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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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Brain Scramblies

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader

Summary: Bubbly and sweet Reader slips and falls at Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party, hitting her head hard on the floor. Tommy tasks Joel, her grumpy patrol partner, with getting her home safe. In her dazed state, she spills to Joel how she really feels about him! Basically two idiots dancing around their feelings for each other

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Talk of traumatic brain injuries, but that’s it. Brief mention of smut but mostly goofy fluff. Joel is afraid of feelings lol

A/N: I actually don't feel fantastic about this story, but felt like you all deserved something new from me to satisfy the absence. Next week I'll have a bit more time to continue my bd!joel story and a few others! yes, the title is from wwdits. my other favorite show lol

if you like this story, please leave me a comment 🩷

masterlist

It’s a beautiful night, laughter and music fill the air of the Tipsy Bison bar in Jackson, Wyoming. It’s Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party and you were having a ball celebrating with the two of them. Tommy and Maria loved you, and you loved them. You often babysat their child, took care of chores around their home, and brought them baked goods and other treats. They loved you like you were their own.

The party was a blast, you spent the night dancing and chatting with Tommy and Maria and others. It couldn’t have been a better night.

Until you trip over your own feet. .

Boom. In one swift motion, too quick for your brain to process, your legs kick up into the air and your back slams the ground, your head following suit.

Your vision goes dark then, voices fading out. You feel a strong pair of hands grip your shoulders and jiggle your face slightly. You open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times, and the figure in front of you speaks. “Hey, now. Wake up, wake up, Jesus, girl. What did you do?” he asks, but his words sound muddled, like he’s underwater. “Maria, go get Joel. I think she might have a concussion.” he shouts in the opposite direction.

Your fuzzy vision focuses then and you recognize the friendly face and long black hair in front of you. It’s Tommy. You squint your eyes and look around, confused as to why you’re on the floor. The lights are blindingly bright and the music is blaring. It’s too much for your senses.

“Can you hear me, honey? You took quite a tumble and it looked like you hit your head pretty hard. Drink too much?”

You struggle to respond, finding it difficult to form words and coherent thoughts. You feel dazed and foggy and there’s a pounding throb at the back of your head. and “Think I tripped,” you finally mumble out, carefully prodding the back of your skull.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, you klutz,” he chuckled, tilting your chin and looking into your eyes. “Maria’s getting Joel, I think we’re gonna have him take you home. Infirmary’s closed at this time of night but we can get you checked out tomorrow, make sure you didn’t thump your head too hard.”

Joel. Your eyes widened at the mention of him. Now that was something your brain had no issue focusing on. “Your older brother, Joel?”

“Yes, Joel, my older brother,”

“I like Joel,”

“I know you do, honey,”

“I really like Joel,” you say through a long sigh. “Isn’t he just lovely?”

Tommy looks at you with an eyebrow cocked, completely amused by your honesty. Tommy and Maria had a feeling you were crushing on him, but you stayed tight lipped about your feelings for him. “Yeah, sure. Lovely describes Joel perfectly,”

Joel was your patrol partner. He was tall, handsome, brave, and skilled. He had the most gorgeous brown eyes you had ever seen, and the prettiest gentle curls atop his head. And he couldn’t fucking stand you.

You didn’t often go on patrol, but everyone pitched in with patrol around Jackson. Being so near and dear to Tommy and Maria’s hearts, they wanted the best for you and always put you on patrol with Joel. He’d keep you safe, they told you.

And he did keep you safe. But not without constant grumbling and griping about your sprightly attitude and constant chatter. He thought he had it rough with Ellie, but she was a walk in the park compared to you, with your sweet and pure heart and bubbly personality.

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?” you asked him once while traveling horseback through a grassy meadow. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were big and fluffy and tall. The wildflowers were blooming left and right, painting the grass with violet and crimson. You held onto Joel tightly, pressing your face against his back. He tried his best to ignore how much he enjoyed the feeling of your arms around his stomach.

“You ask too many goddamn questions,” he grunted.

“That’s not an answer,” you scolded playfully.

Joel stayed silent. You were like an annoying, buzzing bee. If he ignored you, hopefully you’d go away. Easy, he thought. Just ignore the annoying, cute, thoughtful, and beautiful bee.

You asked him again. Maybe he didn’t hear you, you spoke into his right side after all. Still, nothing. “Joel?”

You could hear him inhale and exhale deeply. He was definitely ignoring you. That just wouldn’t do.

So you pinched his side.

He yelped in surprise. “Ow! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I asked you a question,”

“I’m not answerin’,”

“That’s rude of you,”

“Yeah, well, tough,”

You pinched him again.

“Gaah!” Joel swatted your hand, nearly losing his balance. “Jesus, fucking snickerdoodles!” he hissed at you. Oh, how you got under his skin. Snickerdoodles were, in fact, his favorite cookies. He wasn’t just saying that to shut you up. His grandmother used to make them for him and Tommy when they were young. His heart broke a little at the thought of her, thankful she had passed long before the world went to shit. “Happy now?”

Yes, you were happy. You rubbed soothing circles into where you pinched him.

The next day, you whipped up a batch of the best snickerdoodles Joel would ever taste. You dropped them off on his doorstep and left, not alerting Joel or Ellie to what you had done.

Ellie was the one to find your cookies. “Joel, what’re these?” she called into their home, shoving a cookie into her mouth. Joel looked up, rolling his eyes when he recognized the treats in her hand. “Give me those,” he grumbled.

He took one cookie and examined it, then brought it to his lips. He took a bite, and melted when he tasted the sweet cinnamon and sugar cookie, so buttery and slightly tangy, just how a snickerdoodle should be. It was soft and chewy, just how he liked them.

And dear lord, it was orgasmic. The best snickerdoodle he had ever tasted. He prayed his grandmother up in heaven would forgive him for enjoying it so much, but this was definitely his new favorite. How dare you weasel your way into his heart with baked goods? What a contemptible thing to do. He felt his heart swell at the thought of you and your sweetness. And it fucking terrified him.

Joel put on his boots and practically sprinted to Tommy and Maria’s. Without knocking, he let himself inside and sat down at the table with Tommy as he tried to catch his breath. Tommy looked at him with wide eyes, completely perplexed by his brother. “You have to–” he stopped for a second, breathing in and out deeply. “You have to take her off patrol with me. I ain’t gonna be her partner anymore.” Joel’s heaving began to slow.

“And why would I do that, Joel?”

“She talks too much,”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. Joel Miller, ever the grinch. Heart two sizes too small. “Are we eight years old? Suck it up, big brother,”

Joel shook his head, squinting his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose. “She fuckin’ pinched me,” Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Twice!”

Tommy smiled at the thought of sweet little you pinching Joel. “I’m sure she had a good reason for pinchin’ you. What’d you do to her?”

“I didn’t–it doesn’t matter,” Joel sighed exasperatedly. He had a penchant for the dramatics at times. “You don’t get it. She made me cookies.”

Tommy gasped sarcastically. “No, not cookies. How horrible, Joel! What should we do with her, throw her in jail? Banish her? Feed her to lions?”

“Tommy,” Joel warned with a low voice. “I am not doin’ patrol with her anymore.”

“Joel,” Tommy warned back, matching his tone. “Quit your bitchin’. She’s a nice girl, and you’re gonna take care of her. She likes you, why, I haven’t got a clue.”

Tommy knew the real reason Joel wanted to stop patrolling with you. He was catching feelings for you. And Joel reacted exactly how Tommy expected. He was frightened of these feelings, terrified to let anyone new into his heart. He already made room for Ellie and her bad puns, he didn’t know if he had room for you and your snickerdoodles as well. He did. You were already there.

Joel and Maria appeared in front of you then, your eyes brightening when you met Joel’s sour expression.

“What’d you do now, trouble?”

Trouble. That was Joel’s nickname for you. When he and Ellie finished your cookies, he returned your container to you on your porch.

“Thanks for the cookies, trouble. They were delicious,” he said, his voice was low and gravelly. “Didn’t need to do all that for me.”

“Trouble? Is that what I am?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah, actually. Pinchin’ me. Talkin’ too much,” Joel did his best to bite back the smile threatening to form on his lips. “And now you’re tryin’ to make me fat, so yeah. You’re a troublemaker.”

Your glassy eyes scanned his face. “What did you do now, trouble?”

Joel bent down to meet your gaze and Maria checked the back of your head for cuts or swelling.

“Maria says you’re hurt. What’d you do?”

“I tripped and fell,” Joel scoffed. “Figures,” Joel pushed Tommy to the side, crouching in front of you. He took your face into his hands, checking for any other injuries. Your eyes were unfocused and pupils blown wide. He held a finger in front of your eyes, moving it from side to side. You had difficulty following the movement.

“Ouch,” you winced, feeling Maria’s fingers on the tender spot at the back of your head. “I think she smacked her head pretty hard.” she told Tommy. “Very swollen back here.”

“She’s not following my finger. Think it’s probably a concussion, but I don’t know for sure,” he said. “She seems pretty out of it.”

In your fuzzy state, you reached forward and held Joel’s face, mimicking how he did to you. “Handsome,” you murmured.

Joel felt his face go hot at your compliment. You thumbed his cheeks, savoring the feeling of his prickly hairs on your fingertips. “Uhh,”

“You’re so handsome,” you repeated. Not even drinking a barrel of whiskey could have pried that out of you. You did a number on your poor brain.

