. He’ll be fine. Fine.

His chattering teeth and rapidly shivering body certainly seemed to disagree with him.

Ranboo tried to draw in a clattering breath. The winds picked up, slicing every exposed inch of skin with an unforgiving glacier.

At least it’s not snowing, he thought weakly.

And then, through the screeching winds and enveloping blindness of night, he heard it.

There’s something crunching, outside the fences that made up his home. Ranboo blinked slowly, wondering if he’s finally gone off the deep end. If that last tether to sanity which his mind so desperately clung to was finally slipping away, and this was the moment he succumbed to that relentless war of the mind, never to resurface again.

For a terrible, traitorous moment, Ranboo hoped that it was Phil or Techno, here to invite him into their house of warmth, a sign of friendship or at least care, after he’d been invited into their anarchist group (which wasn’t taking sides, they just didn’t want to be ruled, was that so bad?).

“Not much of a house, is it?”

And like an arrow to his heart, that hope was promptly smashed to pieces.

“Shut up” Ranboo gritted out to the figure that was no doubt leering over him with that stupid smily mask and stupid smug voice. “You’re just jealous you don’t even have one.”

His mind scrambled around desperately as he suppressed a terrified scream. Is this his mind again? But that voice doesn’t show up outside the panic room, or does it? What does he know, really?

Was this actually Dream, here to kill him? To take revenge on for destroying the community house? Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to drag his face away from the swath of blankets that he was clinging to, but he could hear the whine of the fence gates swinging. Something snapping shut in place.

Dream was definitely here, unless Ranboo had, indeed, well and truly lost it. Which was a likely possibility.

Dream, what was Dream doing all the way out here? And why now, of all times, did Ranboo decide to finally grow a spine?

Well, either he was hallucinating big time, or Dream was here to kill him. Either way, it’s not like anything he did will matter.

“I have a house,” Dream said, sounding mildly affronted. “Now, this pathetic excuse of a cattle pen certainly can’t be called one.”

“Just shut up and kill me already, Dream,” Ranboo yelled. His voice was muffled and thrown about by the wind, but it echoed through his bones nonetheless, and this was gratifying in some horrifying way because either way it’s not like what he’ll say will make any difference. “What, are you here to finally gloat over me too? Found a different target than Tommy, huh? Just can’t find a better use of your time than torturing teenagers-”

“What? Woah, I am not Dream,” Dream said, and Ranboo took a moment to process this information.

“What?”

He finally looks up, squinting through the darkness and the biting way the winds attacked his eyes.

The person that had his arms cross in front of him looked like a carbon copy of Dream, only with a pale blue hoodie instead of the usual lime green one.

“Just because you’ve put on a different outfit doesn’t mean you’ve changed who you are,” Ranboo snapped through chatters. “Fuck off or kill me, Dream. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I told you, I’m not Dream,” was the reply. “Check your communicator.”

Ranboo, slowly, drew out the device and glanced at the pale, glowing screen.

DreamXD whispers to you: I’m here.

“Really reassuring,” Ranboo said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the nice ones?” ‘DreamXD’ asked. “I thought you had manners, or something like that.”

“Since when have manners ever helped me?” Ranboo bites, suddenly feeling something sullen draw his stomach down. Bittering clung to every word. “It’s like nothing around here gets done without violence.”

“That’s not my problem.” DreamXD made some shrugging motion, slowly turning his shoulders in an unsteady fashion like he was just getting used to moving his body. “I’m just here to...”

Ranboo flinched as a glimmering stick appeared in DreamXD’s hand. He recognized the telltale sheen of glowing enchantments, but that shouldn't be possible because you can’t enchant sticks.

Dream, or DreamXD, or Not Dream, whatever the fuck he was - waved his glowing stick above him in what Ranboo assumed was supposed to be a menacing manner. He looked mostly like a deranged serial killer, which was, concerningly, also an apt description for the actual Dream.

“I need to make an alteration to your book,” he said. “Hand it over.”

Ranboo stared at him for a long, drawn moment. His mind was blank, unresponsive, why would he want the memory book-

And then, his memory book was in the other entity’s hands, and Ranboo began yelling again.

“Give it back!” He lunged forward, but DreamXD teleported to the side and slammed his fist down on Ranboo’s back. He hit a faceful of snow and dirt, and a pained whine escaped his throat as the heel of a boot dug into his neck.

Everything hurt. His back is now throbbing. Ranboo suppressed a sob as he heard the telltale sound of pages flapping wildly in the wind - and then the sound of ripping paper, grating against every bone of his body.

Again - no, this couldn’t be happening again, why is this happening again, he was so careful and he hadn’t done anything and surely he had been good this time, hadn’t he?

His mind only just seemed to process what was happening. His memory book - his memory - was being stolen, torn, violated yet again and this time Ranboo could do nothing but listen and cry into the cold, gritty dirt while his neck is on the verge of snapping and what did he do?

He just wanted peace. He just wanted to be loved - not even loved, to just be left alone. To live without constant fear of pain or death or someone destroying everything he held dear. Was that so much to ask for?

Yes, a part of his mind whispered. You blew up the community house. You betrayed L’Manberg. You didn’t even have the spine to tell Techno and Phil, your new allies, what the end portal is. They welcome you onto their land and group and you repay them with more hidden secrets? How else will you betray everyone?

Everything part of him was burning. Ranboo wanted to slice and strip off all his skin, to submerge himself in freezing cold water and close his eyes and not have to worry about any of this anymore and why did he want all of that so much-

“There we go,” the voice above him suddenly said, and Ranboo made a choked noise as something hard kicked deep into his side. He tumbled across the floor with a few soft crunches before going limp, body splayed at unnatural angles that twisted knots around all his muscles. His throat felt more parched than desert sands, scraped raw and bloody.

Something thudded in front of him, and Ranboo somehow had the strength to claw himself over through a filmy, blotched vision and drag his memory book back into his embrace. There were pages missing, ripped from the spine in jagged chunks like an unfinished puzzle shredded apart from frustration.

He choked again as a hand closed around his neck and dragged him up and something sharp and flaming jabbed into his chest.

A coarse sleeve muffled his wailing scream.

This pain was worse, so much worse, worse than the wither skulls and being dunked in water and all the stabs and slices he’s ever endured combined, his insides were burning and burning and on fire and covered in lava and Ranboo thought for a few fleeting moment that he would combust into sheer nothingness and he wanted to forget, forget why am I still here forget everything please I don’t want to be here-

“There we go,” the voice, that Dream voice, said, and it sounded so sickeningly like Dream but also not at all, because whereas Dream‘s voice always held a demeaning smugness about him this one had nothing but cold indifference, and Ranboo wasn’t sure which was worse but he couldn’t focus to think anyway because his entire world was red and white and burning and what the fuck was that stick enchanted with-

At some point, the pressure stopped. It faded away increments, and all Ranboo could comprehend was that eventually, as his mind flopped away from the shelter of nothingness, he was on the ground again and Dream was above him and everything was horribly, horribly silent.

Why, he wanted to scream again to the howling winds, but his throat was spent and dead and he couldn’t move or do anything except lie there and spasm erratically like a dying animal with its guts already pooling across the stiff, blue grass.

What did I do why is this happening please I’m so sorry I’m so sorry it’s all my fault please stop I don’t want to die-

“Let this be a warning,” the voice said in a smooth, terribly indifferent way. “If you write down what happened here, or about that end portal, I assure you that things will get much, much worse. And if you tell anyone, anyone else even a hint of what that portal is-”

Ranboo couldn’t even flinch as something cold pressed against his throat, as much as his mind leaped at the feeling.

“I guarantee you will never see the light of day again.”

Was this what it had all been about? The portal? That he was being punished for his origins after all, for having the - the knowledge itself? For having the power to utilize it, even if he never would?

“You really are Dream, aren’t you,” Ranboo rasped. He creaked his neck up to stare blankly into that pearly white mask. Every part of him, from his screaming body to his scattered, twisting thoughts felt weighted with magma, smoldering in its own ruins.

Dream shrugged, a bit faster this time, and disappeared in a shower of flaking purple particles that drifted around like the snow that had, during some part of all this, began to fall.

His eyes stung. His entire face was covered in tears, sharp daggers flicking the skin across with every movement. Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to care. He cradled his cold, crumpled memory book to his chest and knew that, as much as he hoped it was, this was not just a nightmare. Not in a world like this.

-----

Read on Ao3 here.

#ranboo #dream #dream smp #dreamxd #technoblade #philza #dream smp fanfiction #fanfiction #dsmp #dsmp lore #minecraft #mcyt #interject fanfic

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ithebookhoarder · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11: A New Equilibrium. (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Masterlist:

Also available on AO3:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

----------

Life adopted an unusual but steady rhythm the following weeks after the mens return home both in and out of Watery Lane.

Business was booming again, with the Shelbys at the helm. Men, all eager to enjoy the spoils of life back home in the city, eagerly filled the shop day after day, money in hand and bets ready to be placed.

There was something celebratory about it all. About seeing the hope in mens eyes as they’d handed over their bets. About hoping their luck had changed, even in most cases it hadn’t. Still, every win was significant as the staff handed over the winnings with a happy grin and handshake.

The staff in the shop felt similarly. Many hadn’t seen one another since the start of the war, having been assigned to various regiments. For those men, to be reunited again was something they’d been dreaming of. There were cheers and hugs as they’d arrived their first day back, laying eyes on the lucky souls who’d returned.

Not everyone had been so lucky, as the vacant desks reminded them. Of course, there were plans to find people to replace their positions but it was obvious it would be no small feat. There may have been hundreds of men desperate for work, but none of them would be those brave souls who had perished in France, all in the name of king and country.

Still, everyone did their best not to dwell, as was the way of life in Birmingham.

The Shelbys, in particular, had had a lot to catch up on. Four years worth of stories and news was quite a lot, even with the letters they’d been writing back and forth.

For example, Evie told them all about her schooling, and the fact she’d managed to secure a prefect badge for the final year. She couldn’t help but beam as she saw the pride swell in her father’s face - even if John and Arthur laughed themselves sick at the thought.

“A Shelby prefect? Ha! Now I have heard it all.”

She paid them no mind, finding it a little funny herself. At least she gave them something to laugh about, considering the bleak stories they’d shared. Granted, they made a valiant effort to try to liven them up, with the odd joke or two but even that couldn’t mask the death and horror of war, written all over their faces. Finally, something the Shelby smile couldn’t hide.

It was the same look Evie saw in John’s eyes when she went with him to visit Martha’s grave. They’d chosen to bury her in the cemetery just outside of the city, knowing she would have liked the fresh air, and rolling green fields around them, full of flowers. Evie had been to visit many times during the war, using it as a chance to escape when the house and the people in it had become too much.

She’d often sit and speak to Martha, telling her about what John had written in his latest letter, or even bringing her newborn child to see her. Evie knew Martha would have liked that, to see for herself that they were alright. She also knew Martha was probably happy to see John here as well, to know he was back in the city and safe.

So, she pointed him to the grave and left him to talk privately, knowing he probably had a lot to say. Four years was a long time after all.

There were other small changes too, since John, Arthur and Tommy had returned. The fact people tipped their caps at Evie when they saw her in the street - police included - was enough to make her falter. She’d hadn’t noticed it these past years, or if she had it had never been repeated enough to spark her attention.

It was as if the whole city knew the Shelby men were back. As if, the whole city was watching. Waiting.

Waiting for what?

It was an odd feeling. One Evie was quick to bury. No matter what Polly may have said had she known, there was too much to be happy about to let something as trivial as a premonition ruin it.

What good was superstition anyway? It was all rubbish.

Wasn’t it?

——

Evie should have learned a long time ago not to dismiss the idea of the supernatural, or that her aunt had a scary habit of being right.

She should have listened to her aunt’s warnings of premonitions. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t have been so startled when she awoke one night.

It had been weeks now, since her father and uncles had returned to Small Heath.

Evie bolted upright, panting as she tried to work out what had woken her. Normally, she was a deep sleeper. It took saucepans or someone jumping on her to wake her from a good night’s sleep. However, tonight, something had yanked her from unconsciousness.

Then she heard it again: the muffled screams from down the hall.

Evie felt her blood run cold. Never before had she heard a sound so full of pain and fear. It rattled her enough that she gasped, feeling a tremor run down her spine.

It wasn’t a ghost or some demon in the night. This wasn’t one of her books, after all. The sound was painstakingly real and loud, echoing through the wall behind her. Wait. That was her father’s wall? Did that mean-?

Evie was already out of bed.

She didn’t even think as she bolted for the door and towards her father’s room. Her trembling hand reached for the doorknob and threw it open, preparing herself to see some horrific scene or someone attacking him.

But that wasn’t what she saw.

