#THANK YOU FOR BLESSING MY EYES TOMMY

[cottagecori]

may I offer YOU a wiibo cat in these trying times?

this is the best gift i have ever been given i kneel at the altar of wiibo

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

[watchyourbuck]

The thing about Tommy is that he’s very pretty. Everything about him is intoxicatingly attractive, and no matter where they go, people follow. Men, particularly.

Buck isn’t necessarily the jealous type. He’s had his fair share of protecting ex girlfriends from creeps and dudes who won’t back off, but this is different. This feels like a constant, extremely symptomatic migraine.

Of course girls throw themselves at him, but the mere fact that they have no chance makes it less angering. It’s the studs, and the twinks, and the huge men who put their hands on his man. That cup his ass almost as a greeting gesture. That play with his hair, and whisper in his ear.

And Tommy isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being flirted with, but since he could never have eyes for anyone who isn’t Buck, he doesn’t see the need to be rude. So he keeps it at ‘No, thank you’’s, and polite, refusing smiles. And yes, that’s yet another one of the qualities Buck loves about him. Because he doesn’t like violence. But then again, it fires up the unwavering possessiveness brewing in the pit of his stomach.

So Buck’s gotten creative. Now that they’re officially a couple, and go out on dates every weekend — to different places, if he might add —, he’s had to get handy with the way he lets people know Tommy’s his.

He orders with him at the bar, makes sure to say ‘my boyfriend’ and strategically places his hands on parts of Tommy’s body that would get him punched if they weren’t together. It works, for the most part.

But there’s always that one guy who can’t take a hint.

“You’re like a Greek god,” he whispers and Buck rolls his eyes. “Greek gods shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s a twenty-something year old dude that looks like he’s missing a college class. He’s wearing a tank top and eyeliner and he’s about a second away from earning himself all of Buck’s un-contained rage.

“I’m not alone,” Tommy says, pointing at him, and god bless his heart. “This is my partner.”

Buck bends forward a bit to wave enthusiastically, but it comes out bitchy. He’s almost sorry but then the guy barely acknowledges him, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and rubbing circles on the exposed skin. Tommy’s hand tightens on his hip, keeping him still.

“You know, I’m very flexible,” the guy says and Buck is currently making a deal with god to grant him patience. “I could show you just how much.”

“Oh, you’re not showing him anything,” Buck barks, right from over Tommy’s head. If he has to get on his tippy toes to do that, well, the other guy doesn’t have to know.

“Evan,” Tommy warns, but it’s endearing, it carries no threat. He turns his head to the kid and tilts it. “You should find a guy who’s interested. I’m not.”

Buck absolutely preens, a cocky smirk settling on his face. He’s about to claim victory when he notices the guy’s demeanor doesn’t change, and he actually steps closer. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing, daddy.”

Nope. A surge of something primal and almost maniac courses through his body, and before Tommy can do anything about it, Buck’s rounding him and taking the guy’s wrist and squeezing it. He’s shorter than Tommy but significantly bigger than this kid, so he towers over him easily. “Take your hands off him if you want to keep them.”

The kid’s face contorts in fear. “What’s your problem, dude!”

Buck laughs, his only point of connection to reality being Tommy’s hand on his belt loops, holding him in place. “My problem,” he says, his voice deeper, “is that you can’t seem to take no for an answer. He’s told you he’s not alone. So, back off before I make you.”

His eyes shift from Buck’s to Tommy’s, who Buck can only guess has a soft but unreadable expression on his face. When the kid isn’t defended by Tommy, he snags his hand back, scoffs and takes off.

Buck watches him until he loses him to the crowd, then lets out a big breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns to Tommy, expecting to find judgy or at least annoyed eyes. He doesn’t.

“Not that I wanna encourage you,” Tommy says, sitting on a stool to pull Buck closer, right between his legs. “But that was really hot.”

Buck huffs out a laugh but it’s vaguely one. “I’m just— he wouldn’t stop touching you. You’re, ugh, you’re—!”

Tommy tilts his head, chasing after Buck’s gaze when he looks to the side. “You can say it.”

Buck bites his lip and stares. How could he not, after all. “You’re mine,” de declares, definitive and on the verge of angry. “And I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”

And he knows. There’s a fine line between sexy possessive and psychopathically controlling, and he’s walking it like a rope between two buildings, but the look on Tommy’s face and the unmistakable sight of the front of his pants growing tighter doesn’t help him get off the high horse. “We can always make a scene,” Tommy shrugs, getting up again and cornering Buck against the bar.

Buck’s eyes darken, even through the pain on his tailbone. His arms surge forward to wrap around Tommy’s neck and bring him down. And if they do make a scene, if they do make out messily and desperately for everyone to see, then it’s truly not his problem what they think. As long as they know who Tommy belongs to.

[talaok]

can i request a fic with joel miller? where he marks up readers neck with loads of hickeys and tommy and ellie ask about them?

idk whether joel would be embarrassed or proud lol, like ellie would be horrified or bully him depending on his attitude ig

love your blog!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

It was a beautiful sunny morning in Jackson, the sun was high up in the sky, the stove was working without any issues for once, and as you stood there, bare feet on the floor tiles, eggs frying in the pan... you took a moment to breathe, to enjoy the silence that spread around you... something so simple, and yet impossible to get as of lately.

And just like clockwork, as always, the moment you were starting to relax, the sound of fast-paced footsteps echoed from the hall, as Ellie came down the stairs at full force.

The day that kid didn't wake up with enough energy to power a whole city was gonna be the day the world came to an end.

You remained turned, as she sprinted through the door.

"Good morning" you smiled, turning your head to give her a brief smile, before getting back to the pan.

"Good morning!" She grinned, slightly out of breath as she sat at the kitchen table 

"did you sleep well?"

"I would have slept better if Joel had stopped snoring so loud the whole night"

You couldn't help but snort 

You loved that man with your whole heart... but she kinda had a point on that.

"Count your blessings" you laughed "At least you don't have to sleep next to him"

"Yeah I have no idea how you do that"

"me either" A soft chuckle left your throat

"so what's for breakfast?" 

"eggs" 

You could physically feel the disappointment take over her body.

"what a surprise" she grumbled "Never had those for breakfast before"

"hey!" you gasped, still inevitably smiling "Eggs are good for you, and you should be thankful I'm even cooking you breakfast, kid"

And although you could hear her sigh, the moment you turned, pan in hand to give her her breakfast, that shit-eating, fake grin she'd learned from Joel was plastered on her face, 

but that was only for a moment, because a second after, the smile, together with any type of joy, pretend or not, left her features.

"what happened to your neck?"

You frowned

"What?"

Her eyes were wide, worried, seemingly scared

"Y-your neck, what happened? Did You get hurt? Did someone hurt you? Does Joel kno-"

And only then, only when his name left her mouth did you realize what had happened, did you realize the mistake you'd made this morning.

"No Ellie" you shook your head, putting the pan down to place a gentle hand on her arm "It's... it's nothing, don't worry"

She shoved your hand away with a quick move as she argued

"What do you mean don't worry, your whole neck's red y/n! What happened?!"

"Nothing Ellie, I promise" A soft laugh threatened to spill from your lips as you tried to calm her down, but the girl resisted as she stood up suddenly, the chair screeching at the movement

"Why don't you wanna tell me what happened? I'm not a kid, I wanna know who did this to you!"

