#“if its a boy well name him Tommy” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katiexpunk · 3 months

Note

You may have done this before, I haven’t read all your work, but How about Joel and Tommy (or just Joel 😜) take you on a horse ride, out into the woods and end up having a fun time on the grass

Tell Me a Secret | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Non, thank you so much for this request. I hope you enjoy this! I love getting requests from ya'll, makes my heart so happy.xx As a side note, this will be my final fic as an unmarried woman. My wedding is in less than a month (!!!!)

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Word Count: 7.8K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: References to canon typical violence. It's hinted that readers father was abusive. Death. Blood. Reader is an artist. Ellie/Sarah/Tommy/Maria and others are referenced in this. Ellie and Reader are friends. Alcohol. Angst. Horses. Pining. Oral (female receiving). Praise kink. Pet names. Emotional sex. Very unprotected sex. They fuck outside, but nobody is around. Joel makes a questionable choice in this one that invades readers privacy. Breeding kink if you squint. Creampie. Fingering. Lots of references to art and poetry. A surprise ending that might mean more later on... Immersibility: Reader has no physical descriptions apart from having hair, breasts, and a uterus. It is noted at one point that there is charcoal visible on her hands. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). Creative Credits: the middle image of the graphic is a drawing by @kamal.classic.art on Instagram. The poem referenced at the end is by Olivia Ann Rose. The opening section is modified poetry from Brianna Pastor. Inspiration was pulled from the lake scene in The Princess Diaries 2. And shout out to our boi Leonardo da Vinci, cuz I reference the Mona Lisa.

It’s really easy to be angry.

Over the years, anger became so familiar to you that you had a difficult time differentiating between that and your sadness. Both felt equally daunting.

It’s difficult to work on your sadness with its roots are boiling with anger. Both don’t always look the way one might expect them to. Sometimes, the face of anger is neutral, a quiet rumble you don’t notice because it’s buried so deep.

That steady stream of anger and hurt seemed to trickle into every single thing that you did. You had become cold and numb to the reality of the world around you; an empty shell of who you once were.

And then you met Joel Miller.

He came along and started to nurture what you buried so deep that you eventually forgot what was even planted there.

And you did the same for him.

Like the sun, you elevated the ordinary with a simple touch. Your rays warmed the cockles of his heart he thought had gone so cold they could never be revived.

This is that story.

++++

It doesn’t take Ellie long to figure it out.

“Hey, give me that back!” You snap at her, attempting to pull the tattered notebook from her hands, but it’s pointless. Her tiny fingers must have been sumo wrestlers in another life, you wager. Putting space between both of your bodies by quickly walking backward, she locks eyes with you until her back is up against the makeshift bookshelf.

This is your favorite place in all of the Jackson – the makeshift library Maria started a few months back. It’s not much, but with your help, the collection is starting to grow. You’re quick to stuff books into your pack on raids and have summoned a handful of the townspeople to aid in this effort. It’s always quiet and peaceful; a stark contrast to the world outside the walls that keep you safe here.

Well, that was until a rather foul-mouthed 14-year-old named Ellie arrived in town. Despite your age difference, you two have become fast friends, even if she does annoy the shit out of you sometimes.

“Ellie, I am so serious right now, please give my notebook back,” you plead with her from across the room, your hands on your hips, a serious undertone to your voice.

“Why? Whatcha trying to hide so bad? Drawing a bunch of dicks or something?” she jokes.

When you don’t respond, her eyes widen in surprise. “Holy shit, dude. You are drawing a bunch of dicks, aren’t you!” she teases, resting the pads of her fingers in between the pages of the notebook, slightly parting the paper. All she’d have to do is move them a little and the pages would fall open, revealing your secrets faster than a Catholic at confession.

She starts to crack the spine of the notebook, but your voice calling out once more causes her pause. “No, wait, Ellie, stop,” you say a tad softer this time. “I’m not drawing a bunch of dicks, and even if I were, that’s not something you should be looking at – it’s…personal,” you respond, hoping the sincerity and softness you’re attempting to frost over the obvious bite of anger behind your voice will encourage her to listen.

She stares back at you, scanning your face up and down for a hint of the truth, thinking for a few moments.

“Fine,” she says. Your shoulders fall from your ears and the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding escapes from your lungs. She walks back over to you and extends her arm out, the notebook in hand, preparing to hand it over to you as if she’s some sort of General accepting a truce deal.

As you reach out to grab it, she lets it slip from her hands a few seconds too early. A nearly silent oops escapes her lips. The notebook falls to the floor with an audible thud, dropping as fast as a dead body, its pages falling open on both sides, like blood spilling on the floor.

Before you register what’s even happening, Ellie already has her knees on the floor, hovering over the open pages, a look of astonishment and delight on her face.

“Whoa – is that,” she asks, but before she can finish her sentence, you’re quickly snatching it up, snapping it closed with an audible thud. You both rise, and she’s looking at you, a smug smile of knowing on her face. Her smile grows like she’s just found some sort of secret treasure. “That was me, wasn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question, she already knows the answer.

You consider lying, but fuck it, you’re in too deep at this point. Plus, she may be only 14, but she’s smart as a whip, and you know she’d be able to call your bullshit from a mile away. Besides, she already saw the damn thing.

“Yes, okay, Ellie. Fine,” you concede. “It’s you. I – I like to draw,” you admit sheepishly like you’re afraid of what might come if you say it out loud.

It’s not that you’re not proud of your drawings, you are. The only thing you can attribute to your unwillingness to share your hobby with the world is akin to a trauma response.

Memories of your father ripping up your first notebook of drawings, the one he found under your pillow when you were a teenager, flash through your mind. Goosebumps litter your body when you swear you can still hear his raspy voice, harsh from the burn of whiskey, telling you that drawing won’t pay the bills and to knock that shit off or he’ll beat it out of you. He wasn’t particularly a man of his word, but somehow, he managed to keep that one. You’re not sure when the anger started to creep in, but you think it might have been then. Watching your hard work darken and crumble in the fire almost hurt worse than the sear his belt left behind.

“You were reading your comic over there the other day,” you admit, nodding your head toward the little nook by the window. “The light was just right, and well…I don’t know, I just got inspired and figured I’d give drawing you a shot,” you admit, voice soft and shy.

“Well you’re pretty fucking good at it,” Ellie admits.

You shove it down, the spark of happiness her words ignite in you, and it works. For now.

“Yeah, whatever,” you respond, clutching your not-so-secret secret closer to your chest. You aren’t good at taking compliments; especially now, after everything that’s happened.

“Can I have it?” Ellie asks. She rolls her eyes for a second, before eventually adding a please to the end of her request. You remember her telling you a few weeks back that Joel has been working with her on manners. You’d only met him once, but as far as you could tell, he was the southern gentleman, wounded dog, not to be fucked with, but still the impossibly polite type of man. The type of man that would punch another guy in the bar for questioning a lady’s honor, or stab him in the kneecap for looking at his girl the wrong way.

You consider her request for a moment, before eventually deciding that since it is her likeness, she should be the one to have it. You crack open the book, being careful to hide the other pages from her view before the familiar sound of paper ripping fills the room. You’re careful to tear it in a straight line, close to the spine, so as not to ruin the drawing.

With her portrait in hand, you bargain, “You can have this under one condition. You can’t tell anyone about this.” Ellie gives a subtle nod as if to agree. You don’t notice her middle and index fingers crossed tightly behind her back when you hand it over.

“So you’re sure you don’t have anything super naughty in there?” Ellie teases.

“Alright kid, no more dick jokes or Joel is gonna choke me,” you chide, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. Wouldn’t that be quite the piece of jewelry; a Joel Miller hand necklace. The truth is that while you don’t have anything super naughty, you do have more than one drawing of her guardian hiding in your pages. You’re not sure of much anymore, but there is one thing you do know for certain – those drawings are something she can never, ever, see. Those drawings are something nobody can ever see.

Ellie was quick to discover your secret.

Good thing it was just one of them.

You drape your arm over her shoulder and walk out of the library together.

++++

It all happens so quickly from that moment on.

It’s only spring, yet the Jackson grapevine is in full bloom, carrying the fruits of your talent to pretty much the whole town. You can’t say you’re surprised. What did you expect from a 14-year-old with minimal entertainment options?

It starts with Ellie letting it slip to Maria while they’re washing the dishes from family dinner with her, Tommy, and Joel.

Maria lets it slip to Tommy.

Tommy lets it slip to Samantha, the town’s soapmaker.

Samantha lets it slip to Joey, the butcher.

Joey lets it slip to – well – pretty much everyone else. You wouldn’t have guessed the town's butcher would be such a gossip, but dead cattle don’t make great conversationalists. Before you know it, you’re accepting some sort of art deal over porridge in the dining hall like it’s a shady drug deal.

“Come on, think of how happy it will make people,” Maria pleads with you. “You only have to do as many as you want,” she adds, looking at you with kind eyes, the ones that are nearly impossible to say no to.

You stare back at her in silence, attempting to piece together a response in your mind, but your words may as well be a 1,000-piece single-color puzzle at this point.

“So many of us don’t have those memories anymore. Think of how much it will mean to people to be able to put a drawing of their family up on their walls once more, you know?” she says, laying it on thick. Like how it used to be is what she leaves out.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” you respond, dropping your spoon on the wooden table next to your half-eaten bowl of breakfast. You feign annoyance, but deep down, you’re excited about the opportunity. Scared shitless, but excited.

“Yeah? Great. Oh just wait until I tell Tommy, he’s going to be ecstatic,” she says. “Now finish up, can’t have any of that food going to waste,” she quips, before swinging her leg over the bench and adjusting the brim of the cowboy hat on her head as she walks away, a smug look on her face.

++++

In the following days and weeks, you find yourself immersed in the lives of the residents of Jackson. Setting up your makeshift easel from scrap wood you collected on patrol in living rooms, on front porches, and amidst picturesque landscapes.

The people, once reserved, slowly begin to open up to you as they share stories and anecdotes of their lives before. It’s sweet, you think – how chatty people get when they have nothing to do but sit there while you try your best to capture their likeness.

Some conversations are easier than others. Most of the time you just nod your head and let out occasional nods or grunts of agreement, too immersed in your work to listen to what they’re saying, but sometimes you find yourself so engrossed in their stories that the drawings take hours to complete.

As much as you learn about them, you rarely open up about yourself. Sometimes they ask, sometimes they don’t. Regardless, you feel like the woman you were before no longer exists, she was left to decay with the rest of your family back in Austin. You know she’s in there, buried deep inside, hiding behind a door of anger and tears. Sometimes she cries out, but you buried the key to that lock years ago. No getting out now.

As the portraits accumulate, so does a sense of connection and unity. You’re no longer an unknown. A threat against resources. When you first arrived in town, you did your best to make yourself useful and show people that you weren’t just dead weight. And it worked, or you think it worked anyway, but the past few weeks have caused a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Before the apocalypse, you never really saw a place for your artwork or your talent. But now, you can see how it’s becoming a bridge, linking generations and weaving a tapestry of shared histories. Giving people something to cling to, something to hold on to, something to cherish once more.

Of all of the portraits you’ve done so far, your favorite is the one you did of Tommy and Maria. She hasn’t said anything yet, but from the way she placed her hand on her belly, and the way Tommy looked at her, it was pretty easy to guess. You did your best to capture their likeness, knowing it would likely be shown to generations to come. When you showed them the final result, Maria cried and hugged you tighter than you’ve been hugged in years. Their love was obvious – radiant and shiny. If anything were to make you believe in love again, wouldn’t seeing it right in front of your face be it? You try not to think about it too much when you realize it doesn’t.

You no longer have to walk the streets of Jackson, bouncing from place to place, alone. There’s always someone to talk to on your journey, or a comfortable silence paired with a subtle wave in the distance, or the occasional sound of a creaky screen door opening for you. Even before things went to shit, you never had this – community. With each finished portrait, you find yourself making a new friend.

You should be happy now. You know that. Your parasympathetic nervous system has had an opportunity to return to its normal state for the first time in years. You have the warmth of friends, and people like you. Like actually like you. They like what you’re doing, what you’re creating.

But you aren’t.

Because while you’re capturing the entire town's attention, you’re starting to realize you only care about attention when it’s from one person.

And unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to give two shits about you or what you create.

As you lay in bed that night, fidgeting with your necklace, you stare up at the ceiling and think about what started this whole infatuation in the first place. It was a drunken night, hardly anything. Not even a story worth repeating. You shouldn’t even be thinking about it. It was nothing.

But as you feel sleep calling you into its abyss, you remember the way his voice called your name that night and the heavy feeling of his gaze on your chest.

It was nothing.

Nothing.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming about him that night.

++++

Being the town's only artist comes with its price. While most of the time you don’t mind the endless stream of hellos and requests for additional portraits, you’re not up for much conversation this morning.

You slept like absolute shit last night and decided that if you weren’t going to sleep through the night, you might as well be productive with your time. When your eyes fluttered closed thinking of what, and who, to draw, the image of Joel sipping a cup of coffee in the dining hall, reading an old Western book from your library, played on the screen of your heavy lids. You decided to put your feelings on paper and start a new portrait. After you woke up from your dream, probably around 3 am you guessed, you stayed up late enough to see the sun rise over the horizon, before eventually deciding that it was too late, early for most, to go to bed now.

Seeking solitude and shielding yourself from prying eyes, you make yourself at home in the stables. You perch on a weathered stool in the corner of the barn, perfectly positioned in the corner so your back is supported, and begin sketching the handsome grump. As if he was right in front of you, his features are regal; sharp jawline decorated with a salt and pepper beard, one of the patches faintly shaped like a heart, dark brown eyes that resemble those of a deer, the crinkled lines around his eyes and forehead that serve as proof of age. Arguably your favorite feature is his nose. Prominent, aquiline, like a bow that perfectly ties all of his facial features together. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man.

Completely immersed in your world, you lose track of time. You could have been sketching for twenty minutes or three hours, who’s to say. Exhaustion envelopes you in an embrace and you doze off in a peaceful slumber.

When Joel enters the stable for his morning shift, he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye; perched up on a rickety old stool, head slumped over, resting on the wooden edge of the barn. Your arms are wrapped snuggly around your chest as if to keep yourself warm in the dewy morning air. As he approaches closer, treading carefully against the hay as if he were a cat trying to sneak up on its prey, he takes in the finer details of you peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware.

There’s charcoal on your hands, your lips are slightly parted and there’s a little glisten of drool pooling in the corner of your lips, and your hair slightly covers your face. Jesus, he thinks you’re gorgeous awake, but seeing you asleep – so vulnerable and tender – nearly causes his heart to skip a beat. He tries to ignore what it does to his cock. He knows you’re an artist, but with the way you look right now, hell, you might as well be the artwork, too.

He thinks he could stare at you for hours, but there’s something more pressing for him to look at first. He’s seen you carry your trusty notebook around, rarely ever setting it down, and certainly being very guarded when you have it cracked open around others – especially him. So when he sees it lying on the ground, he thinks…what could one look hurt? He doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. He’ll be satisfied once he knows what you’re hiding in there. Surely. One look, and he’ll wake you and that will be it.

After all, it’s just a peek.

He’s not quite sure what he expected, but this was most definitely not it. As if he were looking into a mirror, his reflection stares back at him from the dull matte of the pages. As he flips from one page to the next, he swears time stops altogether as he takes it in. Your secret.

As he scans the pages, something burns deep in the marrow of his bones, a fire and heat that exists only for you. Now that he knows your truth, he’s not sure he can stop what he does next. His large palm floats out to caress the underside of your jaw, and the pad of his thumb ghosts over the soft swell of your bottom lip. Before he lets himself get too carried away in his thoughts, he clears his throat.

“Mornin’,” a husky voice says, startling you. You all but launch into orbit and almost fall over like the stool, but the owner of the intruding voice grabs your elbow before your backside collides with the floor. You’re relieved to see that your saving grace is Joel, yet you’re burning with embarrassment at your clumsiness.

Joel clears his throat before speaking with his hand still grasping your elbow, “M’pologies, didn’t mean to startle ya, sweetheart.”

”Oh no, I was just…” you sputter out, still finding your bearings. He reluctantly removes you from his grip but not without letting his fingers trail across your skin as he lets go. The ghost of his touch is a noticeable one.

“Didn’t sleep well last night, I take it?” Joel asks, a softness to his voice.

“Afraid not,” you say, kicking your heel into the hay, trying your best to avoid his eyes so as not to spill all of your fucking guts. I was too busy thinking about you.

“You’re in luck, darlin’. I have just the thing to wake you up,” he says, “and ‘m not takin’ no for an answer,” he says with a wink.

“I’m sorry, am I speaking to Joel Miller? Have you been bitten? Are you feeling alright?” you joke, placing the back of your hand up to his forehead, a giant smile on your face.

“My reputation of being Jackson’s own Boo Radley precedes me, I see,” he jokes back.

You shoot him a look that says who the fuck is Boo Radley? Instead of giving you an explanation, he just chuckles like it’s an inside joke.

“Come on now, we’re goin’ for a ride,” he says with finality.

You try to ignore the heat that stirs low in your belly at the thought of riding with Joel Miller as he guides you deeper into the stables.

++++

The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the picturesque landscape of Jackson. Situated in front of Joel on the horse, you close your eyes and exhale all the air from your lungs. You hold your lack of breath for a moment, before feeling your lower belly rise, taking in the crisp air laced with the scent of wildflowers and fresh blades of grass in through your nostrils.

Joel is an easy-riding partner. He doesn’t say much, yet you feel secure in his presence with your back nestled up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped around you, his capable hands holding the reigns, guiding the horse through the scenic trail with ease. You rub your eyes for a moment before opening them to take in the breathtaking view of the snow-capped mountains far off in the distance, and the lush green meadows that surround you. You almost forgot beauty like this could exist.

Joel turns his head, following your gaze. A small smile tugs at the corners of his weathered lips as he agrees, "Looks like a good spot to take a break."

Guiding the horse toward the field, you both dismount and allow the horse to graze freely. Joel suddenly remembers he has a blanket tucked away in his saddlebag. He retrieves it and spreads it out in the clearing amidst the vibrant flowers.

Seated on the blanket, you unravel the satchel from over your shoulder and place it on the ground by your side while you simultaneously marvel at the beauty surrounding you. The sun plays hide-and-seek through the branches of nearby trees, creating dappled patterns on the ground. Joel settles beside you, gazing out at the open expanse.

As you bask in the splendor of the spring day, your attention fully absorbed by the vibrant beauty surrounding you, you inadvertently miss the subtle shift in Joel's focus. His gaze transitions from the scenic view to rest upon you. In a moment of silent admiration, he drinks in the essence of your being. His eyes trace the contours of your profile, lingering on the way the sunlight plays in your hair, transforming it into a golden halo that only seems to make his mouth water more.

He admires the view of you propped up on your elbows, eyes closed, heart center shining toward the sun, the swell of your breasts painted like a picture before him.

“Tell me your greatest desires,” he says.

As you open your eyes and turn to face him, as swift as the breeze you feel in your hair, you feel all of the air escape your lungs. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man. You’re momentarily lost in your own world as you admire the way he looks like this; relaxed, basking in the sun on a checkered blanket. His dark brown eyes are now a soft shade of amber, the silver streaks are a little more prominent in the sunlight, and the furrow of his brow has lessened.

“Alright. Tell me a secret” you respond, the corners of your lips threaten to turn up in a smile. You press up off your elbows and roll onto one on your side to face him.

“Isn’t that the same?” he asks, responding to your movement, mirroring it.

Now face-to-face, and chest-to-chest with him, inches only separating your bodies, you pause and let your eyes flint to his lips.

“Anyone can see your desires, no one knows what’s in your heart,” you say.

“Tell me something,” he says.

“I still dream of the taste of McDonald’s french fries,” you say, “and I’m not sure I know how to feel happiness anymore,” you say, as a matter a fact.

Your words reverb through his ears, and he stares at you in silence, unsure of how to respond.

“I used to be a contractor,” he admits, “and I had a daughter named Sarah.”

You look at him with soft, wide eyes. Pain is visible on your face, taking in what he’s yet to say. When you don’t respond, he adds, “She died in my arms on Outbreak day,” he admits, averting his gaze over your shoulder. His hands have somehow navigated to find a single blade of grass that he toys with in between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you pause in silence. Like your words could ever make up for his loss. Everyone had lost someone at this point, but the way he said it, you could tell it still felt fresh to him.

“It’s alright, Darlin’, next confession,” he says, obviously wanting to change the subject.

“Ellie,” you chuckle, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up at the mention of her name. “She’s such a pain in my ass, but she’s probably one of my best friends right now,” you say. Like it should be embarrassing, you, an adult woman, friends with a 14-year-old.

“Yeah. Little bugger has her way of working her way under your skin, doesn’t she?” he says, bringing his attention back to the panoramic scene laid out in front of you. You notice the smile that graces his face. “Your turn,” you say, this time paying all of your attention to his profile as he stares out to the horizon.

“I saw your drawings,” he admits, even though every fiber of his being is telling him not to. Your smile fades from your face and your heart sinks. You swear the sun must have navigated light years closer to Earth from the way you feel your skin heat, your blood hot enough to melt bone. You might as well turn to liquid there, melting into Mother Earth.

“Wh–what? What do you mean?” you ask, your voice mostly a tremble.

“In the barn, this morning… when you were asleep. Your notebook fell to the ground, and well – I saw them,” he decides to leave out the part where he intentionally decided to take a peek, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing the ethics of it.

You’re nearly one with the core of the Earth, her heat drawing all of the moisture from your mouth, your tongue dry, briefly incapable of forming a response, before your brain lands on the following.

“You mean – you saw – yo,” you start to say before he interrupts you.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, once again, a soft tone of honesty behind his voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is not happening. This is not happening.

Mortified, your whole body goes limp and the back of your head falls to the ground. You scrunch your eyes closed as tight as possible as if that might somehow wake you up from the nightmare that this scenario is. You bring your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and let yourself absorb all of the nasty and icky feelings of embarrassment that cross your brain.

When you open your eyes, you start “Joel, I can explai–” he cuts you off with the weight of his body pinning you in place, his lips pressed against yours in an intentional, yet gentle, kiss. It’s stationary at first like he’s just trying to get you to shut up, to save you from the danger that is your thoughts. With your eyes still wide open, you stare back and try to rationalize if this is really fucking happening right now.

You break the kiss for a moment and look up at him, “Joel, what are you doing?” you ask.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t overthought it like you’re about to,” he admits, staring back at you, “tell me you don’t want this,” he says, hoping you don’t. As if you could ever. When his question is met with no response, he takes that as a green light, and his soft lips once again find yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, your fingers interlacing behind his neck. He deepens the kiss with a moan and grinds his hips into yours, the heavy weight of his center pressing deep against yours ignites a firework display of nerves in your body. You can tell from the package that’s pressed up against you that he’s quite big. The strengthening of your touch is met with a soft mmm from his chest, as his heavy frame pins you tighter to the ground.