Evie gasped at the sight.

“Dad?”

She assumed it was her father, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. All she could see was a pale figure thrashing about on the bed before her, illuminated by the thin strips of moonlight pouring in through the window.

Tangled up in his sheets, a thin sheen of sweat plastering his body, Tommy Shelby almost looked possessed. Sobs and half formed shouts escaped him as his limbs thrashed about, reaching for something Evie couldn’t see. Some invisible demon.

It terrified her.

What did she do? Her instinct was to rush to his side, to try and gently shake him awake.

“Dad?” she encouraged, trying and failing to release him from the mental torment he was trapped in. How had he done it, all those times before, when she’d been small and similarly afflicted?

Evie couldn’t remember. Her panic was too strong as it rang in her ears, muting out anything that wasn’t her father.

“Dad! Wake up! It’s ok,” she pleaded. “You’re home. You’re safe. Wake up.”

His eyes snapped open. A sudden cry escaped his lips, sending her staggering backwards in a panicked daze.

“Dad. Stop. It’s me,” Evie began.

However, her words clearly had no impact on him. He was a man in a trance, still gripped by whatever terror was still inside him as he flung out a hand onto the bedside cabinet and bolted upright.

His eyes whirled to her.

She then noticed what was in his hand… The gun was pointing directly at her.

She screamed.

It fired.

Her legs gave way as she dropped to the floor, covering her head as she felt herself go numb. The sound was deafening, the shot ringing in her ears as she stifled a sob of panic.

Plaster showered down on her head from the bullet hole above her.

The sound apparently woke her father from his terror induced haze as she heard the gun clatter to the ground. She felt it as he hurried to her side, cursing and trying to get a look at her trembling body. “Where are you hit?”

He repeated it again and again as he tried to get her to respond. It took a minute before Evie could even look at him, let alone move her tongue. “I’m fine… you didn’t hit me,” she stammered, pushing his hands off of her.

“Thank God,” he croaked, his tone suddenly sharp. “What the hell were you thinking?”

What had she been thinking? Better yet, what had he been thinking? Or feeling?

“You tried to shoot me?” Evie gasped. The moment finally seemed to reveal itself to her in painstaking detail. She didn’t know what to say. All she could do was repeat the statement over and over again. “You tried to shoot me. With a gun. A real gun.”

“I didn’t know it was you. I wouldn’t have fired if I’d known,” her father pleaded, his voice trembling as relief and remorse flooded through him. “Listen to me, Evie. Never come in here again if you hear me like that. Understood?”

Evie nodded dumbly. “But… I thought… I thought you were in trouble.”

By then, she heard footsteps and knew they were no longer alone. The gunshot would have been enough to wake the whole house. If any were brave enough to investigate it was different.

“Tommy?” That was Arthur’s voice, bellowing from the doorway. He looked almost comical in his pyjamas, gun in his hand, ready to fight. He would have been more menacing if his hair wasn’t poking up in all directions. “You alright?”

“Fine, Arthur. Go back to sleep.”

“I heard shots.” That was Ada, accompanied by a frantic looking Finn.

“It was a mistake. An accident, but it’s all good now, eh?”

Was it? Was it all good? Evie knew no one better at saving face than her father. She’d learned that a long time ago even if she had yet to perfect the art.

Somehow, he managed to settle everyone and send them back to the rooms in the time it took Evie to calm her breathing. She had only just regained control of her limbs when he re-appeared, slowly easing her up off of the cold floor.

This wasn’t right. She was supposed to be the one comforting him? Not the other way around.

Yet, despite shaking still and panting as if he’d been running a marathon, Tommy began to escort her over toward his bed.

“Evie. Look at me,” he soothed, brushing his hand through her hair and gripping her chin so that she couldn’t hide from him. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened but it was like I was floating, looking down at my body. I didn’t even feel the gun in my hand. You know I’d never hurt you, eh? Never.”

“I know,” Evie whispered. A small nod was the best she could offer as proof.

“It won’t happen again, alright? You have to stay out if I have another nightmare like that. I… I can’t control myself or my actions.”

“But-”

“Promise me,” he begged.

She’d never heard him so scared before in her life. His grip was tight on her, but not painful as he held her, held until she gave her word.

It was clearly all she could do to calm him.

“Y-Yes,” Evie gulped. “I promise.”

Thankfully, she saw the relief her answer gave to him. It was as if a literal weight had rolled off of his shoulders.

Finally, he finally seemed calmer. Able to let go of her and resume something of normalcy. It was why he switched back to his paternal nature, reaching past her to light the the lamp beside them a moment later. He then leant back, pulling the covers aside so that they could both clamber into the bed.

Evie wanted to laugh. The last time they’d done this, she’d been much smaller.

“Are you sure?”

Tommy nodded. “Would I offer it otherwise? We could both use some sleep and maybe with each other to protect us we’ll have no more interruptions.”

Evie hoped so.

“Alright then,” she shrugged, nestling her way under the covers and curling up beside him. If only the others could have seen it. Tommy Shelby. Sleeping with his daughter curled in his arms. It was enough to make even the hardest of men melt. “Just don’t hog the covers.”

“It’s my bed, thank you very much miss. Should I read you a story?”

“Don’t push it,” Evie sniggered, even if a small part of her was tempted to say yes. She was curious which one he’d have chosen.

However, as it turned out, it would have been pointless even if she had asked him. She’d only been in bed a moment before her eyes drooped closed. Apparently, coming off of such an adrenaline high was exhausting.

So it was, Evie fell asleep that night, nestled in her father’s arms. Even asleep, her grip was deathly tight as she clung to him, as if trying to prove he was safe beside her.

She only hoped when she opened her eyes in the morning, it remained true.

This was one dream she didn’t want to wake from.

——

Tommy was gone when she woke.

The empty space in the bed beside her told Evie that fact immediately as soon as she’d opened her eyes. However, her heart stopped racing as she noticed that along with her father, his boots were also gone - the boots her father normally wore when heading down to the muddy stable yards. His cap and coat was also missing.

He must have risen early and decided to go for a ride. It was the usual Shelby tonic for most troubles, after all. No war could change that. If anything, he’d probably missed the horses and the chance to ride them for fun, not as part of a cavalry charge or supply chain.

Evie calmed down immediately.

If Tommy had ever needed a ride, it was probably that morning. Evie wouldn’t forget the look of horror she’d seen on his face the night before. The ghosts that appeared to be weighing on his soul as he’d pulled that trigger and sent them plummeting into chaos.

It would take a while for all of them to adjust. Evie was under no illusions of that and last night had made it all too clear.

She sighed. She peeled back the covers, padding over toward the window and pulling the curtains back to let in the sunlight.

Everything looked pale and starker in the sunlight than it had during the night. Then again, she’d never been in her father’s room enough to notice. It was his space. His sanctuary. One, she had always been eager to respect. He’d done the same. It was only right and fair.

Well, until last night.

It felt uncomfortable to be there without him. It had been one thing to intrude last night when she’d thought he needed her. But now… now she felt like she was somewhere she didn’t belong. Like she was about to be caught and scolded.

Her uneasiness only grew as she turned back towards the door; the bullet hole directly in her eye-line.

There was no way to avoid it.

The hole in the wall was obvious. It was hard to miss, with the ripped wallpaper and plaster powder marking it for all to see.

Evie couldn’t bear to look. Then again, at least it could be filled and mended, hidden away beneath plaster and paint. If only all such scars could be fixed as easily.

With a soft sigh, she hurried out of the room and back to her own to dress, ready to face the day as best as possible.

——

“Morning.”

“Morning, Pol,” Evie mumbled, skipping her way down into the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see her aunt there, pottering about as if she owned the place. She was there most mornings, choosing to come early before the shop opened. Then again, she only lived a few doors away. It wasn’t as if she had far to travel.

“Breakfast’s on the table if you want it.”

Evie smiled gratefully, perching in a chair and beginning to fill her plate with toast and jam. It was her go-to in the mornings, and after last night, she didn’t know if she could stomach a fry up.

By now, Evie knew someone would have filled Polly in on what had happened last night. Even then, Evie wouldn’t put it past the woman for her to have found out through some supernatural means. She had an uncanny habit of doing that, always knowing what Evie was going to say before she even said it.

This morning was no exception as Polly made her way towards the now cooling pot of tea on the side and began to pour herself a cup. “I heard it was an exciting night last night.”

Evie chose not to say anything. She didn’t know where to begin and honestly, she was too tired to start what was sure to be a long conversation. All she wanted was to get to school and pretend like the night had never happened.

“You could say that.”

“I could. I could also say that, from what Ada told me, it sounds like your father gave you quite the fright.”

“I don’t know if nearly being shot by your father counts as simply ‘quite a fright’,” Evie grumbled, aggressively biting the edge off of her toast. “I didn’t… It’s not his fault, I know. It was stupid of me to think he could go off to war and come back the same person but I did. Alright? I did and now I don’t know what to do, Pol.”

Her aunt sighed. She gently perched herself next to Evie as she listened to her confession. She then pushed forward a bowl of porridge as an offering and made sure Evie ate some before talking.

“You’re not stupid, Evelyn Shelby. You’re a lot of things and stupid isn’t one of them, alright?” she began calmly. “Secondly, I think you were being hopeful before, when you thought about your father coming home. You were just a child, Evie. What did you expect? There was nothing wrong with hope. God knows we needed as much of it as we could get with everything happening over in that Hell Hole. Your father did an admirable job hiding any details from you in his letters, but I’ve heard people talk. I know the horrors he must have seen.”

Horrors that now continued to plague him, or so Evie suspected. Why else did he sleep with a gun so close by?

“You both did what you needed to survive, Evie. Now that everything’s changed, the war’s over and we’re trying to pick up the pieces of our lives,” Polly continued firmly, making it clear she didn’t want to hear her niece berating herself again any time soon. “There is no right or wrong way to feel. There isn’t a guide book on how we’re supposed to behave and act. It’s down to us to listen to one another. To protect each other and support our family."

She made it sound so easy. Evie didn’t even know where to start with such a request. Wasn’t it her need to make sure her father was ok that had got her into that mess last night? How was she supposed to support a man who wouldn’t even tell her the first thing about what he’d been through or how he felt?

Then again, it wasn’t exactly as if she was going to win an award anytime soon for her emotional honesty. She��d inherited that much from him.

Evie sighed. She bit her lip as she tried to control the urge to cry. “Will we ever get back to how we used to be, before all this?”

“I could read your leaves but even then it isn’t a guaranteed thing,” Polly exhaled, letting loose a plume of smoke from her lips. “There are somethings even the spirits can’t help with or answer. This is one of those things… There’s a darkness in men, Evie. They each have their own demons to fight, just as we women do too.”

“Demons?”

Was that was she was calling the nightmares plaguing her father and uncles? It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t they all done enough fighting for a lifetime. They didn’t deserve to come home and have to continue fighting for their sanity as a result of a stupid war they hadn’t even started in the first place. To have their choices on the battle field haunting them. To have their sins linger…

“Does - does that mean,” Evie stammered, “being a soldier, he must have killed. They all must have. Dad almost did last night… Is he a good man?”

It was the first time she’d ever uttered those words aloud, the first time she’d been brave enough to truly want an answer. Even after all she’d seen since she’d entered Watery Lane.

“War changes men. I don’t think there is a set definition of ‘good’ but I know he loves you. He loves you so much he was willing to go off to war and be shot at for you,” Polly sighed, squeezing the girl’s shoulder comfortingly. “That’s all I care about and all you need to know right now. Your father needs to handle all of this, his own way. Give him time.”

“I gave him four years, Pol,” Evie sighed. “How much more time am I supposed to give?”

Nevertheless, she knew better than to argue any further, so merely looked back down at her porridge and ate silently. It was only as she went to place the dish in the sink that she finally saw the man in question.

Her father was always a composed man, no matter how rushed he was. This morning was no exception. Despite the fact he was already running late, and hadn’t even done up his waistcoat yet, Tommy Shelby strolled about with utter composure.

“Morning all,” he greeted, reaching for the teapot and a cup. His chipper tone was completely at odds with his exhausted appearance. The bags alone under his eyes alone made him look almost ill, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“It lives,” Pol remarked, even if living was a bit optimistic for the state he was in. “Some of us have been up for hours, you know. John and Arthur are outside waiting to open. It was payday yesterday and half the town are banging on the doors.”

“What are you keeping the good people waiting for then?”

Polly rolled her eyes, murmuring something under her breath about Shelby men and curses as she stubbed out her cigarette and marched out of the room. It was time to unleash the masses and like a tidal wave, they would come, money in hand, bets ready to be placed.