"Ellie, I-"

And just then, heavy footsteps entered the room.

"What's with all the screaming?"

Joel's disheveled self had joined the party, looking every bit of tired as he was.

He passed a hand through his messy hair, groaning lowly before his gaze settled on you and then on Ellie.

Ellie scoffed as her eyes widened even more

"Are you serious!?" she almost shouted, clearly done with the both of you "Are you blind? Something obviously happened to y/n e she doesn't wanna tell me what it is!"

You watched as every bit of sleep left his body, now tense and alert as he always was when danger was near

"What happened to you?"

But before Ellie could intervene and get even madder, you shut them both off as you rolled your eyes at Joel.

"My neck Joel" you explained, raising your brows "Ellie wants to know what happened to my neck, and since it's your doing... I'm gonna let you handle this"

And with one simple sentence, both their attitudes had changed 

You watched as the realization hit Joel, and then a moment later as the other realization hit

Your neck.

your neck was red and bruised,

and he knew why

Of course he knew why... he was why

"what do you mean it's his doing-"

Ellie's face was creased in puzzlement, but all you did was turn to Joel, waiting for him to dig himself out of the grave he'd dug.

"Ellie- I-" a heavy sigh fled his mouth as he shot you a -why do I have to do this- look, although he knew damn well why... mr "just one more".

"what, what happened?"

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to hold the kid's gaze

"Well, Ellie" you didn't miss the way his voice cracked the tiniest bit in the middle "Y/n's neck is red because..." his expecting eyes traveled to you again

"Because?" Ellie asked, impatient.

"because well, Ellie when..." you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed the sand in his mouth 

Funny how you'd seen this man do things that would make the average man piss his pants, without a hint of dread, and this was the most you'd seen him scared.

"Well, it's that... when-" he cleared his throat again, as his hand went to scratch the inexistent itch at the back of his neck "when- uhm- two adults love each other very much they... well they do-"

And thanks to some god somewhere Ellie stopped him before he could end the sentence

"Oh my god-stop!" she moaned, looking ready to throw up"I know what sex is Joel!"she gagged, looking between you two "So is-is that why your neck's..."

You only needed to give her a slight nod before another agonizing groan left her mouth "Oh my god-" her face contorted into a frown "that's - disgusting, you didn't have to tell me that!"

"You said you wanted to"

"yeah well I take it back!"

And even though you tried to stop her, calling for her, she had bolted out of the room before you could do anything, bumping into a figure as she did.

"woh" Tommy breathed, frowning as the kid flew past him, having let himself into your home once again

"what happened? Why is Ellie-" he asked, his brows pulled together in puzzlement, before they creased even more "Wait what happened to your neck?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly 

"That's what happened to Ellie" you breathed, still smiling "Your brother got a little too carried away last night"

You watched Joel roll his eyes as Tommy laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd heard in days

"'s that right?" he joked, throwing his brother a smug grin "And you tried explaining her just now, didn't you?"

"yeah" Joel grunted, waiting before Tommy inevitably laughed again, this time even going as far as throwing his head back.

"it ain't that funny" he argued, sighing loudly as he walked to you

"No, no you're right, You explainin' to a little girl about sex ain't funny at all" he snorted, laughing even louder somehow.

The moment he finished his little scene, you were both looking at him annoyedly, although a spark of amusement still ignited your eyes.

"alright, alright, I'll go talk to her" he held his hands up in defeat, "just leave me some of those eggs, 'm hungry" 

And that's all he said, before he was out of the room, leaving you and Joel alone

"Just one more huh?" you smiled, looking up at him, "my whole neck's red"

"why didn't you cover it?" he asked, which, to be honest, was a legitimate question, you always did cover it whenever something like this happened... which were more times than you liked to admit.

"Ah so now's my fault?" you cocked an eyebrow

"c'mon now, sweetheart, you mark me too" he argued

"yeah but where no one can see, baby"

And at that a lascivious smirk appeared on his lips as he gripped your waist "mmmh what can I do?" he breathed, his mouth hovering over your lips just to get lower to the reddened skin of your neck "i just can't help myself when I see this pretty neck"

And then once again, he was kissing it, softly starting to focus more just underneath your left ear

"Joel..." you whimpered

"what?"

"are you serious?" you chuckled, clinging to his arms 

"one more can't hurt at this point darlin'..."

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Blessing

Pairing- Ao'nung x Sully!reader

Summary- You are the twin sister of Lo'ak who is the complete opposite of each other, and when you move with the Metkayina you caught someones eye.

A/N- This was a request

You are the complete opposite of your twin brother, his was rambunctious you were always calm, he was rebellious you were obedient somewhat. He wanted to fight you wanted to collect plants make medicine help to heal people. But somehow you fit each other just right, he was your best friend as you were his.

One time Lo'ak got into major trouble and at communal dinner someone made a joke calling you "the better twin." And it irked you to the bone. "That's not funny." You would say before returning to your previous conversation. And with all of this your father was very protective sometimes you think it's because he sees your Uncle Tommy in you doesn't wanna lose you how he lost Tommy, he never does talk about your uncle but you can just feel it.

When you had to move to the Metkayina clan it was hard but you tried your best to be happy. And when you got there it was nothing like you expected. They said you had demon blood, that hurt but you deflected it as much as you could. And then there was Ao'nung, when he first saw you he thought that his heart was going to explode in his chest your beauty was undeniable. But he was a big teaser at you and your siblings but his sister smacked some sense into him.

He would leave flirty remarks, "Looking good Y/N." When you would swim or, "How's my favorite forest girly doing." He would say or your personal favorite, "Pretty girl." and you would just reply kindly, with a "Thank you Ao'nung." Or a small, "I am fine how are you." and that just wrapped him into your love spell deeper.

Then he started to help you with things, even when you didn't need it. He just wanted a reason to be close with you. You thought he was just being helpful, but sometimes you couldn't help but get butterflies in your stomach when his hand would graze yours when lifting something into the docks, or when he addressed you as pretty girl and it drove you insane.

And now he here he was looking at his reflection making sure his hair was right before he went to talk to your father, Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto. Hell yeah he was scared but it would all be worth it. He walked into your families mauri only Jake was there sharpening his dagger. Ao'nung gulped a wad of saliva. His palms were sweaty and sweat threatened to spill all over his body.

He took a deep breath composing himself. "Hello Jake." Ao'nung spoke bringing his fingers from his forehead outward towards Jake as a sign of respect. "Ao'nung." Jake spoke suspiciously. "If you are looking for any of my kids I do not know except Y/N she's out collecting pearls for her little sister." He said sighing afterwards.

"No sir I just came to ask you something important." Ao'nung said Jake stood up at the seriousness in the younger males voice. "Yes of course what is it." Jake said. "I would like to ask for your blessing to court your daughter." Ao'nung spoke quickly and swiftly. And it seemed all the color drained from Jake's face. "M-my d-daughter Kiri?!?" Jake said running his hands over his face distraught. "No! Not Kiri, Y/N." Ao'nung corrected the male.

Jake turns to him, protective dad overload. And just before he could speak you walked in. "Hello fathe- Ao'nung, hey." You say indigo painting your face as Ao'nung says hello doing the forehead motion to you as he did to Jake, but Jake could tell he was flirting, right in front of him!

Jake looks at the interaction dread filling him. "What are you doing here?" You ask softly putting a bag filled with pearls down looking at him. "Oh I was just asking your father," Ao'nung took a deep breath once again before telling him he was asking for your father blessing. "His blessing to court you." He said turning back to his father.