His lips stray from your lips, kissing over the razor edge of your jaw, finding their way to the nape of your neck. His hot breath and the weight of his strong and capable body make you feel weightless, despite the pressure he pushes on you.

He presses tender kisses to your pulse and trails them down to the hollow of your throat, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. His wide tongue licks a long, flat stripe up your windpipe, and his teeth come together in a little nip on your chin. Fuck. You let out a little cry of unexpected pleasure at the sensation. He pins both of your arms high up above your head, and his mouth continues its relentless pursuit on the bare skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

“Joel, please,” you beg, your vision foggy from the thrum of your blood pulsing through your veins at a rapid pace; your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“Gotta use your words for me, pretty girl, tell me what you want,” he responds, a low growl to his words.

He’s barely managed to touch you, yet, you choke out, “Need you,” you moan, “need you to touch me more, god, please,” you beg, your arms still pinned above your head. Satisfied, he releases his grip on your arms, and both of his palms find purchase on your center frame, just below your ribs. He kisses his way down from your throat, through the valley of your breasts, and over your belly, trailing the ghost of his lips to the soft plush below your navel.

He hooks his thumbs under the band of your pants, and deftly pulls them off, alongside your underwear. He continues kissing down the gash between your thighs and pauses once his mouth is centered on your glistening slit. His tongue darts out to lap at some of your slick and you swear all of your senses cross at the sensation of his tongue.

Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple through your shirt with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and you’re so close. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are fucking primal and filthy.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me have it, soak my face.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my God – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop," you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. As much as he would love to make you come multiple times under his tongue for hours, to savor your sweetness like it was the last strawberry on earth, he’s starving for it.

He makes quick work of undoing his belt and jeans, before sliding them off his legs to free himself. Gripping his heavy cock in his hand, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes just the tip in, wishing he were less riled up, less desperate for the warmth of your body, but he finds comfort in knowing you’re right at that line with him, begging to be filled.

“Need you,” you beg, your doe eyes looking up at him. He’s had many people beg for things from him – supplies, food, their life, but you, god, there’s something about you, split open and begging for his cock that he can’t say no to.

He smiles, and slides all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. He buries his cock deep inside you, to the hilt, so deep you can feel the tickle of the dark hairs that outline the base of it against your clit. Your pussy is so wet and tight, and holy – “fuck me, baby,” he moans, thrusting his hips out of you just barely before shoving them forward; the stretch of him is a delicious slow burn.

“Choking my cock so fucking good, baby. So good,” he moans before he begins to set a slow rhythm with his movements, letting you both adjust to the sensation. He praises your name and his breath catches on your collarbone, and he sucks a small mark there as he fucks in and out of you. When you whine for more, more of this, and more of him, this time he’s the one who’s lost for words. He might not know what to say, but his body responds in kindness, his cock thrusting in and out of you with a slow drag that drives you wild. All he can do is admire the beauty that you are under him, an angel on earth making a sweet, sweet mess, all for him. Just for him.

“Mmm, God, Joel – ‘m gonna, fuck, Joel, – right there –” you cry up to the sky above you, the clouds in the sky witness to your pleasure. He knows his cock is enough to get you there, but it’s not enough, not to him. Putting all of his body weight into his left arm, being sure not to crush you, he drags his right hand out from under his weight and it lands to cup your pussy; already so wet and so full. His fingers extend and find a home on your clit, and he begins rubbing tight circles on your aching bud in a way that makes you swear it must be nighttime from the stars you’re seeing.

“Here, baby?” his fingers continue their relentless pursuit of your clit, and he bucks his hips harder. He’s rewarded with the glorious sound of your moans reaching an octave that makes his cock twitch a little harder inside of you, “Jesus, sweetheart – gonna make me come like a teenager if you keep clenching like that, gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, an animalistic sound emanating from his chest.

“Joel, I’m gonna come –”

“I can tell, baby – clenchin’ so hard around me, want you to give me your all,” he demands, as he grabs your hair and tells himself not to come with you, too soon.

“No,” you choke out, staving off your orgasm. He stops his thrusts for a brief second, “What?” he asks, a bit bewildered. At this point you’re both a tangled mess of limbs, sweat beading on your foreheads, chests heaving. You intertwine your hands through his hair and gently pull at it as you look him deep in the eyes, “I want to come,” you promise, “I just want to ride you while I do it,” you admit.

You pulse around his cock at the confession, and with your truth still lingering on your lips, Joel pulls out and flips around so he's on his back. He steadies himself by the base and holds his cock straight up for you. You rise and position yourself over his center; you line yourself up against him while he cups your cheek with the other hand, “take your seat, pretty girl,” he says in a tone that’s just shy of a beg, and you do, feeling yourself slowly sink onto every inch of him. Your action elicits a throaty groan from him. Your eyes once again glaze over at the sensation of him so deep inside of you, so big, so deep. The stretch of him shoves out every other thought you can muster until all that’s left are thoughts of him in your brain.

In an attempt to get a better angle, he shifts his upper body up onto his forearms, as you continue to grind your hips into him. Both of your arms wrap around his neck, and you use the strength of them to pull him closer into your chest as you continue to slowly grind your cunt into him. You swear you can feel him in your lungs, and with the way your clit grinds against his skin, you’re nearly there, nearly gone.

A weird combination of emotions pools in your belly, part pleasure, part something else. You feel it creeping up your throat, clawing up the back of it like it’s manifesting its reality before it manages to surface. Heat pricks in your tear ducts, and before you know it, it’s such a big, bold feeling – a lion in a cage that won’t be tamed. Simultaneously, you feel a familiar tug at your navel, like a rubber band, stretched to its capacity, on the verge of a snap.

The orgasm that tears through you is so epic it causes your head to fall back, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head, your vision going static white. Your lower body shudders against his thrusts, and your inner muscles clamp hard around his cock as he fucks you through it. You convulse around him, doing your best to ride his thrusts and contribute as your whole body trembles. With tears streaming down your face, you press your lips against him. He wraps both of his arms tight around your chest, pinning you close to his heart, meanwhile spearing you with his cock. His thrusts stop for a moment, and he looks up at you, both hands coming to grip the sides of your face.

“Why are you crying baby,” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

“You’re just – so god damn beautiful, Joel,” you admit, and your sobs come a little harder. If this were pre-apocalypse, you might be mortified by the fact that you were sobbing for a man you hardly know, all while riding his cock, but it’s not. You rest your forehead against his and let the tears continue to fall, a handful of them dropping to his cheeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, and one of his hands leaves your face, trailing down to gently grab at your wrist in comfort. “No, baby. That’s you,” he says, slowly continuing to fuck into you with a slow grind.

“My perfect girl, I’ve got you, baby, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” he says, as he holds you and fucks you with such passion and intentionality. He fucks all of the love you haven’t let yourself feel in decades back into you. His cock fills every gap that has been left unfilled by every wrongdoing, every terrible, bad thing. He holds you like it isn’t the end of the world, but rather the beginning. He fucks you like his cock alone could fix everything, and at this moment, you’re confident it just might.

Still riding him, a soft “please,” leaves your lips. “Please use me,” you say, sinking your pussy down further onto him, so tight you can feel the tip of him pushing down on your cervix. “Want your come, Joel – need it, need it so much,” you beg, and oh god, he’s so fucked.

Joel was already on the crest of his release a long time ago, but here you are – utterly fucked out, riding him, and begging for his come. He’s a smart man, he knows he shouldn’t, but – you tug at his hair harder, and ride him for all you’re worth. “Fuck me, baby,” he moans, alongside a long slew of your name and other profanities, he only has so much resolve left, a resolve that’s slowly crumbling with each drag of your wet cunt up and down his cock.

You press your lips to his once again and he feels his balls tighten. The litany of pleas and the taste of your salty tears is what undoes him. Buried deep inside of you, he comes harder than he has in decades, spilling hot and deep inside of you. He fills you up with all he’s worth, painting your insides with white hot ropes of his seed. Normally you’re the artist, but right now, you’re his canvas, his fucking Mona Lisa.

Joel grunts and you collectively still your movements. He holds you close as he waits for the aftershocks and twitches to still, still plugging you, keeping all of his spend deep inside of you. He plants soft kisses all over your face and neck and caresses your hair. You stay like this for what could be hours, minutes, days. Time is a construct you have no concept of right now.

After a few minutes, he groans. Pulling out is always the hardest thing to do. “Gonna get off you now,” you say softly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, as you lift your hips and swing your leg over his body. Your pussy whines at the lack of something to grip around. A rush of his come dribbles out of you onto your inner thigh, but you don’t pay any attention to it. You roll over onto your back, and he does the same. As you both lay there, he grabs your hand and squeezes it tight. You’re not sure what time it is now, but by the color of the sky, you guess it’s late afternoon at this point.

“We should get back,” you say, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds make their creations.

“Yeah,” he admits, only looking at you. When you avert your gaze from the sky to look at him, you get deja vu as you take in the sight of Joel Miller, his tossed curls and chocolate eyes, and you swear you’ve seen this sight before. Maybe in a dream.

You commit the sight to memory, promising yourself to draw it later.

“Will you sit for a portrait with me?” you ask, voice soft, once again turning to face him, but this time it’s different.

“Only if you promise to go for a ride with me again,” he admits, and you smile, a heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“Deal,” you promise.

You both lay there for what could be hours or minutes, you’re not sure. But as the sun looks like it’s about to dip below the horizon, you both decide it’s time to head back. You both get dressed, and he helps you onto the horse. You both leave your perfect little meadow, knowing that it will be there for you to discover again and again.

On the ride back, you reflect on a poem you remember reading years ago.

There are two kinds of people in this world, those who see the ending, and those who see the beginning.

And after years of living in the ending, you’re ready to let the girl who you were before out of her prison. Joel undid the lock, all you had to do was let her see the light of day once more.

A new beginning.

You and Joel ride back in blissful silence.

Once on the outskirts of Jackson, Joel simply says, “Maybe we should invite Tommy next time.”

But that’s a different notebook.

END

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

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Refuge | chapter one.

prologue/previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

chapter one: tainted homecoming

wordcount: ~1k summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? what if just another mundanely late night at the office on the night of the outbreak separated them for a decade? warnings: fear, panic, passing out, reconciliations, estrangement, unwanted touching (not joel ofc), slightly unreliable narrator because she isn’t doing too well, angst boys i just binged good omens and i have thoughts ^tm. a/n: so, this was supposed to be out two days ago. life got in the way, unfortunately. kinda bummed me out because i was SO excited to share this but didn’t get to finish it on time and yada yada anyways. its here now, as usual please let me know what you think!!

When you gasped awake, you’d been moved from the harsh tile of your shop to the worn couch you kept on the first floor. Your jacket had been taken off, leaving you in your flimsy tank top. The room was uncharacteristically dark - a menacing omen looming over your head and shrouding your senses in a sense of danger as you came to a realisation.

There was someone in your kitchen. Multiple someones.

Eerily familiar voices were whispering rapidly from behind you; hissed exchanges you had to tilt your head to make out. Your panic from before had melted away, and in its stead was the cold emptiness you had taught yourself. Sheer focus honed by the desperation to stay alive. Who the fuck are these people?

“…didn’t tell me she was with ya, could atleast’ve told me she was alive…”

“…hardly gave a shit, don’t fuckin’ lie to me now…”

“…married?…”

“…didn’t know you were that much of a family man…”

Your fingers inched towards the pencil on the coffee table before you, body tensing up not to let the couch groan. Thoughts racing at a speed just beyond your grasp, brain struggling to catch up with what you were hearing, forcing you straight into a fight-or-flight response. Tucking the pencil into the palm of your hand tightly, you silently inched to the ground, crouching to shuffle to the edge of the sofa and crane your head to catch a glimpse of whoever the hell was sitting in your home.

Taking in the scene, you felt a laugh bubbling in your chest for the first time in years. Fate’s cruelty makes for masochistic amusement, does it not?

Before you sat a ghost. One that had haunted you day and night; one whose smile, eyes, hands, mouth, everything lingered in your memory like a scent from your childhood sticking in the back of your mind - never quite there, but never quite gone, either. Like a word you wouldn’t dare voice that sitting smug on the tip of your tongue.

When your eyes met his, everything else turned into static. An afterthought. Air was punched out of your lungs, your own heartbeat echoing in your ears, eyes blinking quickly to let the illusion dissipate. Except it didn’t. You could barely comprehend anything beyond him; barely realise that someone was behind you with his hands under your shoulders and his chest pressed against your back. The arm wrapping around your waist and the bullshit placating words whispered in your ear failed to register, too.

Your last moments before the blackout flashed through your mind - Fred’s curiosity as he told you about Jackson’s new residents. Tommy’s brother - Joel. If there was someone with him, it had to be Sarah. You hadn’t even let yourself think of his name all these years, let alone wonder whether or not he was alive. It was easier to convince yourself you didn’t have time to care. Easier to convince yourself that you had the strength to slide your eyes two inches to the left and see your daughter again, too. Suddenly, your clothes felt too tattered, your hair too tangled. The jut of your cheekbones and the tremble in your fingers just felt too inadequate to face them again.

Didn’t he once say my smile could light up a room?

Even my laugh has a bitter edge to it now.

You doubted you’d ever find it in you to crawl back to that version of yourself again. The one you had been when you had it all, when you had them with you. Radiant, carefree, so openly loving.

She had been your first kill. You had ripped her to shreds, just so no one else could. The ache of loneliness had then made a permanent home on your shoulders, and you had welcomed it if only for the protection it offered.

You blinked, and the moment shattered just as suddenly as it had come. Air rushed down your throat, making you choke as you clawed at the arms restraining you in a frenzy, but they refused to budge. A grating voice was in your ear, telling you to just calm down, baby, foul breath fanning across your cheek.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the scraping of a chair rung out and heavy, swift footsteps making their way and coming to a stop before you, a hulking figure looming over you and your captor.

How the hell was he still so…big?

What the fuck had he been eating?

This had to be a nightmare. This cannot be real. Tommy would have told me if he was alive, because Joel would have reached out. It’s just a dream, I need to wake up. Just a second shy of your plan to attempt pinching yourself - in what you considered a fool-proof test to see whether or not this was, in fact reality - you were wrenched out of the grasp of the man behind you, a larger, more firm pair of hands gripping your wrists and pulling you to put himself between you and the man who- no fucking way was that Fred. No goddamn way were his hands just all over you, his voice trying to calm you.

A wild panic began taking over your senses - the fight-or-flight instincts returning with full force. And as if even after all those years he could still feel it, Joel stood unyieldingly like a physical wall between you and the idiot. The idiot who was currently yelling about his “relationship” with you in your husband’s face.

A snort and high-pitched giggle sounded from behind you, the adrenaline forcing you to turn and locate the source immediately. When you finally looked into the eyes of your girl; the one you had desperately hoped to see again for the past decade and a half, your heart stopped. Cold dread dropped heavy like stones in your gut as pure fear burrowed into every single cell in your body.

This isn’t my fucking daughter.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopblues22, @breakfastatjoels dividers are my own!! series taglist: @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @planet-marz1, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin

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metalhoops · 8 months

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O how he loves you, darling boy. Oh how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. - Richard Siken

“There’s something outside my window.”

Eddie stood in the doorway, shoulders slump and slack from lack of sleep. Steve knew this routine. They’d fallen into it unexpectedly. After Eddie got out of the hospital, he’d come to stay with Steve until they could clear his name.

They’d hunkered down in his childhood home, the wooden walls of which Steve knew inspired wild imaginings. The shadows cast from the trees on the pool mixed with the silver moonlight and danced like the hair of a dead girl on the surface of the water. They were Steve’s demons. Eddie had brought his own to the Harrington’s house of horrors.

Steve knew paranoia. They were old partners. Paranoia crept into your bed in the dead of night, apologised for waking you, and kept you guessing with its cold feet and fitful tossing.

“Let me take a look,” Steve uttered, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. They dangled inches from the floor but in the blackness, they might as well be hanging over the edge of a precipice.

He strode barefoot into the hallway, feeling the chill of death in the early April air. In the daylight, the hallway was metres. In the dead of night, it was miles. Eddie trailed after him, acting as a wave in the wake of a boat. In the night, anything could look like the black water of Lover’s Lake. Eddie’s breath on the nape of his neck was all Steve needed to remind himself he wasn’t drowning.

He surveyed Eddie’s room, switching on the lights, opening the windows, and pacing in strange circles as though mapping sigils in the floor. He checked the closet and behind the door, before he crawled under the bed and felt Eddie slide in beside him. The two were crushed together in the small space, staring at mattress slates.

There was an intimacy in the confined darkness and a strange, childlike comfort in hiding away from some unknown yet likely imaginary force. Steve felt the rise and fall of Eddie’s shoulders, signalling the slowing of his breath. There was nothing in the darkness, not yet, not anymore.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Eddie asked.

It wasn’t the first time he or Steve had posed the question but usually, there was more beating around the bush. They’d both grown tired of formalities. Steve had known the second Eddie showed up at his door that they’d end the night in the same bed. He liked it, more than he cared to admit, more than he should. Like many things in his life, Steve tried not to overthink it.

“Yeah, long as we’re sleeping on the bed, not under it.”

“I don’t know, man. You seen the view? That dust bunny? A must-see. That dead spider—.”

“The what?” Steve cursed, shifting closer to Eddie. He felt something crawl over his exposed ankles and kicked out against the blackness.

“Cool it, karate kid, that was a joke,” Eddie cackled as Steve continued to mutter profanities under his breath as he crawled from under the bed.

Eddie followed Steve’s awkward little army crawl, tugging at the boy’s ankle and dragging him backwards so he could take the lead.

“Breaker, breaker this is Eddie the Banished calling for Top Gun King, do you read me,” Eddie breathed into the palm of his hand. Reenacting some unseen scenario Steve couldn’t quite follow.

For a moment the boy wondered what his life would’ve been like, in another world where he and Eddie had grown up together, instead of himself and Tommy. He wondered if there would’ve been more years of strange yet striking whimsey, that Tommy and by default Steve, had grown out of at a startlingly young age.

Eddie feigned a strange and static crackle as he clambered into bed and crawled beneath the covers. Steve followed, sliding in beside Eddie. The boy nudged his side as though waiting for something.

“Rodger?” Steve attempted lamely.

He wished he knew how Eddie mustered up the sudden lightness. He wanted to be a part of the world the boy escaped to in the dead of night when all Steve was left with were monsters and memories.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this,” He apologised seeing Eddie’s wild eyes trained on him.

Whenever they were together, Steve couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was asking something of him without saying it. Steve wanted nothing more than to give it to him. If only he could work out what it was.

“It’s not hard once you’ve done it a few times. You’ve just gotta learn the magic of ‘yes, and.’ Let your hair down a little bit, boy wonder.”

“I hate to break it to you, but my hair is as down as it gets... Since, you know...” Steve gestured vaguely at himself.

Eddie’s eyes lingered on the hollow of his collarbones and the hint of chest hair, snaking like vines beneath his low-cut shirt. Steve noticed. He was good at noticing things. In the same way he knew Vicki liked women, he knew Eddie liked men. He was startlingly good at noticing that kind of thing.

“Don’t wear Farrah Fawcett hairspray to bed? Colour me surprised,” Eddie spoke reaching out as though to touch Steve’s hair, before letting his hand fall in the space between them, thinking better of it.

That was the thing between them. They could sleep together but they couldn’t touch each other in the way they wanted. That would be admitting to something Steve wasn’t ready to commit to. It was his own personal secret, not from Eddie but from himself. Eddie was just a bystander bearing witness to the civil war of Steve’s heart and his better judgment.

“Say your goodbyes to Henderson because next time I see him he’s dead,” Steve whispered.

Eddie shifted, settling down for sleep as they’d done other nights. They never talked for long. If they talked it would be an admission that the two of them sleeping together was as much for pleasure as it was for necessity. Steve lay beside Eddie feeling as though his body were a room he was outside of.

He tried to push the surge of emotions down, as he had all other nights. He felt as though he were holding his head underwater.

The past and the present tangled like fingers through unkempt hair. Unrelated guilts intertwined inextricably. Steve felt like he was drowning, laying beside the body of a boy he wanted to cling to like a life vest, while his eyes lay locked on the black shadow beyond the half-shut curtains. The swimming pool, where a girl had been dragged deep into the blackness. Steve was back at Lover’s Lake. He was in love and he was drowning.

“Steve, are you okay?” Eddie was on his side, looking at Steve’s profile.

His heart had circumnavigated his chest and worked its way up into his mouth, making it hard to breathe, hijacking his ears with the erratic beat.

He tried to use Eddie’s voice to centre himself, to detangle the threads of history from histrionics, so all that would remain was himself and a boy in a bed with hair like history repeating. Steve had hands that wanted to undo time.

He remembered years before when Nancy had been the one that’d made his heartbeat throb like an infected wound. He knew logically, the emotions were the same. He’d sunk into Nancy’s body as one wades into deep water. He wondered what it’d be like to do the same to Eddie. Moreover, what it’d be like to be the water. To be a geyser by the ocean both filling and full.

He couldn’t breathe.

“I think I’m dying,” Steve whispered, finding his voice fractured by the thrum of his heart. Eddie’s face shifted to a look of understanding.

Eddie’s hand was on his cheek, turning Steve to face him.

“Look at me. You’re not dying,’ Eddie’s voice was stern and self-assured.

Steve wanted to believe him. He couldn’t. Eddie’s fingers drew circles in his flesh.

“Can I show you something?” Eddie asked.

Steve’s throat was clogged shut, still holding his haemorrhaging heart. He nodded.

“You’ve got something behind your ear,” Eddie muttered, pulling his hand back from Steve’s face to reveal his guitar pick, held on a necklace string. A magic trick.

It shook something loose, deep inside him. He doubled over, buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder and laughed. He took gasping inhales of Eddie’s skin, breathing in cigarette ash and musky cologne.

“That was so lame,” Steve gasped when he found his voice.

“You loved it,” Eddie argued.

“I loved it and it was lame,” he confirmed shaking his head.

A hush fell over the boys. Not the quiet of sleep, but the stillness of contemplation.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Eddie spoke, leaving it for Steve to pick up or push away.

What was he supposed to say? ‘I want to kiss you and it scares me shitless.’

“I thought I saw something,” he replied lamely.

Eddie’s brows furrowed. They both knew nothing was out there but when you’d been through what they had, some days logic wasn’t enough. It was a lie almost big enough to cover the scope of the truth.

Eddie shifted, tucking his knee between Steve’s legs, pulling them together so the two were chest to chest, breath mingling.

“We’re fine,” Eddie said with conviction as though speaking the words could somehow make them true.

They were back to the same old routine.

The two boys lay crushed close together, leaving space in the sheets for all the things unspoken between them, all the vampiric night horrors that’d burn up come daylight.