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Joel turned his head to the side and coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from his face as you pouted. “Think she needs to go home.” “That’s right. You make sure she gets home safe,” Tommy said.

Joel looked up with a furrowed brow. “Me? Why can’t you deal with her?” his words came out more bitter than he intended, like taking you home was the biggest inconvenience of his life.

“Hey,” you whined. How rude!

Joel apologized quickly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that,”

“Because it’s our anniversary, and I told you to keep her safe. Remember? Come on now, Joel. Be a gentleman,” Tommy motioned to Maria to help you up. Slowly, you stood up. On shaky legs, you felt your knees begin to give out. Joel lunged forward to catch your fall.

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. Joel held out his arm for you and you wrapped your hands around his bicep. “Can you walk for me, trouble?” He didn’t actually mind leaving the party early. He wasn’t having too much fun anyway.

“I’ll do anything for you, Joel,” you erupted into a fit of giggles. “You’re so strong!”

Joel felt his face go warm again as he cleared his throat. Wow, you really did hit your head hard. Joel was used to being flirted with, but this was an entirely different animal. You hit your head so hard it knocked your filter loose. What would you say next?

His eyes darted to Tommy and Maria, who stood there watching you both, smirking. “Take good care of our girl,” Maria ordered.

Joel begins walking slowly, taking careful steps. You stumble along and can hardly maintain your footing as you make your way out of the bar. You’re still giggling and squeezing his arm. “You are so strong and so handsome!” you squeal.

“Jesus,” he whispered to himself. Was this real you or concussed you speaking?

You walked silently for a bit, gaining a slow and steady rhythm. The world around you blurred and moved quickly.

“I have a crush on you,” you blurt out with slurred speech.

“That’s nice, trouble,” Joel said, not believing you. You might as well be completely wasted, the way you were making no sense.

“I mean it,”

“I’m sure you do,” Joel replied sardonically. You tripped again, nearly falling over a second time. Joel caught you and held you tightly. Frustrated, he groaned.“Alright, no more talking. We’re playing the quiet game the rest of the way home,”

“Seriously,” you giggle. “You’re so fucking handsome. You’re the most handsomest man I’ve ever met,” You kept walking and stumbling awkwardly. It was as if you weren’t even walking, just floating along. Your legs didn’t feel real.

“Thank you,” Joel mumbles. He was never good at accepting compliments. But you seem so insistent on informing him of his good looks, he might as well take the compliments in stride.

“You have such pretty brown eyes. Did you know that?”

“I did not,”

“You do. And you have pretty hair,” you paused for a second, catching your breath. “And you have a nice butt,” Joel rolls his eyes, biting back his smile. “I want to have sex with you.”

“Woah,” he barks at you, unable to contain his shock at your sudden boldness. Where is your fucking filter? Is this even real? Joel will be thinking of this night for weeks to come. “You have brain damage,” he tells you. “Need to stop talking like this,”

“You have brain damage!” You giggle, your feet crossing with Joel’s. Bam. It’s his turn to hit the ground now. You couldn’t walk in a straight line to save your life, even with Joel supporting you. “Oh, shoot. I tripped you.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Joel stands up and without asking permission, he lifts your body over his shoulder. He tries to ignore the fact that your ass is so close to his face. You erupt into laughter, absolutely tickled by his actions. “I know this probably isn’t great for your head, but we need to move. Almost home anyway,”

“Fine by me, handsome!” you poke his back and his sides. He’s trying to fight off the tingles your touch leaves on his skin. “Are you gonna take me home and have sex with me?”

“Behave,” he warns you. “No, I am not having sex with you. I’m puttin’ you to bed and going to try to forget any of this ever happened. Now quiet, you.”

You let out an angry groan, but oblige. You’re running out of steam, fogginess filling your head even more. You can hardly keep your eyes open.

Before you know it, Joel is at your doorstep and sets you down. “Where are your keys?” he asks you.

You slap your thigh, indicating that your keys are in the front right pocket of your jeans. Joel pulls you close and quickly pulls the keys out of your jeans, looking up into the sky to avoid your gaze. He’d need to drink an ocean of alcohol to forget this night.

Joel fumbles with the keys, trying each one and jiggling it in your door. He figured asking you which key was futile, you were so far gone.

As he’s working diligently to open your door, you can’t help but sigh in admiration. His back muscles tense through his shirt, the fabric stretching and moving back. And god, his ass. So round and plump in his tight jeans. You can’t help yourself. It needs to be pinched. “You really do have a nice butt,” you whisper.

You reach forward and pinch his ass with your thumb and pointer finger. Joel jumps and whips around. “What is wrong with you?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, but his frustrated heart softens when he sees your expression. You’re smirking, eyes big and without a single thought behind them. You have no idea what you’re doing. He knows that. The real you would probably die of embarrassment if she knew of your flirty and bold antics tonight. He can’t help the smile curling up on his lips. You have to mean all of it, right?. All the compliments and confessions. He knows they’re all true. At least, he hopes they are.

Joel grabs your hand and helps you inside. He leads you through your house, checking each door to find your room. He could ask you, but he really doesn’t want you talking. You need to relax.

Once he finds your room, he turns on the light, leads you inside, and helps you sit your bed. Your room reflects your personality perfectly, so bright and colorful. Decorations everywhere.

Then, he leaves.

You feel like crying. Your head feels so murky and full, and the pounding has worsened. “Joel?” your voice is thick.

No answer. He just left without saying goodbye?

Your bottom lip wobbles and you feel tears well up in your eyes as your heart begins to break. How did you even end up here? What even happened tonight? All you knew is that you felt cold and sick and all alone. Your head feels like it’s going to fall right off.

You sniffle and hear a thump in the distance. And then another. And another. They’re getting louder now. Footsteps.

Joel returns and your heart blooms. He always kept you safe, even when you drove him fucking nuts. Of course he wouldn’t just leave you. You see that he has a glass of water in his hand.

He sits on the bed and faces you. You smile gently, admiring all of his features. His scars, his freckles. His sparkly brown eyes. His salt and pepper mustache. “You didn’t leave?”

“‘Course not,” he grips the back of your head softly and tilts it back, then presses the glass to your lips. “Gotta make sure you’re safe, right?” He doesn’t let you respond to his question and tilts the glass into your mouth, forcing you to take a little sip of water.

“You take such good care of me, Joelie,” His cheeks turn rosy at his new nickname. How sweet it sounds from your lips. He presses the glass to your lips again and makes you drink.

“You’re so handsome,” Sip. “Did you know I have a crush on you?” sip.

“I did, actually,” Sip. “Now drink. You need to finish the glass.”

Sip. “You have such gorgeous brown eyes. Like coffee beans,” you whisper. Sip.

“Is that right? Coffee beans?” Well, that’s a thoughtful compliment. He doesn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.

“Mhm,” Sip. “And your butt–”

“What about my butt?” he teases you with a raised eyebrow. You won’t remember any of this anyway, he might as well play along.

“Like a peach,” “A peach, huh?” He presses the glass to your lips again, this time not pulling it away. You drink the rest of the water.

“What about a peach, Joelie?” you question. Your eyes are big and lost. It’s as if the last thirty seconds didn’t happen.

Your forgetfulness would have worried Joel, but he was no stranger to concussions. Had a few of his own. His daughter, Sarah, also had sustained a few concussions from flying soccer balls. She’d be like this too, acting goofy and speaking incoherently. She was always back to normal within a day or two. You would be okay too.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” Joel lifts your legs onto the bed and takes off your shoes, plopping each on the ground. He pulls a knitted blanket over your body and gently leans your head back into your pillows.

You stare into his eyes, his gorgeous coffee bean eyes, let out a big yawn. Your eyes are heavy now and your head feels like a weight, like you couldn’t lift it even if you tried. Joel stares back at you, the gears in his head are spinning. He places an experimental hand on your head and combs his fingers over your scalp.

He continues stroking your scalp, soothing you. Your eyes fall shut, and within seconds you’re in a peaceful slumber.

He doesn’t leave. He stays with you for another minute, making sure you’re really asleep.

He still doesn’t leave. One more minute passes.

He’s still sitting there, stroking your head. He can’t bring himself to leave you. He needs to make sure you’re safe, just like Tommy and Maria told him to.

He’ll stay here all night, gently stroking your head and your back. Telling himself he’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s all. “Goodnight, trouble,” he whispers.

He’ll deal with his feelings later.

Part two: troublemaker

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #strang3lov3 #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #i love laszlo cravensworth #brain scramblies

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motherofdogs1010 · 9 months

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Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence

😊 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😊 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.

The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?

"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"

"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."

It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.

He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"

Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.

"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"

Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.

Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"

"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.

She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."

Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.

"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.

"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."

Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.

Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.

"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."

"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.

"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."

Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.

"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.

Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.

He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.

"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."

His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.

Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.

She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.

Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.

"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."

Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.

Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.

"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.

"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.

"Quite the performance you put on."

She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.

"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."

She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #reader insert #thomas shelby

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fromxxthexxashes · 5 months

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One thing I learned in my screenwriting class is that things and details put into film/TV are intentional. Leave aside misplaced coffee cups, boom mics, and sneakers, everything that ends up in the final cut is important. As we learned with 7x06, time is an incredibly limited commodity, and sometimes things get cut. That means that whatever shots/scenes/moments end up being in the final edit are there for a reason. With that being said, I think it’s incredibly interesting that Eddie is being included - narratively, blocking, and camera framing-wise - in Buck’s journey with discovering his sexuality and his relationship with Tommy.