A sense of excitement and happiness could be felt anyone in a ten foot radius of you. You looked at your father huge smile plastered on your face shaking your head up and down, yes. Your father took one deep breath and closed his eyes before he spoke, "Yes, you have my blessing." Jake said and Ao'nung turned to you and gave you a smile just as big as yours. "But," your dad said making you turn your attention to him. "You don't go anywhere alone I was a teenager not long ago I know what's going through that pea sized brain and I am not, repeat not having a baby under this roof, so help me god I will kill yo-" "Dad!" You yell stopping the threats being thrown at a shocked Ao'nung.

Oh and, when your brothers found out you were being courted all hell broke loose. "How could you let my baby sister be courted but that fish boy!" Neteyam spoke. "I am not a baby." You say as you finish separating fruits as your mother instructed you to. "I refuse to be brothers with that fish." Lo'ak said shaking his head. "I'm not happy about it either but if he makes her happy then let it be." Your father said to them. "Oh you are acting like children." You say throwing a price of fruit at your father.

[hllywdwhre]

Long Time Coming

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: When each of the family members noticed you and Tommy falling for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of heroin (talks about how Tommy used it and the Chinese selling it - nothing graphic, only mentions), let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: THANK YOU for all the love on Revenge! After many comments and requests asking for more of the pairing, I decided to delve deeper into the development of Tommy and her’s relationship. Up next is moments reader and Tommy fell for each other!

Can technically be read as a stand-alone, but is meant to pair with this Tommy fic I wrote.

Polly

Polly was the second to catch on. She knows her nephew far too well to not notice the small changes. Grace’s death changed something deep inside of Tommy and she didn’t think she’d ever see the day when Tommy, not only fell in love but allowed himself to love again.

Then you came along.

He started smiling more and drinking less. You got him to stop using dope to self-medicate. He also didn’t look nearly as tired.

She always said Tommy had his mother’s smile when he truly smiled, and it had been a long time since Polly had seen her sister’s smile on his face. You made a sarcastic comment in the private booth at The Garrison once though and there it was.

She noticed you falling for him when you came to her with way too much anxiety over an innocent, and adorable, request.

You were picking at your nails as you sat on her sofa while she lit a candle in her living room,

“Tommy mentioned you were the only one who had ever been able to replicate his mother’s raspberry tart recipe. I was wondering if there was any way you could teach me to make them?”

Polly froze for a moment, surprised at the request given your anxious state. It was then that she realized why you were so nervous. Even if you hadn’t realized it, you were falling for Tommy.

You two spent the rest of the day in her kitchen perfecting the recipe.

Arthur

Arthur, bless him, can be pretty blind when it comes to romance. Like. Really blind. Lust? He can spot it a mile away. Hell, he was the first to notice that you and Tommy were sleeping together. But love? Gods help him.

It took until you killed Sabini for him to notice the two of you were in love.

The next day neither you nor Tommy wanted to leave your bed, but an emergency family meeting with the Shelbys and your father had been called because of your actions.

When you told everyone what you had done, Arthur was the first to break the shocked silence.

“Why the bloody ‘ell would you ‘ave done that?” He’d shouted in a mix of shock and anger.

“He’s been intimidating my father and me for over a year now, and then yesterday I learned what he had done to you lot… My anger got the best of me and I was tired of him,” you’d replied with a deep crimson blush spreading across your face.

The rest of the family and your father wore knowing smirks at your explanation, but you could see the moment it all clicked in Arthur’s eyes. His smirk spread across his face and his tone went from shocked and angry, to proud.

“Well, love, remind me not to piss you off.”

John

Since he’d had an arranged marriage of his own, John knew better than most what you and Tommy were going through. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Tommy had actually come to John for advice before the wedding on how to help things go more smoothly and make sure that you were comfortable.

After a couple of months of being married, John had gotten Tommy alone and checked in on how he and you were doing. It was when Tommy had seemed surprised that things were going so well that John noticed his brother was becoming fond of you. He didn’t question Tommy on how he felt, he knew better than to think his brother would spill his heart to him, but he could see that Tommy felt something for you.

Esme & Ada

Once again, since Esme’s own marriage into the Shelby family was an arranged one, she went out of her way to make you feel included and make sure you knew that she was an open, non-judgmental, and private ear you could turn to.

Ada walked in on you and Esme having a more vulnerable conversation when you were first married and you and Esme both immediately changed the topic. When Ada later asked Esme in private what the two of you had been discussing, Esme answered as honestly as she could without giving away details.

”I know what she’s going through, to an extent. I got lucky with how quickly I was accepted since John and I immediately clicked. Not to mention the way I saw every inch of you on our wedding night,” Esme said, both her and Ada laughing lightly at the memory of Esme not seeing her own husband naked on their wedding night, but instead his sister as she gave birth to Karl.

After that, Ada made sure to include you in any shopping trips she went on and opened her house in London to you in case you ever needed to get away.

”I know how my brother is. He can be a right twat when he wants to be. Just let me know if you ever need an escape. We’ll call it a girl’s night.”

The two women noticed you falling for Tommy when you were included in one of the shopping trips and they asked how things were going. You’d tried to brush the question off far too quickly, and when they couldn’t pry out of you that anything bad had happened, they quickly pieced together that you were catching feelings.

Michael

Michael noticed as Tommy’s jealousy and protectiveness over you grew. The Shelby family knew you were capable of handling your own, but that didn’t mean Tommy wasn’t going to be protective. Especially after Grace.

Michael watched the way Tommy went from simply glaring at any men who tried flirting with you, to approaching the men and wrapping his arm around you while questioning whatever unfortunate man had angered him if "he had spotted the ring on your finger and was simply stupid, or if he was blind."

Jealousy was what gave it away for Michael.

Finn

Finn noticed after a particularly dangerous job involving you didn’t go according to plan. You and Finn were the only two who wouldn’t be immediately recognized, so it was up to you two to find out if the Chinese had been selling heroin even after Tommy had threatened them with a bomb.

The two of you had been separated and you hadn’t returned yet when Finn made his way to the betting shop where everyone was waiting.

Tommy’s rage when Finn dared show up without you was something Finn never wanted to be on the receiving end of again.

Charlie

Charlie was the first to notice. Granted he didn’t realize what he was seeing, but he had noticed.

You had convinced Tommy to build a stable at The Arrow House. He, Charlie, and you all loved horses, and it would be a fun way for you and Charlie to bond.

Tommy was away on business and you and Charlie had decided to take the horses for a ride. Charlie sat in front of you and you were letting him guide the horse as he hammered you with various questions about the world.

“Why do horses eat grass? Where do horses come from? Why can’t they eat human food?”

It was during this conversation that he pointed out that Tommy liked you.

“When will Daddy be back?” Charlie asked you.

“In two more days. He’s handling some business in London,” you answered easily.

“I miss him,” he said wistfully.

“I’m sure he misses you, too,” you reassured, “but he has to work so we can have our house and horses,” you told him, hoping to comfort the child some more.

“Do you miss him?” Charlie questioned, turning his head to look up at you.

“I do,” you answered easily. It wasn’t a lie.