Hence why Evie was more than eager to make her escape. The last thing she needed was to be trampled to death in a stampede of factory workers and drunkards. So she hastily grabbed her bag and coat off the hook by the door, slipping both on as she made her way past her father and toward the rear exit.

“See you later,” she gasped.

However, she hadn’t even made it to the door before she heard her name called. She paused, looking back over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“I want you home straight after school tonight,” Tommy began, his tone oddly calm. “Alright?”

Evie paused. “But I was going to go by the yard-”

“Well, change of plans,” Tommy interrupted, smiling as he tried to soothe the sting in his words. “Look, these streets have changed since the men came back. I don’t feel comfortable with you wandering out there on your own.”

“But I wouldn’t be alone, I’d be with Uncle Charley-”

“It’s not up for debate, Evie.” His tone was starting to grate on her nerves, as was his distance. It was like when she’d first joined them all over again, barely seeing him except when he needed something or wanted to check she was still breathing. “I mean it,” he repeated, watching her for her acceptance. “For the time being I want you to come home straight after school. If you want to go by the yard then one of us can take you, but I don’t want you out there alone.”

Maybe it was last night that had rattled him. Evie couldn’t be sure, but if coming home meant he would relax for even a moment then it was the least she could do. “Fine,” she conceded, rolling her eyes and stealing a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” he echoed, a smile cracking his otherwise cool expression. “Now go and show them other kids what Shelby brains are capable of, ey?"

“On it.”

——-

Ever since that night she’d avoided his room or even discussing anything related to their nighttime conflict. Of course, she still heard the odd moan, thud or cry. Only the odd night or so passed without a sound coming from her father’s room, but Evie wasn’t blind. She knew nothing had improved, even if he had found a temporary relief.

Evie, however, had found no such relief.

She was starting to go stir crazy in this house. It was now so loud, so crowded. Even though she wouldn’t have changed having them home for the world, she could have done without the noise and interruptions her father and uncles brought with them. Especially when she had work of her own to do that didn’t involve horses, betting or being a Blinder.

She’d resorted to studying at Polly’s sometimes after school. She’d also resorted to utilising the Garrison during the quieter periods, when she knew almost no patrons would be inside. Harry never minded, in fact he was rather supportive, letting her and Lara (when her brothers drove her mad) utilise the private room for her study sessions.

At least they both understood the struggle of a busy, testosterone fuelled house. They also understood the necessity of having female allies to get through it all.

Like now, Evie had strategically placed herself in the parlour where Polly just happened to be sprawled out by the fire, a book in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She felt somewhat bad, utilising Polly as a human shield like this, but considering it was that or failing her maths test, Evie would take her chances.

“All done, Pol!”

Her aunt was quick to appear over her shoulder, glancing over at the girl’s work for herself. It was only after she’d given her nod of approval that Evie closed the book and put it back in her satchel by the door.

“Lord only knows where you get yer brains from because it certainly isn’t your father.”

“What can I say?” Evie grinned, trying not to let the praise make her too giddy. It wasn’t often anyone ever received it in this house, let alone from someone so important - or at least in Evie’s eyes. Her Aunt was one of the people she most admired in the world, and one day she’d have the confidence to say it to her face. “I’m a natural. Must be the Shelby luck.”

“It’s something alright,” Polly smirked, lighting the cigarette she’d had perched between her lips. “At this rate you’ll sail right out of Birmingham and to the stars one day. There’ll be no stopping a smart woman like you, not in today’s world.”

Evie secretly hoped she was right, even if she felt guilty at the thought of sailing beyond the smoky horizons of Birmingham one day. “If we can now have a woman in Parliament then who knows what’s waiting for me out there?”

“Amen to that - but don’t let the others hear you saying it.” Polly smirked again before shaking her head as her name was bellowed from somewhere else in the house. “Now go on. Get out of here, I don’t need anymore Shelbys under my feet.”

Evie didn’t need to be told twice.

She was quick to gather her things and run them back upstairs, to her room. As usual, she placed them back by her bed, spreading the rest on her makeshift desk by the window. She loved that spot. It always managed to catch any sunshine the city offered, as well as offering a decent view of the houses nearby.

It was a great spot to think in. To write. To dream of a world beyond the smoky streets of Birmingham such as the one Polly had just described. As she argued, there was nothing wrong with her dreams and she knew it. It was more the guilt at thinking of needing anything other than what Evie had here that kept her quiet.

She knew her family would never see her desire for more as anything other than insulting. Or nonsense. So, she was content to keep such dreams to herself, mere scribbles in a journal. Mere stories she wrote by candlelight and stored in her desk, under lock and key.

Maybe one day she’d do more with them. Publishing them had always been a possibility, as had living them to the best of her abilities.

Why couldn’t she have daring adventures?

She was a women. Yes. She was young. Yes. But why should that stop her from doing anything?

Evie chuckled at the thought, hurrying back out onto the landing. She couldn’t see her family sharing her opinions, other than maybe Polly and Ada. She knew giving them her copy of Mary Wollenstonecraft had been a dangerous idea.

Speaking of dangerous, Evie couldn’t help but pause as she reached her father’s doorway, staring inside. She hadn’t dared step over the threshold since the other night and the ordeal she’d experienced inside. It wasn’t one either of them had been willing to repeat. Even now, she knew she should have turned away and kept walking.

However, curiosity had always been a weakness of hers.

Her eyes flickered toward the nightstand.

It was as if a siren’s call echoed from it, coaxing her in, coaxing her closer.

Before she knew it, she had strolled over, opening the drawer and staring inside. Just as she’d suspected, her father had left the gun tucked away, wrapped in a cloth and out of sight. He would never agree to throw it out entirely but at least they’d found a compromise. The bullets loose in the drawer were all the proof she needed that the previous threat had been eliminated. If he now woke up and tried to fire, the worst he’d be capable of was giving someone a fright.

The wall, and the family’s sanity, were most grateful not to be at risk anymore. Despite that realisation though, Evie felt a sudden urge ran through her to hold the gun.

She knew better than to touch it, even if a part longed to. To examine the item that had almost ended her life. To know what it felt like to hold one, to know what damage she could inflict upon an other if she so chose.

She shook her head.

She’d stayed long enough as it was.

Yet, as she went to close the draw, something caught her attention. Something she hadn’t expected to see.

A pipe?

Since when had her father moved from cigarettes to a pipe?

Evie paused, checking the coast was clear before she picked up said pipe and held it up to the light. Almost immediately her face dropped. She didn’t have to be an idiot to know what was inside wasn’t tobacco. In fact, it was a smell she knew uncomfortably well from the streets of her old home in London.

Opium.

It had almost been a pandemic in London. She’d heard enough talk of dens that had opened and of the roaring trade being run through the docks of the stuff. Her neighbours had always been ones for gossip and there had been more than enough of it to go around regarding the filthy stuff that appeared to be flooding the streets.

She’d heard what it did to those consumed by its enticing grip. She heard of their decay, physically and mentally - if they escaped being caught taking it and sentenced to prison.

She’d even witnessed it first hand. The amount of times she’d seen addicts, penniless and lining the streets as they begged for money to fund their habit, was heart breaking. But such was London. It was a place for both the elite and the tormented souls that comprised the lowest rungs of society.

Evie’s blood ran cold to think of such a substance in her house. To think of someone she loved taking it.

Anger flooded through her, followed by disappointment.

She didn’t know what to say or think. Instead, she chose the safest option for now, which was putting the pipe back inside the drawer and closing it shut. Out of sight, out of mind, or so she told herself, hurrying out of the room.

Confused was an understatement for how she felt right then. Did she say anything, even though that would prove she’d gone into his room?

Did she not mention what she’d seen and simply hope her father would confide in her?

Or, maybe he’d simply stop taking it?

It was official. Being a Shelby was too complicated. When had this become their life? Where had the care free, simpler version of their family gone? The family who had spent summers cloud watching, and made each other laugh so hard they peed. They were never perfect, but no family was.

But nightmares and opium? It was a world away from what Evie was used to.

She didn’t care what Polly had said. Giving it time wasn’t something she believed she could do. Not when it made her heart race and her palms sweat. First, she had been shot at and now her father was an opium addict…

She had to get out of the house - preferably before she lost her sanity.

——

She wasn’t the first Shelby to escape the house by covert means.

Evie had discovered that fact for herself some time ago, after catching her Aunt Ada doing just that one night.

Ada had often been off by herself, enjoying the higher sides of life in the city - or so she said after being caught by Evie one night, shimmying in the bathroom window. Apparently her window had jammed shut, leaving her caught off guard.

Of course, Evie hadn’t said anything to anyone, finding the whole thing rather hilarious as Ada tried to gracefully sneak in, her fancy dress and mud stained heels doing their best to give her away.

In exchange for mutual silence, they’d agreed a plan. From then on, Ada had been all too willing, assisting Evie in selecting something appropriate to wear. She’d also been the one to give her the first pair of proper heels she’d worn too.

“Here,” she’d smiled, offering a slightly worn navy pair of t-strap shoes. “They’re your size but I haven’t worn them in ages. They deserve to see some fun again.”

And, boy - had they seen some fun since then. It was that same fun Evie longed for then, staring out the window and sighing. Another night of house arrest was akin to torture, especially if there wouldn’t be anyone home with her anyway. Polly would be at her home, Arthur and the men would be down the Garrison, and she suspected Ada was going to be out herself. That only left her, and her father, if he didn’t have some last minute business to attend to. That, or if John and Arthur tag teamed him.

It was Saturday night. Was it truly so bad for her just to want to have some normality in her life, some excitement? Most people she knew would be out on the town… and now, so would she.

Her plan made, it had almost been too simple to get away with it. After all, Lara had been begging her for a night out on the town for weeks now. She’d called her friends when it had been quiet, and agreed the details as per their usual routine.

All she had to do now was sit back and wait - a task she didn’t realise would be quite so challenging. Not when every moment that passed made her all the more tense and itch with a need to escape the house and the chaos within it.

For example, the meeting that had been happening across the house was making Evie’s mood steadily worse. Even sat with Finn by the fire in the parlour, it was hard to miss a word being said.

They had been discussing business for the last hour, debating races coming up, issues with the office and staff, as well as a few skirmishes here and there. Apparently the Shelbys weren’t the only ones interested in expanding their business and takings now that the war was over.

“We’ll need their support if we want to keep that side of the territory,” her father explained, watching a very irate John and Arthur rile themselves up at the prospect of a fight. “We need to offer an alliance to the mill workers. They know what’s going on in that part of the city, as well as the fact they sit dangerously close to the Lees.”

“We can’t let those bastards snatch their support,” Arthur roared. “We need man power. Tom’s right. We need to send over an offer of peace.”

“I can do it.”

“You, Tom?” Arthur blinked. “It’s dangerous territory over by the Mill. Let one of the other lads deliver the message. It ain’t worth the trouble.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, eh?”

“Tom-”

Tommy shook his head, chuckling as he patted his older brother’s shoulder. “Come on, Arthur. I can take care of myself. Besides, there’s three Shelby brothers. Mum had her heir and John can be the spare if anything happens to me. What’s one less Shelby?"

The laughter from the group was instantaneous. Except for Evie. In fact, she could feel her blood boil as she turned and stormed from the doorway. Any guilt that had been lingering in her gut about her nocturnal plan had evaporated at the comment.

How dare he? How dare he prance about like some king of the castle? He’d swanned off for four years, leaving everyone and everything behind as if they had been a pair of old socks.

He could risk his life in the trenches?

He could disrespect the miracle of his survival, something so many had been deprived, by risking his life again now?

He could take opium whilst ordering her about? Lecturing her about self preservation?

The hypocrisy was nauseating.

Evie swallowed, her fists clenching as she ignored the urge to say something stupid and start a fight she knew she would never win. There was stubbornness and then there was Shelby stubbornness. Instead, she stormed down the hallway, heading towards the parlour.

It was official. If Tommy Shelby could do whatever the hell he wanted, then so could she.

#ithebookhoarder #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #thegangster'sdaughter

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crystalirises · 4 years

Text

Clouds

Hi guys! So, this is the second prompt for this week (which means I have to spin the wheel of angst again). So... this was inspired by @thesmpisonfire‘s post about possessive!Ghostbur. (I am so sorry if I butchered your idea ;-;)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724511

I also added the story below in case you don’t want to read it in ao3. Also, please take note of the trigger warnings as this isn’t exactly... just angst.

TW: Major Character Death and Poisoning (just... bad times...)

Fundy paced back and forth in front of the castle, his head downcast as he waited for his da— Ghostbur to arrive. When Phil had signed those papers, he felt a twinge of happiness he hadn’t felt in a long time. In his excitement, he had flung himself across the room, right into Eret’s arms. It felt nice. Eret had embraced him just as tightly, running a hand through his hair as they happily proclaimed him as their son. Fundy didn’t ever want to let go.