For one, why choose Eddie to befriend Tommy? They could have easily had Chimney hang out with Tommy, seeing as they already knew each other. But they choose Eddie, and they choose to have Buck spend the entire episode talking about Eddie. Why include confusion regarding whose attention Buck was really trying to get? Why show Buck coming to this conclusion that he was trying to get Tommy’s attention, but also show Buck talking about Eddie and peacocking in front of Eddie so consistently in 7x04? Why choose Eddie to be the one to interrupt the BuckTommy date? Why have Buck spend all of 7x05 more worried about lying to Eddie than about his failed date with Tommy? Why put so much time and emphasis on Buck’s coming out to Eddie? Why insert Eddie so obviously into Buck’s sexuality storyline, when they could be giving that precious screen time to Tommy?

In 7x06, Eddie comes in, proudly dressed up in the matching costume he suggested he and Buck wear. Right after Eddie comes in, Tommy enters wearing the most boring clothes anyone can wear to a party. Not only that, but Buck told him that there was an 80s theme, and he put in no effort to adhere to said theme. He was even dismissive about it, and Buck was clearly a little disappointed about it.

For one, why have Eddie show up first? They could have given that time to Tommy to enter first and develop that relationship if they really wanted the audience to root for them. Instead, they highlighted, once again this season, the relationship and effortless dynamic between Buck and Eddie. For another, why make such a big deal of Tommy being the odd one out, while vocally addressing the fact that Buck and Eddie are literally wearing matching costumes? They didn’t have to be matching, they could have worn any 80s costume. But they choose to dress these two in the attire of two characters in a TV show who are queer-coded partners and best friends.

Why show Eddie being arguably petty and jealous, with Tommy in that scene? Why frame him in the middle of them, why focus on Eddie’s reactions to Buck and Tommy? They could have focused and Buck and Tommy together and individually, but they chose to show Eddie right there in the middle and in the background.

And after Tommy leaves, do you know who stays? Do you know who is the only one that stays? Oh, yeah, it’s Eddie. It’s Eddie who easily goes along with Buck’s shenanigans. It’s Eddie that Buck clings to all night at the bachelor party. It’s Eddie that Buck shares most of his screen time with. They had to cut out 30 minutes of content for 7x06, yet they purposely included Eddie’s reaction to Buck coming out, when we already had his reaction. They could have included any number of people who we hadn’t seen react, but they chose to pan from Buck to Eddie.

They could give screen time to both Buck and Eddie’s current respective romantic partners, but they chose to give screen time to Buck and Eddie, consistently. Why keep making these choices to include Eddie in this storyline, and give precious screen time to that inclusion, if there is no intention to take it somewhere?

It’s all intentional, how they’re including Eddie. It’s all intentional how they keep showing us the relationship between Buck and Eddie. They’re subtly weaving in these moments, shots, comments, and scenes with Eddie and with Buck with the purpose of leading somewhere with Buddie as something more. It’s the same thing they did with Buck’s bisexuality. Now we look back at all the subtext and the little nods, and think “We were right” or “Oh, that makes sense”. They’re doing it with Buddie, too, and I think they have been for a while. They’re doing it so they can introduce this long-term friendship-to-romance arc in a way that is well-built and developed. They’re doing it so we could look back, and think “Oh, yeah, this has been developing this whole time”. They’re doing it so casual fans can be gradually warmed up and conditioned for Buddie, and for the more dedicated fans to notice, pick apart, and cling to. If they didn’t want us to root for Buck and Eddie they wouldn’t keep intentionally choosing to frame them as two people with an incredibly close bond that continuously overshadows their respective relationships. They’re writing and filming in this way so they can have these little, and sometimes not so little, moments to build on when they finally go somewhere romantic with Buck and Eddie.

#buddie #911 #911 on abc #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 spoilers #tv: 911 #911 season 7

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alchemistc · 4 months

Text

swing for the fences

He's already fucked up enough dates with his drama, he's thinking to himself as he sips his wine, and god, yeah, it's absolutely great that Tommy clocked the mood change bringing up Bobby caused, but Buck - he sort of just wants a moment in this, in this new thing that sort of turned his world upside down in the best way.

So. He lobs a softball, straight down the middle, throws out an easy daddy issues one liner, because he knows a little more about Tommy than he did a few weeks ago, knows he's got a quick mind and excellent timing and maybe he's fishing, just a little. There's been hints of it -- the dynamic that could evolve, if the right circumstances were met.

It's low hanging fruit, and Buck knows it. But Tommy doesn't swing, lets it fly right into the catchers mitt behind him, so Buck goes for a slider. Or maybe it's a knuckleball - he's mixing metaphors and the point is Tommy is an excellent flirt and Buck would like to be flirted with, please and thank you.

"But you think I do?"

There's a flash of a moment (sixty feet, six inches from mound to home plate) where Buck thinks it might be another swing and a miss. Tommy's eyes catch his --not that they've been off of him much for most of the evening, (god he's drowning in the prolonged eye-contact)-- and then, deadpan, Clack-Boom, knock it out of the fucking park --

"God I hope so."

Buck hadn't actually been sure if that was a thing he was into, but -- Jesus, yeah, yep, he's into it. It's a fight not to squirm in his seat, and Tommy clocks it, easy.

"Touch 'em all time," Buck murmurs, under his breath, thrown back to the radio calls he'd listened to in the Jeep on his drives through the mountains, the summer he spent in Colorado. Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's -- it's a baseball -- you sorta have to be in my head to get --." But he explains anyway, because for some unknown reason his filter goes from leaky to absolutely obliterated in Tommy's presence, and he's also desperately into the way Tommy looks at him when he's on a tangent -- intent, focused, like he's cataloging the questions he's gonna ask once Buck slows down the train.

Halfway through his convoluted explanation about home run calls and living west of the divide and ranch hand duties and then looping right back around to his murky metaphor for the way Tommy flirts and how it makes his heart beat out of his chest and his femoral artery throb in his thigh (Tommy grins, wide, pleased, eyes going a little dark even though it's the most ridiculous way to say he's hard up and hot for him) Tommy leans back, hooks his foot around Buck's ankle and rests it there, just a steady pressure.

"I have so many questions, but the most pressing one right now is do you have pictures of the ranch hand summer?"

Buck grins, and presses the meat of his calf back into Tommy's toes.

#yeah apparently this is gonna be a thing #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 fic #i really will do anything to shoehorn a bunch of sportsball terms into a fic

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eddiespornstache · 3 months

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Eddie gets a boyfriend and Buck is feeling super jealous about it, like he needs to maim somebody again

but he wants to be honest about it and he goes to Tommy and tells him what’s going on in his head and Tommy’s brow furrows and his nostrils flare

and Buck’s like “oh no you’re mad at me,” and Tommy’s like, “no I’m not. I’m jealous too. Eddie should be ours” and boom. Buddietommy

#buddietommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 headcanons #buck x eddie x tommy

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

How about (dbf?) Joel sharing you with Tommy? I know I always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower 🫣

Tommy's hard day (free use)

3k / darkish!Joel x fem!reader x darkish!Tommy

Joel master list: free use section

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. free use, dubcon (pressure/gray area) blow jobs, MFM threesome w/ Tommy & Joel Miller, cucking, unprotected P in V, creampie, Pre or non-outbreak.

A/N: Shout-out to multiple Joel & Tommy Anons incl. under-table Anon, and @milla-frenchy, sorry if I'm leaving anyone off lmk.

🖤

“Lookin’ good tonight, baby."

Joel says that almost every night. He takes a sip of his Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, puts down the bottle, and rolls up his sleeves. He leans back in his chair. You steal a glance at his bicep flexing, straining his shirt as his arm moves slowly under the table. You’re doing dishes in the kitchen wearing a thin, cotton sundress he bought you with sunflowers on it.

Joel lifts his hips to unbutton and unzip his jeans. When he's done he picks up his beer again and his other hand beckons you with a finger as he takes a sip. When he puts it back down, he pushes his chair back a few inches from the table, and you know what that means. You're salivating for it. You wash your hands and smile at him knowingly. He doesn’t return the smile, but you see it in his eyes as they follow you to the table.

You come around his chair, walking between Joel’s seat and the door to the garage. You put one hand on the back of the chair and one on the table and bend your knees.

“Wait a minute, c’mere,” he says softly and slides a hand up the back of your leg under your dress. He palms your ass, then rotates you toward him. He swings his legs around to face you and makes room for you between them. Both his hands rub your thighs and ass, and he nuzzles his face into your breasts as you finger his hair. He kisses your nipples through your dress - no bras in this house - moaning into the cotton as he keeps groping your behind. He smacks your ass and says, “Okay, baby,” then turns back around to face the table.

You get on the floor between his knees. His work boots and jeans are dusty with cement mix. He hasn't showered or changed since he got home from work. His big, veiny hand holds his cock for you to take. He's already fully hard for you as you wrap your hand around it and inhale his musk. You lick the underside from his balls to the tip and he sighs softly. Then you take him into your mouth, immediately sucking in half his shaft. You suck him as far as you can, getting his whole cock wet. The tip inches briefly into your throat - you can't do that for long since it barely fits. You start by bobbing your head halfway down his shaft and work the bottom with your hand.

You’ve only been at it for a minute when the front door opens and you stop. “You’re not gonna believe this shit,” Tommy booms.