By this point, you had grown to care for Tommy. You thought it was only as a friend and nothing more, but Charlie seemed to notice it was something different. You and Tommy didn’t feel the need to explain to Charlie what an arranged marriage was. The two of you had talked about how you were going to explain your marriage to Charlie, and you had both come up with a way to explain it to him without potentially causing any insecurities in the child or exposing him to what an arranged marriage was. It was a delicate balance of lies and truth, but neither of you wanted to tell Charlie “Well, sometimes marriage isn’t love, it’s business.” He was going to deal with enough at the truth of his mother’s death, and neither of you felt it was necessary to add a potential insecurity about whether the new mother figure in his life actually cared for him.

“He misses you, too,” Charlie said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you looked down at him,

“I’d hope so since we’re married, but what makes you say that?” You were still walking that delicate line of truth and lies, but his comment had piqued your interest.

“He watches you a lot and smiles a lot.”

His simple explanation could easily be explained away and you explained it away internally, but Charlie had noticed what you and Tommy hadn’t noticed yet.

Alfie

Alfie and you had always had a cheeky and joking relationship. You got on like old school friends more than sometimes-ally-sometimes-pain-in-the-ass.

However, when Tommy and you came to him to see if you could rally his support in the inevitable war that was going to break out with Sabini’s men, he noticed the dynamic had changed. Typically meetings with Alfie were tense with the atmosphere only broken by your sarcastic comments and Alfie’s borderline flirting with you.

Alfie was taken aback when you shot down his flirting and Tommy sent a glare his way.

He recovered quickly though and soon went on to teasing the two of you about your “newfound happiness”.

”Was wondering when the two of you were going to pull your heads out of your asses and smell the roses.”

[itgetsdark-x]

He Who Hides In the Shadows

Summary: You loved Tommy Miller, of course you did; he was the perfect gentleman. He was kind, he was generous and he was easy on the eyes. It’s just… he wasn’t Joel Miller. Loosely based on the idea from a lovely anon ask (here).

Warnings: 18+, MDNI plssss!! Public sex, age gap (unspecified but Joel would be mid forties, reader in twenties), unprotected p in v (do better & wrap it), mild degrading, use of ‘daddy’, breeding kink (ish), mentions of voyeurism, cheating, dark!Joel themes.

Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader, mentions of Tommy Miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Life in Jackson was good, well, as good as life could be given the state of the world; it almost had a familiar sense of old times and a safeness you had craved for years. 

You first stumbled into the gates of Jackson around fourteen months ago, you had been shot in the thigh by a raider and had managed to stumble your way to safety; everyone was hesitant to allow you through and into their safe haven, and you understood it. 

The citizens were kind enough to tend to your wounds, dress them and feed you; you ate properly for the first time in months. You looked at your surroundings, the warm interior of the communal canteen as a kind woman explained the ways of living in Jackson. 

That’s where you saw him for the first time… he was tall, broad and so rugged; he had brown hair with soft white hairs peppered through the gentle locks and he had the most intense brown eyes, they were dark and so much pain swam in them that it made you want to reach out and hold him. He locked eyes with you and you felt as if your surroundings blurred together, all you could focus on was this nameless man. 

“Joel Miller.” The lady sat opposite of you announced. “He’s… a troubled man, older brother of Tommy Miller.” She informed you with a soft smile. 

“Oh, I, I wasn’t staring.” You mumbled as you shovelled food into your mouth quickly, returning your gaze back to your plate of food. 

“It’s okay, hon, a lot of women tend to stare at the Miller brothers. Just human nature, some things never change, even during the apocalypse.” She laughed. 

You made a small noise, it sounded alien to you and then you realised it was a laugh; it wasn’t a noise you had made in years. 

“Anyway, I’ve got you a small one bedroom house on one of the quieter streets; it’s been unoccupied for a few years but should be fine, the water runs hot and there’s electricity too. I’m on the next street over so please feel free to come over and spend some time with me and Jacob, my husband. My name is Lara.” She pushed another plate of food over to you and you looked up at her with thankful eyes. 

“This place is fucking amazing.” You cursed, tucking into the next lot of food. “I mean, sorry. Thank you, y’all have been so nice to me already.” 

“I understand, we are definitely blessed in this community.” She smiled, watching you eat up the food before you. “Anyway, hon, I should get going. I’ve got a shift to work in the kitchen, ready for the evening rush. If you need anything at all, you come and find me. Don’t worry about helping out just yet, you heal up and get yourself right.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, the gesture felt foreign, you had spent so many months alone that you couldn’t even recognise what it felt like to feel a small glimmer of hope and joy. 

Lara left you in peace, she squeezed your shoulder before she walked off. You looked around at your surroundings once again, Joel was no longer stood in his previous place but instead he was sat at a table opposite yours, next to him was another handsome male. You could notice the similarities between the two of them but this younger male was much softer in appearance, his features weren’t hardened by pain and roughness. 

The younger of the Miller men caught your gaze, he smirked at you, noticing your blushing cheeks and within seconds he was closing the distance between you both. 

“Well aren’t you pretty, not seen you around here before. I’m Tommy Miller, pleasure to meet you.” He said softly, outstretching his hand to shake yours. 

You shook his hand and introduced yourself by your name.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you around here, darlin’.” He said before tipping his hat and going back to sit with his brother. 

The rest, they say, is history. Your relationship with Tommy had been a whirlwind, you kept finding reasons to bump into the younger Miller and eventually, he got the hint and asked you out on a date. You and Tommy had been together for about a year now and it felt like a dream.��

You were in a domesticated bliss, you lived with him in his house that he shared with Joel but you didn’t have much involvement with the older Miller male. He kept his distance and things between you always felt icy; you understood why, he had been through so much loss in his life and Tommy assured you he was the same with everyone, which was somewhat true. 

-

You were stood in the kitchen, washing dishes from the day before, humming to yourself when you heard the door click open from the front of the house. You assumed it was Tommy, back home after his shift patrolling. 

“Hi honey, I’m just doing dishes. I was thinking maybe we could spend a little time together before Joel gets home; I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating, this is gonna be our month. I can feel it.” You giggled, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you walked through the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks when you were greeted with the sight of a sweaty Joel. 

He looked at you with a raised brow before he kicked his boots off.

“Well, there’s an offer.” He laughed dryly, his lustful eyes drinking in your body. 

You pulled your arms around yourself awkwardly and cleared your throat. 

“I obviously thought you were Tommy.” You huffed.

“Obviously.” He smirked. “‘M gonna go take a shower and head out for the evening anyway.” He shrugged and with that, he stomped up the creaking staircase to the bathroom. 

You rolled your eyes as Joel disappeared upstairs. You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for a few months now, you knew it was relatively soon into your relationship but when the world made no sense anymore, this made perfect sense to you both. You loved him so much and he loved you just the same, it made sense that you wanted to create your own little bundle of joy to share your love with.  

You finished up the dishes and wandered upstairs to lie down for a while and wait for Tommy to return home. You passed by the unoccupied bathroom and found yourself standing outside of Joel’s bedroom, you lingered by it for a second; you were unsure what you were waiting for but you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from the spot. 

His door was cracked open and something inside of you told you to look in. You sucked in a deep breath and your hands shook by your sides as you watched on. Joel’s back was turned to you, he was naked and although you couldn’t see his front, you knew what he was doing; his shoulder jerked rhythmically and you could hear his soft grunts as his arm sped up. You swallowed down the gasp you were holding in, you knew you should turn away and leave him in peace but you couldn’t help but continue to stare on. 