What would remain of the feelings come morning, Steve didn’t know but with his eyelids heavy and Eddie’s hand feather-light on his hip he stopped struggling against the tide of weary want and worry. He closed his eyes, leaned into Eddie’s body and let the feelings crash over his head, a wilful sort of drowning.

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windsweptinred · 1 year

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Dear Mr Sandman....

(A cold December evening, in a small cozy flat above the New Inn, London.)

Hob: So... My Saturday girl, Rachel. She volunteers at the local library, helps with afterschool sessions. I... may have suggested an activity for the kids. You, Mr Sandman have mail!

Dream:.... Mail?

Hob: (Hands over a neat stack of letters and a small accompanying box). Yup! These are for you!

(Dream carefully unfolds the top letter and begins to read...)

Dear Mr Sandman

Thank you very much for all my dreams this year. My favorite was the one with the bubble rhinoceros. I have drawn a picture of him for you. I hope you like it. Mummy says if I draw anymore of my dreams she'll leave them on the kitchen table for you to collect. Sorry if our dog Charlie barks at you when you come, he likes to bark at strangers but is really friendly. You can find his ball in the top draw. He'd love to play with you. I've told him to be a good boy and you'll give him nice dreams.

Love from

Rosalie Mitchell and Charlie the dog

Dear Mr Sandman

Thank you for all your hard work this year. You must be really busy giving everyone dreams. Do you know Santa and the Tooth Fairy? We always leave Santa milk and cookies and the Tooth fairy teeth to say thank you. I didn't know what you liked so I gave Miss Feean a tub of my favorite magic sand. It's rainbow coloured so should make really good dreams. If you like it, tell Miss Feean and I'll ask Daddy to get some more for you.

Alex Southerns

Dear Mr Sandman

Thank you for letting me still see Grandma when I'm sleeping. I miss her alot. She looks very happy so I know you and the angels are taking good care of her. Tell her Amy says to give you a big hug from me. She gives the best hugs.

Thank you

Amy Haywood

Dear Mr Sandman

Thank you for my dreams. Except the one about the angry dinosaur, I don't like that one. Can you tell him to leave me alone as he is very mean and makes me upset. Are nightmares very naughty dreams? We have red and yellow cards at school. If you're a bit naughty, you get a yellow card and if you're very very naughty you get a red one. You should do that. And give gold stars to all the dreams that are really good. Tell the dinosaur I'll give him my gold star I got for my spelling test if he is good.

Big hugs

Louise Winters.

Dear Mr Sandman

Thank you for looking after me this year. I'm sad a lot, Henry Oakwell in year 6 is really mean to me. And I find school really hard. I'm not good at my school work and don't have a lot of friends. Mummy has to work a lot and I don't want her to worry about me. But you always give me really nice dreams that make me feel really happy. Being the Sandman sounds lonely, are you lonely? My Teddy really helps me when I'm lonely. I can't give you my Teddy but I've made you one out of playdough. Its ear feel off but Miss Feean says she'll put it back on with some glue. I hope he's really nice to you and is a good friend like my Teddy.

From

Tommy Brien

Dream: I don't understand?

Hob: Well, if Santa gets all that praise for one night of wish fulfillment, I reckoned you deserved a little acknowledgement for doing it since the dawn of time.

Dream....May I keep these?

Hob: They've got your name on them Duck. And I'm sure there's more where that came from.

Dream: I.... (Subtly tries to wipe a tear aside) Thank you.

Hob: (Smiles softly) Don't even mention it darling.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #mini fic #Little extra: the day the Corinthian gets a gold star for being good is lowkey the best day of his life

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 6 months

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The Babysitter (18)

I Love You

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 18- W/c 3.7k- This chapter contains 18+ Content

Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp (Comment if you want to be added)

I Love You

Your heart shatters as you walk in the heavy downpour, the rain mixing with the tears streaming down your face as block out everything around you. The sound of rain thrashing against the concrete, the engines of cars, and the laughter of people in surrounding buildings all fade into the background, the noises fuzzy while your mind reels.

Completely losing yourself to the torment of your own thoughts, you miss how your name is desperately called out and how Wanda's steps quickly approach when she runs after you, only noticing when her arm reaches out to stop you.

"Y/n," she whispers, voice raw with emotion and eyes brimming with tears. You still due to her hold on you and turn slowly to look at her, taking in her features through watery eyes while letting her hands move to cup your face. "Detka," she murmurs, her own heart shattering at the sight of you so destroyed at what happened.

You don't say anything, another tear spilling from your eyes as you look into her pained ones.

"It's not what you think," she says, pushing back some of the wet hair that's fallen in front of her face.

"He kissed you," you mutter, the whole interaction replays in your mind while you try to focus on what else happened besides the kiss as it was distorting the way you remembered the interaction. All you could remember though was his hands cupping her cheeks, his lips pressed against hers, causing your heart to break a little more and insecurities to build inside you.

"Exactly, he kissed me," she emphasises, your mind now remembering how her arms moved to his chest to push him off, not returning the kiss at all, "I didn't want to kiss him."

You remain quiet, letting the rain continue its onslaught on you both while you stand on the pavement. You think about Melina's words, trying your absolute best to consider Wanda's side of it, trying to look at it from her perspective and not be rash but all that happens is you remember her hesitance.

"You hesitated." Her brows furrow at your words, the confusion and insecurity that's surfaced in your eyes replacing the hurt. "Why did you hesitate?" When she struggles to respond, you let out a sigh, lowering your head and avoiding her gaze. "You considered it, didn't you?" the tone of your voice almost pleads her to prove you wrong, prove that she didn't consider getting back with him.

"No," she says, her voice laced with honesty and desperation to show you that she didn't. "I hesitated because... all I could think about was the man I fell in love with all those years ago." Slowly, you raised your gaze to meet her own, astonished by the amount of emotion swirling in her eyes. "All I could think about was how much he changed, how much I hated him now."

Her hands are still cupping your cheeks, her thumbs wiping the rain and tears off your cheeks as you both stay locked in the moment. You simply both gaze into each other's eyes, losing yourself in her eyes like you always do before breaking the intimate stare.

"He still loves you," You say more out loud to yourself then her, his words causing doubt to stir inside you. He could provide for her better. He's the more stable option. He's the twins' father-

"I don't love him," she murmurs, stepping closer to you and letting her fingers softly brush your soaking hair out of your face. "I don't want him," she whispers, her eyes staring into your own with nothing but love and tenderness. "I want you Y/n. I love you."

Your heart splits into two at her words, part of you revelling with joy because she loves you, but the other half breaks once more as insecurities and doubts gnaw painfully at you. Your mothers words ring around inside your head, Vision's subtle little smirk after kissing Wanda, the pain and grief of the last time you heard those words joining the vile words of your mother.

Noticing the conflict on your face, seeing that disheartened and insecure look in your eyes, Wanda brings you out of the spiral of thoughts, sensing the things your mother had said were making you feel like you were unworthy of her love.

How could someone ever love you?

It won't last, you know?

Do you really think anyone will love you after what you did?

"It's true," she murmurs softly, caressing your cheeks and offering a comforting smile, trying to get you to think like yourself. The thoughts fade away at her soft tone, that gentle tone that causes warmth to take over your chest and calm you down.

"I love you, Y/n. You're all I want. All I could ever want."

The negative and insecure thoughts continue to drift away, your mind now able to comprehend what she's actually saying: she loves you. The revelation makes a small smile break out on your face, her immediately noticing the shift in mood.

"There's my Detka," she murmurs, your hands going to hover at her waist as she leans forwards so she can press her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry," you sigh out, an apologetic tone lacing your words. "I'm sorry I freaked out-"

"Shh," she gently whispers, hushing your apology, "You don't need to apologise Detka." Her head moves so that her lips can press a featherlight kiss to your forehead, lingering at the wet skin before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.

"I..." You trail off, wanting to say the three words back to her but your throat closing up, the anxiety around the words stopping you. As always, she notices and understands you're not ready, pressing another soft kiss on your cheek before moving to ghost her lips over yours.

"You don't have to say it if you're not ready," she murmurs and her just being so, so perfect, makes you want to say it even though you can't.

"You're everything I want and more," you whisper with a raw tone, trying to convey the love you feel for her in your gaze and words. "You own my heart, Wanda, and because of you, I don't have to make an effort to be happy again. You're my everything."

Wasting no time, her lips crash to yours and the whole world seems to stop. All you can feel is the way her lips meet your own, the way her hands are cupping your cheeks, her body pressing up against yours. It's her, it's all her and that's all you want.

***

Your back hits the door as her body pushes you up against it, the contrast between her warm home and the bitter wind and rain causing a pleasant feeling to flow through you as you heat up a little.

Your whole body soon feels like it's on fire though when her lips press to your own again, her tongue dominantly sliding into your mouth and taking control. Her hands move to your soaked hair, pushing the wet strands back as they fall between your faces while your mouths crash back together.

She steals your breath away, both literally and figuratively as her lips are relentless and that sultry look in her eyes short cuts your brain. The look of pure desire and want causes an unbearable heat to build between your thighs as her body presses further against you, leg slotting between your legs.

A small moan leaves you at the action, your head lolling back while you pant for breath. The older woman takes this as an opportunity to mark your neck once more, letting her teeth scrape down the sensitive skin, which causes a shiver to run down your spine, before littering it in hot, open-mouthed kisses.

"Please," you whimper as your hands helplessly hold onto her waist, the submissive tone of your voice not going unnoticed by her.

"Please what?" she teases with a low tone, pulling away from your neck to admire your dishevelled state. Her eyes scan over your own, watching the way they somehow darken even more before glancing down to your lips, admiring the way your tongue subconsciously wets them. "You have to use your words Detka."

Her lips ghost yours, waiting eagerly for your response but you're rendered speechless by her, too consumed by your arousal to voice what you want.

"Wanda, please," you whisper once more, the desperate look enough to make her take mercy on you. Her hands guide yours to her blouse, helping you unbutton it before shrugging the item off, leaving her in a white lace bra. "Fuck," the word spills from your lips in an enamoured tone, your mind unable to comprehend how someone can be this beautiful.

As your lingering look comes to an end, she pulls away, hooking a finger in the belt loop of your jeans to pull you with her until her back reaches the wall near the stairs. Her hands roam your body while yours do the same to hers, confidence building in you at every little sensual sigh and low moan.

"Fuck Detka," she groans when you suck on the juncture of her neck, her fingers tangled in your locks as you mark her neck. She tugs your head back and manoeuvres so she can walk up the stairs while keeping you close.

It's as if the world would end if you stopped touching each other, the contact necessary to live as the two of you refused to part on the way to her room. You lost track of how many times you pinned each other to a nearby wall, unable to control yourselves as you passionately pour all your emotions into every kiss.

Eventually, you make it to her room, her body swiftly straddling your lap as her hands drift down your body, pulling on the bottom of your shirt.

"Is this ok?" she murmurs, her tone soft and gentle contrasting the hungry and rough kisses.

"Yes," you sigh out, voice laced with neediness as you look up into her enticing eyes. "I need you, please," the way you look at her indicates what you want, the older woman's gaze softening when she sees how much you desire her touch.

"Tell me to stop and I will," she whispers against your lips, pushing you back so you're laid on the mattress with her soft body on top. You move your arms so she can easily pull your shirt over your head, her eyes drifting down your body while she bites her lower lip. "You're beautiful Dekta," she husks out against your lips, pressing her mouth to yours briefly before letting her kisses trail down your jaw and neck. You blush at her words and the way she takes in your body, breath hitching when her kisses travel lower to your collarbone.

Her hands glide up your body, feeling all the soft skin under her fingertips and enjoying the way your muscles twitch under her touch, moving them until they reach around your back to unclasp your bra. Her eyes ask the silent question causing you to nod, her fingers swiftly taking the item off.

"Oh fuck," you moan out, hands shooting out to grasp at her hair when her tongue licks down the valley between your breasts, pressing sensual kisses around your nipple before casting her gaze up, holding the eye contact, and taking your breast into her mouth. A lewd noise is ripped from the back of your throat at the way her tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, her hand moving to your neglected breast and giving it attention.

Your fingers thread properly into her locks, the soft hair heavenly to touch as her mouth works wonders on you, moving to the other breast and letting her fingers pinch and pull your now wet nipple to make you groan beneath her.

When she pulls back, a string of saliva is attached from her mouth to your chest making you curse at how hot she looks peering up at you with that dominant and seductive look. Her thumb moves to her lips to remove it, the action fuelling your arousal as she smirks at the way your breath hitches at her movements, deciding to torment you a little more. Her face returns to yours, lips pressing against yours for a bruising kiss before pulling back and moving to whisper in the shell of your ear,

"Remember what I said to you on our first night," her tone is sultry while her teeth nibble gently on your ear lobe, a small hum escaping you as that's all you can manage in response. "I said I was going to ruin you Detka, and I will," she chuckles at the way you moan at her words, her index finger moving to the base of your neck so she can drag it teasingly down your body. Her nail scrapes softly at your skin, travelling down your desperate body, between your breasts, over your stomach until it reaches the waistband of your jeans, slipping a finger under briefly before taking it out as she gauges your reaction.

"Please," you whimper, eyes pleading her to finally touch you. "Please, I need you so bad, Wanda please," you beg and her lips silence you, a moan being muffled by her mouth.

"Hush Detka," she coos a little condescendingly and you're embarrassed at how much that turns you on, "I've got you, I'll take care of you." Effortlessly, her hands unfasten your jeans and slide them down your legs, you helping completely rid the item and watching as her fingers glide over the expanse of your thighs.

The green in her eyes has completely disappeared, replaced by hunger and desire as she takes in your needy form panting in anticipation while her fingers inch closer and closer to your dripping core.

A moan spills from your lips as your head lolls back when her fingers finally meet your soaked panties, hips pathetically bucking at the small action. She smirks at your reaction, letting her fingers slowly circle your clit through the fabric, gradually building the pleasure inside you. As she persists with her deliberately slow pace, your hips move against her hand, grinding unabashedly as you crave to feel her doing more.

"So needy, so desperate," she mutters against your lips, claiming them while she removes the drenched fabric from your body, your heart beating wildly in your chest. "So wet," she purrs when her fingers slide through your folds, your arousal coating her digits. A sinful noise escapes you at the feeling of her circling your clit, pleasure taking over all your senses, hands moving to clutch desperately at the sheets by your side.

"Wanda," you sigh out when her fingers move lower, a moan leaving her lips at the way you say her name. You're about to say her name again but it's interrupted by a broken moan when she slides a finger inside you and slowly starts to thrust it inside you.

"That's it baby," she praises, knowing how much you liked it last time, "Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." You moan once again when she adds another finger, pumping both long, slender digits inside you and curling them beautifully inside you. Her leisurely pace soon vanishes when she seems to struggle holding back, teasing herself as well as you at how slow she was fingering you.

"Fuck!" you scream, her mouth claiming yours to muffle the noises she rips from the back of your throat as her fingers speed up, fucking you at a merciless pace. Her thumb moves to circle your clit, adding to the overwhelming pleasure as your hips grind frantically against her hand.

Her free hand moves to interlock with yours, placing it near your head and squeezing it encouragingly as your orgasm approaches quickly, her mouth parting from yours to whisper soft words.

"I've got you Detka, you can let go," you whimper in response, your legs trembling at the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. "Come for me," at her command, you crash head first into your orgasm, a string of moans spilling from your lips while you ride out your powerful release. She presses soft kisses over your face as you come down from your high, tilting your head to catch her lips for a passionate kiss.

"That was..." you sigh out, too blissed out to describe to her the way she sent you all the way to heaven.

"Amazing? Fantastic? The best you've ever had?" she mutters playfully, a chuckle escaping you as she knows it's the first time and therefore the best.

"Don't get too smug," you say, smiling up at her. Her lips tug upwards as she mirrors your content expression while you try and regain your composure.

"Can you do one more?" she asks while letting her teeth bite down on her lower lip, becoming irresistible. Your eyebrows raise at her question, body craving to feel her once again so you nod, letting her take a hold of your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Swiftly, she removes her remaining clothes, her true beauty on show as she straddles your lap completely bare. It was as if Aphrodite crafted her body, sculpting it to perfection.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she murmurs against your lips, your hands travelling down her body to where she guides you to. She lets you slide a finger through her folds, groaning into the kiss at feeling wet she is, how wet she is because of you. "You drive me insane," she moans out, your finger delicately circling her clit before her hand stops you, a confused expression taking over your face. "I want to try something," she explains, a smirk tugging at her lips as you watch her get into position.

A guttural moan escapes you when her dripping core meets your own, grinding down gently to cause pleasure to consume your body. Her hands brace themselves above your head, interlocking your fingers as she grinds down against you unabashedly.

"Y/n," she moans out near the shell of your ear, a pitiful noise escaping you at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. The sensation of her clit brushing yours, the small sighs being released next to your ear and the fact you just orgasmed causes your next one to rapidly build. Your fingers tighten the grip on Wanda's, your hips bucking up in search of more friction to send you over the edge but restricted by the body on top of you.

A desperate noise rips from the back of your throat when she grinds a little harder, her mouth moving to press against yours momentarily before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.

"Wanda," you groan out, hoping by the way your body starts to tense and tremble she gets the hint that you're close.

"Hold it," she sighs out, grinding even harder and faster against you, the relentless pleasure wracking through your body causing you to throw your head back against the mattress.

"Please," the tone of your voice is nothing but submissive, laced with desperation as you plead the woman to let you come.

"Just a little longer," she pants out, nearing her own release as she thrusts her hips down against you, cursing lowly in Sokovian at the way your soaking cunt feels against hers. "Fuck, come with me Detka," she groans against your lips, both of you falling over the edge.

The room fills with quieting moans and sighs as you ride out the aftershocks of your powerful orgasms, your body twitching under hers as your body buzzes with a slight overstimulated feeling.

A few moments later, soft fingers brush along your jawline and at your cheek, coaxing you to open your eyes and look at her. She smiles tenderly down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before moving off you, pulling your body closer to cuddle into her side.

"I'm sorry about earlier," you murmur into the tranquil room, your head resting on her shoulder as your fingers trace random patterns on her skin, her hands scratching up and down your back.

"Detka-"

"No, please let me finish," you interrupted with a soft voice, tilting your head to look up at her. "I shouldn't have reacted in that way and assumed things without letting you say your side of it." You gauge her reaction to your words, her features softening, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you for apologising," she murmurs back, understanding that you felt like you had to apologise to her even though, in her opinion, you didn't need to. It was an appropriate reaction to seeing someone else kiss the person you care about but she could sense a certain guilt inside you, making her drop the subject.

The two of you remain quiet, simply embracing the moment together and relaxing into each other's arms, the comfort of her body slowly lulling you to sleep.

"Not yet Detka," Wanda whispers, waking you up a little bit to which you groan drowsily at, " You need to get cleaned up and go to the bathroom before we can sleep." You want to protest, too sleepy to do anything but the semi-stern look the older woman shoots your way for not wanting to do any sort of aftercare makes you begrudgingly slip out of the bed to listen to her.

Wanda does the same and helps your tired form, cooing loving phrases as the exhaustion from your orgasms catches up on you, scuffing your feet across her room back to the bed. A content smile plays on her lips at the way you steal one of her shirts and slip it on before joining her in bed, snuggling as close as you possibly could to her.

"I love you," she whispers into your hair as you drift off into a peaceful sleep, unable to stop the smile that forces its way onto her face.

She would never have thought that you, the babysitter, would have been the person to make her feel loved again, but here you were, giving her everything she wanted and more.

224 notes · View notes

sweetenerobert · 7 months

Text

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐕𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

DAY TWO OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

tattoo artist!tommy miller × male reader

genre: sisters boyfriend tommy, childhood friends to lovers, explicit, no outbreak au, minors DNI

prompt: taboo au + “do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

summary: your sister’s boyfriend catches you reading smut in the kitchen and sees if you want to make your own smutty chapter

warnings: strong language, homophobic sister, cheating, mention of an age gap, face fucking, unprotected P in A, choking, spanking, dirty talk, pet names, creampies, fingering, spitting

word count: 7.4k

a/n: thanks to @morallyinept for listening to me rant about this, love you 🤍

It was your twenty-second birthday, and to say you were excited was an understatement. You’ve been looking forward to this day for a few days, why? You were getting your first tattoo ever. Your two best friends, Kevin and Eli, made you an appointment — already paid for.

You’d also discovered that your sister was planning for everyone to meet her boyfriend on the night of your birthday party. Your sister, Sasha, tends to steal your thunder — a handful of times. Once, when you were five, and she was seven, you made a Lego spaceship, and she had made an even bigger spaceship — with popsicle sticks.

That one time when you were thirteen, and you had gotten a cross-country award, and she was fifteen and had gotten a giant volleyball trophy. But this day didn't bring you down as much as you wouldn't let it.

After pulling up to the tattoo parlor, your excitement almost exploded through the roof. You’d gone through Pinterest last night like a rich person going through a Gucci store — overzealous. Making so many decisions, you were conflicted between three options.

The smell of a mint air freshener hits your nostrils first rather than anything else. The lights weren't so bright that they hurt your eyes, more or less made you have to cover for a second. Next, you saw the big flashbooks sitting on the small coffee table. But something else caught your eye — more importantly, someone.

His hair was slicked back — stopped by his neck. His neck was covered with tattoos, and his arms were covered with tattoos. He had a septum piercing, and his ears were stretched — having a small gauge in its place. His shirt was tight. You could see his pecs bulging underneath. The man was glancing down at his phone as the bell from the door didn't get his attention. As Kevin let go of the door, the bell rang, the man brought his head up, and a smile was on his face.

“Hey, sorry. Didn't notice you guys were standin’ there.”

His Texan accent was thick. It sent shivers down your spine hearing it.

“It’s fine,” You dismiss. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, a lil tired, but good,” Tommy smiles. Tommy gets up from his seat, walks around the counter, and walks before you, Eli, and Kevin.

“So, who's the lucky sumobitch to get a tattoo?”

You smile and raise your hand as Eli wraps his arm around your shoulder. “This boy, he’s twenty-two.”

“He’s not a little boy no more,” Tommy smirks.

“He is not, he’s been wanting a tattoo since forever,” Kevin smirks.

“How come you’ve never gotten one before?” Tommy crosses his arms.

You shrug. “Never really had the time, and when I did. I would always forget about it.

"Well. This is your first step into becoming a man," Tommy smirks.

"Isn't that what your father says during puberty?"

"Yes, but this is also an important milestone in a young man's life, and I'm more than happy to start that."

You rub your hands in impatience, more than feeling anxious. You were ready and excited for this day to continue and drag slowly. You didn't want it to end anytime soon.

"Let's get this show on the road," You exclaim.

"That's the spirit. Since this has already been taken care of, you can come with me,” Tommy states, walking.

You eagerly follow Tommy, standing behind him; you can't help but admire his back muscles in his tight shirt; the way it hugs his back does something to you. His pants hug his ass to be firm and cup his buns perfectly. You shouldn't feel this way ─ especially on your birthday. You appreciated Tommy's distraction, but you wanted to keep your head focused on this day. So you snap your head back to look up at Tommy's neck.