You freeze, but Joel mutters, “Don’t stop, baby,” and brings a comforting hand to your head. “What happened?” Joel yells. Tommy’s boots thud as he gets closer. You’re facing the opposite direction so you can’t see him, and the other chairs at the table hopefully block him from seeing you. Joel’s fingers lightly nudge your head and you resume sucking him off. Tommy goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge.

“It’s her goddamn doctor,” Tommy says incredulously as he opens a bottle of beer. Apparently, Maria has been cheating on him.

“Damn. Fucked up,” Joel says.

Tommy pulls out a seat from the table and sits down. His feet are dangerously close to yours. You scoot closer to Joel. You freeze again and Joel’s fingertips pull you back down on his cock. You slowly, quietly continue your work.

“Can you believe that?” Tommy says. “What do I do here? What would you do?” He’s so preoccupied with his marital agony that he hasn’t noticed anything amiss at all. Joel leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, his belly nudging your head as he grabs his beer then sits back.

“What would I do?" Joel repeats.

"Nah, she would never,” Tommy says about you. “You dunno how lucky you are, Joel. A woman like that? So loyal, too.” He sounds genuine. “She’s a good girl, Joel.”

“No shit,” Joel says.

Encouraged by Tommy’s praise and Joel’s agreement, you suck Joel more thirstily, taking him deeper into your mouth, then your throat, sucking hard. Joel leans back and takes a deep breath, then exhales "fuck."

Tommy mirrors Joel’s body language, leans back in his chair and stretches his feet out. And his boot hits your bare foot. “Sorry,” he says, assuming he hit Joel.

“For what?”Joel asks. Then Tommy casually looks under the table.

“Fuck me,” Tommy whispers. “What the fuck, man?” As if you can’t hear him.

“Ya didn’t knock, ring the doorbell. . . “ Joel says. Tommy starts to get up. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Sit down,”Joel tells him quietly and you can imagine Joel’s stare when he does it. He’s so dominant, so quietly imposing. He doesn't have to tell Tommy twice, but Joel continues, “Stay a while. Know it's been a hard day."

You look up at Joel and he winks at you. He’s asked you before how you’d feel about Tommy watching. You dared to ask why Tommy. Joel said Tommy’s harmless. What that really meant was Tommy’s not a threat. Joel is so confident in his dominance and control over both of you that he doesn’t have to worry at all.

Tommy says, “So, uh. . .” having lost his whole train of thought.

Joel takes a deep, contemplative breath.

“Tell ya what, go sit in my chair, take a load off. Be in there in a minute.” Joel nods toward the living room. Tommy takes his beer with him.

Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as he stands up and mutters, “sorry” again. His boots thud across the linoleum then disapper onto the carpet.

Joel’s voice is low and soft. “He’s had a bad day, baby. Why don't ya give'm some sugar?”

“What?” you ask, your face heating up.

Joel makes a fist and sticks his tongue in his cheek pantomiming a blow job.

You’re hesitant - what if Joel ends up getting jealous?

“Just this once baby,” he whispers. “Hot for me to see a different angle.”

You don’t hate the idea of having another man’s cock in your mouth, and this might be your only chance. But most of all, you love pleasing Joel. So if this is what he wants, you’ll do it.

"Go on,” Joel says and nods toward the living room.

Joel doesn’t bother putting his dick away when he pushes back from the table and stands up. He walks into the living room and sits down on the sofa. He’s hung and he’s proud. Tommy tries not to look at Joel’s equipment but his eyes go wide and he looks away.

You smooth your dress as you emerge from under the table and head toward the living room. Joel is manspreading with his hard cock in his hand, sending a pang of desire through your chest to your core. It occurs to you this may be a rare occasion to see or at least hear Joel jack off, too. Normally you take care of all his needs, but it’s so sexy when he does it himself.

“Look, I caught you at a bad time, man,” Tommy says to Joel when he sees you joining them. He assumes you're headed for Joel, and he starts to stand up.

“Sit down,” Joel tells him again. Joel looks at you with those pretty brown eyes and nods toward Tommy. You approach Tommy in Joel's chair then look back at Joel.

“Go on,” Joel says. You nudge Tommy's legs apart on the sturdy ottoman and push it flush with the chair. His legs slide off to either side of it, spread wide. He's dumbfounded, frozen. You kneel on the ottoman. This gives you more of an overhead angle than you had under the table with Joel. You've knelt here and sucked Joel off in this chair plenty of times.

“Whoa, Joel, this is –”

First you feel him through his pants. He’s semi-hard.

“Don’t be rude, Tommy. Help her with your pants.”

Tommy still hesitates, like he thinks it’s a trap. You sense Joel’s going to get pissed if Tommy doesn’t get on with it, so you help him. “Good girl,” Joel tells you from the sofa. The armchair is roughly perpendicular to the sofa, but a few feet away. Joel has a back corner view.

You sit back on your heels. Tommy’s heart is racing, you can see his heartbeat through his shirt. His shallow breaths make you nervous for him. “Joel, I feel like you’re gonna snap out of it and kill me for this.” Tommy still hasn’t addressed you directly.

“Won’t kill ya,” Joel says with an eye roll. "Promise. . .But come on, let’s go already." He spits in his hand to supplement your saliva.

You brace your arms on Tommy’s thighs and take his cock out. It's pretty nice - of course it is, he's a Miller. To you, it's not nearly as commanding as Joel's, but you know you're biased. They're just different. Tommy isn't as girthy. You're not sure about length. Tommy's has virtually no visible veins. You look back at Joel to see how he's doing. He looks smug. "Go on, baby."

You wrap your lips around Tommy’s tip and he inhales sharply. He puts his beer on the end table and digs his fingers into the plush arms of the chair for dear life. You suck down on his shaft and he comes to full mast in your mouth. He tastes different, too. Blander and not as salty. Tommy looks straight up at the ceiling, not wanting to see Joel or Joel’s cock. Tommy occasionally glances down at you, but you never make eye contact. Meanwhile, Joel isn’t looking at Tommy, just you. The way your body is curled in on itself in your sunflower dress and how pretty your mouth looks wrapped around a Miller cock.

“You’re so damn hot, baby," Joel says as he strokes himself. You keep sucking Tommy, aroused by the sounds of Joel jacking off. He spits in his hand again. You pretend it’s Joel in your mouth, but your jaw isn’t getting sore like it normally would. You flex your toes then covertly slide a heel between your legs for friction as you listen to Joel jerk off. Joel sighs, then the springs of the sofa creak as he stands up from it.

Joel makes his way over to you. You can feel him getting closer. You move your heel out from under yourself lest he think you’re trying to get off with Tommy. Joel presses his hard cock against the back of your bare shoulder, making your clit twitch. You freeze with the head of Tommy’s cock in your mouth. “It’s okay, baby," Joel says. “You look hot with a cock in your mouth.”

This is starting to feel surreal. Joel grabs at your breast and you leave your arms on Tommy's thighs as Joel plays with your nipple. Joel nudges you up on your knees, then lifts your dress up, leaving it pulled up over your ass. He steps back and inhales deeply at the sight, then his thick fingers slide against your wet cunt, sending a bolt of arousal through you. Joel starts working your clit like only he can, making you wetter. When he dips a finger into you to check, he mutters, "good girl." You’re ready for him.

The firm head of Joel's cock nudges your entrance. He wiggles it forward, notching it for entry. His large hands grip your hips. He pulls you back toward his clothed thighs and plunges his hard cock into you with a sigh, the momentum pushing your head forward on Tommy’s cock as your body adjusts to Joel's girth. Tommy gasps at the jolting sensation, still looking at the ceiling.

Joel retreats then plunges into you again, to the hilt, almost gagging you on Tommy’s cock as your ass slams into his jeans, held up only by their tightness. Each time Joel fills you up, his strong hands pull you back, your ass pushes back into him on its own, too. Joel grunts unrestrained as if it’s just the two of you – even more than usual, really. The sounds of Joel’s pleasure always turn you on. You’re getting wetter and wetter around Joel's cock as he rails into you. You give up on controlling your rhythm on Tommy’s cock and let the force of Joel’s thrusts do it all. Tommy tries not to make noise, but he breathes heavily and the occasional sigh slips out. Joel sighs loudly as he slams his length into you.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel murmurs. “Always tight 'n wet” He sighs and groans softly.

"S'weird, man," Tommy says to the ceiling.

Joel doesn't reply, but he does lean forward and stretch his arms out, putting a hand on each of your shoulders for leverage. He fucks you harder, vocalizing and breathing louder. You gag only because of the force and your nose is smashed into Tommy's public bone.

Joel buries his length deep inside you, hitting the right spot, pushing an obscene moan out of you and onto Tommy's dick. Joel freezes, all the way inside you.

That's enough, baby," he mutters. Joel seems to have no issue with Tommy's cock in your mouth, but apparently can't stand to hear you moaning into it.

Joel reaches forward and firmly wraps his hand around the nape of your neck where it meets your shoulders. He pulls your head off Tommy’s cock, wraps his other arm around your front, and gropes a breast as he pulls you up.

Tommy starts jerking off feverishly. You don’t dare to look right at him, but you can see him. You feel the fear in his eyes boring into you, like he wants to finish and get out before Joel kills him.