Your heartbeat threatened to burst right out of your chest, you could feel your blood thrumming through your veins as adrenaline coursed through every inch of you.

Joel grunted softly as he fucked his fist, he knew he was close to cumming and he tried to stay quiet but he couldn’t. He groaned out and then it happened, your name came rumbling out of his mouth like a forbidden curse. 

You went to walk away but the floorboards beneath your feet betrayed you, a loud creak erupted the silence and you stood there like a deer in headlights, your eyes were panicked and wide. Joel turned to face the door; his chest was heaving and you could see him now, his hard cock glistening with beads of precum as his fist held the base. Your mouth fell agape, wrapped around his member was a pair of your panties; it was evident to see, there was no mistaking the stolen garment belonged to you. 

Joel smirked at you, his cock jumped with arousal and he continued to stroke himself, only this time, his eyes were locked with yours as you gently nudged the door open a little more. He pumped himself roughly and brought a single finger up to his lips to shush you from speaking before he grunted loudly and spilled his hot seed all over your stolen panties. 

You were ripped from your trance when you heard the front door unlock once again, and you knew for sure this time that it was your boyfriend returning home. 

You walked away, your cheeks were burning and you felt ashamed. Why? Why did you feel ashamed? Joel was the one who stole your underwear and used it as ammunition to jerk off. It was confusing to you, Joel always seemed so distant with you, so cold and you just assumed he hated you, like he hated most people. 

“Hi baby!” You smiled, greeting your boyfriend at the door. 

“Hi honey.” He smiled back, he went down to undo his boots but you were on him in a flash. 

You pressed his body against the front door roughly and pressed your lips to his to capture him in a deep kiss, your hands snuck under his shirt and started to peel the layer of clothing off of him. 

“Hm, what’s got into you?” He chuckled lowly, lifting his arms so you could take his top layers off. 

“Ovulating,” you mumbled against his lips, deepening the kiss again as your fingers lightly scratched down his torso. “And you drive me crazy, need you.” You whispered. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and lead him to your bedroom without further distractions. That night, as Tommy made love to you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the older Miller brother and what you had seen. 

—

That eventful day was three weeks ago, since that moment you had noticed the tension between you and Joel had become so thick and unbearable that anytime you shared a space with the male, you struggled to suck in a breath. You felt guilty for having watched him, you felt even guiltier that it made your panties wetter than they had ever gotten with Tommy and that night, you orgasmed to the thought of Joel. 

You knew you should have been disgusted and you should have ratted the older male out to his brother but anytime you tried to bring it up, the words died slowly in your mouth and never escaped. You pushed those thoughts deep down and swore to never mention it, you didn’t want to upset Tommy. 

Instead, you avoided Joel like the plague, anytime he was coming back from patrols or a shift, you would find any reason possible to leave the room and make yourself busy. Tommy hadn’t really noticed it, you disguised your discomfort well; you would leave to make dinner, to wash dishes or go and see Lara, your friend; it all seemed fairly normal but Joel knew and it only seemed to make him more persistent in his attempts to be in the same room as you. 

—

The sun was setting over Jackson, Tommy was on a night patrol, your least favourite and you were at home, alone. Well, besides Joel. 

As the evening ticked on; you had done everything you possibly could to avoid the older Miller brother until it was time for you to go to sleep, or at least retire to your bedroom for the evening. 

You had scrubbed the kitchen clean, made food for when Tommy would come in during the early hours of the next morning, scrubbed his work clothes clean and hung them up in the kitchen to dry in front of the stove. 

You had a brief shower and finally, you were able to sink into the warm comfort of your bed. Your door was pushed to, barely left open by a crack and you let your eyes drift closed, patiently waiting for sleep to overcome you. 

Time seemed to move impossibly slow, it felt like you had been laid there for hours, waiting for sleep to take you but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get comfy, you couldn’t get your temperature right and sleep didn’t feel like it was ever going to happen for you. 

You huffed loudly and threw the covers off of you, letting your arms drop either side of you in frustration as he huffed again before your mind started to wander. 

Soon, before you could stop it, thoughts of Joel fucking his fist were filling your mind and you felt yourself get slicker. You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated your next moves; Tommy wasn’t going to be home for hours to satisfy you and sometimes you did fall asleep quickly after masturbating. It didn’t help that you were ovulating again, which meant you were more horny than normal. 

You let you fingers slide under Tommy’s oversized t-shirt just so they could trail over your panties; you shivered at your own touch and without any more messing around, you dipped your fingers between your wet folds and started to circle your swollen clit. The immediate relief was like a wave crashing over you intensely and you gasped as your back arched up when your fingers sped up. 

—

Joel heard your bed creak, the problem with these houses in Jackson is that they were old and poorly made; the walls were thin and the floorboards creaked, not to mention a lot of the handcrafted furniture or hand-me-down’s. 

He crept out of his own room to check if you were okay, he reached yours and Tommy’s bedroom door and through the crack, he could see your body glowing in the low light of the moon seeping through the threadbare curtains. 

There you were, arching up and he could see your nimble fingers pleasuring yourself. It was his own perfect picture of sin waiting for him to take. 

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched with interest in his jeans; you were everything he wanted but couldn’t take. Ever since he laid eyes on you, the first day you arrived in Jackson, he knew he had to have you and since then, his dark obsession only grew. 

And the fact you were with his brother? It only drove him madder and made him want you even more. 

—

“Oh, yeah, fuck. Just like that, daddy.” You whimpered quietly as your fingers dipped lower to sink into your hole. 

You had never once called Tommy daddy, it was a nickname you had reserved for Joel in the darkest, deepest and dirtiest depths of your mind. That small, reserved section of your mind that Joel took up; even when Tommy would be fucking you, you felt your mind drift off to thoughts of him. Thoughts of his thick cock. His hot ropes of cum on your soiled panties. The way he locked eyes with you and didn’t think to stop. 

You felt the heat of shame swallow your body as your eyes screwed tightly shut, little flecks of white danced behind your eyelids as you came around your fingers; your mouth agape with pleasure. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” Joel muttered, pushing your door open further and stepping into the dark room. 

“What the fuck!?” You screeched as you pulled your fingers from your panties and sat bolt upright to see the older Miller smirking at you. 

“My brother know you’re at home fucking yourself? Or is he not doing a good enough job and you’ve gotta satisfy yourself?” He cooed, stepping closer to your bed until he perched at the foot and stroked his hand up your foot. 

You kicked his hand away and folded your arms across the old fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt, trying to hide your hardened nipples. 

“I’m gonna say this one time, and one time only… fuck off, Joel. I’m with Tommy. End of. I love him. I don’t want you.” You all but spat, your voice sounding like pure venom as you spoke. 

“Oh. Feisty little girl. My brother got a fiery one. Good for him.” He smirked, his hand stroking further up your leg with each word. 

His hand finally reached your upper thigh and the breath in your throat caught shakily; you felt like you suddenly couldn’t breathe and every touch of his finger tips felt like multiple electric shocks to you. 

“Joel.” You warned. “I-I- I’m with Tommy, you need to l-leave?” Your voice was shaky, even with all good intentions you couldn’t help the way it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

“Hm?” He purred, his brow quirked as he pushed your thighs apart; he could see your inner thighs glistening in the cool glow from the moonlight, your arousal making your skin sticky. “Fuck.” He groaned. “So wet, this all for my brother? Hm?”

“Y-yes. Of course, who else would it be for?” You blushed. 