You look up at Tommy, making the distraction harder to contain. Your thoughts travel from clean to smutty when you think about how your hands would look tangled in his hair, your nails clawing his back as he thrusts his cock deep in you.

You had to shake your head to eliminate those dirty thoughts you were thinking about. You and Tommy arrived in a small room with a hydraulics chair in the middle of it, a TV mounted on the wall, and a desk arranged with a bunch of equipment you didn't know except the tattoo gun resting.

You looked nervous as Tommy turned around to look at you; you were rubbing your hands slowly, glancing around the room, and biting your lip. "You fine?" Tommy questions.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at Tommy. "Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about something, and it distracted me," You dismissed.

Tommy crossed his arms with a smirk on his face. "What were you thinkin' about?"

"You fucking the shit out of me and calling me a good boy," You thought.

"A birthday present I've wanted for a while," You spoke. It wasn't a total lie. You've been wanting a book for quite a while but never had the time to try and find it.

"What's the book titled?" Tommy nodded. You couldn't tell if he was trying to catch you in a lie or if he was genuinely interested in the book.

"Sweet Dandelion by Micalea Smeltzer," You smirked. "Why are you interested in a book anyway?"

Tommy chuckles, "What? I don't seem the type to read?"

You shrug your shoulders. "No?" You question.

"You'd be right; my girlfriend said I should buy a gift for her brother, and the suggestion she gave me: books. Importantly, romance books," Tommy explained.

"Of course, he has a girlfriend that puts my horny mind at ease," You thought.

"It is a romance book, more on the forbidden side."

"He might like it. I have impeccable taste in books," You comment.

“Is this a special occasion or something?”

“It's his birthday today, and I wanted to give him somethin’ out of the kindness of my heart,” Tommy shrugged.

“Aw, that's sweet. Even if you don’t know that person.”

“I just want everyone to like me, y’know. I don't want to make a fool of myself,” Tommy admits.

“You won't, just be yourself. I met you five minutes ago, and you seem cool.”

Tommy smiles. "Yeah, I bet. Anyways, you have a design in mind?"

"Oh," You exclaim. "Yeah, gimme a second." You pull your phone out of your pocket. Scrolling through the choices in your camera roll, you pick the option you decided on last night and show it to Tommy.

He strokes his beard and nods his head. "Got it, sit down. Do you need anything to drink?" Tommy asks.

"Water's fine," You state.

You sit in the hydraulics chair, watching Tommy leave the room. You have a smile plastered on your face in excitement. Your hands kept patting your thigh into a rhythmic beat, waiting for Tommy.

As you slowly glance your head around the room, Tommy walks in the room holding a water bottle in his veiny hands.

"Here ya' go, songbird.”

"Songbird? That's a new one," You smirk.

"Your friends made the mistake of telling me one of your favorite hobbies," Tommy smiles.

"Remind me to slap them later," You breathe.

Tommy's laugh made you smile and caused heat to rise to your cheeks. Grabbing black latex gloves and slipping them on his hands with a snap. "You ready to get this show on the road, butterfly?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "I'm ready.

It had been a few hours since you got your tattoo, and you couldn’t stop staring at it. Likewise with your family, but more looks of questioning and disgust from your sister. Kevin and Eli were excited about how your tattoo looked.

You were sitting in the dining room — at the dinner table, your mom had made your favorite dishes for your birthday, and your mouth was watering as you waited for Sasha's boyfriend. You were eager to stuff your face with all the food in front of you. You were bouncing your leg to think about anything else to distract you from the air scents whiffing to your nose.

"Does it itch?"

You turn your head to look at your mom to hear her question. "Yeah, I mean the ointment the guy gave me is working, but the urge to itch it is high now," You admitted.

"I still can't believe you still got a tattoo," Sasha stated.

"I'm twenty-two now, and I barely drink. So, a tattoo was a better option to play it safe on my birthday."

"What if you get an infection?" Sasha questioned.

You shrug. "I'll deal with that when that road comes into view."

"You're insane."

"We've established that already, sweetheart," You smirk.

"Now, now, Sasha," Your dad started. "He's an adult, and even adults need help on occasion. Son, if anything happens, let us know. And we'll help."

Your dad grabs your shoulder in a comforting way ─ knowing how intense his daughter can be.

"He's right, honey. If anything happens, let us know," Your mom smiled.

You smiled at your mom and dad's comforting tones. You and Sasha tended to be at each other's throats at times, her usually breaking your spirits. Your parents dreaded it whenever you two argued. At times, you both could say and resent each other and not speak to each other for days ─ your longest time? A week.

Your dad glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Sasha, where is this boy at? Your brother and I are starving, and this food is going to waste."

"Daddy," Sasha starts, grabbing her phone from her jeans pocket. "He said that he ─ oh he's here," Sasha smiled, getting up from her seat.

You, Eli and Kevin turn your head as the three of you hear a loud engine roaring outside. "How much you want to bet, he's got a tiny dick?" Eli questioned. You and Kevin both snickered. Glancing at the door, Sasha's standing outside cheerfully like a child seeing the ice cream truck.

Your mind had drifted back to the tattoo artist. You wondered if you were ever going to see him again. You missed his smile; his tattoos were intriguing, and you wished you had studied them more as you were in his chair. You also yearned to know what his name was. Eli and Kevin forgot who his name was when you asked them when you left. Tapping your finger on the table, waiting for Sasha to return, you hear the door open, and Sasha starts talking. “Everyone! I want everyone to meet my boyfriend,” Sasha starts. A person begins to walk in as Sasha talks; You, Kevin, and Eli are wide-eyed to see who's coming in.

It was the same guy who did your tattoo hours ago. He walked in, a beaming smile on his face, wearing a leather jacket and a wrapped gift in his hand. Wearing the same jeans you admired him in prior, you bit your lip to calm yourself down.

“His name is Tommy, and he’s a tattoo artist,” Sasha smirked.

You were too stunned even to acknowledge your sister's statement. You knew who Tommy was hours prior. The same man you fantasized about, who did your tattoo hours ago, is dating your sister.

“It's nice to meet everyone,” Tommy smirks.

“His name is Tommy?” Kevin asks.

“I forgot about that,” Eli admits.

“Of all guys, Sasha could’ve dated. It had to be him,” You whined.

“Hey, dummy. Come and get your present,” Sasha’s voice snapped you out of a weird, one-sided conversation with your friends.

You reluctantly get up from your seat and walk towards Tommy. A look of shock and confusion appeared on his face. You anxiously rub the back of your neck.

“Songbird? Sasha’s your sister?” Tommy questions.

“Songbird?” Sasha questions.

“Oh, that reminds me,” You turn to look at Eli and Kevin. “I’m going to hit you both.”

“C’mon, we were looking at ideas for your birthday, and karaoke came up,” Eli starts.

“We both know how much you love to sing, and maybe we found one, and we could go to it after dinner?”

“I’ll revoke the slap for now,” You nod, turning back to look at Tommy with a smirk, indicating he was nervous. “I hope you like it,” Tommy states, handing you the gift.

You take the gift from his hand and glance down at it in your palms. You don't remember when someone wrapped a birthday gift for you. You appreciated Kevin and Eli’s gifts, the tattoo mainly, but in the past, you’ve never gotten a hand-wrapped present before.

You appreciated that Tommy took the time out of his day to hand-wrap you a gift.

You glance at everyone staring at you in anticipation.

“You guys want me to open this now?” You question.

“Yes,” Everyone except Tommy spoke, making you jump out of your skin. You reluctantly open the gift-wrapping paper and rip away at the material as you feel the object's hardness underneath. Take the paper entirely off and see what’s in your hand.

A book you have been looking for a long time. Sweet Dandelion in your hand. The same feeling of being overzealous you had a day ago was rising back up again.

“Holy God, where did you find this?” You ask.

“I went to three different stores to find this book, and I had to gift-wrap it as soon as I got home. That's why I’m late, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“This is amazing. I forgot that I even talked about this with you.”

“You really shouldn't have gone through all this trouble,” You suggested,

Tommy waved his hand. “Like I told you, I wanted my girlfriend's family to like me, and I think I got bonus points for her younger brother.”

You were smiling from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck in an embrace. He was tall, so it felt like hugging a tall stuffed animal. Tommy wrapped his arms around your back and patted your back. As your face sat in the crook of his neck, you felt Deja vu — like you’ve done this before — with Tommy.

You back up from Tommy’s hug, the leather of his jacket making a weird sound as you back up. You look at Tommy with a confused look as he gives you an awkward smile. “Thanks,” You manage to breathe out.

“No problem, it was no trouble at all,” Tommy dismissed.

“Sorry to interrupt, whatever that was. May you three sit down so we can enjoy this delicious food,” Your dad exclaims.

“Please? I’ve been hungry since,” Tommy smiles.

“Well, come on, then. Sit down, everyone,” Your mom waves at the trio standing up.

You, Sasha, and Tommy take your seats, where Tommy sits next to Sasha — near your father. A grin arose on your face as you could tell that Tommy was metaphorically shitting his pants.

━━━

Minutes ago, after dinner had ended, you were standing on your porch, arms crossed, watching Kevin and Eli admire Tommy’s car — a 2016 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, and watching your father and Tommy talking about the car. You couldn’t help but think about Tommy halfway through dinner. That feeling felt so surreal, and yet you yearned for it again.

“Mom and Dad seem to like Tommy,” Sasha states.

You nearly jump out of your skin hearing your sister.

“Oh! You jump. “What?”

“I said, Mom and Dad seem to like Tommy. How do you feel about him?”

“Oh,” You breathe. “Tommy’s cool and funny. I see why you like him.”

Sasha nodded. “Are you guys leaving soon?”

“Yeah. Would you like to join us?” You question.

“God, no! I don't know how you do that karaoke shit.”

“It's fun — especially when in a group. Do you think Tommy would want to join?”

Sasha turned her head to look at you with disgust written on her face. You could feel her gaze on you, and you turned your head. Whenever you see this look on her face, it usually sends chills down your spine and back — the type of chills that you want to hide from your older sister.

“Do you have a crush on Tommy or something?” Sasha interrogated.

“What? No! I can’t,” You spat.

“Good. It would be best if you stayed away from Tommy. I can tell you make him uncomfortable.”

“How do I make him uncomfortable?” You question.

“With that little hug, you have him inside earlier. You didn't stop staring at him at the table.”

“Our dad often interrogated him. I was interested in the questions and how Tommy would answer,” You spoke.

“So that must mean you’re interested in him,” Sasha retorted

“What? No what is your—”

Sasha turned her whole to stare at her younger brother with such anger that made your stomach churn with how intense her stare marked your soul.

“Stay away from my boyfriend, and we won't have any issues,” Sasha growled and retreated inside the house.

Sasha always tended to assume that you liked her new boyfriends when, in reality, you wanted nothing to do with them. But Tommy could be a different story. You weren't sure how you felt about him. You knew the Southern was attractive, but he’s dating your high-maintenance sister, and you would try your best to stay away from him. No matter how much his “bad boy image” would distract you.

Glancing back at your two best friends, they’re conversing with Tommy while you notice your dad walking up the stairs to the porch. “Have fun, son. Stay safe,” Your dad nodded. You smiled and nodded as your dad’s hands make contact with your shoulder — comforting you.

Your dad walks into the house. You see Eli and Kevin walk to Eli’s car — the conversation with Tommy seems to have ended. You reflectively walk to the back of Eli’s car — hand on the handle, but you yearn for that feeling with Tommy again that you did the unthinkable despite your sister's protests earlier.

“Hey, Tommy!” You exclaimed. Jogging towards the Southern, Tommy turns around to face you. As you are in front of him, jogging to him makes you receive that same feeling you received hours ago — that deja vu crawling from your stomach to your throat. Now, you were sure you must have known Tommy before.

“What’s up, Songbird?” Tommy asks.

His voice sent a chill down your soft cock. You wished how it would sound from behind hearing his voice.

“It was nice getting to know you, and thank you for the book. I hope to see you more around,” You smiled.

Tommy's smile could light up a room; hell, he could bring the sun back up from its dusk state.

“I would like that,” Tommy nodded.

As Tommy started to walk away, you had another question arise from your throat. “Hey!” Tommy turned to look at you. “One more question, and then I’ll let you go home.”

Tommy chuckles. “You can bother me anytime.”

“Before you permanently drew on my skin, do you think we have met before?”

His pupils glanced up at the dusk scenic sky, drew his lips in a frown, and shook his hand. “Can’t seem to think of any time, any reason?”

“Nah, it's nothing important,” You waved. “See you, Tommy.”

“See ya’, Songbird.”

You smile as you walk away from Tommy. That nickname would keep making you feel specific ways you shouldn't be feeling.

The days Tommy had come over the house felt countless. You’ve seen him more times than Eli and Kevin. After work, you only want to lounge in your bed and forget about being an adult. But then you see Tommy’s car in the driveway, and you are scared to enter cause the idea of hearing your sister's moans makes your skin crawl, and you feel physically ill.

But the times when you heard them, you wanted to crawl into a hole and be buried alive. Tommy usually would have to sneak in the house, but you would rarely listen to what happens when the two were together, and you were grateful for that. However, sometimes, you couldn't sleep, and you hated the sounds your sister would make.

But the grunts, praising, and degrading that Tommy would spit out made you feel a certain way you would hate to tell anyone. Sometimes your cock would twitch hearing Tommy’s voice, having to bite your lips to stifle your moans.

This was one of the rare nights where you couldn't sleep, and you didn't feel like wasting time lying in your bed. You would hate to admit it, but the book Tommy gave you was your favorite thing to read. You were reading in the kitchen, sitting in the high chair — feet dangling near the floor, book in hand.

It was a quiet night. Mom, Dad, and Sasha were sleeping, but you knew Tommy was over the house. You heard his car coming up the driveway. However, you didn't hear anything from Sasha’s room — which you were grateful for. You couldn't tell if you blanked out the sounds or if nothing was happening.

Too involved in the book you were reading, you didn't hear Tommy behind you — your back towards the opening he walked through. You were too concentrated on the book even to notice Tommy. It was only until Tommy's tall stature towered over you — his head over your shoulder.

“Whatcha’ reading?” Tommy asks.

“Jesus!” You exclaim, clutching your chest.

Tommy retracts his head from colliding with yours.

“Sorry. I scared ya’. Can I open your fridge?”

You turn half of your body to look at Tommy in confusion. “It’s insane that you are one of the only people who’s asked me that?”

“Really?” Tommy interrogated.

You nodded. “It's the southern charm of Tommy Miller that all the ladies love,” Tommy smiled.

You chuckle. “Help yourself — also, don't let my sister hear you say that other girls love that southern charm — she can be a bit possessive/intense.”

“Is she?” Tommy asks, grabbing the milk carton.

You scoff. “I’ve lived with her my whole life. I understand her intensity.”

Tommy chuckles, shaking the carton. “Hey, another question —”

“You can drink the milk from the carton if it's empty.”

Tommy looks overzealous with joy as he opens the cardboard container and brings it to his lips.

Your eyes slowly traveled to his neck as you watched him gulp down the milk. Eyes slowly trail down his bare chest as your mouth goes dry. You swear Tommy is drinking the milk slower than a baby does; Tommy’s chest and abdomen were covered in abstract, colorful tattoos, and you saw them as you yearned to trail your fingertips all over his tattoos.

Your eyes glance at his V-line, and you would hate to admit how much it turns you on that Tommy’s so defined in his muscles. Eyes glanced down even lower to Tommy’s hardened cock —

You snapped your body forward toward your book to avoid any eye contact with hard, throbbing appendages.

You hear a satisfied sigh escape Tommy’s lips and a light thud as the carton made contact with the counter.

Tommy’s interest peaked as he saw you back in the same position he saw you in a minute ago—the heat from his broad chest inches away from your back. You could feel how close Tommy was without having to look back. His head was hovering over your shoulder once again silently reading, but you weren't paying attention to him. You were trying to drown him out.

“Cock?” Tommy asks.

You nearly jump out of your skin again, but you contain yourself, and you slam the hardcover book shut. Tommy backs up and turns your entire body to see him — crossing your arms.

“What are you reading, songbird?”

“Nothing!” You shrugged. “Just the book you gave me.”

“Are you sure it's nothing?” Tommy questions, mimicking your pose.

“Yeah, why would it be something?”

Tommy brings his hand up from him, crossing his arms, and points at you, but you can't tell what he’s pointing to, so you glance down at yourself and then you see it.

Your dick was hard in your underwear. You wanted to die right then and there. You couldn't believe your sister's boyfriend just saw your hard dick. You quickly leave your crossing-arms position and cover your hardened cock.

“Oh, shush! Yours is hard, too,” You spat.

You wished you kept that you had seen his hard dick. Tommy glances down and shakes his head to the side.

“Wouldcha’ look at that, your right. But I didn't get this from reading dirty words in a book.”

“It's called smut,” You clarify. You wanted to die. You didn't have to mention what it is to Tommy.

“Anywho, I got it because your sister —”

“Barfing now.”

“She left me hangin’. Now I gotta deal with this,” Tommy complained.

“It does look painful.” You muttered. “Shit, sorry, my mouth moves faster than my mind thinks.”

“It's all good.” Tommy waved. “What’s smut?”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you heard Tommy’s question. “You don't know what smut is?”

Tommy’s lips made a thin line as he shook his head.

You took a deep breath before answering his questions.

“It's two book characters essentially fucking, and you're just reading.”

“S’ you're a voyeur?” Tommy asks, taking a step closer to you.

You chuckle. “No! You're getting it from a character perspective, so you're living in their head — in a weird way.”

“Does that turn you on?”

“What do you mean?”

Tommy’s closer now; your knees were touching his naval, his cock throbbing under your upper calf — under your knees.

“I mean, that you could easily be the character in any book, getting fucked out of your brains, screamin’ someone’s name — markin’ your territory with those nails, clawin’ their back. Beggin’ for more of their cock deep inside you.” Tommy whispered.

Your throat goes dry as well as your breaths start to get slower. Your sister's boyfriend was inches — centimeters away from you, and it was driving you crazy. You wanted to feel his lips on yours; would they be soft, rough, dry, or damp? You wanted to know.

"I- I, uh, a little. I try to imagine that's actually me," You swallowed.

Tommy grabs your wrists and moves your hands away from covering your cock. You and Tommy both look at your throbbing member. A wet spot of pre cum leaked through the cotton material and watched your cock throb under Tommy's grip.

Tommy lets go of your wrists and slides his hands up your upper thighs and each side of your waistband. "May I?' Tommy asks. You reluctantly nod. Tommy hooks his fingers and slides your underwear slowly down. "Lift your hips for me, songbird." You listen to Tommy's soft command and lift your hips as he slides your underwear to your ankles.

Your cock aching to be touched, begging to cum; you watch it throb in anticipation as you wait for Tommy's next move. "Do you like it when I touch you like this? I can keep goin' if you want me to," Tommy growls. You nod as Tommy's hands slowly drift from your calves to your thighs. His forehead resting on yours, your noses intertwine with each other. "We don't have to play pretend, songbird. Do what you want ever since I permanently inked your pretty skin."

You slowly place your lips on top of Tommy's as you both enter a passionate and hungry kiss. You wrap your arms around Tommy's neck as he spreads your legs with his hands. You could feel his throbbing cock — through his boxers on yours. His veiny hands make their way to your inner thighs while you can feel Tommy's tongue lick your bottom lip for access into your mouth. You part your lips so Tommy can slip his tongue in your mouth, exploring any way he can get closer to you.

Your hand slips down Tommy's shoulder and chest — feeling his hard nipple and slipping your hand down under his underwear. Stroking his cock toward you you suddenly have this rush of adrenaline. You needed Tommy — more than you would like to admit.

You shoved Tommy away from you, his back colliding with the refrigerator, a look of shock spread across his face. You stand up, walking towards him, your cock still hard as a rock. "I'm now getting a vivid idea of me on my knees in front of you, and you fucking my face — I don't remember that in any I've read, but we could always make our own," You smirk.

Tommy returns your smirk with one of his own. "Whatever you want me to do, songbird."

You kneel on your knees as you watch Tommy slide his boxers down. His cock springs out and hits you in the nose; you chuckle in retaliation. You wrap your lips around the tip of Tommy's cock, and you slowly go towards the base of his cock. Tommy throws his head back as you start to suck his cock. He grabbed your face and started thrusting his hips towards you.

You could feel the tip of his cock punch you in the throat wih each thrust, this feeling was intoxicating and you loved every second.

"Damn, songbird. So fuckin' better than your sister," Tommy growled.

Your pupiles look up at Tommy bearing his teeth and his hands grip your hair and his thrusts become faster, more beastlike. Tommy was enjoying himself more than he should admit. His girlfriend's little brother taking his cock so well, Tommy's knowing he's older and his songbird being twenty-two, he loved the age gap between you two.

Hearing each slurp, gag, and noise come from you, Tommy could have his warm cum shoot down your throat right now. Retracting his cock from your mouth, Tommy grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes. Seeing your saliva drool from your mouth to your chin, your tears down your cheeks — it was a sight for Tommy he found amazing.

"Open your mouth," Tommy commanded.

You complied with his commands and you parted your lips away from each other. Tommy had positioned his face away from yours and spit in your mouth. Before you could think, Tommy's lips smashed onto yours — gripping your throat lightly. “Get up, songbird.”

You get up, and Tommy turns you around, — forcing you to lean on the table where the book’s spine is in your field of view. You could feel Tommy’s cock bounce off your ass. Your sister would murder you if you knew how badly you wanted her boyfriend’s cock inside you.

You could feel his cock press up against your ass, but you felt it back up from you. You hear Tommy spit again, and you don't think anything from it until you feel the tip of Tommy’s cock slowly slide in. You suck in a deep breath.

“S’ fuckin’ tight, baby,” Tommy growled.

You could feel Tommy’s cock stretch you out, slowly, painfully enjoying every inch inside you. Tommy’s hips had a mind of their own as his thrust started slow, but his thighs clapped against your ass.

Tommy’s slow thrusts became more and more intense, but you loved every second of it. With each clap, your moans kept escaping your lips, and Tommy’s cock slipped out of you as you moved forward.

“Ah! Easy,” You breathed.

“Shut up, songbird,” Tommy grunts, smacking your ass — you moan in retaliation. Tommy slides his cock in between your ass cheeks — teasing you. “You want this dick... right, songbird?”

“You want to feel your sister’s boyfriend to shove his cock deep inside you?”

“Yes, Fuck yes, Tommy,” You whine.

Tommy adjusts himself — sliding his cock inside you, but he doesn't go slow. His thrusts were fast, and you were trying to contain your moans from everyone hearing them. Tommy had gripped his hands on your waist tightly, and he was enjoying the sounds escaping your lips. You were clenching your teeth together tightly to keep your moans from escaping your lips, but your whimpers were another thing you tried to contain — but they slipped through your teeth like smoke.