"To the left," Joel directs you. Without pulling out, he rotates you on the ottoman so you're not looking at Tommy. Joel’s arms are wrapped around you with one hand between your legs and one across your breasts. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he fucks you. He grabs your tit and strokes your clit. He doesn't often bother. He doesn't often need to, but the nerves have gotten to your head in this case. And Joel’s not going to fuck his wife in front of someone without making her come. He nibbles at your neck - the side away from Tommy - and murmurs, "ya did good.” His voice is low, gruff, and quiet. He rails into you faster. “Now come for me, baby.”

Without the preoccupation of an unfamiliar cock in your mouth, your orgasm builds rapidly. But not as fast as Tommy's. Tommy comes with a stifled groan and you avoid looking in his direction, as hot as it is to watch a man come.

Joel pistons into you faster and you feel like you might burst. His hands feel so good when he's chasing your pleasure. Surprisingly, you don’t really want this to end. But your end is in sight. You don't know if Joel wants you to be quiet or not, so you act natural. You let the sighs flow out of your lungs with Joel's big cock filling you up on the edge of climax. Joel softly bites down and moans into your neck. Your spine arches, you gasp, then say "Jo-" but cut yourself off with moan and he releases your neck from his mouth.

"Yeah, baby," he growls quietly. “Come on my cock.”

Joel holds you steady as you unravel in his arms, moaning his name. You savor his arms tightening around you.

Joel pants "Love you, baby," cock still railing into you. Then he erupts inside you, pulsing massively. You’re still coming, contracting around his shaft, your peak intensified by his own pulsations. His arm and hand press your breasts into your body as he empties his balls and you savor each pump. When he stops moving, you lean back into him, spent. He hugs you and kisses you tenderly on the neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, Tommy tucks his dick away. Joel pulls out of you and puts your dress back down. "Go clean up," he tells you, then gives you a kiss on the lips with an intense affection in his eyes. You don't make eye contact with Tommy and you still haven’t spoken to each other.

You go upstairs to take a shower. That was wild, but you didn't hate it. You got to hear Joel jack off, and it was special the way he paid so much attention to your pleasure. He touched you for you, not just for him. It’s hot in its own way when he touches you for his own pleasure, but there was something about feeling him being so focused on yours. It’s not that it never happens, but it’s not very often, and never with such urgency. He also talked much more than usual. You hadn’t heard him like that in a couple of years.

With Tommy watching, Joel did all the things you thought you didn't need. As much as Joel's cock does for you--and it does a lot--you're remembering that it can be even better. You don’t want to end the free use. It turns you on, thinking about him taking you at any moment. But you wonder if there’s a way to have Joel be like this just a little more often.

Meanwhile, Joel stuffs himself back in his pants and collapses onto the sofa to relax. Tommy stands up nervously to leave, unsure if he should thank Joel or what.

"Where ya goin'?" Joel asks, like nothing just happened. "You wanna tell me 'bout Maria? Want another beer?"

Thank you so much for your engagement and support! Please check your content settings and consider following me if you wanna make sure you see my stuff. You can always click "MY FICS" in my profile header if you wanna see what "actual content" you missed chronologically.

@ireadwithmyears

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore

#joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #free use!joel☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller #pedro pascal fic #joel miller/you #dark!joel miller #tommy miller smut #tommy miller x reader x joel miller #cuck!tommy miller #cuck!tommy #cuck!Joel miller #love2cuck #tw incest #by proximity only

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suckerforlovesblog · 1 year

Text

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby rough smut #tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy

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modelbus · 5 months

Note

Wrote this last night, ITS A COOL IDEA BUT ITS BARELY COMPREHENSIBLE!

Y/n is an ender dragon hybrid that was unsafe in the end, so Mumza (goddess of death) put them on Phil’s doorstep when they were like a month old. Phil is an adoptive parent to Techno, Tommy and Y/N. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are close friends, growing up Y/N was also close with them. Phil lives in a snowy biome, Techno and tommy have renovated bedrooms from when they were little for when they stay over. The main town is a big clearing in a forest with a river running through. (There’s no government-) Niki runs a flower themed bakery that also sells flowers, Puffy runs a training center, & literally all dsmp people you feel comfortable writing live there, so they can be in a crowd. (not wilbur ofc)

Y/N went missing 5 years ago, when they were 11. (Tommy was 8, Techno was 16) they were looking at the stars from a bench on a forested cliff they liked hanging out at cuz it had a view of their house and the mountains behind it, and XD found them while doin his thing and was like “wait- you’re supposed to be in the end, small child.. I don’t care the void is spreading and its going from looking like a purple and yellow overworld to a bunch of floating islands.” So he /tp’d them back to the end- KEKW anyway- Y/N’s time in the end decays them, turning the ends of their limbs (including their tail and wings) all void like and glitchy but also scales and they’re tall- (do I make any sense rn?) oh, and the endermen try to kill them but shulkers are nice. SO TRAUMA AND TRAPPED IN THE END FIVE YEARS tryna get tf out and go home but surprise being in the end makes em really powerful as the void melds with their soul and basically says “HEY! DRAGON KID, HIIII! YOU’RE COOL, WE’RE GONNA SLOWLY ATTACH TO YOU!.. oh daym your not dying like everything else we try to be friends with..” BOOM VOID POWERS, ITS ALL GLITCHY LOOKING AND BLACK HOLE STUFF, BUT THE VOID IS NICE AND DON’T MEAN TO EAT THINGS SO NOW THEY CAN CONTROL IT KINDA AND FLY AND STUFF.. eventually their void powers get all strong and shit so they can go home, but htey kinda fly around and see all their friends and family acting completely normal and having a GRAVE despite knowing Y/N was still alive somewhere. the void is mad that their family stopped looking for them despite there being no death messages on their communicators so like a protective bestie its all like “bro you gonna take that? You gonna let them forget you like this?. Hellll no.” And they are also like ‘wtf man YOU KNEW I WASN’T DEAD BUT GAVE UP LOOKING-?!’ After spending five years just trying to find a way back home.. SO VILLAIN ARK, THEY START BUILDING A HUGE CASTLE AND ITS LIKE BLACK & PURPLE EVIL CASTLE LAIR TYPA THING. the void oopsie kills the area around so its all like black and decayed around the castle and its like REAL evil lair shit. Y/N sends ominous notes with the coordinates acting like someone who kidnapped her being all like “come here and bring everything you have if want them back.” So they bring (insert all members mothy picks) along with them and go the the castle, BOOM ITS LIKE AN ESCAPE ROOM KINDA THING WITH PUZZLES AND TRAPS N SHIT. so they slowly make their way up to the throne room thats like at the top fighting things and doin puzzles but when they make it to the top they rise up on a little circle platform into the room all ready to see Y/N in a cage next to some big bad guy. but they see Y/N (5 years older than they last saw them) LOOKING LIKE A FUCKING EVIL QUEEN(or king or ruler) WITH END PARTICLES AROUND THEM AND THEY’RE PARTLY MADE OF VOID AND ALL EVIL DRAGON HYBRID QUEEN BADASS SPOOKY. So they’re pissed and stuff tommy is the first to talk before everyone else joins asking questions and being all confused and sad so they talk a little then they get pissed not believing how sad they are acting so they sends mobs made of materialised void to attack them from their throne it goes on a while and they keep fighting and trying to reason with Y/N before tommy is trying to convince them their not lying and explains that they finally decided to give the town a name after they had been missing year and named it after Y/N & built a statue of them as a memorial in the town enter after two years when they finally stopped looking, and what Y/N saw was just a small grave at their childhood home. They don’t believe it at first but eveyones like why would we lie about that?? So Y/N is all like Wait what- so I’ve been hurting you all for no reason- and they end up being horrified with themself after seeing their reflection in the gems on their crown, drop it and break the wall to fly away while repeating ‘I’m so sorry’ and crying. We cut out at tommy picking up the crown all angsty.

I DO have ideas for another 3-5 parts so like if you manage make it into smth and wanna continue it just say the word. *eyes*

-✨🌌🌙 Annon

you wrote this like it’s a movie and god I wish I could edit shit because I’d make you the movie it deserves. I somehow included too many Greek mythology references and for that I’m so sorry…

Pairing: Gn!Hybrid!Reader x Philza, Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Ranboo (+ cameos)

Doomed Dragon

You love the sun. It’s bright, and warm, and feels like how warm cookies taste when it beams down on your wings. It’s nearly blinding when it reflects off all the snow, but you don’t mind. Sometimes blinding isn’t a bad type of blinding, or at least that’s what Tommy said.

Speaking of Tommy, he told you ages ago he’d be back with Tubbo and Ranboo, but he isn’t. They all ran off to Niki’s flower-bakery-awesome-place so Tubbo could buy some dandelions, and you (being the wise 11 year old you are) decided that suntanning your wings was a far better option. You never did get the hang of trudging through all the snow, and you didn’t want to slather your wings in sunscreen for a fly.

Dad says you’re an ender dragon hybrid. It was a lot of fancy words that led to Techno poking and prodding at you, but you figure it’s practically the same as Dad’s wings. After all, his are black like yours, even if his are feathered and yours aren’t.

“Move it.” Techno orders from behind you, stepping over your wings. You do not, in fact, move. “Phil told me I could check on the dogs.”

You never got why Techno called dad by his first name. You and Tommy both said dad, but Techno just had to be special. Dad said it was his ‘teenage’ phase, and Techno was 16, so he’s got 4 whole years before he’ll call him dad again. Then the second half of his sentence clicks, and you gasp.

“Can I come with?” You plead, but he’s already shaking his head. “Please! I won’t even touch any, I swear!”