“I heard you call out daddy, you callin’ Tommy that? Something he don’t know yet? He gon’ finally be a daddy?” Joel’s fingers stroked so gently over your panties you weren’t even sure that he was actually touching you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering. 

“No. No. He’s not — I mean, we’re not.” You mumbled, your breath shaking as you watching Joel’s dark eyes rake over you. Your arms were back by your sides and your fingers were clutching at the sheets below you. 

“That’s a shame.” He tutted, pressing one of his digits hard against the damp fabric of your panties. “You would look so sexy, all round and full. Fuck, you deserve to be bred the way you deserve.”

“Joel —“ you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as his finger pressed against your sensitive clit. “We shouldn’t. I mean, we- we can’t, I’m with Tommy. Please don’t make this harder for me.” 

“Come on baby girl, let me show you just how much better I am than Tommy. How much better I could be for you. Better lover, better daddy.”

You gasped at his words, they had such a visceral effect on you; it was instantaneous, with each word you felt yourself practically dripping for him. 

“Fuck. Come here.” You whimpered, leaning forward to grab Joel’s shirt to crash your lips together. 

It was an aggressive clash of lips, teeth and tongues; within seconds, Joel’s tongue found its way into your mouth and was kissing you in a way you could have only dreamt of with Tommy. 

Joel’s hand found its way to your jawline and he gripped it tightly as he climbed onto the bed to lay next to you. His other hand found its way under your shirt to grope at your breasts.

Everything felt so familiar yet entirely different; Joel’s hands were larger, they were rougher and more calloused than Tommy’s. His touches felt more aggressive, more lustful and you couldn’t deny the way it drove you mad. 

Joel’s facial hair scratched at the soft skin of your face, again, in a way that was entirely different to Tommy; it was hotter, it was forbidden. 

“Waited to kiss you like this since day one. Fuck, you feel so good under me.” Joel groaned against your lips as his fingers toyed with the hardened buds of your nipples. 

You arched up to his rough fingers and instinctively spread your legs further for him, all shame seemed to dissipate with every grope from the older man. 

“Fuck, I need more. Please.” You whimpered. 

Joel took the hint quickly, he kissed down your neck and trailed his fingers down your sternum before he finally reached the waistband of your panties. Joel breathed deeply as his fingers finally dipped into the damp fabric, he didn’t mess around and immediately, his fingers found your clit without any fumbling around. 

Your eyes widened at Joel and he just smirked as he circled it expertly with his thick fingers. He ducked his head down and kissed you once more, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip as you whimpered underneath him. 

“Fuck.” You whined pathetically under Joel. “Fuck, daddy. Fuck.” 

The words spilled from your mouth, they were smothered against Joel’s mouth but he still heard them and he smirked once more. 

“Fuckin’ knew you thought about me. Filthy little girl, aren’t you? Look at you, all whored out and for who? Your boyfriend’s brother. Filthy little slut.” Joel cooed with deep condescension. 

You whimpered again, it was all you trusted yourself to do; you knew if you tried to talk, your words would die in your throat and would fail you immensely.

“Take that top off. Need to see your beautiful tits again, fuck. Think about them all the time. I watch you, y’know.” Joel whispered into your ear. “I watch you when you’re showering, watch the way you soap up your tits. Fuck have cum over that image so many times.” Joel admitted. 

You gasped at his confession, you knew you should have been disgusted by his words, by his actions but it only seemed to grow your attraction, your arousal for him further. 

You quickly sat up, legs still spread for Joel and whipped the T-shirt over your head; your tits bounced gently as you laid back down and Joel let out a near animalistic growl at the sight of you below him. 

“Need to taste your pussy. Fuck. Need to so bad. Can’t stop myself now.” He smirked and without another word, he was removing your panties and positioning his head between your messy thighs. 

He used his thumb and finger to spread the glistening pink of your pussy before he licked a fat stripe up through your folds, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He did it a couple of times before bringing his head back up to you. 

“Open.” He hissed at you. 

There was a momentary second of confusion before you obediently opened your mouth for Joel, your tongue hanging out in anticipation. Joel spat into your mouth slowly, a fat line of your arousal and Joel’s spit landed on your tongue and you swallowed it back eagerly. 

It was filthy; it was pure debauchery and you honestly thought you might have died and gone to heaven right there. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” He praised and dipped his head down to suck your clit into his mouth. 

He suckled at the nub gently, the pressure sending thousands of shockwaves through your body at once. You shuddered with the pleasure and a soft whine fell from your lips. Joel’s nose nudged at your mound as his tongue flicked over your clit before he circled it and then went back to sucking at it; he repeated these motions in consecutive moments but would switch up what he would do next. Just to keep you on your toes. 

“Fuck. Daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You cried, tears pricking at your eyes from pure pleasure. 

Never had Tommy made you feel like this; your body was on fire, your skin was flushed and a slick layer of sweat settled all over your body. 

“Good girl. Cum for me. Fuckin’ soak my face. That’s it. Atta girl.” Joel praised between his pleasuring movements of his tongue. “Call me daddy again, driving me mad.” He hissed, spitting onto your clit before licking it back up with a flicking motion of his tongue. 

“Daddy!” You whined, your back arching off the bed like a possessed woman. “Oh my god!” You whined, the noise getting caught in your throat as your orgasm ripped through your entire body. 

You peered down as Joel licked you through your orgasm and you noticed the way his hips were grinding against the bed. This man was going to kill you off. He was so turned on by eating you out that he felt the need to hump at the bed like a horny mutt. 

“Jesus Christ.” You whimpered as Joel dragged a slow finger through your folds just to place a playful slap to your exposed pussy. 

“I prefer daddy.” Joel smirked, sitting back to remove his shirt and unbuckle his jeans. “How do you wanna take me, my good girl?”

Your head was swimming, it span with pleasure and you could barely think straight for more than two seconds. 

“I — um, you choose.” You whispered. 

“On all fours then, I know that’s how you like it the best. You always seem to cum the hardest when he fucks you like that.” Joel grinned, removing his clothes and standing at the edge of the bed, giving his thick cock a few testing strokes. 

You swallowed roughly, feeling as if there were razor blades sliding down. “You… you, you watched us fuck?” You asked dumbfounded, the words sounded bizarre as they bounced around the room. 

“Course I have, darlin’. Told you. I wanted you the moment I saw you. Just ‘cause you ain’t mine officially doesn’t mean I was gonna stop wanting you.” He spoke so calmly, like it was a totally normal thing to say. “And for the record, I know you ain’t ever cum that hard with Tommy, now you’ve got me thinking you fake it with him.”

“I do not.” You protested, your voice not convincing even to yourself. 

Joel raised a brow at you in question, his lips turned up at the corner with an air of a smirk. 

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ve faked it a few times.” You admittedly quietly. 

“Atta girl, ain’t so hard to tell the truth now, is it?” He said smugly. “Now, get on your hands and knees, show me that pretty cunt before I destroy it. Good girls get rewarded and you’ve been real good for me, sweetheart.”

Silently, you positioned yourself for Joel; still unsure of why you were doing this; why you were potentially throwing away your great relationship and for what? A couple good orgasms. You were fucked. 

Joel tapped the thick head of his cock against your entrance and instinctively, you tried to push back onto him. 

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Joel cooed, slapping your clit with his hardened cock. “Not until I say so, baby girl. I’m in charge, I decide when you deserve my cock. Not sure you’re even gonna be able to take me. You look so tight and perfect.”