“Baby, those sounds, make my cock twitch like crazy,” Tommy grunted.

“Fuck— shit, Tommy. You’re gonna break me,” You whined.

“That’s the plan, songbird. I want your family to hear how well I treat you. My cock —thrust— buried deep —thrust— inside your tight ass.” Tommy leans closer to you, his lips inches away from your ear.

“I would love to see the look on your sister's face when she sees me fuckin’ your brains out,” Tommy grunted.

The tone of his voice made your spine have knife-like chills crawling up and down all over your back.

With a firm hand-made contact with your bare ass, you moan as a reflex. Another smack came across your ass, another, and another, and another. You became a moaning bullhorn — bearing your teeth, you lay your forehead on your forearm as you feel each thrust rock the kitchen table.

Tommy wrapped his hand in the front of your throat and pulled you to the side of his head.

“Let’s have some real fun, songbird,” Tommy growled. “Get on the fuckin’ floor.”

Tommy slipped his cock out of you, and you went on your knees and then on your back, laid on the floor. The cold sensation of the floor made contact with your cotton-covered back. Tommy crawls on top of you, lifts your legs, and gazes down at your hole. “Look at that, baby. I bet you're still so fuckin’ tight.”

Tommy’s adjust’s his cock — holding your leg and sliding his cock inside you, you fight the urge to scream right there. “Damn, songbird. No music to my ears?”

“That’s soon, Tommy,” You whined.

Tommy’s lips coincide with yours to make a passionate kiss. Tommy’s thrust becomes so addicting and unique that you don't want him to stop — even if anyone saw the two of you making sweet heaven.

“I remember you,” Tommy confesses.

“What?”

“You asked me If we’ve met before — I lied. I knew you a long time ago,” Tommy groaned, placing his hands on both sides of your head

“Really?” You ask.

“Remember Clark?”

Even with Tommy’s dick pumping fast and hard inside, you forced yourself to think about your old friend who moved away when you were in first grade and he was in fifth grade. You two were close and did everything together after school was over. The both of you could take over the world someday, but like all great things, they end because Clark moved away with out telling you.

He stopped coming to the park after school, no phone calls or anything, just pure silence.

“Are you Clark?” You question.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded.

“You lied about your name? Didn't you? Why?”

“Because my name sounded like — damn baby, your tight— like a baby. I hated my name. I didn't know any better,” Tommy states.

“But, I wouldn't have — Oh god, yes, Tommy — made fun of you,”

“I know that, oh songbird. I wanted to tell you right before I left, but it was too late; you have no idea how much I missed you.”

“When I saw you enter my tattoo shop, I wanted to hug you. When I saw you in this house, Everything connected.”

You snap your eyes shut and bear your teeth.

“I have my songbird in my arms again,” Tommy breathed.

You were on the brink of crying; all these emotions of sadness you were feeling were intensified by Tommy’s cock pumping inside you.

“Songbird?”

“Yeah,” You squeaked.

“I love you so much. I needed to say that — I’ve wanted to say that ever since your birthday,” Tommy breathed. Tears started to roll down the side of your face as a smile broke out on your face. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset up—”

“No, it's fine, I’m happy. Too happy, I start crying,” You smile.

“Really?” Tommy breathed.

“Do you love me too?”

“How about this? You keep fucking my brains out. I’ll let you know how I feel. I can feel your cock twitch inside me. I can feel you about to cum.”

“Baby, I’m so fuckin’ close. I’m gonna get you pregnant.”

Tommy’s thrusts become more animalistic, hot, and intense. It felt like a scene from one of your many books. You loved this, your old childhood friend making you feel this way and enjoying the moment with him. Another memory you both will share.

You wrap your hands around Tommy’s broad back, scratching your nails on his back, you feel the warmth of Tommy's body as you are about to cum. “Damn, Tommy. I’m about to cum.”

“Cum f’me baby,” it sounded like a command more than a statement. Your cock throbs, and you exclaim a moan as stings of cum hit your shirt.

“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum in my childhood best friend!” Tommy exclaimed, bearing his teeth. As Tommy’s hips keep going back and forth into you, looking into your eyes, his cum shoots inside you; Tommy steadies himself inches away from your face. You could feel Tommy slip his cock out of you, your hole dripping with his cum.

“How was the ending of this chapter?” Tommy pants.

“Pretty good,” You smiled. Tommy smiles back at you and kisses your lips softly and gently; as he backs up, you look into his eyes. “I love you too.” Tommy’s smile brightened up the whole room. You loved your childhood best friend, and you couldn't ask for anyone better.

“Don’t expect me to call you Clark now,” You insisted.

“I don't; I expect you to call me daddy, now.”

You pushed his face away from yours as your cock twitched, and he landed next to you — leaning on his arm. You're an ass,” You laughed. Tommy’s smile made butterflies flutter in your stomach as he trailed his finger near your nipple.

“Would you be okay with goin’ somewhere with me? Where we could finish our book series.”

You snicker. “Where? ‘Cause I don't want anyone to hear me moan my sister’s boyfriend's name.” Tommy sits up and stands up, outstretching his arm. You take his gesture and lift yourself from the now-warm floor.

“Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” You chuckle. “Are we taking sepreate showers?”

Tommy scoffs. “Oh hell, no. But I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

You scoff. “Yeah, I find that hard to believe.”

#tommy miller x male reader #tommy miller #gabriel luna x male reader #tommy last of us #gabriel luna #tommy miller smut #gabriel luna smut #forbidden romance #haunted hoedown #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller fic #tommy miller tlou

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weirdfangirly · 1 year

Text

—No Pure Blood

(Part 1)

Dark-Fiction Central ©️

Dark!Dad!Joel / Dark!Uncle!Tommy x Reader

Summery: You don’t want your dad to find out, so you let your uncle fuck you from behind.

⚠️ : Age-Gap (Joel is 53, Tommy 45, Reader 20), Rape, Dub-con, blackmailing, Dark!Joel, father/daughter relationship dynamics (everyone knows Reader to be Joel’s “adoptive daughter”), Reader calls Joel dad, confused Reader (Stockholm-Syndrom), father-figure Joel but messed up, manhandling, Daddy-issues, overprotective/obsessive Joel, manipulation, degradation-kink, throat-fuck/face-fuck, blow-jobs, breeding-kink, cum-eating, misogynistic-views/behaviour, name-calling, Uncle!Tommy (yes, it’s a warning from now on)

A/n: I had trouble giving Joel a title for this fic since he’s readers father-figure, kidnapper, rapist, pseudo-boyfriend—so I decided to just call him dad!joel and move on.

There will definitely be a part 2 because I’m not satisfied with the ending. Please like and reblog and leave me a comment—it will definitely motivate me to ACTUALLY write part 2 down instead of just thinking about it…

————

Joel needed you today.

He needed your juicy little mouth that was always so eager to do and say whatever he wanted.

His heavy balls were resting on your chin, his throbbing cock was sticking out over your face. The mascara ran down your cheeks along with tears, sweat and spit.

Just five seconds ago you were suffocating on his cock, not daring to pull away. Not daring to fight back.

He might as well have killed you then and there, and you still wouldn't have objected.

You respected him too much…or maybe you were confusing respect with fear? After all, he still wore the face of the murderer of your father. Your real father. But that felt like a lifetime ago…

Whenever you tired to think about your beloved father, his face morphed into Joel’s.

“Good girl.”, he praised you for your obedience and you couldn’t help yourself but find comfort in his words.

Joel couldn't decide whether to cum on your pretty face or make you swallow his load. He liked to know you full of his cum.

One day he would get you pregnant, just to see you round and full of him. He wanted to watch you raise his children. After all, your place was right next to him—and a life in Jackson wouldn’t change that. He would make sure of that.

This damn place was full of soft little boys who all grew up in the comfort of a thick fence that kept danger far away from them. They wouldn’t know how to protect you. They were trying to get your attention, running after you like a bunch of dogs. Joel was sick of witnessing it and not being able to do anything about it but to play “overprotective-father”.

He was sick of pretending that you weren’t his bitch.

He would knock you up soon enough. He would make a little mommy out of you and ruin your pretty body for every men out there. He would tell Tommy and the others that a random boy got you pregnant, so that nobody would get suspicious of it.

Poor girl got herself pregnant and dumbed by a random boy at a party while drunk—sounded believable enough. Joel couldn’t let anyone find out that he was fucking his “adoptive daughter“—that would be a fucking scandal.

His brother’s bitch would definitely try to kick his ass out of Jackson and this time she would actually have a good reason to do so...

He tapped your flushed cheek, signalling you to open up for him. You did. You opened your mouth widely, bracing yourself on his thick hairy thighs. He put his cock back in your mouth, it belonged there. You closed your plump lips around him.

“Ya‘gonna take what I give you, alright?”, he mumbled and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You closed your eyes and nodded, knowing what that would mean; its going to be rough and unforgiving.

He pushed his cock deeper and deeper in your mouth, before hitting the barrier of your throat.

You felt so good to him. He let his head fall back, relishing the moment.

You gagged, your eyes sprung open. You looked up at the tall man with big painted eyes that only made him want to fuck you even harder.

He wore nothing but a white undershirt. His broad shoulders and strong arms looked even more intimidating from this perspective. He was so handsome.

You wanted to make him proud.

So you braved yourself mentally, dedicated to not give him a hard time. He started to fuck your throat like it was your cunt, picking up on speed and force. Pushing himself down your throat making you gag and spasm under his hold.

All you could focus on was to not bite him even though every cell in your body was screaming at you to do exactly that. You couldn’t though. Your punishment would be way, way worse than getting used by him like this and he would most certainly not let you go to your friends birthday party tonight…

“Such a pretty fucking slut.”, he hissed, searching after his release that was seemingly hidden somewhere deep down your throat. Thankfully, it didn’t took him a lot of digging to find what he was looking for…

He exploded inside you mouth in such an absurd intensity that his cum leaked down from your nostrils, making you cough and choke around him. He was holding you in place tightly, watching your struggles intensely. Breathing heavy, strong chest falling up and down.

For what felt like minutes to you, there was absolutely no way for you to get fresh air into your system. His cum was blocking your airwaves. This had never happened before.

You were panicking. He wasn’t letting you go.

You just looked too pretty like this.

Eventually though, he let go of you with an animalistic growl, pushing you away from him. Your head hit the wall and you started to cry from what just had happened. Totally overwhelmed.

Like so often, you felt like a used napkin. Trash.

You crawled over to his legs and hugged him, trying to comfort yourself. “I-I c-couldn’t b-breathe.”, you hiccuped and looked up at him.

He was still trying to come down from his high.

„Walking around all day long in that skimpy little skirt, what did you expect would happen?“, he panted. “Told you many times not to dress like a whore.”

“M’sorry.”, you sniffed and whipped your tears away.

He made you let go of him and you immediately felt lost. „M’gonna take a shower now, girl. Wanna join?”

You wished. Joel wasn’t a softy, little things like asking you if you want to take a shower with him were the most he could do.

You shook your head. „I can’t…I’ll be running late to Anna’s birthday party.“

Joel was about to walk upstairs but stopped in his tracks. „Birthday party.“, he repeated like it was a curse-word.

„I-I told you last week.“, you reminded him. „You said yes, dad.“

How many fucking friends do you fucking have? Being invited to some kind of party every other night…

Joel was sick of it. Sick of Jackson. Your place was wherever he was and not at some random parties, or hangouts.

„Did I?“

„Yes.“, you said, truthfully.

„Mh.“, he looked over at you. You were still sitting on the floor in your tight little skirt. Spit and cum drooling down your face. Mascara running down your cheeks and half of your cherry lipstick—that he had gotten for you on his last hunt for supplies—smeared on his cock.

You did good—and good girls get rewards. His own rule. That was their system. That was how Joel got you where you were; confused, obedient and submissive.

He couldn’t let a life in Jackson ruin that. But you did a good job today and therefore you deserved a reward.

Good girls get rewards. Bad girls get punished.

„You remember the rules, girl?, he asked sternly.

„I’ll be home at 9. No entertaining boys. No drugs.“, you repeated like a mantra.

„Which one of them sluts was Anna again?“, he frowned. He could never put a face to the names of your friends, even though a lot of them would spend a lot of time over at their house throwing heart eyes at Joel.

„The one with the black hair and nose piercing.“, you said. “She’s not a slut, dad.”

“Mh.”, he just made and started to walk up the stairs. “If ya ass ain’t home at 9, me and my gun are coming to pick you up.”

“I won’t be late.”, you said, smiling. “Big promise.”

————

You whipped your face clean from Joel’s mess and tried your best to make yourself look presentable again. This was a special night after all…

You changed into a new shirt and applied another cover of lipgloss onto your lips.

You wanted to look your best for him…

It was a dangerous game you were playing—a deadly game even—but it was all too exciting.

Dean Winchester liked you. Really liked you.

He liked you so much that he wasn’t afraid to secretly meet up with Joel fucking Millers girl, risking to be caught. Risking to basically die.

Joel had a reputation in Jackson. Everyone knew about him and what he was capable of.

You had told Dean many times that if he wants to see you, it has to be discreet. Nobody could know about him and you, ever. You had told him that their relationship—no matter what kind of relationship—would mean danger.

For both of you.

Joel would kill Dean in a heartbeat, not even give it a second thought. However the things he would do to you would be much worse, because you had to deal with his outrage and anger for the rest of your life. He would probably start to tie you up again—he used to do that at the beginning, where he couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t try to run away from him.

You didn’t want to go back to that stage of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t want to be tied up to trees, heaters or posts again. You didn’t want him to walk you around on a tight leash again.

“I don’t know if we should see each other again, Dean...”, you whispered.

You weren’t sure if Dean was worth the risk. You didn’t even like Dean that much…You just liked to have the attention that Joel didn’t give you.

It wouldn’t be fair for Dean to get killed just because you were bored…

“Your old man won’t find out, babe.”, Dean said, knowing what you where getting at. He kept on kissing your neck and kneading your tit from under your shirt.

You were at the stables. It was your little hideout. Nobody would be able to find you here.

“But what if he does?”, you asked, voice full of worry. “What then?”

You already knew the answer.

Dean sighed and let go of you.

“He’s not the only one who had to survive out there for a long period of time.”, Dean said, now sounding annoyed. “He thinks of himself as tough, but guess what? So am I. I was part of a Raider-gang. Clickers and runners were the least of my problems. I had to showcase strength and dominance every day in order to not get fucked with. It was like living in a cage full of starving dogs. I know people like Joel and I know how to deal with them-“

Dean saw your big fearful eyes, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. He decided to better shut the fuck up before drying you out too much.

“Babe, don’t worry.”, he softened his voice again. “You are too pretty for that.”

He started to stroke your bare leg, making your skin prickle.

“C’mon let me make you feel real good, ya?”, he whispered in your ear before placing kisses all over your neck. He let his hand vanish under your top again, playing with your nipples. He was a good kisser and as you found out, you really liked being kissed on the neck. He made your eyes roll back.

Joel never kissed you like this. He never kissed you ever.

Dean’s lips eventually found yours, his tongue immediately entering your mouth, dominating your tongue. His hand wandered downside, finding his way between your legs. You jumped a little at the contact.

“You are not wearing panties.”, he realised and couldn’t believe his luck. He smirked into your mouth.

You blushed. Joel always liked it more when you didn’t wear any underwear around the house, so you figured Dean would like it, too. You could find a lot of similarities between them actually. Dean wasn’t like the other boys in Jackson, he was older and more experienced. Maybe you picked him because he was so much like Joel?

Dean was good with guns, good in killing clickers and a survivor. That’s why he got a position as a hunter—just like Joel.

“God, you are such a little tease, babe.”, he said and carefully slipped his finger inside you. You were wet since Joel had face-fucked you and you got nothing in return. Maybe Dean would give you the sweet-release you so desperately wanted. His hands were as skilled has his tongue. He fingered you in such a manner that you were surprised to actually feel your orgasm forming.

“Can you…can you keep kissing my neck, dean?”, you managed to get out without sounding too pathetic. It just felt soo good and it would help you cum.

He liked his name on your tongue like that.

“‘Course, babe.”, he whispered and started to kiss your neck again.

“And-and can you…can you call me…a slut?”, you whispered.

He stopped doing what he was doing.

Was that weird to ask?

You didn’t know. It was certainly normal for Joel to call you that.

You opened your eyes and blushed.

“What?”, he asked, confusion written all over his face.

“Never mind.”, you murmured in shame. You closed your legs and straightened your skirt.

You felt dumb.

“Wait, wait, wait.“ Dean said, not liking what you were doing. “You want me to call you…a slut?”

You nodded, face turning red. There was no point in denying it. Although you thought about acting like that was not what you said.

“That’s whatcha like to hear? You like being degraded like that?”

Joel always called you mean names like that when he was fucking you. At the beginning you didn’t really like it. It was hurtful to be called such nasty names all the time when you already felt bad about what was going on. It made you cry and you asked him to not call you that. You didn’t know what shifted inside you, but at one point you started to like it. It felt like a compliment to you. The only kind of compliments Joel was willing to dish out to you. You liked to be Joel’s slut and you wanted to be Deans too.

“Yes, it’s…it’s hot.”, you simply said.

Dean smiled at you in awe. “Damn, you really are a bombshell trough and through...”

Of course he would call you a slut. Dean was holding back anyways. This whole „boyfriend-act“ was knew to him too. He figured that the rules in Jackson were different than what he was used to outside. The only rule he knew was „take what you want, or someone else will“

However he was not with the raiders anymore. He couldn’t just take you from your father. He needed to make you fall in love with him first and soon he would’ve a cunt to warm his cock again. Dean liked a challenge anyways.

And you definitely were the biggest challenge in town.

“You should work on your compliments, son.”, a voice suddenly appeared from behind.

You jumped up from your spot and turned around. All colour left your face when you came face to face with…

“Uncle Tommy…”, you gulped, nearly choking on your own words. “What-what are you doing here?”

Tommy was standing there, hands casually tucked inside his jacket. A cigarette hanging from his lips.

How long was he standing there?

How much of your conversation did he witnessed?

Oh how embarrassing.

“Hi, sweetheart.”, he said to you and smiled, cigarette dangling between his lips. “Oh, well you know, I like to watch the horses while I smoke.”

He pointed at the stables behind him with his thump.

Oh this was the beginning of the end of your life.

Dean who was still casually sitting on the bench, one foot dangling over his leg and arms outstretched, looked over his shoulder to Tommy and greeted: “Mr Miller. Nice to meet you.”

Judging Deans very relaxed body language and the lack of horror in his face, you couldn’t tell if he realised how bad the situation was for him—and you.

“Nice to see’ya too.”, Tommy replied.

There was a tension building pause between all of you. Tommy was the one breaking the silence.

“You should go home now, son. I put’ya on patrol together with Joel tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the protocols.”, Dean nodded and rose up from the bench to his full height.

“You will definitely need to be well-rested, is what I’m sayin.“, the threat in Tommys sentence was hidden but there.

Dean nodded, in amusement and understanding.

Your worried eyes wandered back and forth between the men. You were close to hyperventilating.

“Yes, it’s late.”, you awkwardly said in hopes to debunk the situation. “I’m tired too.”

Another heavy pause placed itself onto everyone. You looked up at Dean, non-verbally telling him to please play along and just go home. That it wasn’t worth it. He looked down at you and winked, before tuning his attention back to Tommy.

“Good night, babe.”, he said while looking at the older man, provocatively.

Tommy kept his cool. He wasn’t impressed by Dean at all and he most certainly wouldn’t let him ruin this promising night.

“Mr Miller.”, he eventually said and walked away, leaving you alone with Tommy.

Tommy watched Dean wander away. He scoffed and shook his head in amusement. He took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. “What a charmer.”, he murmured more to himself than to you.

He walked around the bench and took a seat, grunting. “If it was up to me,”, he started, “I wouldn’t let that prick anywhere near a gun, but you know, Joel was quite pleased with the way the boy handled himself out there. Skilled. The kid has experience, many people in Jackson don’t.”

You didn’t hear a thing Tommy just said. You heart was beating too loud and too fast, you feared to suffer a heart attack.

“Uncle Tommy, I-I’m…please don’t tell Joel.”, you begged. There was nothing but worry in your eyes.

“Sweetheart, relax.”, he laughed. “I was young once too. You don’t even wanna know what bullshit I pulled behind my parents backs…”

You cracked a little smile at that.

“And, believe me, ya don’t want me to tell you about Joel’s business when he was your age…”

That made you giggle. You couldn’t even picture Joel as a young man.

“Ah, you’re smiling again.”, Tommy pointed at your face proudly. “I like to see that. C’mon sit down next to me.”

“I should go home, uncle Tommy. I have to be home at 9 or else…”

He looked at his wristwatch. “Got planty of time then.”

He was right. You still got half an hour. You nodded and placed yourself next to Tommy.

You met Tommy for the first time here in Jackson. Joel had told you a lot about him during your journey. You warmed up to Tommy almost immediately. At first you were a little sceptical about the man, he looked a lot like Joel. However he was nothing like him—Well, maybe only a tiny-little bit. According to Joel’s many stories, Tommy was pretty badass too. „We used to be a duo“, Joel had told you.

Tommy was definitely more charismatic though. Everyone in Jackson liked him. He was warm and welcoming towards you, immediately accepting you as part of their family.

“You will not tell Joel?”, you asked again, just to make sure.

“Nah.”, Tommy shook his head. “M’sorry for ruining your little date, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “It’s ok, uncle Tommy. I’m not mad at you.”

He smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

He paused for a second before speaking again:

“As your uncle though…I feel like I have to give you the speech.”

“The speech?”, you repeated, not knowing what ‘the speech’ was.

“Yea, the speech.”, Tommy sighed. “He’s your first boyfriend, right?”

You looked at Tommy, unsure what to answer. Dean wasn’t your boyfriend yet—and he probably never would be. Joel was. Was he? No he was your dad.

“Guys like Dean…they mean trouble for girls like you. Gonna take a bite out of your heart before spitting it back out. Ya understand?”

“I…I don’t think so, uncle Tommy…”, you truthfully said.

Tommy leaned back and looked up at the night-sky, thinking of the right words. He turned his attention back at you. “M’tryin to say is, you are a pretty girl. That’s all guys like Dean care about. You give him a bit of yourself and he will expect more and more, until you’re left with nothin more to give. That’s when he gets bored of you and leaves.”

Your eyes widened at Tommys cryptic message. What he was trying to say is “if you let him fuck you, he will not be interested in you any more”—but that would be to harsh for you to hear.

You couldn’t help yourself but think…Will Joel get bored of me too?

You kept quiet, biting your lip. Not sure what to say.

“Maybe I should tell my brother about this, about Dean...”, he suddenly said and making every alarm bell inside your head ring. “That Dean kid is bad blood. Joel should scare him a little, make him understand that he shouldn’t break ya heart.”