“You know they’re scared of your wings.” Techno huffs.

“I’ll tuck them under a blanket really well!”

“They have noses. Besides, aren’t you waitin’ for the rest of your group? What if they come back?”

You puzzle this over, then sigh. “Fine. But be super nice to the dogs for me.”

“Will do.”

Techno vanishes into the snowbanks, his red cloak and pink hair being swallowed up in the white of snow. He better give those dogs your love, or you’ll steal his special shiny books.

You settle into your sunbathing, eyes closing. After a few moments, there’s a thud.

“Techno, I know there’s no way you have those dogs my love—“ you start, eyes still closed.

“Not Technoblade, child.” The voice is echoey, and you jolt up. From above you, a man with two white wings and two glowing rings around his head stares. Looking at him too long makes your eyes hurt, and when you glance away you’ve already forgotten what he looks like.

“Who are you?” You ask sassily, because this is definitely a newcomer. They have wings like dad, but their pretentious ass clothing reminds you of Techno.

“You can call me XD. And you’re out of where you belong. Don’t worry, I’ll get you back to The End in no time.” A hand settles on your shoulder, and panic flares in your mind, because dad taught you all about stranger danger.

Before you can even scream, your stomach twist and drops, and the world around you vanishes entirely.

The End sucks. That was one undeniable truth; The End is horrible and you hate it. Between shulkers—purple things that open to shoot other things that make you float—and the endermen, you were over it.

Although, you had one friend in all the darkness and desolate floating islands. It never gave you a name, and whatever it spoke it certainly wasn’t English, but you understood it all the same. Even gave it a name; hard not to make friends with the one thing that seemed to speak back to you.

In a way, the void replaced the family that never found you.

“Morning, void.” You sigh, tossing a yellow rock into the darkness. It gets chucked back at you, entirely purple. “You’re in a mood today. Sad I didn’t die in the night like always?”

Silence. Then you feel the tingling in your wings, your long tail, the fingers that have turned purple. The void.

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“Yeah yeah.” You huff. “That’s me.”

You run your fingers alone the yellow stone below you. Mentally, you call it endstone. Seems fitting enough. Following your touch, purple spreads, eroding the stone. That’s been happening lately, and it always leaves the same tingling you get when the void speaks.

“This is so fucked.”

Ї ċḧöṡë ÿöü

“I didn’t ask to be chosen! I just want to go home.” Home to dad, and Techno, and Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and all the others.

Ẅḧö ṡäïḋ ÿöü ċäṅ’ẗ?

“Um, logic and the fact there’s no way off this stupid fucking island?” You roll your eyes. You can’t fly long distances, and you’re too scared to try flying off into the void.

The void doesn’t respond, but your breath still catches. Is it implying that you could? That if you did, there was a way out?

Strange things have been happening to you and your body since you got here. And not in the teenage puberty way that dad talked to you about. Your wings had grown, your tail had gained fucking spikes, purple stressed spreading over your skin. Even your hair started blackening at the ends.

And then there was the fact that when you touched things, they sometimes turned purple. Sometimes, when you were really upset, the object would vanish completely, leaving behind a black hole of nothing. A hole that looked oddly like the void.

You weren’t science-smart, mostly because Sam never taught you before XD dumped you here. But you sure as hell knew that wasn’t normal.

Staring into the void, you make up your mind. “If you’re fucking with me, void, I’ll kill you. Somehow.”

You stand up, spread your wings, and hesitate. Were you really trusting some disembodied voice that gave you fucked up powers? But then the image of a grown-up Tommy, of your dad bent over the kitchen table, of Techno’s back as he walked away from you, all flash in your mind.

And you step forward.

It happens in a blink. It feels a lot like teleporting, the way your stomach twists and drops, the way your breath is stolen from your lungs. But instead of falling into the unfamiliar like you had 5 years ago, you emerge flying, a new person.

There’s snow below you, wind lifting your wings. Wind. Real wind. The air isn’t oppressive, isnt weighing down on you, isn’t leaving a sour taste in your mouth. It feels like home.

You bank down, landing on your feet in the snow. Under you, it warps, purple and black spreading outwards, twisting at the edges. One blink and it’s white snow, another and it’s all wrong again. That never happened in the end.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re back. The world seems to call to you, a sense in your heart tugging you in a certain direction. You follow it on large wings.

Will Dad cry when he sees you? Will you finally see Techno emotional? Maybe they’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate being back: you’ve missed Bad’s cooking. Surely they’ve been searching for you, and you can’t wait to see their surprise when they realize you found your own way back.

The sun beaming down on you makes no hindrance in your flight. You aren’t Icarus, and the sun won’t stop you from being free. Techno used to tell you and Tommy that one, always joking that Tommy had the looks and you had the wings. Two halves of one whole.

You were about to reunite that whole.

Slowly, your home comes into view. The streets and buildings of the town, and just past that, the house you love. The house you can’t wait to sleep in for the next century. Dad is never getting rid of you.

It’s silent when you land, the second time your feet are touching the ground here. This time, the ground doesn’t glitch. Thank God for that.

“Dad?” You call out, pushing open the door. It was never locked when you were a kid. “Tommy? Techno?”

No response. Maybe they’re outside, or maybe they’re out looking for you? You’ll check the dog area for Techno first.

Trudging through the snow, you delight in making an impact and leaving footprints behind. You never got to see your footprints in the end. Funny how you miss the little things about life.

“Techno? It’s me, I’m ba…” you trail off, spotting a small weathered stone. That certainly hadn’t been there before. You take a few steps closer, staring down to read engraved words.

Your name stared back at you, paired with a date that was five years ago. The day you went missing.

They… they thought you were dead? Is this a grave?

Ṫḧëÿ’ṿë ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ äḷḷ äḅöüẗ ÿöü

The void’s voice startles you, but you don’t dwell on the fact it followed you.

“No they didn’t!” You shout, but your heart is beating too fast, sick rising in your throat. “No, someone else has to be here!”

Before you realize it, you’re running. Following the familiar path to the town, coming to stop when you see a person. Antfrost, you can recognize him even now, whistling as he carries a box inside.

Acting normal. Normal, as if you didn’t disappear. Normal, as if you hadn’t been gone for five years. Normal, as if your disappearance never made an impact.

Ṗööṛ ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ

“No…” You whisper, staggering back. “I— I don’t—“

Ḟöṛġöẗẗëṅ. Ḧöẅ ċöüḷḋ ẗḧëÿ? Ṫö ÿöü? Ṡö ṗëṛḟëċẗ, ṡö ṁïṅë?

How could they indeed. The void is right. You’ve been forgotten.

Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ḅëẗẗëṛ. Ṫëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ ä ḷëṡṡöṅ. Ÿöü äṛë ẅöṛẗḧÿ öḟ ṛëṁëṁḅṛäṅċë.

“How?” You whisper, arms curling around yourself.

Ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë.

“I don’t want revenge, void. I want—“

Ÿöü äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ї äṁ äṅġṛÿ. Ẅë äṛë äṅġṛÿ. Ṫäḳë ṛëṿëṅġë, ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ.

Even as you want to deny it, you know it’s true. You are angry. Pissed, in fact. How dare they forget you? How dare they act as if you were nothing, as if your personal hell didn’t matter?

Slowly, an idea forms, pieces falling into place.

There’s a story you used to like, gasping and laughing at the drama of it as Techno told it. Indulged you.

A king and his friend, Theseus. The part you loved hearing was the end of it: Theseus sought refuge with the king, and the king pushed him off a cliff.

You sought refuge with this town, and they stabbed you in the back. And if they want your forgiveness? Well. They’ll have to prove themselves worthy.

Ä ċäṡẗḷë. Ḅüïḷḋ ä ċäṡẗḷë.

“With puzzles.” You murmur, planning with the void. Embracing it. “And traps, and mobs. Twelve floors.”

Ẅë ẅïḷḷ ẗëäċḧ ẗḧëṁ.

You don’t remember building the castle. Hell, you aren’t even sure if you could build something like this. It’s tucked behind mountains, black stone and purple stained windows hiding it in the shadows. Spires reach toward the sky as if they’re claws, threatening to rip a hole in the world.

The void, at some point, must’ve taken over for you and built it. That’s the only logical explanation you could come up with, bolstered with the evidence of the void’s impact on the landscape around the castle.

It’s obvious at first glance that something is wrong with the greenery. The flowers and trees have all withered and died, shriveling up into dull-looking husks. The snow has melted to reveal blackened grass underneath, and the mountain is infected with veins of purple. It looks evil. You look evil.

The void loves it. You aren’t so sure, but at least you look cool. And you felt cool setting up all the traps and challenges.

There’s mazes and mobs and hunts and puzzles, all of which you set up. Your favorite is the one where they’ll have to search the room to find three golden apples and deliver them into a chest. It was some tricky redstone, but once they do that the door will open. That’s the eleventh floor, the final one before you’ll finally see them.

All that’s left is to send out the notes, each of which you hand write in (quite honestly) horrible handwriting. The void helped with the threats and the purple paper, leaving you with a simple message.

“𝓑𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝟧 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝓛𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝓜𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓉; 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇.”

It’s stupid, and possibly cringey, but you’ve never written a ransom note before, so you think you’ll get a pass. You just need to send them and wait for the plan to start working.

It takes them less time than you thought it would to get through all of your rooms. It’s as if you blinked and they were all there, staring at you as you sit on your unnecessarily fancy chair.