“Fuck, you’re such an ass. Such a tease. Please, I need it, Joel.” You whined petulantly. 

“Try again, sweetheart. Who am I?”

“Daddy.” You whispered. 

“And what do you want?” He beamed smugly. 

“Your cock, please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. Please.” You mewled. 

“Good.” Joel praised, he pressed his cock into your tight heat, so slowly that you felt every inch of the delicious stretch. “Good girl.” He sighed as he bottomed out in you. 

Under Joel, your fingers grasped at the sheets and your knuckles turned pale under the intense grip you had on them. He was big. Not just in length but he was girthy, thicker than Tommy was and you knew going forward, he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you in this way.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Clearly not been fucked in the proper way, so wet and tight for me.” Joel groaned, drawing his hips back slowly before thrusting forward slowly once again so you could feel every inch of him; every notch and vein of him. 

You nodded under him, your words failing you once again as pleasure swamped your body like an infection; it took over every one of your senses.

Joel’s fingers gripped tightly at your soft hips as he built a steady rhythm, with each thrust you could feel his cock head nudge at the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of yourself. It was heady and intense, your fingers tingled as Joel fucked you roughly. 

His soft, slow thrusts from the start were long gone; he held you tighter as his hips snapped forward with force and pure fervour. 

“Daddy. Feels so good.” You whimpered under him, your tights swaying back and forth as he fucked you. “Want you to fill me up. Breed me, please. Fuck.” You pleaded. 

Joel couldn’t help the groan that rumbled from deep in his throat, it was a deep and masculine noise that shocked you. 

“Hm, want me to give you that baby you want so bad?” Joel asked, landing a harsh spank to your doughy ass cheek. “Want to feel my cum leaking out of you as you try to sleep? Hm? Want my cum to stick to your inner thighs ready for when Tommy’s home?” He spanked you again as he spoke and you nodded eagerly at him. “Bet you would, little fucking whore.”

“I am. I’m a filthy little whore. All for you though, daddy. Not for him.”

Joel buried his cock deep into you and snaked his hand around to your mouth. 

“Spit on them, slut.” He instructed abruptly. 

You collected some spit on your tongue before you spat onto Joel’s digits, ignoring the way it dripped onto the sheets below you. 

He took his spit-slicked fingers and placed them on the swollen nub of your clit, you gasped at the contact and Joel circled it perfect, the spit and your arousal making it easy for him to pass his fingers directly over the sensitive bundle. 

“I bet Tommy wouldn’t even be surprised if he came home and found some other man’s cum making you all messy and sticky; he knows you’re a filthy little whore, perfect little sinner.” He groaned, his fingers working faster to bring you closer to your orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum again, Joel.” You whispered, his name falling off your lips with ease, like you said it all the time. 

“Sound so sexy when you say my name.” He cooed. “You want to cum on my cock? Hm? Wanna cum on it whilst I fill you with my hot seed. God, wanna breed this little cunt so bad. So hot and tight. Hope I get you pregnant.” He growled. 

Joel’s words, his fingers and his cock all worked in perfect unison to push you off the edge and fall into your second, intense orgasm; your head lulled forward into the crook of your elbow as you clenched around Joel’s still cock. You felt so full, so deliciously full and you wanted to stay like this forever. 

“Good girl. Now let me cum in this little cunt. You ready for that?” He asked softly, brushing some hair away from your shoulder before he placed a soft, tender kiss to the skin of your back. 

It was a stark contrast to the way he had just been treating you and it made your stomach flutter with adoration for the older male. 

You nodded, it was all Joel needed and he went back to gripping your hips with an intense tightness. He pulled his cock all the way out before he snapped forward again; his thrusts were rough and short, you could tell he was just rutting himself to his own greedy high. All you could do was whimper and moan underneath him, taking everything he had to offer. 

“I know baby. I know. It’s okay. Almost there. Such a good girl.” Joel mumbled, his thumbs smoothing over your skin as he fucked into you feverishly. 

You whined under the male as his hips stalled and stuttered, and then, suddenly you felt the hot ropes of his cum coat your insides. Joel’s thick cock twitched inside of you and for a second, you felt even fuller than before as his seed filled you. 

Joel stayed like that for a second, only moving his hips with slow, sloppy thrusts; the obscene squelching noises of your arousals filled the silent room and you whimpered pathetically. 

He slowly pulled out of you with a hiss, his cock fell and he collapsed onto the bed. You winced as you moved to lay next to the male, you knew you were going to be feeling sore for the next couple of days but you liked it, it would serve as a real reminder than this actually happened and wasn’t the result of a heavy night of drinking or a weird fever dream. 

“Fuck.” You muttered, leaning up on your elbows to suck in a few deep and shaky breaths. “What the fuck have I done? What the fuck did you do?” You hissed, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft sob; the lust clearing from the room as the grim reality settled around you. 

“Gave you what you’ve been wanting, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Joel offered up softly. 

“Joel…” you whispered. “I’m - I’m ovulating and you just came right inside of me. Oh my fucking god. I’m dead. Tommy is gonna kill me. Tommy is gonna kill you.” 

“Tommy won’t know. Just make sure you have sex with him in the next couple of days and you’ll be golden. And well, if it happens. It happens. Uncle Joel at your service. If it doesn’t, we’ll try again next month.” He teased, with his forearm draped over his eyes. 

“You’re not fucking funny.” You yelled. “Get out Joel, you’re fucked in the head. Get out.” You screamed, slapping his side and pushing the male off the bed. 

He got off the bed and held his arms up in surrender. 

“Okay, chill out. I’m gone. Tommy won’t know, I won’t say a word. And when you want this to happen again, you say the words and I’ll be right here for you, sweetheart.” He smirked as he bunched his clothes up into his arms. 

He picked up your discarded panties and left the room without another word.

You wrapped the duvet around your naked body and sobbed quietly to yourself; this whole situation was about to get real fucking messy. You laid there, tears staining your cheeks as you prayed that it wouldn’t happen as different scenarios played out in your mind like a horror movie.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you awoke to the mattress dipping next to you and Tommy placed a kiss to your shoulder and stroked your side. 

“Hello baby,” he whispered, snuggling up behind you. “Smells like sex in here.” He said, with a soft chuckle. 

“That was me…” you muttered, still not daring to look your boyfriend in the eyes. “Got so damn horny I had to touch myself, I couldn’t wait for you to get home.” You lied and closed your eyes. 

“Now as exciting as that sounds, I’m so tired I don’t think I could even get it up if I tried. Tomorrow? I promise.” He laughed, kissing your shoulder again before he turned his back to you and fell asleep. 

You laid there for hours, watching your peaceful boyfriend sleeping; letting the guilt nibble away at every piece of you before you saw Joel leave for the morning patrols. He walked past your bedroom door, he lingered for a few seconds, looked at you with a smirk before he raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and winked at you. 

You bit on your bottom and squeezed your legs together; it shouldn’t turn you on but still, here you were, laid in bed with his brother as your core throbbed for Joel Miller. 

-

-

[look-at-the-soul]

Grandma knows best

Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma)

Summary: Thomas Shelby is a well known gánster, reckless, fearless, stubborn, restless… he might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t an inconsiderate man. Not specially with an elderly woman.