You grabbed his arm and frantically shook your head. “No, no, no! Uncle Tommy, please don’t! Joel will kill him.”

“Sounds just about right to me .”, he chuckled.

“No, you don’t understand. He will also punish me. I’m not allowed to see boys. He thinks I’m at Anna’s birthday party. He will be very, very angry with me. I don’t want him to be angry with me. Please you don’t understand, uncle Tommy.”

Tommy was studying your reaction closely. Oh he did understand.

“You really don’t want me to tell him?”, he asked, playing dumb.

“Yes, please don’t. I’ll do anything.”, you nodded. “I’ll bake you the carrot cake you like so much!”

“What if I want something else?”, he asked voice suddenly lower, his eyes darker.

He sounded much more like Joel now.

You frowned, not understanding. “You want me to bake you another cake?”

“Close. I do want something sweet from you.”

“Something sweet?”, you repeated still confused about what exactly he wanted “Like…chocolate?”

“Ya can’t be this dumb, sweetheart...”, Tommy chuckled.

You opened your mouth, but closed it immediately.

Dumb?

Tommy never called you dumb before.

“…Or should I say ‘slut’?”

That answered the question you had earlier; he did indeed heard everything you said to Dean…

You wished to drop dead on the spot, feeling utterly embarrassed.

You seriously didn’t know what to say. You just looked down and swallowed the wave of emotions down that were otherwise going to burst out of you in form of a mental breakdown.

“I’ll go home now.”, you whispered, when you found your strength to speak again. You stayed seated though, not making the move to stand up and go, as if you were waiting for Tommys permission—Something told you that he wouldn’t let you off the hook this easy.

He nodded and made a clicking sound with his tongue.

“I’ll bring you home…after you’ve convinced me not to tell Joel about the fact that his girl begs strange guys to treat her like a common whore. Wonder how he will take that...”

Tommys soft tone didn’t fit his vile words.

You could feel yourself shutting down—this happened a lot at the early stages of being with Joel, after he had brutally killed your father in front of your eyes and forced you to be with him, to act like everything was totally fine. You stared into the void, not willing to acknowledge the level of betrayal you were experiencing right now. He was blackmailing you.

You liked Tommy.

He was one of the good guys.

Tommy looked at you intensely, analysing your soft features. There was a war going on inside your confused little head, he could see.

He had always wondered how you still look this stunning during the end of times while everyone else’s looked like they been through the gutter. Even on the day you and Joel arrived at Jackson for the first time after a year of living in the wilderness that was now the whole country—you still looked like an angel. Joel did a good job of taking care of you, Tommy had to admit.

Tommy admired your devotion towards his older brother. The way you would look up at him, as if he was your god. Always searching for his approval, his affection, his permission. Joel was a cold bastard, leaving you empty and starved.

Or maybe he was just smart really, since you couldn’t get enough of him no matter what.

And when Joel introduced you to him that day, your pretty eyes lit up with excitement. Uncle Tommy, you called him, even though you were not the same blood. You called him that out of respect for Joel.

Tommy wasn’t stupid. He could see right through Joel’s facade of protective-father. Tommy was his brother after all. He could tell that Joel’s liking in you wasn’t of…innocent nature. Quite the opposite. It was much, much darker. He always knew. Your dynamics always seemed a little off to him. Joel hadn’t even looked at another women since he was in Jackson—he had no need to. He had you.

Tommys suspicion was confirmed when one day he saw Joel touching your ass. It was a few month ago at Christmas dinner. You were standing in front of the sink—washing dishes like the little slave you were for Joel—when suddenly he walked up to you, seemingly to bring you more plates to wash, when his hand grabbed a fistful of your soft ass, so tight his knuckles turned white—and you didn’t objected.

At first Tommy was angry. Disgusted even. Joel was like your fucking father. You called him “dad”, for fucks sake. It was disgusting, vile and wrong.

But then Tommy felt stupid for not putting one and one together much earlier. Why else would a guy like Joel take care of a girl that wasn’t even his own blood? What did he get out from feeding another mouth? What was his merit? What could a girl like you possibly give to a man like him that he wasn’t able to get for himself?

The answer was so obvious.

Tommy heaved himself up from the bench and let his eyes wander over the era, looking out for potential witnesses…

“Ya’got two options, sweetheart.”, he started. “First option; we go home and I tell my brother what just happened between you and Mr Bombshell. The kid will die most likely tomorrow on patrol and Joel will not let you out if his eyesight for the rest of your life. Second option…”

He looked down at your bare legs and licked his lips.

“You stand up, turn around and bend over…”

He paused for a second. “S’up to you.”

„Second.“, you whispered, you didn’t even need time to think about your answer—not that you where thinking anything at all right now. Your mind was blank.

There was nothing that Tommy could do to you, that Joel hadn’t already done. You feared Joel more. The answer was easy. Second option.

You hadn’t even realised that you got up, turned around and bend over. Holding onto the back of the bench tightly.

It was only when you felt Tommy lift your skirt up and your bottom was exposed to the cold night and Tommys hungry stare that you realised that there was no turning back.

You couldn’t see what Tommy was doing behind you, and a part of you was thankful for that; at least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

Tommy pulled his cock out. He was hard the second he heard you beg Dean to call you a slut. He gave himself a few pumps and then lined his cock up with your entrance. He wasted no time, immediately ramming all of him inside your juicy cunt.

Dean had worked you up good for him.

The invasion was sudden and forceful. You whined and your knees buckled. You clenched your teeth together.

Tommy started to fuck you the second he was in, leaving your body no time to adjust to his length. He was fucking your hard and fast. He was holding onto your petite shoulders tightly, hurting your flesh and bringing your body down to his in a forceful manner.

The sound of clapping skin was loud and sinful. It sounded so wrong in your ears. And it only got worse when Tommy started to grunt like an animal.

„Shit, girl. Never fucked a cunt as tight as yours.“, he hissed. „Fuck.“

You started to cry. Not because you were in pain, but because you were about to cum…

„Stop please.“, you cried. You didn’t want to cum. Not for Tommy. You didn’t want him to think you enjoyed his assault.

“Your body is betraying you. You like it.”, you remember Joel say to you the first time he took you against your will.

This isn’t normal. I’m not normal. I’m sick. I’m a sick girl.

You started to cry even harder, or were you moaning?It was a mixture of both and it was pathetic. Your were so close. You cunt got even tighter around Tommy. He could feel it.

“You wanna cum little slut?”, he laughed, a nasty dirty laugh. He gave your ass a hard slap.

“No!”, you cried out. “Please stop!”

It wasn’t your fault. You were wet since Joel had fucked your throat earlier today and left you on the ground sexually frustrated. Then there was Dean who had spend minutes fingering you while kissing your neck. It wasn’t because of Tommy.

It’s not because of Tommy.

The more you tried to work against it, the pressure inside you only intensified. You couldn’t hold it out any longer.

You came.

You came around his cock.

First your legs started to shake—it was like a wave—then your whole body. Your thoughts were completely flushed away. Your were biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood on your tongue.

“That’s my girl.”, Tommy praised and kept fucking you hard. “God, you are so hot, sweetheart. I see why Joel keeps you around.”

After you came down from your orgasm you were basically jelly. Without Tommy holding you in place you would be panting on the ground by now. He kept ramming his cock inside you a few more times before pulling out.

He turned you around and manhandled you on your knees.

“Hold your palms out, bitch. C’mon.”, he barked and grabbed your wrist and yanked them up.

You put your palms together and held them up.

He frantically stroked his cock while grunting and growling like a wolf before finally releasing himself inside your hands.

A poodle of your uncles warm, sticky, hot cum could now be found inside your shaking hands. You didn’t dare to drop it. You didn’t move, holding your palms up as if his cum was holy.

The tears had dried on your face. You looked up at Tommy, waiting for him to finally end your suffering.

You wanted to run home.

He put his cock back inside his jeans and pulled out a cigarette. Exhausted.

“Eat it.”, he said and pointed his cigarette at his cum.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you. He wanted to know how well his brother had trained you.

“C’mon, eat it up.”, he repeated when he saw your confused face.

You hesitantly brought your shaking hands closer to your lips. If you had anything in your stomach right now, you would’ve puked it all out. You carefully took a small lick from his cum and cringed a little. It was salty. But soon you found the taste to be familiar. It tasted like Joel’s.

“Be careful not to drop anythin. We don’t want Joel to find cum on you, do we? He might think it belongs to Dean…”

You shook your head and carefully licked your palms clean. Eating your uncles cum.

Tommy watched you intensely. You looked like a little kitten drinking her milk. He was already hard again. He would definitely think about this image of you when he would fuck his wife later tonight.

“Good job, sweetheart.”, he praised you. “Now C’mon. Let’s get’ya home. And you better thing about an excuse why you look like someone had fucked you silly…we don’t want Joel to get suspicious.”

He pointed at you puffy red eyes and ran down mascara.

He helped you up from the ground and you silently followed him home.

————

779 notes · View notes

delta-piscium · 1 year

Text

I wrote this in September and it’s been collecting dust in my docs and staring back at me with judgement whenever I post or write something else so here

“Steve” a familiar voice shouts across the room.

Steve turns around, and there, on the other side of the crowded room is Tommy. It really shouldn’t be as big of a shock to see him as it is. Steve is at a house party on a Friday night, it would have been weirder if Tommy wasn’t here. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to see him, they basically haven’t talked in three years, ever since Steve ‘chose’ Nancy over him and Carol (aka finally dropped them because they were horrible and didn’t drop Nancy because she isn’t).

Still, he plasters on a smile, making it as polite as he can, and waves. Hopes it will be enough but of course, it isn’t. Tommy starts weaving through people, pushing and elbowing his way toward Steve.

“Its been ages,” he says clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “how have you been man.”

Steve resists the urge to shrug his hand off, but it’s a close thing.

“It has.” Steve doesn’t add ‘because you’re an asshole and I hate who I am around you’ and he feels very mature for it. “I’m good.” He very deliberately does not ask Tommy how he’s been.

“Me too, me too.” He responds anyways, at least he finally removes his hand from Steve’s shoulder which makes him relax marginally. “Still dating Nancy?”

And, okay yeah, he and Tommy haven’t really spoken since he and Nancy were still together but Hawkins is a small town and he’s sure Tommy knows that Nancy had both broken up with Steve, gone on to date Jonathan for two years, and recently broken up with him as well. Actually, he thinks he remembers a shower conversation with Billy just days after she dumped him and went off to Murray with Jonathan, a conversation that Tommy was also present for.

“No, we broke up years ago.” He dutifully replies anyways, because what else can he say?

“Yeah, heard she dumped you?”

Steve is gonna remain calm, play along in whatever game Tommy is playing, and not react.

“She did,” he agrees easily.

“And got with Jonathan right after? Should have listened to us and stayed away.” He grins as he speaks, grins as if Steve is gonna agree with him.

“We’re still friends,” Steve shrugs, letting the fall of Tommy’s smile bring one to his own lips.

“Was for the best that we broke up, we’re much better as friends.”

Tommy squints a bit, his hackles raising and Steve only notices because he once knew him so well. Why he’s still getting defensive talking about Nancy Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh Stevie, you still hung up on her huh?”

It’s deliberate, he’s trying to press Steve’s buttons. ‘Well, tough Tommy-boy.’ Steve thinks, ‘those ones don’t work anymore, have been defunct for ages. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want a reaction.’

“Nah,” he says, lets his smile be a bit more genuine when he continues, “she’s great but I’m dating someone else.”

“Rebound?” Tommy whistles, “she hot?”

Why Tommy is convinced Steve is still pining after Nancy he can’t say, or maybe it’s the only angle he has on Steve nowadays? Except they basically lived in each other's pockets all through high school and if Tommy really wants to get under Steve’s skin there are other things, better things. Things he has used against Steve before and seen the effect of. Why he isn’t he using them now when he clearly has some agenda Steve can’t say.

Steve is about to respond, has his mouth open and ready to speak when someone calls his name again. Thankfully this time the source is a lot more pleasant.

Tommy turns around to see who it is, completely exposing his back to Steve. It’s probably the last few years of fighting hell monsters that has ingrained a distrust in Steve. Making him hyper-aware of his surroundings and never willing to leave his back open like this to people he doesn’t trust. He knows this but still, he thinks there should be some primal instinct in Tommy to stop him from making himself so vulnerable to Steve, the action speaks of leftover trust that Steve isn’t ready to face.

“Munson? You know Munson?” He turns back around, an incredulous look on his face.

It snaps Steve out of his thoughts and reminds him Eddie had called for him. He leans to the side, stretching out so he’s visible behind Tommy, catching Eddie’s eye and waving him over.

“I do, yeah.”

Tommy’s face twists into something Steve can’t immediately place. He recognizes it, knows he’s seen Tommy make that face before. It’s not disgust or confusion but maybe something in between? Before he can figure it out it clears.

“Oh, King Steve getting drugs? Who would have thought?”

Steve rolls his eyes, the only reason he had stopped smoking weed for a while in high school was because athletes got tested. Why Tommy is pretending Steve ever had some moral issue with it now is beyond him but not much of this interaction has made sense to him so far so what’s one more thing?

“What Steve doing drugs? He’s a very responsible young man and would never” Eddie says, twisting past the last couple of people.

“Right Stevie? You wouldn’t touch the stuff?” Eddie–knowing very well that Steve would in fact ‘touch the stuff’–asks.

“Not with a ten-foot pole.” Steve–who smoked yesterday–deadpans.

“Knew I could trust in you to stay a good boy.” Eddie coos as he steps into Steve's space and kisses him despite where they are. It’s quick enough that no one who isn’t watching would catch it though and the only one who is watching is Tommy. When Steve looks back at him his face slack with shock.

“Hagan,” Eddie says with a short nod.

“You-?” Tommy looks between them, that same look as before flashing on his face, still just out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve contemplates what he should do for a second but Tommy already saw them kiss, already knows. And honestly, Steve doesn’t really care what he thinks and he knows Tommy won't say anything. Steve has too much dirt on him.

“Oh sorry, Tommy this is my boyfriend.” His voice is deceptively sweet as he introduces Eddie as if that’s what Tommy had been getting at.

Steve turns to Eddie, “baby, you know who Tommy is right?”

He’s laying it on thick, asks despite Eddie greeting him by name two seconds ago. Knows others' unabashed confidence and being on the outside are things Tommy can’t handle.

“I think so,” Eddie plays along, “you were friends once right? Before you found better people?”

It’s mean but Steve wouldn't have thought too much of it if it weren’t for the wounded noise Tommy makes. When Steve looks at him again his face is cracked open and it finally clicks what that expression is.

“Aw, you jealous?” Eddie says in a mocking tone, hitting the nail on the head because that’s exactly what that expression is, jealousy.

It’s the same look he had whenever Steve told him about a new girl, the look he’d have when Steve started bringing Nancy around. It’s deeper though, not only jealousy. He also looks like he did when Steve told him and Carol to leave him alone. He doesn’t just look jealous, Tommy looks heartbroken.

He tries to pull it together, scrunching his nose up in disdain, and scowls at them. Quickly looks away from Steve when their eyes catch and his mask falls a bit, instead focusing on Eddie who raises one eyebrow in response.

“Hardly,” he scoffs, it comes out strained, “I would love to stay and chat but-”

He doesn’t elaborate, just turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

Steve is frozen to the spot, a war going on in his head. Puzzle pieces he didn’t know were missing falling into place.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and starts pulling him outside, away from the party. He gets them in his car and doesn’t try to speak to Steve, probably sensing he’s having some earth-shattering realizations right now.

“He liked me,” he finally manages to say. “That’s why he hated Nancy so much. He was...” he trails off, knows it’s true but can’t quite say it.

“Jealous,” Eddie finishes softly.

“You knew?” Steve asks because Eddie doesn’t sound or look surprised at all.

He shrugs, “I had my suspicions.”

“But how-”

“We looked at you the same,” his smile is wry, self-deprecating, “I recognized it.”

And Steve can’t really process this right now even though he knows it’s true so he grasps at straws, “Carol, he was with Carol?”

Eddie reaches out one arm and cups his face in his hand, glances at him quickly before he looks back at the road with a sad smile.

“If you’re in love with your best friend, your male best friend who you believe is straight, you do what you need to do to push it down, to hide it. Especially in high school and in a small town.”

“In love?” Steve rasps because he’d said ‘like’.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In love.”

Eddie brushes his fingers under Steve’s eye and he realizes it’s because he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know why I'm reacting like this.”

And it’s true, he really doesn’t understand why it feels like a big hole has opened in him. He never liked Tommy, not like that, yet it feels like he’s lost something, fucked something up.

“He used to be your best friend, it’s a big thing to realize.” Eddie parks outside of his trailer, turns to Steve making no move to get out of the car. “Kind of changes everything, or at least puts it in a new context, explains some things.”

Steve feels the blood drain from his face because he’s suddenly remembered something and oh god does it put it in a new fucking context.

“Baby?” Eddie asks when Steve sits frozen again.

“We used to get wasted and make out,” he whispers the words, shame coursing through his veins.

Eddie goes still and Steve rushes the explain.

“Not often and not after he got with Carol, just,” he takes a shallow breath, “It happened a few times. We’d steal my dad's whiskey and get so beyond drunk and, well, kiss a lot.”

He’d smile at the memory if he wasn’t so horrified by it at the moment.

“The first time Tommy had never kissed anyone, asked me to teach him so he wouldn’t fuck it up when it mattered. Then after that it just kind of continued to happen. We’d get drunk, make out, and pretend like nothing. It stopped when he started seeing Carol, he tried but I stopped him. Told him he didn’t need to practice now when he had the real deal. We never talked about or even mentioned it.”

Steve sees Eddie’s arms shake and when he looks up he sees Eddie holding back laughter, eyes filled with barely concealed amusement.

“Are you laughing right now?”

Eddie stops holding back, letting the laughter burst out of him and Steve is so confused because he thought Eddie would be mad at him. He’s not sure why, it’s just that this has been such a deeply buried secret wrapped in shame for years with a big ‘do not talk or even think about it’ sign placed in front of it. That it would be met with laughter was never a possibility.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps through it, “It’s just such a cliche.”

Steve’s confused face only makes Eddie laugh harder. When he calms down he takes Steve's face in both his hands holding him firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Steve, baby, sweetheart. Tommy used the oldest trick in the book on you, asking you to teach him how to kiss and you did it multiple times because what? he needed practice? That’s the flimsiest excuse to gay kiss your best friend and it’s also fucking done, it’s a cliche.”

Steve blinks, realizes that while he never had feelings for Tommy he had definitely found him attractive, had enjoyed kissing him. Had very deliberately not thought too deeply about his or Tommy's motives because that would have made it something he would have had to face.

“Oh,” he says.

Eddie smiles, wide and warm, “yeah, oh.”

“You don’t think I used him?” Steve has to ask, “if he had feelings for me and I didn’t have any for him.”

“No,” Eddie says, “not more than he did you. And you were kids, just messing around and trying to figure yourselves out in a not-very-accommodating world.”

Eddie squints a bit in thought, “though he probably thought you were more on the same page, that you could continue even though he was with Carol. Must have stung to be rejected.”

Steve snorts, “wasn’t really interested in helping anyone cheat, even under all the pretenses.”

“I know.”

Eddie's eyes are soft, looking at him with so much warmth that Steve momentarily forgets what they were talking about until Eddie's mouth twists into a sly grin.

“I can’t believe your first gay experience was with Tommy fucking Hagan.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “at least I didn’t come in my pants ten seconds in, like some people I know.”

Eddie draws back, clutching his chest with his hands, “harsh words, love. It was at least a minute.”

#the amount of times i used the word realize- Steve in this and kylie jenner in 2016 #🤝 realizing so much #listen Tommy being in love with Steve and them kissing as teenager just takes up such a specific part of my brain always #like look at them- they would okay #don't ask me what this is beyond that #Steve and Eddie are assholes together b #but only (mostly) when it's deserved #Dels steddie thoughts #My writing #my post #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #tommy hagan

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lushaletta · 2 days

Text

love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence

summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.

a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes

read the previous parts: one two

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.

You are to be his.

The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.

Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.

“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”

He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.

A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”

He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”

You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.

“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”

Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.

You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.

“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.

He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.

“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”

She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”

“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.

As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.

“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.

The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.

“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”

Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”

He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.

It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.

Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.

“Murphy Atthill.”

He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.

Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.

A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,

But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.

taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle angst #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #dark!tom riddle #tom riddle x reader angst

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cosmic-crybaby · 6 months

Text

Break My Heart Again- Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 1

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, tommy before the war (Lowkey OOC)

She's known Tommy almost all her life. They met one day at the cut when he was ten, trading cigarettes with the other kids, and she was eight, tagging along with her older cousin. It was merely a passing glance, maybe an introduction of names, but she hadn't seen him until years later. At the ripe age of twelve and fourteen, when he defended her when the older boys pulled at her hair and pushed her around. She was forever grateful to him after witnessing him take in three in a fight, punching the daylights out of one, shoving another's head into the mud, and threatening the third. 'If you ever come near her again, I'll fuckin' take your eyes!'. That was enough to scare them off. The two were almost inseparable ever since. Years of growing up together the two would often get into mischief together and cause trouble in the smoky streets of Small Heath. As [name] got a little older, the more she started to fall for the future gangster, and the more time passed, the more she started to change.

And of course, Thomas began to notice.

By the time they were seventeen and fifteen, the two delinquent teenagers seemed to be more than friends. The way Thomas would hold her hand as they run up the grassy hills, the way [name] would stare into his eyes as they lay on the grass under the shaded tree.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Tommy Shelby..." She spoke softly, her voice was like heaven to him. "I can't picture myself beside anyone else," She admitted. Thomas just stared into her eyes, his soft hands rising to brush his knuckles against her cheek, tucking away the pieces of hair that came undone from her clip.

"You don't have to...because I'm going to make a promise to you [name]," He suddenly sat up, causing her to sit up as well and gaze at him in confusion.

"What kind of promise?" She asked, curiously. He opens his mouth to speak then quickly closes it before thinking for a moment. Collecting his words carefully. Clearing his throat so his voice wouldn't crack, because he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from her if that happened.

"That one day, when I have me own money and me own house, we will get married," He finished confidently. She sat there, her lips slightly agape.

"Stop joking around!" She laughed, swatting at his arm, causing him to laugh as well and to catch her hand before she should hit him again. This time both of his hands enveloped hers as he stared at her with a content smile.

"I'm being serious, trust me when I say I want to marry you one day [Name] [Lastname]!" He said, laughter hidden within his words. She thought for a moment then nodded once, reaching for his hand. She kissed the back of his hand, her soft lips were warm upon his skin.

"Okay, promise," She smiled lovingly as he returned the kiss on her hand before bringing her close to kiss her forehead.