Still, he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the way Ghostbur watched from behind a corner. The dead man looked paler than usual, blood seeping from the wound on his chest as tears cascaded down his cheeks. Ghostbur had approached him after, throwing himself to the ground as he begged Fundy to spend at least one last day with him. Fundy had agreed out of guilt. The man was trying so hard to be the father he always wanted. One day. That’s all Wilbur wanted, and Fundy chose to give it to him.

“So— Fundy!” Fundy shivered, a chill running down his spine as Wilbur appeared from behind him. There was a picnic basket in his arms, though why Ghostbur chose for them to have a picnic together is beyond Fundy’s understanding. There was an excited grin on the ghost’s face, one Fundy swore he’s seen before. “I’ve packed us… well… you some lunch. Remember, the picnics we had together when you were younger? It… It seems like yesterday…”

Fundy winced, a memory of happier times flashing before his mind. “Oh. That’s great, Ghostbur… But, you’re not… You’re not going to just watch me eat, right?”

“Well, I thought we could spend the day catching up, you know? A-and you might get hungry at some point so I… You like salads, don’t you?” Fundy did not like salads, but… Ghostbur looked so nervous about this.

“Yeah. Yeah I like salads.”

They made their way to a far-off river, Ghostbur happily floating around Fundy as they got farther from New L’Manburg. Fundy could barely understand what his da— Ghostbur was saying. It felt as if the conversation would flicker into a new topic with every second they took to get to their destination. As Ghostbur appeared and disappeared from within his view, Fundy wondered if this one day would be enough for Ghostbur to move on.

“So… uh… Eret, huh?” Ghostbur’s voice was gravelly low, yet… it felt curious, not a single trace of malice or hurt in his tone.

“Yeah. Yeah. Eret. They’re great, you know?” Fundy looked over but Ghostbur was staring off into the sky. “Da— are you okay?”

“H-huh? O-of course, Fundy!” Ghostbur almost dropped the basket, raising his hands in a placating manner. “I just want what’s best for you, Fundy.”

Fundy smiled, “Thanks.”

They reached the edge of the river, Ghostbur insisting for Fundy to wait as he set up the picnic blanket. As he watched the ghost hurriedly unpack in a frenzied manner, Fundy drifted off into a memory. He recalled the sun on his face, his small hand tucked into a warm hold as his mother’s laughter floated down the field. His father would have finished setting up by the time they reached him, an immaculate smile on Wilbur’s face as he reached out his arms towards Fundy.

“Fundy? Fundy?” He jumped back into the present, a mockery of his father’s memory floating before him. A hint of concern flashed across the ghost’s face, his hand on Fundy’s cheek—

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking about… stuff.” He walked past him, his cheek cold from the touch. Ghostbur nodded, floating ahead of him as Fundy looked at the food Ghostbur had prepared.

“Sorry, I tried really hard to remember what you’re favorite food was but…” Fundy understood, Ghostbur could barely recall much ever since he died. He wasn’t surprised to know that he wasn’t as memorable as he wanted to be (despite being his son—)

No. Fundy was okay. He had Eret now, anyway.

The salad looked great, Fundy could hardly count the amount of berries Ghostbur must have use. The picnic mat was soft, the smell of sunshine and dirt pervading his senses as he half-heartedly listened to Ghostbur’s words. He looked at the salad, his stomach growling with hunger. He took a bite.

He choked, the taste bitter against his tongue. It was horrible. Well, that’s one thing Ghostbur didn’t have, Wilbur’s actual cooking skills. He wanted to stop at the first bite… but he didn’t want to make Ghostbur upset. He sighed, taking another spoonful of that horrid salad.

A few minutes passed, his head was beginning to pound. His whole body was shaking… the salad falling to the ground as a searing pain forced him to the ground. His stomach felt as if it was on fire— his vision blurring until all he could see was…

“I’m sorry, my son.”

Ghostbur’s hand was rubbing his back in a calming caress, as if placating him to peace.

“I tried. I really did. I want you to be happy, Fundy.”

Then why… Why was he suffering?

“When I found out, I was devastated.”

But he said it was fine—

“And really… Eret of all people… You chose the traitor over m— I’m not mad at you, Fundy.”

THEN WHY WAS HE IN PAIN?

“I love you. You’re my son, my boy! I couldn’t handle it, Fundy! I just can’t lose you!”

You lost me the day you chose Tommy and Tubbo over—

“I couldn’t have you calling them your father, you know? Eret… Eret doesn’t deserve it.”

As if you do?

“You’re my son, and I refuse to let them take you away from me! That’s why I— Shhhhh. Fundy, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

He didn’t want to die like this.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, okay? It’ll be over soon. Shush now.”

The last thing he feels is his father’s hand in his hair.

The clouds were splashed with a kaleidoscope of color, their outlines moving slowly across the sky. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, watching as the clouds disappeared into the darkness. And as the sun sets, he looks around until his gaze spots a lone figure nearby. A familiar lullaby gliding through the air, he knew this lullaby. He knew this man beside him. A smile formed on his face, his throat burning as he spoke.

“Dad?”

Ghostbur turned around, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Hello, son.”

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

Look, if I have to suffer nightmares from this I’m posting it.

So... yeah. Sorry if it sucks (I wrote this at like 10 cause I didn’t want this to haunt me in my sleep) or if it’s too dark. Not my usual style but I just really wanted to right it rn. So sorry if it’s too dark though ;-;

#fundy #wilbur soot #mcyt #I am scared #not gonna get a single ounce of sleep tonight

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saipng · 4 years

Text

me? write a frenrey one shot fanfic with them drunkenly playing truth or dare? it’s more likely than you think

Nights like these made it all worth it.

The lulling whir of the air conditioner kissed his flushed cheeks as the sound of dying laughter dissipated through the air. The noise of the streets outside the window and the quiet chatter of the TV filled the room instead, and the smell of home cooked food mixed with old cologne and alcohol seemed to cling to his very clothes. His eyes traced the long shadows cast in red, pink, and blue, painting the familiar scene in technicolors.

It was nights like these, Gordon thought, that made it all worth it.

Joshua was long asleep in his room, snuggled next to his favorite plush toy of a head crab that Bubby (lovingly) stitched together out of old scraps of clothing. Tommy arrived first, as was usual, tagging Sunkist along and letting her carry a bottle of wine between her teeth. Dr Coomer and Bubby came later, always together, always the same chorus of ‘Hello, Gordon!’s, always a big bright smile and a warm tingle in his heart. Darnold arrived late, later than he usually would if he were to come at all, but this time he brought his ‘strongest potions’ and Gordon was equal parts terrified and excited to try them out.

Benrey was already there by the time Gordon remembered him. He always simply appeared, but even that became routine at this point.

Gordon never invited any of them.

It was enough, he thought, that they would come over like this, with food and alcohol and maybe a DVD or a board game, and they would spend their time in peace and (relative) quiet. Having the company was enough.

Gordon smiled, sudden warmth spreading through his belly.

“Hey-Hey guys,”- He stuttered, trying to get up on his already slightly shaky feet, the attention of the room shifting towards him from the TV as The Science Team all turned their heads in unison.

“Woah- Um, okay. Creepy. Guys, do you wanna like- Hey guys, do you wanna play Truth or Dare?”

It wasn’t the first time they would be playing it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Bubby, particularly competitive in, well, everything, immediately perked up.

“What, you itching to lose just like last time, you little bitch boy?”

“Okay, just because I refused to drink an entire glass of bleach doesnt mea-“

“Bitch boy!”

“Um, I would like to go first, Mr Freeman!”- Tommy piped up, having a surprising competitive streak in him too.

Truth or Dare, for most people, was a game of fun and embarrassment and messing around. For The Science Team, it was more like a battle for dominance and glory.

Most of their games were, actually. Gordon already lost 6 packs of Uno cards to fire, and Jenga is completely forbidden in his apartment for the foreseeable future. And god forbid he ever saw anyone with a box of Monopoly ever again.

Gordon took an uncertain step, steadying his feet as he raised his glass and nodded, -“Sure, Tommy. Truth or Dare?”

“Oh, and why do you get to ask,”- Bubby piped up, crossing his arms.

“Because I offered the game, alright? Now-“

“Truth or Dare, Tommy?”- Dr Coomer took over, and Tommy immediately replied with a resolute “Dare”.

“Fantastic choice, my young friend!”- The older man smiled, and then his face immediately turned to stone. Gordon swallowed, on the edge of his seat (still standing) at what might come next.

Dr Coomer was known for going to the extremes. His dares were either along the lines of “Do a chicken dance” or “Drink this glass of bleach” (which was exactly where Gordon drew the line last time). One time he dared Bubby to eat a pack of ramen raw, and the maniac actually did it.

Once Dr Coomer opened his mouth again, Gordon’s heart sank to his feet.

“I dare you to drink-“

“No! No more bleach drinking! That is banned forever, okay, it’s-“

“-An entire glass of Dr Darnold’s strongest potion!”

Gordon paused in his tracks. Suddenly, the bleach idea didn’t seem to be as bad.

He threw a quick glance at the man in question, who seemed to be perfectly beaming at the suggestion.

“Why, I do think my potions are way too strong for you, Tommy! The side effects can be unpredictable!”- He exclaimed, already reaching over the precariously shaped vial, -“Now, I will need you to have a bucket by your side and a pack of ice and maybe a pair of tweezers-“

“I will be fiiiiine,”- Tommy slurred, more determined than ever. He was not one to pass up a dare, no matter how insane it sounded. Gordon began to wonder whether he had any tweezers lying around, just in case.

In the next second, with an agility unbecoming of a man as drunk as he already was, Tommy threw back the glass and Gordon watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed at every resounding gulp. He couldn’t help his jaw clenching as the fiery burn resonated in his own throat at the sight, a shiver running down his spine, The feeling was something akin to watching a car crash, the horrifying fascination making his stomach turn when Tommy thumped the vial back on the table and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

He had to sit back down for this.

“go, tommyyyyyy!”- Benrey shouted from somewhere behind the couch, and for once, Gordon agreed wholeheartedly. At this point, he was pretty certain that Tommy was the most badass person he knew.

“Hoo! Yeah! Woo- Aw-Awright, z-zat- Eazy! Eazier zan... zan.....!”- Tommy blinked hard, his eyes clouded over as he tilted further and further to his right, and yeah, maybe he was going to have the worst night/morning of his life, but damn if the street cred he earned in that moment wasn’t worth it.

“Cake!- Darnold helpfully supplied, and Tommy forcefully threw himself at the man to give him a huge hug.

“Iz cake!”- He slurred from Darnold’s shoulder, waving an arm around way too close to Bubby’s face, -“Whoza next!?”

“Gordon!”- The latter smirked, slapping away Tommy’s hand and leaning further back into Coomer.

Gordon turned his head so fast his neck cracked, a slight headache immediately forming from the whiplash.

“No!? What!? No, I didn’t agree to that. Why me!?”- He began pouring himself another drink. Suddenly he was really craving some of that strongest potion.

“Because you offered the game, right?”- Bubby grinned, and Dr Coomer nodded in agreement.

“You did offer the game, Gordon.”

“I know I offered the damn- Hey, why don’t we have someone else go, huh!? Why not- Why not Benrey?”- At the mention of his name, said being popped his head up and stared directly back at Gordon, -“He, like, never participates! What’s up with that!”

And he wasn’t lying, either. For someone who consistently talked about gaming, Benrey almost never took part in their late night competitions. Gordon could never tell why – he could never, ever tell why anything with this guy – but to him this felt almost deliberate. Of course, everything Benrey did felt deliberate – that is, he was always deliberately trying to get on Gordon’s nerves.

And this time was no exception.

“huh?”- Came the simple response, and the burn in Gordon’s stomach turned to a burn in his chest.

“Yeah, you never do anything! Here we are, running around like headless chickens, doing whatever stupid shit we want each other to do, and you just sit there!”

“whu-?”

“What, you think this is like, some kinda free show for you? Some kinda performance piece!? No, nope, that won’t do, buddy. You’re gonna participate or you’re gonna get the hell out of here, alright? Truth or Dare?”

“dare”

The reply came so fast, Gordon nearly lost his footing while sitting. He blinked down at the glass in his hand, brows furrowing in concentration.

Alright, sure, cool. Maybe he didn’t expect Benrey to actually answer. And maybe he definitely didn’t expect him to choose dare. This was fine. It was fine.

Gordon poured himself another drink.

“daaaaare,”- Benrey whined at the same time as Bubby said “The man has chosen dare, Gordon, now will you please give it to him!”

“Alright, alright; don’t shout at me, I’m thinking!”

“Well, think faster!”