“Are you real?” Tommy blurts out. He’s the same golden-hair kid you remember running around with, just grown.

Are you real? He had asked. Surely you don’t look that bad. The scales on your arms grew, certainly, and purple particles floated all around you, but it was still you.

“Kid?” Dad asks, stood next to Tommy. “Are you— what are you doing?”

“Where have you been?” Puffy adds on, wide-eyed. “Have you been safe?”

Your gaze sweeps over them all, anger clawing its way up your throat. Puffy, Niki, Antfrost, Bad, Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, Dad, Techno, Sam. All of them are here, staring at you with mixed expressions of horror and sorrow and surprise.

It’s fake. It must be fake. They gave up on you! They left you for dead, left you to rot alone!

“You’re all liars!” You shout. “Acting sad, as if you didn’t stop looking for me!”

“We didn’t—“ Tubbo starts, but you cut him off.

“Stop!” You hold your hand up to signal him to stop talking, but purple particles swirl in front of your palm and materialize into something solid. Then again, and again.

It’s not until there’s ten purple figures that you realize what you’ve done. You created mobs, living creatures made of the void. One of them groans like a zombie, then rushes at Sam. He reacts immediately, swiping his sword at its head. The purple head rolls, disintegrating. Then, it reforms on the void-zombie’s shoulders.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody’s shouting and swinging their weapons around, trying to figure out how to get rid of the void-zombies. All you can do is watch, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. Those things came from you, from your anger.

“You’ve got to get rid of these things!” Techno shouts, looking over at you while swinging his axe.

And you? You don’t do a damn thing.

“We looked for you, all of us! We’d never give up!”

“Shit, a little help!”

“Oh, God…”

Everyone’s voices mix into one big mess of noise, only made worse by the noises of the weapons and the void-zombies.

“We named the town after you!”

Your head whips toward Tommy’s voice, eyes focusing on him. He ducks under a void-zombie’s hand, staring back at you.

“And Ranboo has this brilliant idea— we made a statue of you! Well, Sam made it, but it’s pretty sick looking.” He adds.

“…You’re lying.” You accuse, but you already know he’s not.

“Why would we lie about something like that?” Niki asks, gentle despite the violence filling the room.

As if on command, all the void-zombies vanish.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God. What have you done? What have you become?

Ḷïẗẗḷë ḋṛäġöṅ…

We’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up. The horror is cold, spearing through your body, no part of you untouched.

Your glassy eyes catch on the chandelier, a thousand crystal images of you reflecting like a mirror. And all you can see is the void. The glitchy darkness surrounding you, the horrible thing you’ve become.

Maybe you’re a coward for it, but you run, crown falling from your head. The second your hand brushes against the wall, it vanishes, glitching out of existence as you hurtle through it and into the dark night.

“Kid!”

You don’t look back.

The silence you leave behind is eerie.

Five years. Five years since they last saw you. And now here they were.

Tommy is the first to step forward, to grab the crown you had dropped. He always liked shiny things, but more importantly, he liked keeping your things after you went missing.

He looks down, meeting his own eyes in the gems.

This crown doesn’t feel like you at all.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #philza x reader #philza #technoblade #technoblade x reader #ranboo #ranboolive #ranboo x reader #tubbo #tubbo x reader

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 year

Text

CHOPPERS.

Part 1 of The Devil You Know

Biker!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Today felt like the first calm shift you had in weeks… or at least that‘s what you thought until two unexpected guests stepped into Choppers.

WORDS: 3.3 K

WARNINGS: There's just too much testosterone in this chapter, mentions of injuries (cut lip), a bit of swearing, otherwise it‘s harmless

NOTES: Aemond seems a bit soft in this, BUT I can tell that’s not how he’s going to be all the time. Credit for the photo of Tommy with tatts goes to @/eatheruniverse. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics.

King’s Landing was the sort of place where you either had two houses or two jobs, and since you were currently wiping down the counter of Choppers and had no fancy–and ridiculously expensive–motorcycle parked in front of the bar, you clearly belonged to the latter.

The venue was busier than usual with several members of the Savage Dragons filling the tables and bar, and the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and leather hung thick in the air. Old school rock boomed off the jukebox in the corner, and the atmosphere was relaxed, making the shift one of the easiest you had in weeks.

At least that was what you thought until raised voices drew attention to one of the tables closest to the door, a familiar mop of brown hair involved and two other men you hadn’t seen that often before. In times like these, you were grateful to work with Cregan, because wherever that hunk of a man went, every turmoil was smothered within seconds.

When you turned around to meet his eyes from where he was drawing some beers, you merely had to wrinkle your nose with a ‘pretty please?’ leaving your lips to coax him from behind the counter.

“I’ll take care of it,” he sighed, and nodded towards the tap, “Need two more for Alyn and Addam. Could you, please?” Making a swift change, you took his place behind the tap, while he dried off his hands and threw the rag over his broad shoulder, walking around the counter.

“Cole! Lannister!” his deep voice rang out, perfectly audible despite the music still playing, “You fuckin’ know not to start shit on my shift. Get your asses outta here before they meet my foot.“ There had been a few encounters with them before, and each one had been won by Cregan.

Thanks to you working at the bar for quite some time now, your eyes managed to flicker between the scene unfolding in front of you and the tap, making sure not one drop of beer got spilled and the foam head was evenly and neither too thick nor too thin.

Even before Cregan reached their table, the men held their hands up in defeat, getting up to head towards the door.

“What are they even doing here? The posh lifestyle getting too boring?” you looked from Cregan and Jace to your friend Baela. She leaned over the counter, fishing for one of the beers you’d poured. You swatted her hand away, pulling the pints towards the edge of the counter, before crouching down to pull the first aid kit from the cabinet below.

“Well, technically, your father hasn’t banned them from entering the bar,” you noted, raising one eyebrow at her as you slid the kit across the counter toward Cregan so he could tend to the cut on Jace’s lip.

She slumped into the bar stool while you hurried around the counter with both beers in hand, sighing in an exaggerated manner, “Fuck, I know, I’ve been telling him for months now, but he’s not doing it.”

You meandered through the crowd of people and placed the pints in front of the silver haired brothers, walking back to get behind the counter again. “I don’t know what has happened between you, and I really don’t care, but just because your cousins left the gang and started their own doesn’t mean they should be banned,” you said, grabbing a rag to wipe off the tap. “They’re still your family, and the few members of Dracarys that come here have been nothing short of calm–unless they’re provoked by a certain someone.” You shamelessly glanced over to Jace, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t wanna have them here, and if that’s the only way to make it clear to them, I’ll keep going until they understand. They’re nothing but a bunch of elitist assholes,” the president retorted.

You’re just as elitist as they are, was the comeback you wanted to say but stifled by biting your tongue, because they were the ones kind of taking you in and accepting you in their gang, even though you didn’t own a motorcycle and weren’t a member of their tribe. You enjoyed the company of the Savage Dragons, and you’d been around Baela even before your first shift at Choppers, but they had no idea what it meant to grow up in King’s Landing’s lower class and to work for your money.

You handed Baela a freshly poured beer, throwing the rag over your shoulder in the same manner Cregan did before, who was already nursing a bourbon.

“Didn’t you come by motorcycle?”

“One does no harm,” he said, “besides, there's at least six hours left ‘till closing time.”

“How did I end up here?” you asked rhetorically, and pinched the bridge of your nose. Because you were looking for a new job, and Baela’s father was looking for a waitress.

Cregan smiled in a teasing manner, “Don’t you enjoy being a Dragon, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head to the side as you met his brown eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Just because I work here with you,” you nod in his direction, referring to the cut-off that hung on the knob of the cabinet with various patches of flames and dragons sewn onto it, and their gang’s logo patched on the back, “and occasionally ride shotgun doesn’t mean I’m part of your gang. I don’t own a bike and never will.”

The bull of a man just raised his hands as if he didn’t mean to offend you, though the cheeky smirk he held on his lips made it clear he didn’t hold it against you. “Just teasin’, sugar, we know you aren’t.” Sometimes the nicknames he gave you came so random that they really made you blush, and totally not because you had a little crush on him. Cregan was barely three years older than you, but he somehow had upped his flirting game to the point he just radiated daddy vibes. And you didn’t want to know what he was up to when he wasn’t working or taking his Triumph out for a ride with the Dragons.

Hearing his name being called in the distance, you both looked up to meet the violet eyes of Alyn, who was holding up two fingers while pointing towards the two empty pints standing in front of them. Sometimes you wondered if they just chugged it the second the drinks were served.

“After you,” you mirrored his cheeky grin and extended your arm, pointing towards the tap.

The brunette scoffed and shook his head, but not in a derogatory manner. He trailed past you, while you seized the opportunity to clean some of the glasses that piled up on the countertop.

Jace went back to where some of his men were playing pool, the cut on his lip obvious enough you could still spot it even in the dim light of the bar.

“So, the flame between you two dying out already?” you asked Baela with a softer voice, not wanting to catch Cregan’s attention, lifting your head to look at her. When there didn’t come an answer right away, you pressed on. “Just surprised Creg had to patch him up, that’s all.”

She took a swig of her beer, putting the pint down and slightly bending over the counter to come closer toward you. “He’s just been acting so weird lately. I get that it’s not easy when your parents get a divorce, but everyone saw it coming… even Luke handles it better than he does.”