"Promise,"

In the years that followed that day, she was by his side, even when he was starting to work at the betting shop with his family. At first, she was just there for moral support, but right when she finished high school Polly saw her potential and how educated she was, and on the spot, she was hired. Checking the maths and records in each book, making sure everything was in its place.

It was a dream being with Tommy at nearly every waking hour. Of course nothing would go beyond holding hands, gently touches, and friendly affection . But even when those were at a minimum, she was falling in love with him.

Her love for him only grew since they first met. It was unconditional love and ever since he made that promise to her, she only fell harder. It almost felt like she was already married to him. With the way he kissed her forehead or cheek, the way he was so kind to her and checked in on her work whenever he needed an escape, and how he would tell her he loved her. Every night after work when he walked her home. He would kiss her knuckles, her cheek, and her lips before saying.

"Goodnight [name], I'll pick you up in the morning, I love you,"

It wasn’t until she began to notice his slow distance from her. At first, she thought nothing of it as he wouldn’t give her as much affection as he normally did. Her hands grew cold as they were empty from his. His touch was slowly detaching from her own. The emotional distance was noticed quickly, but the physical distance made her heart cold. He went from seeing her every day to nearly every other day, now...she was lucky to even catch him at the betting shop. As much as she wanted to convince herself that it was nothing, she couldn’t help the emptiness she suddenly felt. She had wondered what he was so busy with and deep down she had hoped he hadn’t gotten in any more trouble than he already was getting himself into.

The weeks and months went by, her resentment for Tommy only grew. On the days he went to the shop, she tried to make her presence known, nothing but a simple "Hi [name],"would be his response. Sometimes not even making eye contact with her.

One day, in 1914, he approached her in her office. She was too busy organizing files and writing down and calculating the records to make sure they were accurate. She didn't even notice his presence at first. He stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets as he stared at her, waiting for her to pay him any mind.

“I’m busy,” She simply mumbled, seeing him in the peripheral vision of her eyes. He scoffs before stepping in further and closing the door behind him.

“So that’s how you treat me now, eh?” He asked, sitting across from her in a chair. He was met with silence as she kept her eyes glued to the page. “[Name]” He called.

Again, silence.

Tommy suddenly slammed the book shut and grabbed the pen that was in her hand.

“Hey! I'm trying to work, you just made me lose my spot!” She shouts, quickly standing up as the chair behind her scrapped against the wood floor loudly.

Tommy just smirks. She stomp towards him to retrieve the pen back, but the older boy just held it above her head as he extended his arm up, barely just out of her reach.

“Thomas, this isn’t funny!” She pleads. He just laughs.

“There you are, finally acknowledging me,”

She sighed in defeat and set herself back on her feet, holding his gaze with a glare.

“What do you want now? Go on with it, Polly needs these by the end of the day and she’ll have my neck if I don’t have em ready,” She crossed her arms over her chest. Tommy let his arm down, setting the pen on the desk.

“What makes you think I want something?” He asked. Her eyes widened slightly.

“I don’t see you for months and you barely even talk to me let alone look at me whenever you’re here, so this sudden change in behavior is quite a shocking one,” She explained, her tone still stern. She was met with his eyes, a guilty look on his face.

“I know...I know and I do apologize-”

“You were supposed to be my closest friend, Thomas...” She interrupted him. Her voice was calm, almost meek.

“I am your closest friend, never forget that [name],” He held her slumping shoulders. She takes an exhale through her nose.

“Listen to me...I’m sorry, I had some prior engagements that needed my attention,” He said quietly as he tried to get her to look into his eyes.

“I know but I just wished you had just talked to me...I felt so alone,”

Thomas held his breath and clenched his jaw. He couldn’t tell her now...Not yet at least.

“When you’re with me, you’ll never really be alone,” He told her, holding her close. She knew there was some truth to his words but pushed herself away from him.

“I have to get back to work,” She said. He rolls his eyes at her sudden coldness.

“I’m not leaving until I get a smile out of you...and maybe an ‘I love you’,” He smirked, still holding her, his hands on her shoulder blades. She scoffs, giving him a small, ingenuine smile.

“Happy?” She asked. He shook his head. His hands slowly crept to her sides, going unnoticed by her.

“Tommy...” He gave her that look. That look of mischief. “Don’t you dare-” But her warning came too late. His fingers began digging into her sides, it didn’t take long before she began giggling profusely.

“Tommy stop! I can’t- I can’t breath!” She squealed in between fits of laughter as she tried to push his hands away. He was too strong.

“Tell me you love me [name]!” He laughed.

“N-No! Never!” She laughed, the tears in her eyes started to seep down her cheeks.

“Say it [name] and I’ll stop!,”

“Fine! I love you Thomas Shelby!” She gave in. The tickling had stopped, yet she barely caught her breath when Tommy pulled her close and picked her up from the ground and kissed her cheeks.

“I love you too, [name] [lastname],” He said quietly. Looking into his eyes made her even forget why she was upset with him. He looked at her with perfect love in his eyes and a small smile on his lips as he quickly kissed her hand before leaving her to continue your work.

A week later, Tommy had told her the secret he had been keeping from her. Finally letting it out.

“No...Tell me it’s a lie...” She was in denial. Shaking her head as the tears welled up her eyes.

“[Name]-”

“No...”

“[Name] please...listen to me,” He approached.

“Please don’t do this you don’t have to do this!” She cried.

“We have to go, [name]...it’s the only choice,” He calmly stated.

“To put your lives on the line? To leave your family behind to leave me behind?”

The silence was daunting. She sniffled and turned away from him.

“I understand the sacrifice you’re making, but I can’t bare the thought of my life without you...Arthur, John, you...You three have been in me life every day since I was a child, if you were to never come back I don’t know what I would do without you,” She shook her head as she choked up once again.

“Don’t think of it that way, love...We will come back once it’s over...and when it’s over I will come back to you,”

“Tommy...” She felt his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“You will be the one I am living for...who I am looking forward to come home to...” He steps in front of her, grabbing her cheeks in the palm of his hands as they locks eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you,” She whispered. He pressed his forehead to hers. Closing her eyes tightly to stop the tears.

“You won’t...I promise,”

She has always known for Tommy to keep his promises. But deep own she wasn't sure if this was within his control. And it scared her. Shattered her heart and soul to know he was leaving in just a few weeks. Every day after that he spent every moment with her as if it were his last, even though it felt like it to her.

The day the three Shelby brothers left, Polly, Ada, and Martha were in shambles. [Name] tried to stay strong but the second she approached the train station she began to tear up.

She had said your goodbyes to John and Arthur first as she held off her departure from Tommy. She stood in front of him, he seemed to put on a brave face for his family and for her but she could read right through him. He was just as scared as she was. She embraced him tightly.

“I will write to you every day...and pray for you three while you’re gone,” [name] told him. He nods quietly, he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small, simple, ring to held it to her.

“Remember that promise we made when we were kids?” He asked.

“That we’d get married one day?” She nods.

“I am giving this to you, so that when I do return we will get married...That way I will come home with a purpose...to marry you,” He said. She gasped a bit as he slipped the golden band on her ring finger.

“Just promise me you’ll never take it off, for as long as I live and love you,”

“I promise,” She smiled at him. He gave [name] a quick kiss. The train whistle blows.

“Come home to us soon...please,” She begs. He nods again before Arthur and John pulled him away to board the train.

Watching the men wave off their families as the train took off was heartbreaking. The four women of Small Heath held onto each other, comforting each other when they watched the three men in their lives leave on a train. [Name] rested her head on Polly’s shoulder as she rubbed the young girls back, quietly sobbing beside her.

[Name] went home that day, sitting alone as she twirled the ring on her finger, counting the days until his first letter came.

#Spotify #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #x reader #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #tommyshelbyxreader #light angst #friends to lovers

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 7 months

Text

A Brother for Cyril

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader, fluff

733 words; Alfie is tricked into getting you a new dog...and it's all Thomas Shelby's fault.

Warnings: Swearing.

“Now Tommy… what the hell is that?”

“It’s a dog Alfie. A very sweet dog that you will love.”

“You silly boy that is not a dog. That thing is a rat. Cyril, now that’s a dog yeah? That thing is smaller than my boot, and I can’t even see it’s rat face. There’s nothing there. It’s a ball of hair.”

“Well it is a puppy Alfie. And it isn’t a rat, they call it a shi tzu. All the finest ladies have one.”

“...Are you trying to tell me something Tommy?”

Tommy Shelby rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to give you the dog. Lizzie refused to take it and Polly doesn’t want animals in the house. So I thought, ‘Hey. Mrs. Solomons is a beautiful woman, and Alfie could probably use help spoiling his wife.’ You’re welcome Alfie.”

Alfie leaned forward, with an accusing finger twitching at Tommy, “Listen to me yeah? Don’t talk about my wife, in fact don’t even think about Mrs. Solomons alright? That woman is an angel, and there is nothing holy that goes around that twisted little mind of yours. Now, regarding the… thing. I can assure you that Mrs. Solomons will not want -”

“What won’t I want darling?”

Both men have their heads snap to you in the doorway, with a soft smile on your lips, and a curious twinkle in your eye. Alfie quickly looked at the clock, 2 p.m, he should have been home an hour ago for lunch with you. Despite Alfie’s insistence that you don’t come to the office on weekends, even when he was here, he knew that you would always disobey to come fetch him. Before Alfie could say anything to you about going back home with Ollie, Thomas Shelby beat him to the punch, “Alfie was just saying how you will not ever want to be parted with this… adorable little animal.” Thomas held up the small ball of fur, as little whimpers began to emanate from the puppy.

“Oh my goodness Alfie you shouldn’t have! Oh darling he is precious! What a sweet precious baby! Oh now Cyril will have a little brother won’t he! Alfie you spoil me so, thank you so much darling!” You immediately took the little dog into your arms, pressing kisses to the top of it’s head, and the dog nuzzled its small face into your chest, soon falling into comfortable sleep.

Alfie stared at you, mouth agape. For someone who could be so vicious with her words when the occasion called for it, you really babied the animals you came across. You walked behind the desk to kiss Alfie tenderly, “I was so upset that you didn’t come home for lunch, I’m so sorry my love, I didn’t realize that you were picking up such a darling little thing.”

As you kissed his cheek, Thomas Shelby smirked in the face of Alfie’s scowl. Once again, Thomas Shelby had manipulated the situation to his benefit, and now Alfie was left with this… dog. A happy wife too.. But also another dog that Cyril could eat. But how could he say no to you when you were so incandessently happy and kissing him the way you were? “That’s right my darling I was bringing you a gift, and you are most right, Cyril does need a brother to look after, earn his keep yeah? Now my dear, what do you think you’re going to name him?”

“Hmmm, he does look like a Bartholomew to me. And we can call him Barty for short.”

Thomas began to cover his mouth to smother his laughter, a ridiculous name for such a runt. But Alfie just scowled at him, if you gave the name it was perfect, “A wonderful name treacle. Now let’s get home and introduce the boys to each other yeah? Tommy? Get the fuck out, I’m taking my wife home. Ollie!? Get the car we’re going home.”

As Alfie wrapped his arm around you to lead you out with him, you turned your head to look over Alfie’s shoulder at Tommy, “Goodbye Mr. Shelby! See you soon! Give your Aunt Polly my love.”

Tommy tipped his hat with a smile, “Goodbye Mrs. Solomons, a pleasure as always. Enjoy Barty. See you Monday Alfie.”

Alfie just grunted and pulled you closer, wanting to get away from the thorn in his side.

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic

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jamespotterismydaddy · 2 months

Text

Sailor Boy

tom bennett x reader

A/N: i haven't actually watched the show but i had this idea and really wanted to write it

WARNINGS: smut!, tom is a little pushy, size kink (if you squint)

WORD COUNT: 1,416 words

The knock at your window frightens you. Your parents are only two doors down the hall but you can’t imagine who would be climbing up to your window at this ungodly hour.

Then you hear it, his voice.

“Open up, love. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

It can’t be.

You rush to your window, opening it up wide to see Tom Bennett hanging on with a playboy grin on his face.

“Took you long enough.” He teases as he climbs inside. You throw your arms around him right away.

“I didn’t think you’d be back for months!” You exclaim in a whisper-shout. Your father never liked it when Tom was sneaking into your room.

“Well i’m back early, doll. Wanted to surprise you.” He murmurs into your hair as his arms squeeze around your waist. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as having you in his arms.

“That’s why you didn’t respond to my last letter?” You ask. “God, Tommy. You had worried out of my bloody mind.” You look at him with sorrow in your eyes. “I almost let myself think you were dead.”

“I’m sorry to frighten you, love. You know I never meant to, but i’m here now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his two fingers. He clearly means it.

“I never knew how much I needed my best friend.” You say mournfully.

“Thought about you every day when I was gone.” He whispers.

His fingers trail up and down your waist. “I thought about you every day too.”

“I barely got back an hour ago, wanted you to be the first person I saw.” His words make a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Explains the sailor uniform. You clearly haven’t washed it in a while.” You tease.

“You gonna talk to someone who served your country like that? You should be thanking me for my service.” He says with mock self-righteousness.

“Thank you.” You say nonchalantly.

“That's it? I think I deserve a bit more of a reward than that.” He says as a cheeky grin makes its way onto his face.

“What kinda reward are you wanting, soldier boy?” You ask, sensing his innuendo.

“Just a little kiss, doll.” He replies and you roll your eyes before quickly pecking his cheek.

“Happy?”

“I meant on the lips, darling. You knew that.” He lifts your chin up with his hand and brushes his thumb over your soft lips.

“Don’t…” You pull your head away and take a step back. “You know i’m not your girl, Thomas Bennett.” He always knows he’s in trouble when you use his full name like that. He hates when you’re upset with him… but he likes teasing you more.

“I just want one little kiss, then i’ll leave ya alone.” He gives you his best puppy-dog eyes with his baby blues.

“Then go down to the bar and pick a girl there.”

“I don’t wanna go down to the bar when I already got the prettiest girl in England right in front of me.” He places each of his hands on your waist as he gazes down at you.

“You shouldn’t be such a flirt with your closest friend.” You murmur.

“You shouldn’t deny a navy-man his one wish after coming back from war.” He returns.

“We both know you won’t stop at one kiss.”

“I will if that’s what you really want.”

You think on his words for a moment, nibbling on your lip that he’s so desperate to taste.

“One kiss.”

He grins and you before pulling you closer with his strong hands and then lifting one so he can guide your head until your lips meet his. It’s nothing of an innocent peck. No, this kiss is much more. He pushes his tongue past your lips and in your hazy state, you weren’t stopping him. Tom knows he might not get another chance like this so he kisses you with all the passion he can muster, hoping that it keeps you coming back for more… but it all ends too soon when you push him away gently, just enough so he gets the idea.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in a low, almost drowsy tone.

“You promised.”

“I did… but I can tell you wanna kiss me more.” He looks at you with such desire in his eyes.

“I won’t be another notch on your belt, Tommy.” You say firmly.

“A notch on my belt? Is that what you think?” He looks at you, clearly upset. “Do you not know how much you mean to me?”

“You just… sleep with a lot of girls.”

“I don’t only want to sleep with you, love. You’re so much more to me than that. I wanna make you my girl.” He says earnestly, looking you right in the eyes as he speaks.

“But I just thought-”

“Doll, your letters were the only thing keeping me sane when I was away. A girl like you is no one night stand.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Is that why you’ve never let me kiss you before?”

You feel yourself blush even harder. “Yeah.” Your eyes fall to the floor but he lifts your chin back up right away.

“Let me show me how much I love you.”

He waits for a moment until you finally nod. He then closes the space between your lips and kisses you with just as fervour as before. You whine into his mouth as his hands squeeze at your waist and before you know it, one of those hands is sliding up your skirt. You let out a gasp as he begins to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties. You never knew a man could bestow such pleasure.

“Mmm, Tommy.” You whimper out.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He rubs your pearl a little more firmly now. “Why don’t you take those panties off and lie on your bed for me?”

You climb back on your bed quickly and he smirks at your eagerness. You pull your panties off from under your nightgown and he lifts the hem of the garment so he can see your glistening cunny.

“Knew you wanted it.” He smirks before beginning to rub your pearl directly now. As he does, he uses his other hand to free himself from his trousers. His fingers slip inside of you now as he starts stroking his cock.

“I want you, Tommy… all of you.” No other words could have been more perfect for him to hear.

“This is your first time, right?” He asks slowly as he lines up with your entrance.

You nod.

“I’ll be real gentle with you then.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slides in. It does sting ever so slightly but nothing akin to pain even with how big he is.

“You can um… continue.” He laughs when you can’t seem to find the words.

“I’ll take good care of you, doll.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

You’ve never felt anything quite like it before. You’ve pleasured yourself with your fingers before but it’s never felt this good. He seems to hit every spot inside of you that needs attention.

“You feel so good squeezing around me like that.” He praises as he picks up the pace. It feels like he’s fucking into you even deeper now.

“I like it, Tommy.” You whine.

“I knew you would, baby.” He presses fluttering kisses to your neck that contrast very nicely with how he’s pounding into you. He goes back to rubbing your pearl, wanting you to get as close to your peak as he is.

“I think i’m gonna…” You breathe out.

“Do it, darling. Cum for me.” He says and immediately notices how your walls contract around him.

He fucks your hard through your high, until your squirming beneath him, and then finally pulls out to cum on your tummy, just below where your nightgown rests.

“You did such a good job for me. Made me feel so good.” He whispers as he collapses on top of you. You start to run your fingers through his hair. As much as you would like to savour this moment, you know you can’t.

“My parents will be up soon, Tommy. I can’t imagine how they’d react if they saw the state of us right now.”

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles into your chest.

You sigh. “Fine… five more minutes.”

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#tom bennett #tom bennett fluff #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #ewanverse #ewan mitchell

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gremlintheslut · 7 months

Text

Kinktober

Day 7 aphrodisiac & over stimulation

Master list

Warnings aphrodisiac, overstimulation, mommy kink, masterbation oral (m receiving), sub!tommy

Aphrodisiac and overstimulation

Tommy didn’t know what fucking sex chocolate was. So how was he to know that when he found chocolate in your closet that he shouldn’t eat it? It was in a ziplock baggie, unlabeled and his curiosity got the best of him. Tommy was a nosy son of a bitch too. There was no hiding things from him, because he always snooped around no matter how many times he’d been in your room. It was slightly annoying, but oh well. So he had sat on your bed, eating all ten mini chocolate bars, grinning. He figured you hid it from him because you wanted it all to yourself, but he had found it.

That’s what you get for hiding his favorite treat from him.He stuffed the ziplock baggie back into the closet and popped back into your bed, curling up on top of the covers as he awaited your return. As he laid there, he began to feel… odd. A warmth had begun to bubble in his lower stomach. His skin felt hot, like fire almost, and he thought maybe he had gotten sick. But no, he ate chocolate all the time. So what was it?

He sat up, rubbing at his sweaty brunette curls, pushing them off of his sweat slicked forehead as he took a deep breath. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked down to see the very prominent bulge in his jeans. Why was he hard? He didn’t really feel horny? He shrugged it off, figuring it would go away soon enough. But it didn’t go away. It in fact become worse. So much worse that he ached, the confines of his jeans proving uncomfortable against his ever growing erection. What had gotten into him? He checked the time and figured he still had a while before you got home, so why not just rub one out?

Sure, your touch felt so much better than his own, but at this rate he didn’t think he could wait for you to get home, plus he was a bit embarrassed. He shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable as he popped the button on his jeans. A quiet sigh of relief left his lips as some of the pressure lifted. He slid them down just to his knees, hoping this would be quick and he could redress as if nothing happened. Next: the boxers. They were oddly more wet than usual, his cock seeming to seep pre-cum. He usually did produce quite a bit, but this? Yeesh this was extreme. He slid them off, grimacing at the stickiness it left in its wake.

His cock was red, tip dripping and searing hot. Slapping his stomach as it was released from its confines, it twitched, signaling that he really needed to start fucking touching himself before it got worse.Tommy was an impatient person. He wanted what he wanted and he wanted it then and there. Why should he have to wait? So, he spat into his hand before gingerly wrapping it around his engorged length, mouth falling open as a heavy breath fell from them. Your hand would feel much better, but right now his felt pretty fucking good.

A few strokes in had him whining. Tommy was always loud, didn’t matter if he was alone or with you. He always made his pleasure known. He thumbed over the tip, spreading the viscous liquid that seemed to pour from his sensitive cock head. God how he wished you were here right now.

A few more pumps of his rock hard cock had his stomach tensing, lip bitten tightly between his teeth as he struggled to keep his eyes open. It felt so good, but at the same time not enough. He wanted you. Your touch. Your warmth. “Fuck- fuck fuck please-“ he cried into the empty space, bucking into his hand as he got closer to his release.Poor poor boy. Little did he know you had just gotten home, with his Hershey chocolate bar. If he’d just been patient… You called out his name but he was so lost in his pleasure that he hadn’t heard.

He also didn’t hear when you made your way up the stairs to your room, a puzzled looking crossing your face at the quiet mumbled whines and pleas coming from inside. Then it dawned on you. It was Tommy. He was probably too horny to wait for you to get home and was getting himself off.

You decided to watch him for a moment in silence, watching how his hand flew rapidly over his cock, practically squeezing the life out of it as he got right to that edge.He was so far gone that when you fully opened the door and stepped inside, he couldn’t stop. He saw you, but made no move to cover himself up. His cheeks burned red in embarrassment, a drastic difference from the way his hand rubbed over his cock.He looked at you with wide eyes, pleading. He just prayed you wouldn’t stop him.

He wouldn’t be able to handle it, really. It would kill him. You closed the door behind you and took a step towards the bed, seeing how distressed he was. You’d punish him later, but now you saw how much he needed this.

“Cum, Tommy.” Was all you mumbled, all he needed before his hips seized up, head thrown back into the pillow as ropes of hot, white cum spurted from his cock, falling over his chest and hand. You sat beside him on the bed, marveling at just how wrecked he looked. Panting, sweaty and… still hard? Sure, Tommy had good stamina but it always took him at least five minutes to regain an erection after a release.“What the fuck- I- it’s like I wasn’t even horny and then just- BAHM! You’re hard… and it feels different. Like more intense. It’s weird." He mumbles still out of breath

His words made you stifle a laugh and he looked at you with a frown, obviously upset that you were laughing at him. You stood up, walking to your closet and opening it. There it was. The now empty ziplock baggie that once contained your special chocolate. “Tommy please tell me you didn’t eat all of those-“ “I was gonna save you some but it tasted so good- it was fancy chocolate, not like the Hershey bars. I figured you were hogging it from me.” You held up the Hershey bar in your hand. “I got this for you, Tommy. That was for me.”

“Well you shouldn’t have hid it from me. That’s mean, so I ate it. Alllll of it- agh fuck- god my dick hurts-“ he groaned, looking up at you with a pained expression.“Yeah no fucking shit-“ He looked confused.“Tommy you ate all of them… seriously? Oh my god- you’re going to be so sick-“ “Why? Was it poisoned?”