“It is rude to make other people wait, Gordon,”- Dr Coomer pursed his lips as Tommy may or may not have said something in agreement. He was now more than half lying on Darnold, who didn’t seem to care in the least, and his hand was absentmindedly stroking Sunkist’s back.

Knowing him, though, he most definitely was on Benrey’s side here. They all always were.

“Would you like some ideas, Dr Freeman?”- Darnold offered, and Gordon reached his boiling point.

“No! No, alright, I got it! I dare you to, uh,”- Gordon looked Benrey over, his stupid acidic gamer slogan hoodie making his retinas hurt, watched as the same hooded eyes not blink as they stared back, dull, unseeing, bored, overcast in a shadow that seemed to be permanently encasing his sharp face. And then Gordon scrunched up his nose as he said with the most vitriol possible, -“I dare you to take off you stupid beanie.”

It was but a beat of silence before Benrey, understandably this time, went, - “huh???”

“You heard me,”- Gordon doubled down this time, fully recognizing how stupid and inconsequential his dare seemed in comparison to Coomer’s, but damn if he wasn’t going to insist on it now, -“Come on. Show us what’s under there. Show us what- Show us what you’re hiding.”

Benrey blinked once. Then twice.

And then he was suddenly making his way towards the front of the room, crawling on all fours like an animal, and his gaze pointedly fixed on Gordon as he said “ohhhhh does feetman wanna- does feetman wanna see my secret parts. does feetman wanna take a glance at my uhhhh my special place”

Gordon nearly choked on his drink, a renegade laugh escaping this throat as he desperately tried not to have vodka pour out of his nose.

“What the FUCK, man, don’t call it that!?”

“what next, you gonna ask me to take my shoes off. maybe my socks? i’m gonna need to see a signed permission for that first”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”- Gordon slammed the table as he keeled over, and he could almost physically feel Bubby rolling his eyes.

“You gonna do it or what!?”- He nudged Benrey with his foot so that the other nearly toppled over.

“what, that it”

“Wh-What?”- Gordon managed in between taking deep breaths, feeling the room sway slightly from side to side. He hated how everything the guard said made him lose his shit. He especially hated it right then, when he was staring right at him with that self-confident smirk that still somehow managed to look bored. He hated it so much.

“is that all? weak”

“What, you wanna take off your shirt too? Be my guest, man, fucking- Strip down to your pants. Do it. You won’t.”

Benrey stared at him.

Gordon regretted every decision he ever made that led him up to this point.

Benrey smiled.

And then in one confident motion he ripped off his hoodie, his beanie coming along with it.

He threw them to the side, the pile of clothes landing on Sunkist, who didn’t seem to mind in the least, and this was exactly the point where Gordon realized that this was a bad, bad, horrifically bad idea.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when Benrey took off his hat (or helmet or whatever other stupid thing he was wearing at the time), didn’t really think about it (or tried not to) but damn if it wasn’t this. It was just - just hair. Completely normal hair, almost insultingly so, jet black and cropped short to his skull. But it wasn’t even the hair that was the biggest offender - no, it was the now completely open, completely normal and completely handsome face that was staring back at him. Completely human, completely right, and so disgustingly unobscured that it made Gordon’s stomach do back flips that would have scored tens all around at the Olympics.

When Benrey’s fingers twitched to remove the undershirt that he had underneath, he knew he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay, fuck! We- We get it! You did the dare, alright, enough! That’s just indecent exposure at this point! Chill out, man!”

Benrey didn’t reply, but didn’t move to strip down any more. Gordon allowed himself to breathe again.

He was way too drunk for this.

He poured another drink.

After an uncomfortable stretch of terrible silence where Gordon could acutely feel the burn in his face and shoulders, Dr Coomer finally spoke up with an “That was a shitty dare, Gordon!”

“Yeah, it was horribly underwhelming. Not even writhing snakes underneath that thing,”- Bubby immediately joined, and at that Tommy perked up only to mumble “badgers” and then fall back down onto Darnold, knocking them both over to the floor.

Gordon couldn’t keep in the laughter that bubbled up from his stomach, and he had to look for support if only to stay upright. At this point, he was certain that if he were to fall down, he would not get back up again.

Of course, it just so happened that this time his closest support structure was Benrey, and by the time he realized that he was grabbing onto the other’s shoulder, it was way too late. Benrey was already staring at him, a smirk stretching over his lips that, without the ever-present shadow painting over his eyes, now looked almost... Nice. Sweet.

Gordon shifted in his seat, slowly removing his hand and clearing his throat.

That’s right. Play it cool. Play it cool.

Easier said than done, though, especially considering Benrey’s skin was practically burning next to him.

Gordon pulled at his hair tie, freeing his curls if only to have something covering his face. Dammit, Freeman, play it cool!

“Alright, which of you lightweights is going to go next?”- Bubby sighed, clearly resigning to being an observer this round, rather than a participant.

“gordon,”- Came a voice directly from Gordon’s right, and he immediately opened his mouth in protest.

Only to be shut up by Bubby before saying a single word, -“If you even so much as make a single sound besides “Truth” or “Dare”, I swear to fuck I will set your curtains on fire.”

Gordon was really tempted to say “Fuck off, not again”.

Instead, he resigned to whispering, “...Truth.”

“huh? what was that? truth? does little baby want truth? does little baby want his truth bottle?”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole, that doesn’t even make sense. The game isn’t called Dare or Dare, I can choose what I want.”

“stupid shitty baby can’t even handle this truth.”

Gordon snorted, fists curling up at his sides as he inhaled sharply, turning to face the permanent annoyance of his life that was Benrey.

“Okay. Okay. You know what? Okay! You wanna dance Benrey, huh? You wanna dance? Then let’s fucking dance. It’s dare. I choose dare. Hit me.”

Benrey’s smile only widened as Gordon’s heart sank deeper and his ears tingled with a warmth that was unwelcome, but not unfamiliar. And before either one of them could make a move, there was the distinct sound of clothes shuffling, the noise of something breaking, and then Tommy was kneeling on the floor, swaying from side to side like a piece of grass in a gentle breeze, finger pointed up, eyelids half closed as he barely managed out an, “I d-daaare- I dare Miste-ww Freeemann and B-Ben- Rey- To danz!”

Having finished his incredible statement, Tommy fell onto his other side, head landing right on Sunkist, and Darnold gently patted him on the shoulder mumbling “There, there.”

Gordon could only side eye the other scientists. He would be laughing right now, really, if he wasn’t so perfectly outraged by the proposition.

“Uh, how about no? You know I love you Tommy, but if you think that even for a second-“

“chicken man.”

“...What?”

“gordon freeman more like. more like gordon fowlman.”

“Hah, that was a clever one, Benrey! Keep it up!”- Dr Coomer encouraged, and Gordon really didn’t need that in his life right now.

“I’m not afraid to dance with you, I-“

“chickon fowlman”

“Fucking stop, alright! We’re both drunk as shit, and I doubt any one of us is a good dancer, we’re probably gonna break some-“

“what, no. i’m a great dancer. i’m the best- the bestest at dance. moves. number one in just dance 2003 on the playstation 2- got an award. a diploma. what do you got. stupid chicken legs. cluck cluck cluck, i’m idiot baby, i can’t dance-“

Gordon was on his feet in seconds, the room spinning around like a freaking kaleidoscope, but he’d be damned if he let this pretty- this cute- this shitty garbage sack believe that he was better than him. Even if it was true.

At this point, he was more than drunk, he was pissed, he was warm, and he wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of Benrey’s face if it was the last goddamn thing he did. If that meant he needed to dance, then he was going to fucking dance.

“Fine, okay, sure! Let’s go, let’s fucking go, go, go! Dr Coomer, hit us with a beat!”

If it was a dance battle Benrey wanted, it was a battle he was going to g-

The soft sound of a gentle piano was definitely not what Gordon expected to come out of the- Of Dr Coomer...? He honestly wasn’t sure where Dr Coomer was producing the sound from, but that mattered less at the moment than the particular sound being produced - which certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

“What the fuck!? What is this shit?”

“Gordon, this track is As Time Goes By by the Claude Williamson Trio-“

“No, no, I don’t give- Who cares about the name of the track!? We’re not fucking slow dancing! Give us something with a beat!”

“But Gordon, I enjoy this song.“

This was yet another moment where Tommy decided to speak up, suddenly raising his hand with one finger pointing at the ceiling, his voice muffled by the perfect dog’s fur as he muttered “I- I dare Mr Freeman- and- and Benrey to- to Slow. Dance. For fiiiiiiiiiiive miiiiiinuuuuuutesssssssss.”

His hand fell back to the floor with an audible thump.

“No! Hey, no, that’s not- That’s not in the rules! You can’t just change the original dare like-“

“Oh my god, silently! Quietly! Without words! Slow dance for five fucking minutes with your mouths shut tight, okay! That’s your fucking dare!”- Bubby threw his arms up, and the reflection in his glasses told Gordon that his curtains are very much in immediate danger.

This was dumb. This was more than dumb, this was shitty, stupid, against all rules, and really, he should just kick them all out and be done with it all.

So, like any rational and sound-minded person, Gordon swallowed down the horrible tightness in his throat, and opened up his arms in an invitation.

He didn’t mean to bite his lip when Benrey approached him, really, he didn’t, but his chest refused to stop pounding, his arms felt sticky and gross, and his vision was only ever so slightly blurry when he reached out his hand and grabbed Benrey’s.

“I’ll lead,”- He barely whispered, maybe more like mouthed so that didn’t count, and Benrey did not protest for once, his other hand finding his way over to Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon hesitated only a second before lightly guiding his fingers to the other’s waist.

There was a moment of certain panic, blood freezing over as an electric current ran through his spine, sudden realization that he couldn’t remember the last time he danced with anyone flooding his senses, before being replaced with a gentle, coaxing burn when he felt Benrey pull at him and take a step backwards. Gordon swallowed hard again, allowing his drunkenness to overtake for a moment, letting himself sway ever so gently as he tried his best to guide the other around the room. This wasn’t exactly a waltz, not even close, but at least he was conscious enough not to step on any feet or trip over his own.

This was... excruciating.

He didn’t know where to look, eyes darting around the room like he was desperately looking for an escape, and his hands and hair felt altogether way too sweaty for any of this. He didn’t want to hear Benrey’s slightly exalted breathing, the firm press of his hand in Gordon’s own, the feeling of those dark, dark, immensely dark eyes staring right into his very being. Five minutes, Gordon learned by the first 30 seconds, was an outrageously long time.

It was only around the second minute mark, when Gordon was certain he was going to pass out before finishing the dance, that his vision darkened for a split second, and it wasn’t before long that a feeling of complete and utter surrender washed over him. Shoulders dropping down, muscles releasing with an almost audible click, he felt his anxiety dissipate in the air along with that unbearable, pulsating heat. The only thing left was his heavy eyelids defiantly staying open and the soft sound of the piano keys running through the air. He willed his head to turn to Benrey then, finally allowing himself to make eye contact for the first time, and the sea of gently glowing blue orbs around them nearly overwhelmed his vision.

“calm down,”- Benrey mouthed, and Gordon gladly obeyed, nodding his head ever so slightly.

His arms felt like cotton, like melting butter, so he allowed both his hands to travel to Benrey’s lower back, not able to keep them up anymore. Benrey, in turn, gently wrapped his own arms around Gordon’s neck, and Gordon couldn’t find it in him to protest.

He could find it in him to be delighted, though.

He didn’t know what it was, exactly - the alcohol, the forced silence, or the gentle blue light that filled his very soul, but he suddenly felt braver, braver than he had ever been before. But more importantly, he felt curious - and so he tugged Benrey a little closer, just that much. He knew it was but a gentle pull - no, he was certain of it. The rest of the way between their bodies Benrey closed on his own.

Gordon’s stomach ignited in fireworks, his ribs prickling with the sensation of the other flush against him, the touch of his skin intoxicating in ways he didn’t remember were possible.

And all the while, his eyes were glued to Benrey’s, almost morbidly mesmerized by the two dark caverns that refused to reflect light and seemed to only take, take, and take.

Benrey’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Gordon couldn’t help the genuine smile that easily found its home on his face, couldn’t help the breath that got stolen when he saw that same smile reflected on Benrey’s own.

His fists balled in the other’s thin shirt, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so secure.

Serene. Right.

It’s nights like these, Gordon thought, that make everything worth it.

The last note played, the orbs burned out, and the only thing left standing in the middle of it all were the two of them, still clinging one to another, breathing hard as though they have just finished an intense exercise routine, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

And Gordon felt as though something unspoken has passed between them in that one moment.

And in the next, raucous applause followed, mostly provided by Dr Coomer, with Darnold gently joining in. Bubby let out a few claps as well, and they almost didn’t sound sarcastic.