“Speaking of, where’s he anyways? Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s in Driftmark with Rhae. Gramps needed some help in his workshop, and since dad’s busy with the new bar, Luke offered to drive her and stay there. They should be back by Saturday.”

You had to give it to Rhaena. Even though she didn’t own a motorcycle herself, she was mechanically inclined. Growing up with a father like Daemon, who was obsessed with motorcycles himself, she received all the support she needed on her way, and he taught her most of the things he knew, despite taking a step back from motorcycles and all things involved after their mother Laena got into an accident that nearly killed her.

At this point you just waited for the day she’d storm into Choppers and proclaim that Corlys Velaryon had bequeathed the workshop to her. You hoped for it to happen.

“Does he,” you nodded toward the Savage Dragon’s president, “want to stay with Rhaenrya or does he leave with Harwin?” You stored the glasses away and threw the rag aside, leaning back against the cabinet with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He plans on buying an apartment in the city,” you raised your eyebrows at that, considering renting an apartment in King’s Landing already was expensive as hell, so, buying one was a whole other level. “And I can totally see Luke moving in with him, though.”

You nodded, and scoffed at the thought of the brothers sharing an apartment, considering Jace more often than not complained about his younger brother getting on his nerves. Perhaps moving out was his chance to get a taste of freedom and independence.

Your response was seized short when the loud chatter of the customers drowned into silence. Having got used to the background noise a long time ago, you picked up on it lacking the second it ceased.

There was a slight commotion at the front door, caused by the crowd of people parting to make place for whoever entered. It was a weird reaction, to say the least. The customers stepped aside when two silver haired men, clad in black jeans and matching leather jackets with a few patches covering the fronts and arms, stepped through the door and headed towards the counter.

You didn’t have to squint your eyes to make out that it was Aegon Targaryen, self proclaimed prince of the city and president of Dracarys. And though everyone kept a respectful distance from them, you knew it wasn’t because of him, but rather because of the much taller man that trailed behind him like his personal bodyguard, his serious expression seeming both domineering and threatening. You hadn’t heard much about Aemond Targaryen before, a total enigma to you, and while the brothers seemed like the epitome of the golden retriever and the black cat personalities, you knew better than to trust the first impression.

Aegon Targaryen was nothing short of ruthless and deceitful, the goofy and gullible demeanor only a mask he put on to fool people until he decided to show his true colors. The only thing that matched was his loyalty and protectiveness, always going the extra mile for his brothers and sister.

The only things you knew about Aemond were that he supposedly wore a sapphire in place of his left eye after he’d lost it in an accident, though the how and when was unknown and his left eye concealed with a black eyepatch, and that he was in no way inferior to Aegon, just as ruthless and if not even hot-tempered and fierce.

At least that’s what you had heard. You still had to experience their outbursts first hand yourself, most of the stories you‘d heard told by members of the Savage Dragons, or rather Jace, Luke and Creg. And sometimes even Baela told one or two stories, however, they never were as derogatory as the ones the others told.

“Now this is a rare visit,” your friend mumbled, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow as she noticed your attention was solely fixed on them. Not even Jace’s ‘Look who has decided to bless us with their presence’ was able to reclaim your focus.

With every step the pair took toward you, you felt the air being knocked straight out of your lungs, your throat becoming incredibly tight, whereas another sensation built in the pit of your stomach–perhaps even at the apex between your legs. Only when you felt Baela’s hand under your chin, as if she meant to close your mouth–even though it wasn't opened–you figured you had been staring at them a bit too long and a bit too obvious, but something about his striking eye, chiseled jaw and intimidating aura felt alluring to you.

“Cousin,” Aegon’s gravelly voice rang out, acknowledging Baela.

“Aeg,” she said before looking over to the taller Targaryen, nodding. “Aemond.”

The air between them was thick with tension, and it almost made you cringe to the point you had to interfere. “What can I get you?” your voice was a tad more high pitched than usual, and from the corner of your eye you were able to spot the way your friend’s eyebrow raised in a manner that made clear she was judging you.

You tried your best to focus on Aegon, his blonde stubble, the loose curls and lavender eyes dreamy enough to get lost in but not at all enticing enough to outshine his younger brother.

For a split second, you glanced over to Aemond, looming over his brother and Baela, and you were certain you’d caught the hint of a blush covering his pale skin, running down his cheeks and getting lost under his neck tattoos.

“Daemon’s here, sweets?” he drawled, the pet name only topped by the flirty wink he shot you. Goosebumps prickled on your skin, though it had a completely different meaning and got an entirely different reaction from you than it did whenever Cregan called you something similar.

Speaking of, he had abandoned his place at Addam’s table–that man couldn’t do anything else than drinking and chatting while at work, and occasionally threw someone out of the bar–and trailed around the counter to stand behind you, towering over your small frame just like Aemond did with Aegon. “No,” he said coldly. Very unusual for him, you thought.

Instead of looking at the man behind you, Aegon kept his eyes neatly trained on you, a smile on his lips that seemed eerily faked, “Then we’ll have two of his special. Neat.” Daemon’s special, you raised your brows, that meant you had to open one of the ridiculously expensive bottles of Elijah Craig’s 18 year single barrel that were stored in the back just for this occasion.

“I’ll bring it to you, guys,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Cregan, whose jaw was set to the point you feared for his teeth. Both men nodded and left to occupy one of the tables in the back–the one where two of their men had been expelled from before, to be precise.

“Leave it to me,” you warned, putting a hand on the expanse of his broad chest to make it clear it wasn’t even up to debate. “They haven’t done anything at all and you guys can’t think straight right now.”

While you fetched two tumblers and retrieved the bottle from the back, Baela had left her spot in front of the counter, walking over to the pool table to approach Jace. You supposed it had something to do with the way he held his hands balled to fists at his sides and his eyes all but burning through his uncle’s bodies. If looks could kill, Aegon and Aemond certainly would have perished straight away.

Perhaps she would finally manage to keep his rage at bay and stop him from doing anything stupid. Yet again.

Grabbing a tray, you served the drinks to them before cleaning their table from the remnants of their clan’s escapades, several empty pints and tumblers stacked upon it. It was difficult to keep your cool with both their eyes watching your every move, though the younger one seemed to not be able to tear his eye off your body instead, watching the way your black attire clung to your curves, the hem of your skirt high enough to expose most of your thighs and accentuate your legs.

“Need a hand?” It was Aemond speaking, catching you by surprise as you’d judged him to be more quiet-natured. His voice was just as gravelly as his brother’s, but at the same time smoother, if that even made sense. It crawled under your skin, but this time it was more pleasant.

You flashed him a sheepish smile, and weren’t able to meet his eye for long. “It’s alright,” you said, “I’ve carried a lot more than that.” The nod he returned made him appear just as sheepish as you were, and you were certain that if you’d stay just a minute longer, you wouldn’t be able to leave their table at all.

You were completely oblivious that Aegon’s and Aemond’s eyes weren’t the only ones watching even the slightest move you made, though they all captured a different motive behind them. If it was up to Jace, you would’ve perished with his uncle’s in that moment, and if it was up to the Targaryen brother’s, they would’ve kept you at their table just a bit longer–one wanting your company out of self-interest, while the other one just enjoyed to mess with the other side of the family.

You balanced the tray back to the bar, placing it on the countertop and allowing Cregan to clean the glasses this time around.

He looked utterly ridiculous. A hunk of a man, hunching his shoulders while cleaning a bunch of glasses and staring at the men they loathed with all their hearts for reasons you didn’t even know in the first place.

“You’re still aware I’m leaving early tonight, right?” you asked him, trying to get his mind off the matter at hand. “Or do you want me to stay to make sure everything goes well? Don’t want y’all to rip each other to shreds. It’d suck to clean that up tomorrow.” The chuckle you released was meant to ease the tension, though Cregan wasn’t really having any of it.

“No, it’s fine,” he eventually replied. “Take your time off, you’ve earned it. Need someone to bring you home?”

He half turned to look at you, the slight tilt of his head indicating he’d help you out and probably drive you home himself. “Came by car today,” you retrieved your keys from the back pocket of your denim skirt, dangling them in front of his face. “So, no worries.”

“Alright, have a nice evening,” he hummed, and moved to tend to another customer.

You walked around the corner but stopped once you passed it, turning to face him one last time. “And Cregan?” you asked, catching his attention, “Behave.”

“You know us, Y/N.”

“Exactly.”

Raising his hands in defeat, silently indicating that he’d try to keep his hands clean for the remainder of the night, you moved to approach Baela at the pool table. “I’m done for the night, Bae. See you tomorrow?”

She embraced you in a tight hug. “I’ll hit you up.“

“You’ll hear from me once I’ve cleaned up after you guys… again,” you teased and waved goodbye to everyone standing around the table.

As you passed the table with two of the most attractive men you’ve ever spotted before, a shiver ran up your spine, feeling like liquid fire. You tried to keep your eyes on the ground, not able to get lost in the piercing gaze of Aemond once again, but were forced to take notice of them when Aegon’s voice rang out. “Leaving already, sweets?” You nearly missed the way Aemond elbowed his brother at the mention of the irritating pet name.

Unable to speak, you merely bobbed your head once, heading toward the door. Aemond’s ‘What a shame’ could hardly be heard by anyone other than you and his brother, and it forced a blush onto your cheeks before you hurried out of the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t the last you’ve heard and seen of the seemingly notorious devil.

These are my face-claims for the other (kinda important) characters appearing in this series. Cregan, Baela, Jace and Aegon.

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