“No! It’s- it’s an aphrodisiac… the chocolate.. oh Jesus-“He began to squirm "You expect me to know what that word means?” “Sex chocolate, Tommy. I got it from a sex store because I wanted to try it with you…you’re not supposed to eat more than one in three hours and no more than four in a day… Tommy, you ate ten of them.” “…oops?”“Do you feel okay?” You asked, voice taking on a worried tone.

“Other than my dick? Yeah I think so. I’m just- really hot- and- mmm can you please touch me? Just a little bit- you can just jerk me off- I’ll take anything.” There it was. The begging already started. How could you say no to him? Part of you wanted to punish him, but it seemed as if he was already punishing himself. He realized his mistake.“So it’s like- when a man takes viagra to get hard?” “Kind of. It enhances things-“ without warning you wrapped your hand around tommy’s poor, hard and dripping dick, causing him to lurch forward.

If he thought his touch felt good, yours felt like heaven. He swore it was the best thing he’d ever experienced.“Can you- s-suck it?” He whined, bucking into your hand. “Please it’s been sooooo long since you’ve given me head- I need it so bad baby-“ the last time you gave him head he had came in your mouth with no warning. You weren’t a fan of his cum, or any really, so you didn’t enjoy it.

“I promise I won’t cum in your mouth-“ he continued “please please pretty please?” He was always so good with his begging that you gave in, leaning down to take the tip into your mouth. You grimaced a bit at the taste of his previous release. Many people liked the taste of cum, but you had just never seen the appeal. Still, you continued down his cock until your nose hit the bush of curls on his groin. Tommy felt like he was having a heart attack. He writhed on the bed, hips bucking into your mouth but then pulling away. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough at the same time. “F-fuck- fuck I’m so sorry for eating that chocolate-“ “I bet you are, baby.”

You popped off his dick to reply before letting your tongue swirl over the tip in a teasing manner. A tear dropped from Tommy’s eye at your teasing. He had never felt this needy or desperate in his entire life. He wanted this to end, but at the same time he didn’t. And all the while a deep ache settled into his stomach. He had taken too much, and it was beginning to border on uncomfortable. He vowed that once this was over, he’d never eat an unlabeled chocolate bar ever ever again. Maybe any chocolate ever for that matter.

Words-1647

I'm bbaaaccckkk!

Thanks for reading love ya-gremlin

#tommy lee smut #tommy lee #motley crue smut #motley Crue #mommy #kinktober #kinktober day 7

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pacifymebby · 1 year

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May I request the peaky boys with a shy reader please<3

Bestie this is a whole vibe of course u can ❤️❤️❤️

Tommy

🌿 Everyone knows Tommy is drawn to outspoken, fierce women, which is why nobody can understand it when he seems to take a liking to you...

🌿You're so quiet and withdrawn that most people don't even notice you, so absolutely no one can understand what Tommy sees in you, least of all you. But actually that's what fascinates him so much. He's a man who can't go anywhere without causing a scene, without being noticed, whereas you seem to be able to slip around like a little waif, hardly there at all, and he finds that mystifying.

🌿Makes him want to hold you tight in his hands so he can be sure you're real. Makes him want to own you so you can't slip away.

🌿 The first few times he addresses you he doesn't get a response, you just look at him like a little deer in the headlights, you blink and blush and he can see that your breath has caught in your throat... that makes his desire for you burn even harsher

🌿 Because you won't speak to him and you seem to run away whenever he tries to speak to you, he doesnt even know what your voice sounds like... He becomes obsessed with the thought of finally hearing his name on your lips.

🌿 He's very careful with you, he likes making you blush but not too much, he doesn't want to scare you away. So he flirts delicately and quietly, he won't try to embarrass you in front of other people.

🌿 "You know love, all those bad things you've heard about me... Well they're not all true. For example, I don't bite."

🌿 He likes the way you look at him from under your lashes, makes him want to hold your cheek in his palm and force those pretty little eyes to meet his.

🌿He sees you one night in the Garrisson, you're standing at the back of the room not far from your friends, but you look lost and overwhelmed... When he stands behind you and slips his hand into yours he makes you jump.

🌿 "You're alright sweetheart, just looked a bit lost... Thought you might need a friend,"

🌿 You bite your lip and look at the ground, you're trying to hide your smile and hoping he can't see how badly you're blushing...

🌿 But you don't let go of his hand, you link your fingers with his. This is how he knows he's won.

🌿 Absolutely won't let anyone tease you, he's extra protective over you because youre so shy. One glance of his steely "I'll fuck you up" glare and anyone who was even thinking about using you for a quick laugh, quickly rethinks their remark.

🌿Doesn't let you hide from him when you're having sex, makes you sit in his lap and holds your face in both his hands so that he can make sure you keep looking at him. Makes you say his name over and over again. Finally he gets to hear you say his name.

🌿 Has a habbit of getting up close to you whenever he talks to you, he'll almost always hold your face in his hands or your chin between his thumb and forefinger to control your gaze and make sure he has your full attention.

🌿 On the rare occassion he sees you shock everyone by standing up for yourself or shooting one of his brothers down with a witty remark he feels a huge swell of pride. He'll watch you with this proud little smirk on his lips and raise his glass to you, "Atta girl..."

🌿 Never lets you stray too far from him, he tells himself its because you need him, youll be scared and lost without him... But its also because he needs you too, he needs to have someone to protect, someone who needs him and looks up to him the way you do.

Alfie

🐻 Adores how shy you are, is actually a little overwhelmed by how endeared he is to you and how quickly he's gone soft for you.

🐻 His first instinct is to protect you, to take you under his wing and shelter you from the big bad world... And also the lustful eyes of other men he knows like how shy you are for the wrong reasons.

🐻 "must be somethin wrong with me like, going soft for a little mouse like you, but you sre a very pretty little mouse right, i reckon right, i reckon i could just eat you up, what do you think y/n, would you like that?"

🐻 You're such a timid little creature that when he says things like that to you all you can do is tremble and nod your head.

🐻 "am afraid youre going to have to use your words little mouse,"

🐻 Loves to get right up in your personal space, likes to touch your face when he's talking to you always stroking your cheek and chin and lips with his thumb, likes the way you only seem to be able to whisper when you speak to him.

🐻 "uhuh..." "see now thats not really a real word is it little mouse," "s.. Sorry i mean yes mr solomans..." "thats a bit formal int it eh Mr Solomans, bit formal between you and me like treacle... How about Aflie to you, or... How about papa,"

🐻 He really only said it to tease you, to see you blush and catch your breath, to watch you chew your cheek or hide behind your hands... So when you oblige he's stunned... He'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling pretty pleased with himself too.

🐻 Actually makes you feel comfortable around him really quickly and revels in being able to see snippets of the real you when you begin to grow in confidence around him.

🐻 But what he loves most is being your protector, letting you hide behind him, or holding you with your back against his chest and closing his coat around you so that youre wrapped up and snug against him. That's where you feel safest and he loves keeping you tucked away, his precious, shy girl.

🐻 Holds your hand in his, keeps you by his side at all times, tucks you under his arm and lets you wrap your arms around his waist.

🐻 Is always really soft and coaxing with you, never raises his voice in front of you, even when he isn't speaking to you. Actually tries not to swear in front of you too but thats quite hard for him lets be honest.

🐻 "now see the only reason i aint shouting bloody murder at you right now treacle is cause there are delicate young women present and i, being a considerate and well mannered gentleman, wouldn't want to upset them you see.... now i know you too, are a considerate and well mannered gentleman at heart so i know you are going to conduct yourself with the highest level of respect... Aren't you treacle... That's it thats it nice and calm and *sighs* ahh yes, quiet..."

🐻 Really enjoys coaxing you out of your shell, especially in the bedroom. When you first sleep together you are so shy and he can tell youre nervous to go on top, he can tell you're self concious too, so he guides you through everything gently, giving you instructions. He loves how pliable you are.

🐻 Brings you out of your shell by showering on the praise thick, especially during sex.

🐻 Has you sit on his lap in his office where he can have a hold on you at all times. He's working on your self confidence slowly, he doesn't want you to lose your sweetness, or the way you blush whenever hes near, but he does want you to be able to stand your ground when it comes to other people.

🐻 Not him though, he always wants to be in charge of his shy little mouse.

🐻 Answers for you when other people who youre too shy to talk to try and speak for you. Orders for you in restsurants/bakeries/bars and cafes.

🐻 Likes it when you read to him, to begin with your voice is quiet and shakey, which although he finds adorable, he wants to help you get more confident.

🐻 You suck your thumb when your nervous, which Alfie adores. When youre alone together and he can see that youre feeling self concious and timid he will slip his own thumb between your lips and cup your face in his hand whilst you suck on it. Sometimes its the only way to get you to hold his gaze.

Arthur

🍂 The idea that Arthur would ever even notice you seems absurd to you. He's always roaring around on one hellbent snow spree after another

🍂 And the women he likes well, lets face it, theyre hardly what you'd call shy

🍂 But youve always been attracted to him, whenever hes in the room you get nervous, you get stuck caught between wanting to gaze at him all night and being scared to meet his eyes.

🍂 And actually, until the night you meet for the first time, Arthur has never noticed you before.

🍂 The first time he sees you he's struck by how pretty you are, by the way you smile so shyly and avert your gaze to the floor whenever someone speaks to you.

🍂 He especially likes the way you twirl with your hair nervously. He cant help but want to cut across the room straight to you, tuck your hair behind your ear and take your little hand in his. He'd say "that's quite enough of that now sweetheart," and you'd do as you were told.

🍂 He'd use his finger beneath your chin to push your gaze up to his.

🍂 What actually happens however is this...

🍂 From across the room he hears a squeal he knows came from you, he'd looked away from you for no more than a second but when he hears the cry he knows instinctively that its you.

🍂 His eyes dart around the room to find you among the crowd and he sees you, your cheeks burning red, hes even concerned he might see the gleen of tears in your eyes as he watches you try to back away from to young lads. He forgets what he was doing immediately and storms through the room to be by your side.

🍂 Completely forgets he doesn't know you and you don't know him, is only interested in making sure those boys know to leave you well alone. Only man who's going to be making you squeal from now on his him.

🍂 When he sends them on their way you turn to him and squeak out a little "thank you mr shelby," and then you try to apologise for ruining his night. As you speak he notices you twisting that lock of hair around your finger and without thinking he takes the strands of hair and tucks them carefully behind your ear before taking your little hand in his.

🍂 "No need to apologise love, you've not ruined anything at all," hes doing his best to be a gentleman. He notices how you can't hold his gaze for very long, how you keep swallowing down nervously, it warms his heart and makes him want to pick you up right then and never put you back down.

🍂 "You pay no mind to little boys like them sweetheart... And no more of that Mr Shelby business, you call me Arthur alright..." what he wants to say is "your arthur"

🍂 Hes not used to delicate, shy girls, youre like a little baby bird to him and hes ever so careful with you. Is on his best behaviour around you because he doesnt want you to be scared of him.

🍂 When people see you together they're so shocked they can't help but stare. It makes you feel self concious but all Arthur will ever say about it is this: "probably wondering what such a good little girl is doing with a bad old man like me... You know what sweetheart I think im going to tell them..."

🍂 Walks down the street with you, one arm around you, the other held out to address the whole world, sometimes he sings it, sometimes he just shouts it but every time he says the same thing "I arthur Shelby am the luckiest man in the world..."

🍂 You blush and get so embarassed but no ammount of telling him to whshht will shut him up and you end up giggling and hiding your face in his shirt.

🍂 Fucks you in front of the mirror and makes you watch yourself so you can see how gorgeous you are. Bends you over and moans all kinds of filth and praise into your ear as he fucks you in front of the mirror. Holds your chin up so that you can't look down.

🍂 "open your eyes y/n want you to see how fucking gorgeous you are... Open your eyes and look at yourself darlin,"

John

🌼 Is too much of a naive little rascal to notice how shy you are at first. Hes a bit too boisterous, flirts too openly and definitely does scare you off at first.

🌼 Well its not that youre scared, its that you are completely and utterly convinced hes taking the piss out of you. You dont believe for s second that he really thinks youre pretty. You think he's just trying to make his friends laugh.

🌼 So you start trying to avoid him. You hope he won't notice that he'll just forget about you but he doesn't. He takes it to heart that youre rejecting him and becomes twice as determined to make you his.

🌼 So he carries on, relentlessly flirting and teasing you. You dont understand how he cant see what hes doing to you.

🌼 It gets so bad that whenever hes near you you become so nervous you think you might faint.

🌼 And then one day you do and of course hes first to sweep in and catch you. Hes so confused, he'd begun to think you might be a little nervous around him but surely not that much? Not enough that you would actually faint?

🌼 When you come round he's still holding you, but now he's carried you somewhere a little quieter and its just the two of you.

🌼 At first you don't realise where you are but when you do you panic. This is so embarrassing!! He's still holding you carefully in his arms so when you try to scramble away he only has to tighten his grip a little to trap you there.

🌼 "eh what're you doin flower calm down... Where are you rushin off to?"

🌼 Youre too shy to speak, absolutely mortified to have wound up in such a situation. You try to scramble free again without answering him and this time he eases up but doesnt let you go.

🌼 You actually beg him to let you go, your face tinged a humiliating shade of pink. You squeeze your eyes shut, your hands balled into fists, its the most embarrassing moment of your life asking him to just let you go already and, when he asks you, "why would i want to do that flower?" and you respond with "so you and your friends can laugh about me obviously..." his jaw hits the floor.

🌼 "you... You think i laugh about you?" he genuinely cant believe what hes hearing, cant believe how stupid hes been and when he looks at you again he realises just how delicate you really are. All this time hes been enjoying teasing you, making you blush and smile shyly, not realising that he was torturing you.

🌼 For a whole minute he is humble, has to explain he was just trying to get your attention, that he just likes seeing your cute little blush.

🌼 From then on he makes sure none of his mates, or in fact anyone gets away with making any kind of remark which might embarrass you or make you feel like youre being laughed at. If anyone tries it theh get a firm reminder about how they are and arent allowed to talk to his girl.

🌼 He will refer to you as "my girl" all the time because no matter how many times he says it your reaction is always the same, you squirm a little awkward because youre desperately trying to hide how happy it makes you, and because it gives you major butterflies.

🌼 Tries to be gentle with you but struggles because he just loves making you squirm, its adorable. Still ends up making flirtacious comments which embarrass you.

🌼 Is always trying to reassure you that hes not winding you up when he calls you beautiful, that he really does think those things about you.

🌼 Holds your hand when youre out with his friends. Is proud to show you off and protective of you too.

🌼 Once a man catcalled you and John forced his head down onto the table and dug the barrel of his gun into his temple daring him to repeat himself. Honestly? No one has said a word to you since and you like it that way.

Bonnie

🍀 For all that he is confident in the ring, Bonnies never been particularly confident when it comes to women.

🍀 However, theres something about how timid and quiet you are which brings out his own confidence. It makes him step up to be everything you need him to be.

🍀 He has a sense of duty to look out for you, to protect you from literally everyone. He notices how you barely say a word to anybody, how you hardly even laugh when people make jokes because youre so adverse to drawing any kind of attention to yourself...

🍀 It makes him a little bit sad to see and so he dedicates all his time outside of Peaky Business and Fighting Business to getting to know you

🍀 Its tricky though, whenever he throws himself down beside you in front of the fire in the evening, you get up and leave. Whenever he tries to sit beside you on the bank of the river, you get up and leave. When he wants to walk with you through the forest you speed up... He almost questions whether its something wrong with him?

🍀 Asks his dad for advice but all his dad really tells him is to be persistent. Reminds him about how you have to wait all summer for an evening primrose to bloom and how even when it does, if you blink youll probably miss it... Tells him to be patient so patient Bonnie is.

🍀 He keeps sitting down beside you, trying to walk with you, talking to you at every opportunity.

🍀 When the other lads tease you he acts as your fierce protector, even though you never once asked him to be.

🍀 Brings you wildflowers every day. Actually serenades you which reallyyy embarrasses you but also makes you blush and giggle, which bonnie finds to be too sweet to ignore, and so is encouraged to sing to you again and again.

🍀 Sits with you by the fire and talks to you about things but doesn't force you to talk back. One night he asks if he can brush your hair for you and you nod, you only manage the word "please" but that's enough for him. He beams back at you and then brushes your hair so carefully. Hes so gentle with you.

🍀 You were always intimidated by him because youd seen his fights and youd seen how cocky he could be, but the more time he spends with you the more you begin to realise hes really quite sweet and gentle.

🍀When you realise just how much you like him you lose your confidence all over again, you cant look at him without blushing, you shake when youre near him.

🍀 "You're cold aren't you, here flower have my jacket..." "No m'fine really don't..." "You're shivering y/n, look," he draws a line along your wrist and his touch gives you goosebumps.

🍀 The first time you kiss youre both really shy, he's blushing almost as much as you are. Its one of those sweet, yearning moments.

🍀 But after that, once he knows youre his, he's always stealing little kisses, always making excuses to touch you.

🍀 Has a habbit of running up behind you and tackling you, bundling you up in his arms so you can't escape. He loves how you laugh and bury your face in his shirt to hide away because hes making you go all shy again.

🍀 Does take great boyish pleasure in torturing you, making you get flustered, sometimes teasing you relentlessly until you very nearly almost cry and he has to wrap you up in his arms and soothe you apogising for taking his joke too far. He doesnt do it often, mostly its just gentle teasing, and you usually get all the cuddles and kisses and sweet things whispered in your ear anyway.

🍀 "Don't go shy on me again little dove, you know you don't need to be nervous with me..."

🍀 When youre so shy youre talking in that whispered barely there voice, he'll hold both your hands and whisper back, he'll talk really soft and quiet with you and then after a little while he'll lean in even closer and say something like "hey y/n... Why are we whispering?" always trying to make you giggle.

🍀 Loves taking care of you, loves to make you laugh so that you feel care free and lose your self conciousness every once in a little while. Always calling you beautiful, always reminding you youre the prettiest girl in the world. Tells you how precious you are ten times a day because he cant stand the thought that you might doubt yourself for even a second.

🍀 You being so shy and delicate brings out his possesive side in the sheets. He likes to go on top, pin you down and fuck you firm and gentle. Pushes his forhead to yours and tells you to look at him, wants to see your eyes when he makes you cum, wants you to hold his gaze when youre cumming together so he can tell you all about how precious and good you are. How youre his sweet girl. Loves that you really flush when he undresses you, loves the self concious flutter of your lashes. Youre like a little doe.

🍀 He has 100% socked numerous boys who have flirted with you and made you uncomfortable, or teased you and embarassed you before. Bonnie is one possesive boy when it comes to his precious girl.

Isaiah

🐀Like John he enjoys teasing you far too much and the more shy you get the worse it gets.

🐀Finds it both funny and adorable how you clam up whenever hes near, how you cant speak. Sometimes hes noticed you actually holding your breath when hes been near you which has quite honestly delighted him.

🐀 He likes how much power he has over you. Enjoys how tortured you seem to be in his presence.

🐀 So he'll purposefully invade your personal space just to admire you struggle. Youre so pretty when you blush and shiver nervously. He thinks its cute that your hands tremble when hes in your proximity.

🐀 And he really, really loves telling you to speak up when youre talking to him. He asks you questions just so he can tell you to speak up. He'll pretend he hasnt heard you even when he has just to torture you...

🐀But its all for a good cause and whenever he gets you alone he turns his charm offensive up to the max. You can't refuse him.. How could you? Youre so attracted to him its embarrassing but its especially embarrassing because youre not just shy, youre naive... You don't actually know what he wants from you

🐀So he has to tell you, plain and simple, he has to spell it out for you

🐀And your face when he does, well, its such a pretty picture he wants to remember it forever, the flush in your cheeks, scarlet, torn between scandalised and curious.

🐀You let him take you under his wing, he calls you his little girl and you are through and through. He won't let anyone else flirt with you, will answer for you... Unless hes trying to torture you, in which case he'll fix you with a mischievous little smile and tease an answer out of you, "well speak up lovely, we're all waiting for your answer..."

🐀In the bedroom hes just as bad, he likes forcing you to tell him what you want, even though its torturous for you, even though it makes you unbearably shy and awkward. He loves watching you struggle and he adores the way your voice trembles when you finally start confessing to him.

🐀And hes not cruel, once you ask him nicely he always gives you what you want.

🐀Always has an arm around your waist, his hand holding your hip when youre in public. People know you're his and that they should be very careful when they talk to you. Because even though he likes to torture you, only hes allowed to.

Michael

☘️ Feels an instinctive need to protect you from Isaiah because that man is relentless when it comes to teasing pretty girls like you who get so flustered and speechless in the presence of men like him.

☘️ Tries to force you out of your shell by being commanding with you.

☘️ "Remember what we agreed love, you look at me when youre talking to me and..." waiting patient but stern for you to finish his sentence like hes already made you repeat for him. "And..." you trail off raising your thumb to your lips to bite the tip nervously.

☘️ Michael taking your hand in his and returning it down to your side. Him holding it there whilst you look up at him wide eyed and still struggling with your words...

☘️ "Come on love I'm getting impatient..." he's so stern with you but only because he wants to help you grow more confident... And also a little bit because he secretly likes to watch you shrink away and shiver at his more demanding ways, "finish your sentence..."

☘️ Rewards you when you finally manage to speak, youre always being smothered in affection when you do well for him.

☘️ "Thats my girl, well done love,"

☘️ Flirts with you in public but only occasionally, most of the time hes too busy playing the protective hero to try and tease you himself... Besides, he likes to think hes a gentleman, the place for that kind of play is in private.

☘️ Speaks on your behalf, orders on your behalf, won't even leave you to say your name to someone who asks for it. He will always talk for you, always step up to cover for you in conversation. Hes loyal like that both because he cares about you and also because he sees you as his delicate little possession who needs preserving.

☘️ Spoils you with gifts, especially dresses, jewelery and lingerie because he enjoys watching you try them on, enjoys making you model them for him because you usually get shy and try to hide yourself from him... And he usually manages to flirt his way into undressing you and exposing you completely.

☘️ Its a vicious cycle which ends with you being completely naked and vulnerable, which makes you all the more shy which makes you all the more vulnerable. Which Michael really fucking loves.

☘️ Will lean in and whisper lewd questions to you in public just to watch you choke on your drink.

☘️ Youre so innocent and he wants to corrupt you bad. He really likes to turn his shy little sweetheart into a needy mess. He too loves to command you in the bedroom, make you perform for him.

☘️ But he also likes to be careful with you, make sure you really do feel comfortable with him and in the end this ends up empowering you to be really vulnerable with him without being scared of him.

☘️ Which leads to some life changing events between the sheets.

#peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy shelby x reader #Arthur shelby x reader #Bonnie gold x reader #Isaiah jesus x reader #John shelby x reader #Alfie solomans x reader

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