“Bravo, Gordon! What a beautiful display of emotion!”- Dr Coomer kept on clapping, wiping a tear away from one eye as he cheered, -“For 2 Play Coins, I can replay the same song again!”

“N-No- Uhm-“- Gordon began, feeling his throat as dry as a summer in a dessert, having to cough violently as he practically peeled himself from Benrey. The immediate cold and overall shittiness that followed almost weren’t worth it, -“Ahem. That’s- That’s quite alright.”

“Ah shit, there he goes on talking again,”- Bubby rolled his eyes, and the atmosphere seemed to return to normal.

Benrey went to sit next to Tommy’s most probably unconscious form, and Gordon, after hesitating for way too long, sat down on the opposite side of the room.

A decision he came to regret immediately, if the brief look Benrey gave him was anything to go by.

How that permanently bored, expressionless face could carry so much emotion, Gordon would never know.

What he did know was that he needed another goddamn drink.

And from that point on, it was a huge blur. There were more dares, of course. He was pretty sure Darnold had to do a keg stand and Coomer and Bubby had to exchange clothes.

It was all stupid.

It was all ridiculously fun.

Gordon didn’t feel right throughout any of it.

His mind only came back online closer to morning, when the only thing keeping him awake was the constant noise of conversation and sheer willpower.

“truth,”- Benrey said, crude drawings of Sunkist now decorating both his arms. Gordon wasn’t sure if this was part of a dare or if he just did that for no reason.

“You want to mix it up a little, eh? Think this will be easy, don’t you?”- Bubby’s smile was sharp, all teeth and evil intent, and Gordon suddenly was really happy he wasn’t at the receiving end of that. Bubby was the most entertaining when he was being mean to someone else.

“hit me.”

“Okay. So. Who, out of this group, do you have a crush on?”

Oh. So Gordon was on the receiving end of that after all, huh.

He didn’t know why was it, exactly, that that question hit him like a pile of bricks. But it did. And now he was anxiously staring at Benrey, heart beating so fast it threatened to break through his rib cage.

Benrey, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as panicked. He just... kept on staring at the floor. And he kept on staring. And he kept on staring until he finally blurted out an. “bbbb.... d.... coomer.”

“I am flattered, Benrey, but I am quite happily married,”- Dr Coomer replied hugging Bubby close, who only rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Bullshit! It’s called Truth, now say the goddamn truth!”

It was at this moment that Benrey’s eye met Gordon’s.

It was at this moment that Gordon knew precisely what to do.

In a move that probably required him to be way more sober, he kicked the table so hard that half the glasses and bottles on top of it tumbled over, some rolling to the floor and breaking with a resounding crash.

“Fuck! What the fuck!”- Bubby exclaimed, throwing his feet up on the couch, and even Tommy came back to life for a second to look around, before passing back out on Sunkist again.

“Careful, Dr Freeman! These babies can melt through concrete!”- Darnold immediately busying himself with picking up his vials, and Gordon took this moment to stand up, exaggerating his slur and wobbliness (though not by much) when he said, -“Woo... Huh... Sorry- Sorry, guys, I must have- Man, I’m dying, I think I- I need sleep, guys, I-“

“Yes, yes, we get the message,”- Bubby sighed, as Dr Coomer immediately laid straight down on the couch, forcibly pulling him down as well, -“Goodnight, Gordon.”

“Good night, Gordon!”- Coomer echoed, closing his eyes and passing out within seconds.

“Take care, Dr Freeman,”- Darnold nodded, before snuggling up next to Sunkist and Tommy.

Well, that was easy. If there was one thing about The Science Team that Gordon appreciated most of all, it was how they didn’t bother asking questions. It was better that way, really.

He should be a better host and at the very least get them blankets, Gordon thought, carefully avoiding the broken glass as he made his way across the room.

This was a problem for tomorrow’s Gordon.

Now, however, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Benrey stood up as Gordon approached him, staring silently, before turning around and abruptly making his way to the entrance.

“Wa- Wait- Benrey, wait!”- This time it wasn’t an exaggeration when Gordon nearly tripped over his own feet. His head was throbbing with a headache unlike any other, but he shut that part up for a brief second. More important matters, -“Where the hell are you going!?”

“away?”- Benrey replied as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- Wait- I mean. Why? You can stay here? I’m not kicking you out?”

He stared. And then he stared some more.

It was true that Benrey usually disappeared before morning came, like some sort of vampire that could only come out at night. Gordon never questioned it, never bothered to ask him why he left – it didn’t matter that his apartment always felt a little emptier.

It didn’t matter before, but it mattered now.

“I mean- I know there’s not a lot of room, and the guys are all over the living room, but, y’know, my bed is a double, so if you wanna, you can-“

“i don’t sleep”

Gordon blinked down, the ramble in his head and his words interrupted by this simple poignant statement. He tilted his head, desperately trying to keep standing upright.

“What? Like, at all? That’s bullshit man, that’s complete- and I- I saw you, okay, I saw you sleeping in-“

“kind of gay of you. watching me sleep. wanna see my hair then. then taking my shirt off then. then dancing with me like-“

“Shhh- Shut up, shut up!”- Gordon hissed, taking Benrey by the hand and quietly leading him back to the bedroom. There was no way he would be able to handle this conversation standing up, -“This isn’t- It’s not like that, okay, it’s-“

“It’s not?”

It wasn’t often that Gordon was able to tell what Benrey was thinking or feeling at any given moment. In this instance, however, the disappointment in his voice was so palpable that he could almost taste it on his tongue.

“N-No! Wait, I mean- Yes? I mean- I- I don’t fucking knoooow, man,”- He sighed, dropping down on the bed, head immediately spinning like the propellers of a helicopter, heart drumming, jaw aching, -“I just- I’m too drunk, Benrey. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t- I just know I don’t want you to leave.”

He didn’t know if that was enough. It didn’t sound enough to him.

But to Benrey, apparently, it was.

In a moment the space besides Gordon felt the bed beside him dip, that already familiar heat seeping through his skin like nuclear radiation, overwhelming him whole.

He felt himself magnetized, moving closer to it almost unconsciously, keeping his eyes closed to prevent the room from spinning crazy. His hand worked of their own volition, desperately searching for anything to hold, and when he felt a set of fingers interlace with his own, he allowed himself to exhale all the tension in his shoulders.

“Thanks,”- He whispered, snuggling in closer, inhaling a scent that was near acidic, but not unpleasant. He didn’t know how he would justify this to himself tomorrow, didn’t want to think about that just yet, and he heard a stream of sweet voice being spread around the room.

He opened his eyes just for a second, just a brief moment to register the vibrant pink floating around his bedroom, the gentle glow that outlined Benrey’s hooded eyes, and for once he thought he could recognize something in them.

Gordon exhaled softly, holding on for dear life.

“Goodnight,”- He said, or maybe thought, or maybe imagined, his consciousness finally fading into sweet darkness.

“gordon,”- Benrey replied then, quiet, soft, and with the certain conviction of a man giving the right answer to a demanding question.

#frenrey #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #there is also a smidgen of boomer in there #and softly implied darnold/tommy #i cant believe this is my first fic in two years and this is what i write #hlvrai truly is incredible huh #fanfiction #sai.fic

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

Text

Roguish Women Part 49

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 49: Neither Kate nor Tommy can remain idle for very long.

//Sorry for such a delay. School has been so tough this semester but this week is finals so I'll be back to writing in no time. I think Helen's death really took the wind out of my sails too. I still haven't really gotten over it. I take celebrity deaths so badly.

But by the time Tommy had returned, however, his own bride had gone missing. Alice pointed him outside again, this time on the back patio. Grateful for some time alone with her, Tommy left the rowdy party inside.

Kate was sitting on a garden wall; her back was to the party as she overlooked Arrow House’s great lawns. Tommy shrugged off his coat and draped it over her arms.

The soft-touch of the fabric knocked her out of her own thoughts. “Did you find Alfie?”

“Yeah, he was out on the steps.” Tommy sat down next to her.

“Oh good. Mabel was sure he had gotten cold feet and ran.”

“He’s not going anywhere. Never thought I’d see that man in love. Guess I’ve seen it all now.”

Kate laughed softly and leaned into his side. Her eyes were still lingering over the grassy hills where grasshoppers chirped and a few owls surveyed hidden in their trees. “This place is bigger than the block I grew up on in Boston.” She remarked. “I’d always grown up wondering where those great outdoors were. Where there was almost nothing for miles and miles. You couldn’t see the end of it. I thought someday I’d go out west and maybe just disappear out there.”

“I would’ve joined you.” Tommy agreed. “I wanted to a cowboy when I was growing up.”

Kate smiled and tried to picture young Tommy Shelby pretending to be an outlaw. In a way, he had become one. They both had. “I guess the city isn’t so bad when you’ve got people you care about there. Still, it’s nice to know that there are places where city stuff doesn’t matter.”

Tommy knew there were things they could never escape. But there was no use destroying the illusion.

“I was thinking if we had a boy, we could name him after John.” Kate glanced over at her husband. “Arthur and I were talking about it. I guess we could nickname him Jack to make things easier. But I thought it would be a nice honor.”

Tommy nodded. “I think that’s a nice idea.” There was a hole in his heart that his younger brother had left. So many times, he was tempted to pick up the phone and call him. But then the realization trickled over him like cold water. Esme had taken many things but there were items Tommy still had. Letters and an old schoolbook that John had written all over. The binding was coming loose and the pages were yellowing, but Tommy would never throw it away. He had learned early on to keep little mementos of people before they were gone. He had nothing from his mother. No one did. It was almost like she never existed because there was no trace of her left. It was something he regretted and a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

He took Kate’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. “What we have girls?”

“Then one of them will be Jacquelyn.”

He chuckled. “You always have a plan for everything, don’t you?”

“Well, I learned from the best.” She murmured and pulled him close for a deep kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

The day was warm as Kate stepped outside. But there were clouds coming in from the horizon. She took her time walking across the patio to the lawns. She went to stand on top of the hill that overlooked the rest of the fields on Arrow House’s land.

There, she could spot Tommy coming from the forest trails on Blue. He had the horse on a loose rein, letting him lope across the grass. May had told Kate it was a miracle the gelding responded so well to Tommy. According to May, the horse had a fiery temper but that didn’t seem to bother Tommy in the slightest. Kate had a feeling he enjoyed the challenge. She knew he’d been itching for something to do. Between being on holiday and waiting for the due date, Tommy was getting stir-crazy. Having a young horse to focus on training was good enough of a distraction. At least for the time being.

Blue’s hooves were heavy against the ground as he trotted up the gradual hill to Kate.

“I thought I’d find a cowboy out here.”

Tommy chuckled and dismounted. “Were you waiting for me long?”

“No, I just came out. I was worried you were going to get caught in that storm coming.”

Tommy took Blue’s reins in hand and began walking with Kate back to the stables. “A little rain doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, I didn’t want Blue to be spooked. I think it might thunder.”

He patted the gelding’s shoulder. “He’ll learn to get used to the noises. Warhorses always get used to the noises.”

Kate noticed the faraway look in his eyes. “I hardly think Blue would be a warhorse. Deserves a better life than that, don’t you think?”

“Hm.” He nodded but didn’t seem to really hear her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sky had gone completely dark by the time they reached the stables. Tommy got Blue untacked while Kate combed out his mane. But the horse was starting to pick up on the storm brewing. His nostrils flared and he tossed his head.

“Sh, sh, easy.” Kate soothed and stroked his neck. “It’s alright.”

Tommy took Blue off the cross ties. “He’ll settle in his stall.”

Kate put the mane comb away and wandered to the stable doors. In an instant, it began to pour. Heavy raindrops smattered against the gravel walkway back to the house. The wind picked up and rushed through the budding trees.

Every time it rained; Kate felt washed over with memories. She didn’t know why the weather had such an impact on her. But there was only so much she could do when the sky was putting on such a violent display.

Tommy wrapped an arm around her waist. “Guess we’ll be stuck here for a bit.”

“It’ll go as soon as it came.” She said quietly.

“Want to sit?”

“Oh, yes, that would be a good idea.” Sometimes when she was lost in her thoughts, she forgot the burden of carrying twins.

Tommy grabbed a stool from the tack room to let her sit. Kate sighed and watched some of the rainwater trickling into the stable aisle.

As if reading her mind, Tommy slid the doors shut. The rain was muffled and mixed with the sound of the horses stirring in their stalls. Blue poked his head out, snorting uneasily.

“Y’know, it rained one of the last few days I was at the Moulin Rouge,” Kate said. If they were going to be stuck in the stables until the rain ebbed, she figured it would be a good idea to talk. “And I realized that sometimes the worst comes before the good.”

Tommy sat down on a bale of hay next to her. “I’ve found that too.”

She smiled. “So maybe with all we’ve been through so far, it opens us up for happiness the rest of our lives.”

“Kate, I want nothing more than for you to be happy.”

“I know, so I guess I…” She chewed on her lip. “I don’t want to sound like an awful person saying this, but I don’t want to lie to you either.”

Tommy reached over to lift her chin. “Tell me.”

“I hope that during this holiday you’re taking, you’ll realize there’s more to life than clawing your way to the top.” Kate took his hand in hers. “I hope you’ll see that maybe you were destined for better things. You said how you wanted to work with horses. You have plenty of money to just do that. To retire and-” Her voice faded when she realized she was losing him.

His blue eyes were steady on their entwined hands. “I can’t stay still, Kate.” He whispered. “Not since the war. If I stay still, if I stop moving forward…everything catches up to me.”

Kate understood completely. When she was running from Santo all those years, she never felt safe in one spot. Physically or psychologically. If she kept moving, she felt she was steps ahead of her opponents. Steps ahead of the turmoil she’d left behind. If she kept moving, she could forget about her mother’s death. She couldn’t ask Tommy to stand still and let it all catch up to him.

“I understand.”

Tommy brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. “It’ll be alright.” He promised. “The holiday will be fine. We’ll be busy soon enough.”

Kate smiled but felt a little deflated. If only there was something she could do to help her husband. But it felt impossible.

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

The rain let up just enough for Tommy and Kate to hurry back to the house. Thunder rumbled across the sky and the wind tore across the countryside with a vengeance. Kate didn’t like to think she was superstitious, but she was getting an ominous feeling that she couldn’t shake.

The windowpanes rattled after dinner from the thunder that was still getting closer. Kate retired to bed before Tommy but she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she paced by the windows. There wasn’t much to see outside. It was too dark and raining too hard. But Kate she could see shadows on the lawns. A chill ran up her spine when a crack of lightning flashed across the sky.

She gasped when she swore that she could see a menacing figure standing outside. In her panic and fear, her brain conjured up an image of Santo. The floorboards behind her creaked and she couldn’t help but let out a scream.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Tommy turned on the light and rushed over to her.

So startled, Kate began to cry.

“What’s wrong?” He pulled her close.

“I’m just s-so scared, Tom.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, love, I would never let anything bad happen to you.” Tommy kissed her temple and rubbed her back. “What spooked you?”

But Kate was too petrified to answer. Every roll of thunder and every flash of lightning made her shake. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. “I-I’m just scared.” It was scarce, the number of times Kate admitted to being afraid of anything. No one needed to know her fears. If they did, she was certain they would just use those fears against her. Some sort of manipulative tool. But there were times, like in that moment, she couldn’t contain her anxiety. There was no telling why, but so many things were coming up to the surface that night. Perhaps she had remained idle for too long as well.

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#peaky blinders fanfiction #ofc #ofcs #OC #ocs #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfiction #fanfiction #cililan murphy #cillian murphy character #season 4 #season 5 #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x ofc

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Eight

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, substance abuse

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"H-Hi." Deana tries to keep her composure upon the sight of Nikki freshly off-stage.

He looks more pale than he was before heading to play, his sweat cloaked body shaking slightly.

His mother, her dark hair curled and bright red lips tugging into a sappy smile as tears bubble in her eyes.

Even without probably knowing the whole story, Axl and the guys know Nikki doesn't have a relationship with his mom, and the nightmare about to take place has them slowly leaning against the wall of the hallway, quietly looking down, uncomfortable with getting caught in the middle of this.

"What are you doing here?" Nikki asks, confused, more than likely questioning if its a hallucination from mixing too many drugs or not.

"I made the arrangement." Doc states chipperly, stupidly thinking Nikki would be happy. "An early Christmas present." He adds.

"I wanted to see you," She tells her son, taking a few steps closer, "I wanted to see both of you...I've already missed out on so much." She explains, looking at me. "I-I know the timing is off, but I really wanted to talk to you."

"No, the timing isn't off--" I try to assure her.

"--Don't waste your breath, Viv, she's just gonna ask for money and then disappear for another ten years." Nikki scoffs, brushing past her.

"Frank--"

"--That's not my name." He snaps to her.

"It's the name on your birth certificate, Frankie. Frank Ferana. It might not be as glamorous as 'Nikki Sixx' but--"

"--It's Nikki. Legally. It's Sixx. Legally. It's her last name. Legally." He refers to me and she clenches her jaw. "And any kids I have are gonna have that last name. Legally. I'm not 'Frank', or 'Frankie', and I'm certainly not a fucking 'Ferana' so don't even start that shit."

"You're still my baby." She tells him, trying not to cry. "I came all this way to see you." She adds, wrapping her arms around him.

I see the glimmer of a little boy in his eyes, for a split second, then it's quickly pushed aside and replaced with that of an angry, abused, hurt, scorned, abandoned dog.

And he's going for the throat in a moment the second she says:

"Oh, my Frankie."

He's shoving her off of him so hard she nearly goes to the floor.

"That's not my fucking name!" He screams at her, throwing his bottle of Jack at the ground at her heeled-boot covered feet.

He's storming off, Doc following after him, and Fred takes a breath and goes to Deana, to politely usher her out.

"That's fucked." Izzy mumbles, shaking his head slightly, going to their dressing room and I walk behind them.

"Nikki--"

"--Who the fuck do you think you are?! Huh?! Who the hell are you to bring my personal life front and center for every God damn body to see?!"

"I didn't realize you and your mother weren't on good terms." Doc tells him, honestly.

"You think I'm this fucked up for the hell of it?! You think I'm this way after growing up with parents who gave a shit?! Really?!" Nikki laughs humorlessly.

"Nikki, I'm sorry, alright?"

"No, you're not, you don't give a shit and you never have, you're just another greedy fuck getting his rocks off from the money in my pocket but I'm done!" He yells, turning to walk away. "You don't know what's fucking best for me, you don't care about me, you don't care about the band, you're not my fucking father and you sure as shit aren't my manager anymore so just go get fucked, Doc, you're fucking fired!" He calls.

"You're not fired." I assure Doc, wanting to go after him, but not able to bring myself to.

He doesn't want to talk to me about it.

I am surprised to see Axl rub his forehead and roll his jaw before stalking past me, Nikki's way.

"Where you going?" I ask him.

"I fucking hate my mom." Is all he says as he goes by.

I didn't know what exact issue Axl had with his own mother, but I'd later find out it was because her horrible judgment in men and what abuse she'd allow him and his siblings to endure from those men, along with her forceful hand in religion that she and Axl's stepfather enforced brutally on their kids.

"Did Doc really not mean to set that up?" Steven asks me when I get into their dressing room.

"No, he didn't." I reply.

"Is Nikki gonna be okay?" Tansy asks quietly.

"I don't know, Tansy." I roll my eyes and she furrows her brows, slightly.

"Do you even care?" She asks me and I look at her.

"Tans--" Duff starts.

"--No, I mean, really, Vivian. Do you even care?" She cuts him off.

"Excuse me?" I ask, practically seeing the dullness in her eyes of a mixed-drug high.

Without a doubt coke and smack.

"Of course I care, Tansy. Just because he and I are separated doesn't mean I want him to suffer."

"Way to take one for the team by sleeping with Duff, then, because surely that is the one thing that has to be done to prevent Nikki's suffering." She states.

"What I do and who I do it with is my business, Tansy." I tell her, crossing my arms.

"Sure doesn't sound that way when everybody on the same floor as you can hear nothing but, 'ahh, ahh, Duff, ahh!'" She mimics moaning.

"Maybe I'm staying under Duff so much because if I don't, you'll take it as an open invitation, and there really are some people you don't have to try to sleep with mandatorily based on their wallet size, Tansy."

"Just like there are some people you don't have to sleep with based on whether or not they're gonna be big rockstars or not." She shoots back.

"Wanna be the pot or the kettle?" I ask.

"I want you to stop adding fuel to the fire and then acting like your hands are clean while smiting all of us." She outbursts.

"Smite you for adding to his problems? Offering him drugs when he's already going down hill? Letting him think screwing another woman is okay--not even screwing her, having an entire relationship with her." I correct myself.

"Given the circumstances of your marriage, he needed an escape." She says next.

"Given the circumstances of your new-found smack-induced courage, you act like you need my fist to knock your teeth out."

"Viv--"

"--Then you'll really be laying on your back to get work."

"But at least I do work. What do you do? Aside from spend Nikki's money and sleep with his friends?"

"I'm not killing him like you and Sparkie have been with your junkie bullshit." I manage to keep myself from having an outburst, more concerned with Nikki's crisis with his mom.

"Not yet, at least." She mumbles as I'm walking out.

"Where you guys going?" Tommy asks as we head to leave for the bus.

"Um… about to pack our stuff up and head out?" Izzy replies.

"No, no, no, just because Nikki's parade's been pissed on doesn't mean ours has to be." Tommy suggests to them.

"Yeah, c'mon it's our last night hangin' out for a while." Vince points out, two groupies already under each arm.

"I was gonna check on Sixx." Slash explains.

"I'm fine." Nikki shows up, his hands on Slash's shoulders, tightly in an aggravating manner, making Slash chuckle as he twists away from him.

Axl isn't far behind, he and Izzy looking at the invitation to hangout with the guys one last time on this tour, hesitantly.

"What the hell," Izzy shrugs.

"So glad you said that, man, because we have a special surprise." Nikki grins, beckoning them with his finger.

"Stevie, c'mon!" Duff exclaims from behind me, Steven exiting their dressing room with Tansy behind him.

"You good?" He asks Nikki.

"Yeah." Nikki assures him. "I have a present." He adds, leading the guys to the double doors of what I assume is a bigger room.

Sure enough, he opens the door, and at least ten girls are lined up, naked, asses up, thick lines of coke down their spines.

Nausea nestles it's way into my stomach, but Tommy, Vince and Nikki look as if this is their promised land.

Even Steven looks slightly off-put by the brazen display.

Complete disinterest cascades off of Duff, a heavy puff of cigarette smoke leaving his nostrils with the huff of his unamused breath.

"Who's first?" Nikki asks.

Naturally, the guys look to their "leader," and Axl reluctantly rolls his eyes and walks over to the first girl.

It's like he refuses to acknowledge she's naked, his main focus is the line of coke on her back.

He snorts one-eighth of the line before deciding that's enough.

I don't blame him--the way his fingers hold at the bridge of his nose makes me wince because I know it probably burns like a bitch.

"Boo!" Tommy disappointedly calls to Axl as he walks out.

He's had his party.

Izzy follows.

"More for us." Nikki shrugs, smirking.

He looks at me directly in the eyes, heavy black liner sharpening the contrast of his hazel eyes as he keeps my gaze, spitefully unbuckling his belt and he starts unlacing his pants, making his way to the girl Axl was at earlier.

He is not…

Duff's snatching me out of the room only milliseconds before Nikki enters the girl in sync with snorting the line up her skin.

That was that.

It's a bittersweet draw to an end, "thank you" and "damn, I'm gonna miss you" seeming to be on everyone's lips as hugs and high-fives go around between all the boys once we get back to L.A.

I rub my lips together and smile softly as I hand Fred my purse to put in the car, sighing softly, smiling when he looks down at me.

"See ya later, kid." He tells me and tears swell in my eyes as I wrap hug him tightly, taking him off guard a little. "Don't kill each other...not even over that dumb shit he pulled tonight." He says, referring to the groupie cocaine platter.

"I'll try." I mumble, wiping my eyes quickly before stepping up to say bye to the guys.

Steven and Slash are pretty easy, but Axl just stares at me for a moment before reluctantly wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tightly.

"I'm sorry I was an asshole this entire trip." He mumbles lowly in my ear.

"I'm sorry I almost got you kicked off." I reply in the same low tone.

"You're one of the reasons they took us in the first place." He states, pulling away to look at me, cupping my face in his hands, grinning. "You're gonna keep up my lie that we're siblings, right?" He asks and I chuckle.

"You guys are gonna make it big and I need a meal ticket so of course." I shrug and his smile grows wider. "I love you." I tell him.

"I love you, too." He assures me, kissing me on the cheek, giving me one last squeezing hug before heading to their bus.

Izzy looks at me for a moment.

"Izzy." I say to him.

"Viv." He acknowledges me and steps to the bus.

Just before Duff can tell me 'bye', arms are locking around my waist, and pulling me against the person they belong to.

"Izzy?" I ask after a moment.

"We're not friends." He says, pulling away to leave, leaving me and Duff.

"Um, I'll see you later?" I offer and he rubs his lips together, his eyes over my shoulder, and I look to see Nikki and a woman that we'd picked up from the airport, getting into the car.

I turn back to face Duff, biting my tongue to keep my tears back.

"You can stay with me tonight." Duff offers.

"Really?"

He just smiles down at me.

I inhale the familiarly comforting scent of cigarette smoke as we walk into Duff's apartment, dropping my bags and running to the bedroom, face planting into the mattress, exhausted.

The weight of Duff's body laying on top of me making me laugh, his own chuckle further making me grin.

"I'm so tired." I tell him.

"Me too." He replies, and I turn over underneath him, wrinkling my nose.

"You stink." I say.

"I think I smell pretty sexy." He grins, teasingly.

"No." I shake my head a little, scrunching my face to my shoulder when he tries to kiss my neck. "Go shower." I giggle when he tries again.

"Come shower with me." He counters.

"I don't feel like it and I don't stink, so--ew, Duff!" I squeal as he takes his shirt off that reeks of sweat and rubs it all over my face and hair.

"What about now?" He asks and I pick up the pillow above my head and start hitting at him with it.

After a few hits are gotten in, he's getting off the bed, stretching.

"You coming?" He asks when he walks to the bathroom.

"I guess." I reply, following after him.

Once I get out and have one of Duff's shirts on, I go to the kitchen to grab some water before bed, the quietness of the apartment allowing different thoughts to invade my mind.

I can't help but wonder what Nikki's doing. Is he high? Is he drunk? Is he even still alive? They leave in a few days for Japan but I honestly don't believe they should go. They need help.

I think at this moment everyone's just trying to see if they can get away with pressing at them a little more without anybody snapping.

But by the looks of it, Nikki is pretty damn close to snapping, and Tommy anf Vince and Mick aren't far behind at all.

Nikki.

My heart tightens in my chest, remembering last Christmas, how he sat curled under our tree, shooting up.

He'd get strung out, then lay underneath the tree and stare up at the lights for hours.

"Are we gonna buy a Christmas tree?" I ask, looking at the empty living area.

"If you want to." He calls to me from the bedroom.

"I want to." I reply, going into the room and getting in bed while he follows.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You know, homey-ness and stuff." I add. "Especially if I'm gonna be here longer." I add and he falls beside me.

"I'll get a tree tomorrow." He assures me, kissing me chastely before yawning and getting comfortable, and I turn off the lamp and lay down, too.

He goes to sleep in no time, but two hours later, in the early hours of morning, I smile to myself in the dark room, Christmas lights from the street shining into the window, lighting up the room and cascading a comforting dim light over Duff's sleeping body next to me.

Reaching over, I run my fingertips softly against his cheek, pushing blonde strands of his hair out of the way, his eyes slowly blinking open slightly before a small tug of a smile pulls his lips slightly.

"Sorry." I whisper, not meaning to have woken him up.

"It's okay." He says quietly, closing his eyes again. "I love you, Vivian." He adds, his eyes staying closed, but he grabs my hand that's on his cheek, and presses a kiss to my palm, holding my hand when he's done.

I snuggle closer to him, laying still and closing my eyes, too, while I reply, "I love you, too," the way I wish I would have done to Nikki all these years.

Years later, while on what I presumed to be his deathbed, he told me that simple moment was what made him feel sure that I was the one. I took everything he had done up to that point with stride. But thinking he was going to die, reflecting on everything that could have been between us but never got to be, and hearing him tell me, "there's a ring I got you years ago when we thought we were gonna be together, but I never gave it to you. Mandy never knew about it. Linda doesn't know about it, but it's on my closet shelf and I don't want to go without giving it to you," broke my heart more than anything he could've done up to that point.

NIKKI

I turn over, seeing the silhouette of the brunette I picked up at the airport, her sheet-covered chest rising and falling with each breath.

A part of me feels irritated because her perfume is contaminating Vivian's side of the bed that still smells like her.

I've been reduced to plucking Viv's clothing from drawers or from in the closet and smelling it. That makes me sound like a fucking stalking creep, but it's the truth.

How the fuck did we get here, again?

Oh, right, me not able to keep my dick in my pants, and the woman I didn't keep my dick in my pants for, didn't keep her mouth shut.

I sit up, walking to the bathroom to piss. When I'm done I look at myself in the mirror and feel a little impressed.

I don't look as bad as I thought.

Well, kinda.

I splash water on my face, wincing at the dark circles under my eyes.

I end up staring at myself for God knows how long, remembering how Vivian would wake up and come in here to get me back in bed if I left her for too long because she didn't like sleeping by herself.

I smile a little, slowly closing my eyes, feeling her touch across my back, the softness of her lips pressing to the skin of my spine before her cheek presses to the same place before she sleepily mumbles out, "come back to bed."

Opening my eyes, for a split second, I see her. Standing behind me, green eyes peering at me over my shoulder, the feeling of her holding me...it's gone in a flash. She's gone in a flash.

My nose burns with the oncoming tears cooking up in my eyes, and I erase them quickly with another splash of water to thr face.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug #mötley crüe

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izcana · 4 years

Text

we wish you a merry christmas

12 Days of Newtmas Day 1 Prompt - Canon: Christmas in the Glade

***

Thomas cocked his head to the left, taking in the sight of Newt dressed in a red jumpsuit like outfit and a fuzzy red hat with a pom-pom on the top. Vivid images of evergreen trees decorated with shiny, colourful ornaments; a mug filled with a brown syrup-like liquid, topped up with white, fluffy sugar; flushed cheeks belonging to a little boy whose face Thomas couldn't remember; snowballs being pelted at his window first thing in the morning, the powdery substance exploding at the impact into little flakes, spattering all over the place; and the fresh, sharp smell of ginger from the vaguely shaped-like-people biscuits.

After the quick flash of images, there came a detached video-like clip like view of an old man with a bushy beard dancing in a flashy red outfit decorated with white fur and an obnoxiously bright gold-tinted belt buckle, similar to what Newt wore.

"What?" Thomas questioned, raising his brows. He turned a blind eye (well, not really a blind eye, but you know what I mean) to his blushing cheeks; Newt looked so cute wearing a pom-pom topped hat that bounced whenever he took a step. Sure, the bulging muscles didn't usually inspire "cute" in Thomas' book, but paired with hooded blue eyes that sparkled like the rivers, Newt was beautiful.

"It's Christmas tomorrow!" Newt exclaimed as if offended he did not know. Of course, he shouldn't have known, because he was the Greenie and Greenies only got pieces of their memories back slowly. It wasn't fair for Newt to compare them, but for his favourite Second-in-Command, he could make an exception and let it go.

Well, that, and the fact that he had a Jupiter-sized crush on Newt.

How could he not, though? Newt was perfect: he had a caring personality and he was patient, allowing whomever near a sense of comfort. He could laugh, and his brand of dry humour was a brilliant contrast to the dull order of the Glade. Newt was someone you could depend on, someone loyal, someone selfless who would see himself hurt before his friends. The fact that he had the most amazing tousled blonde hair, a sharp, chiselled jaw, greek-god like muscles, and sharp, sea-blue eyes was just a bonus. A big one, according to Thomas.

Thomas was certain that at least 20 other Gladers had a crush on Newt. He couldn't possibly be the only one drawn to Newt's easygoing demeanour and his dashing looks! He was frankly, surprised that no one had acted upon it, though amongst Minho and he, they had discussed the likely hood of half the Glade being attracted to Newt.

Minho, being straight* himself, was not, but it was not that much of a stretch to figure out that Thomas, in fact, was.

If Minho was being honest, he ought to have expected this the moment Greenie came into the Glade and following Newt around like a lost puppy, but he hadn't. Good thing Thomas told him; Minho would gladly threaten Thomas to not hurt his best friend.

Thomas vowed he would not ("How could I, Minho? I would toss myself off the Cliff before I hurt Newt!") and Minho believed him, but you never know.

If Newt's opinion, which had been obliterated, been included in this, he would've told Minho that Thomas would never hurt him, and he trusted Thomas completely. Though, of course, neither boy asked as Thomas had not the slightest confidence that Newt would want to date him. If again, they had bothered to ask for Newt's opinion, he would've told Thomas that shuck, yes! Of course, Newt wanted to date him!

How could anyone not want to...?

There seemed to be a pattern of misunderstandings here...

––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Come on, Tommy!" Newt whined, pulling at Thomas' sleeve childishly. As you could imagine, the image of Newt's lean but bulky frame pulling Thomas, who was slimmer and much shorter than Newt was laughter-inducing for the patrons watching (i.e. Minho). He was fed up with the whole "dancing around each other" façade. "Live a little! Dress up for Christmas!"

"I hate you, Newt," Thomas snarked back but bulged begrudgingly from his spot, which his feet were previously firmly planted on. Nonetheless, the brunet boy followed the blonde.

Newt smirked, guiding Thomas to the storage room. "Come! Everybody's dressing up!"

"I hate you, Newt!" Thomas groaned again. "Why are we friends again?"

"Because I saved your butt when you were a Greenie, and I still save your butt sometimes, remember?" Newt answered, grinning widely. Thomas rolled his eyes. Of course, he remembered. Trust Newt to bring up the times when he was a Greenie.

Newt, bearing no mind the complaints of Thomas, shoved a wreath and a red/green combination outfit unceremoniously into Thomas' arms. "Put those on ––– do it, Thomas!" Newt ordered when Thomas gave the impression of a frightened doe ready to bolt. "Put those on and come out. It's the only break we're going to get in the Glade, might as well do a fashion show."

Newt might've also neglected to inform Thomas that the reason he was forcing Thomas into the costume was mainly to see Thomas' chocolate brown hair settled nicely with the wreath and the red/green outfit making him seem like a dressed up puppy. He didn't get much chance to see Thomas like that, carefree like a kid such as himself (themselves, actually, but Thomas was younger) should've been.

"Why??" Thomas moaned, but he did as he was told. "Can you get out so I can change, at least?"

From an outsider's perspective, it may appear that Thomas was angry. However, Newt merely smirked. "Nope, I'm watching ya."

"You just wanna see me naked!" Thomas mocked, swaying his hips in a very unrhythmical motion. Newt snorted a laugh from his nose. Thomas was adorable, his butt wiggling eagerly to some imagined song that probably didn't exist, and trying so hard to prove his point.

"Real sexy, Thomas," Newt confessed, making sure to word his tone as a joke.

Thomas had his now-nude back to Newt, but he was certain he saw the brunet's ears turn red. "Y-Yep," he stuttered. "I'm s-sexy and I know it."

Newt thinks I'm sexy? A part of Thomas screamed, but logically, Thomas knew that as much as he wished for it to be real, it was all just a joke on Newt's part. A rather cruel one, too, if Newt had any idea of his feelings (which he did, but no one's telling Thomas that, is he?), he would not be so cruel.

However, Newt's thoughts went the other direction; they went like this: if I tease Thomas, maybe he'd slip up and confess.

I won't blush, Thomas commanded himself, willing the heat from his ears to back down. I won't let Newt see I like him.

He's so sexy, Newt's brain thought. And he doesn't know it. Not enough, at least. Newt had better change that quickly...

"You are sexy," Newt whispered in a husky voice, and a shudder rippled through Thomas' spine. "I want to kiss you until you see bloody stars. May I?"

Thomas grinned impishly, revealing his pearly white teeth. "You may."

With the agreement, Newt swept Thomas up and smashed his thin lips against Thomas' plumper ones, bruising them quickly. Newt's hands found their way towards Thomas' hips, whereas Thomas wound his arms tightly against the nape of Newt's neck. The fine golden hairs tickled slightly, but he had absolutely no complaints about that right then.

(In the end, Newt made Thomas wear the costume and complimented him until his cheeks were flaming like his recently bruised lips.)

***

Just a note to explain the star: I do not believe that Minho is straight, let me just...make that exceptionally clear (and let's not mention the number of Thominho fics I've written about that ), but I needed an excuse as to why Minho wasn't attracted to Newt, and I could not think of another person to ship Minho with who was not either Newt or Thomas. I didn't want this fic to have too much angst, though a little bit is definitely going to happen whether I want it to or not. I mean, logically , I could've shipped Minho with Gally, Ben, Alby, (Teresa, even!) a lot of other people, in fact, but I just can't see Minho with anybody else who's not Thomas or Newt. Therefore, Minho is straight, but let's just get it straight (pun intended) that I...firmly disagree with that statement).

By the way, why does my writing remind me of Jane Austen's style in Pride and Prejudice? Does anyone have that feeling (as in my writing is very...old fashioned)?

#12 days of christmas #12 days of newtmas #day 1 #canon: christmas in the glade #12 days of newtmas 2020 #newtmas #newmas #thomas x newt #newt x thomas #tmr #the maze runner #in the maze #minho ships it

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