A/N: 🤷🏻‍♀️ grandmas definitely knows what’s best for us 👵🏻♥️✨ nothing but a fluff moment…

See the Grandma series here

Word count: 3,303

Taking off you coat, you tried to rub your hands to warm them up. Announcing you just arrived, barely noticing an unfamiliar voice.

But to your surprise, once you stepped into the kitchen, you found the least person you thought that could ever be there.

The Small Heath devil, Thomas Shelby.

“Oh darling, there you are.” You grandma greeted you with a wide smile. “I was just telling Mr. Shelby about you.”

“Grandma.” You were paralyzed, frozen in spot.

Giving you a subtle double look, he had to force himself to compose, nothing your grandmother had said about you prepared him. Your beauty was beyond words. And over the last hour he had heard nothing but compliments and good things, he had to admit he had been curious about that young lady that seemed to be exceptional.

A long time ago you learned walking alone once is dark is a bad idea, but crossing your eyes with that man was worse.

“We haven’t done anything wrong Mr. Shelby…” you tried to explain as the man stared perplexed, his man spread as if he owed everything in that house.

“Sweetheart Mr. Shelby helped me with the groceries and bread, the basket was heavy and he offered to walk me home.”

Noticing the terror in your eyes, he cleared his throat.

“My job is done here Mrs. Barwick, it was lovely to meet you, thank you for the tea.”

Standing up, he grabbed his peaky cap, the razor blade caught the light and shone in your direction. But your grandmother had a different idea.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You’ve to stay for dinner.”

“Absolutely not.” You rushed to interrupt. Looking down at the tone you just used to answer your grandma you mumbled an apology.

“I really appreciate the offer bu-”

“This is absurd, you can’t leave until you’ve had dinner Mr. Shelby, I must insist, and I need to know the rest of the story of that caravan trip you did.” She replied scolding him just like she did with you, in that motherly tone.

Frowning you looked from her, to the well known gánster. There was no way back now, he was staying for dinner.

“Now, would you like some more tea?” She offered to him, as Thomas opened his mouth to say no, your grandma filled the cup again. It looked ridiculous in his hand.

The most dangerous man in the country drinking tea from a cup decorated with flowers. ¡In your bloody kitchen!

“Milk?” She offered, ignoring the fact that he could kill her anytime. You’ve heard all kinds of stories about him and the tortures he used among his enemies.

“Yes thank you.”

“Sweetheart, would you mind helping me here?” She pointed at the pot next to her knees, it was getting harder for her to bend down these days.

“I’ll get that for you.” He offered and in mere seconds he was crunching down to get it.

“Oh bless you.” Your grandma offered him another smile. “Why are you still standing there?” She called to get your attention.

Shaking your head a little, you were able to move past the initial shock, but still threw the man a side look just to make sure he wasn’t planning to blind your grandmother.

“Shall I cut these?” Mr. Shelby proposed pointing at the potatoes, after your grandmother nodded he produced a knife from his pocket, making you gasp. “Everything alright Miss Y/LN?”

“If you excuse me, I’ll come back in a minute.” She raised her eyebrows at you before she left.

“Listen it’s just the two of us alright? I pay the taxes and give money to church but I won’t pay you for protection.” You should have kept your mouth shut but for some reason, adrenaline made you talkative and you were nervous, afraid for your life, for your grandma.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to collect any money.” He raised his hands in defense. “Your grandmother is adorable.”

“What?” You asked perplexed, thinking of a possible way to get out of the house safely.

“You heard me, I’m not here to do any harm to you or her.” He clicked his tongue. “She said you’re a smart woman, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Then why are you here?” Confusion was written all over you.

“She offered me tea and cookies… oh! And dinner.”

“You can’t stay!”

“Y/N! Where are your manners? That’s no way to treat such a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at her words. Thomas Shelby a gentleman. He narrowed his eyes, and gave you an offended look.

“Set the table, I’ll finish this.” She ordered.

Doing as she asked, you went to collect the plates.

“Not that ones! The fancy set!” She instructed pointing the spoon at you.

Tommy chuckled at your surprised expression, but quickly looked down to continue his task chopping the vegetables.

But he’s a criminal! He’s a gangster! You wanted to say. Yet, she wanted to use the delicate china reserved only for important occasions.

Placing the plates, you took then the silverware from the drawer. Seconds later you heard them laughing over something he had said, your grandmother’s voice praising him for his sense of humor. She had no idea who he was! Or what he had done.

“And what did he say afterwards?” He asked your grandma, you found him leaning against the sink, his body turned to face her.

“He said, I swore I saw you first, it had to be me the one who would make the first move.” Your grandmother stated proudly.

Here she was, seventy something years old telling the number one Birmingham’s criminal her love story with your grandfather.

“I told him, of course honey, you chose me. He always thought it was him, but it was me the one who chose him.”

“How long were you married?” He asked with interest.

“Over fifty years, most of my life. Can you believe that?”

“That’s lovely.” He admitted. The words sounded so wrong in his mouth, he should be cursing or shouting.

“Dinner is ready.” Your grandma announced. “Y/N help our guest.”

You wanted to roll your eyes.

“Food smells amazing.” He complimented.

“Would you like a piece of bread? Tommy?”

“Grandma!”

“What? He says I can call him that.” She defended.

“Please.” He smiled and you groaned internally. “I’m going to wash my hands.”

As soon as he disappeared, your grandma grabbed your arm. “You need to put a smile on that face my darling, can’t you see? An educated gentleman is visiting us, he smells nice, has a sense of humor, is polite and handsome… have you seen his eyes? It’s like a piece of heaven!”

“So what? He’s a-”

“You need to find yourself a decent man, Y/N.”

“He’s not a decent man.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Grandma, he’s an arrogant, selfish and dangerous-”

“May I have this honor?” He asked interrupting your little disagreement, offering his arm to your grandma, he guided her tenderly towards the table. He probably heard everything you said.

“So, Tommy what is that you do?”

“I’ve a business, we sell car parts in different countries.”He wasn’t lying.

“I’ve never used a car!”

“Then I should take you for a ride.”

You felt about to combust, he was charming your grandmother and she believed him!

Grinding your teeth, you placed the food on his plate.

“I really appreciate this.” He gave you a twisted smile.

Your grandmother’s hand came to rest on his arm. “I’m so glad I came across you this afternoon. It’s been lovely to share this meal with you.”

“I’m flattered you think that.”

“You don’t have a wife waiting at home, do you Tommy?” Your grandma asked bluntly and you almost chocked on your food.

“No, Mrs Barwick. I’m not married.”

“How is that possible?” She shook her head. “You deserve a good woman!” Then, looking at you she said; “what was that tale I told you to find a husband?”

“I don’t know grandma, I’m done with my dinner if you excuse m-”

But the look she threw in your direction, made you reconsider leaving the table. Sometimes she didn’t need to use her words. One look was more than enough.

You took a deep breath uncomfortable, and it only grew as you could feel Mr. Shelby’s eyes on you.

“Your grandma mentioned you sell books.” He asked to ease the tension.

“Yes.”

“Oh but show him! About that collection you got.” Your grandma encouraged.

“What is it about? Eh?”

“She’s a great seller.” She praised.

“Oh.” Mr. Shelby’s eyes sparkled. He was having fun. “Really?”

He was the most irritating person you’ve ever met.

“It’s about the Greek mithology.”

“Fascinating.” He nodded. “Why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow? I’d like the entire collection.”

“That’s wonderful!” Your grandma beamed.

“All set then.” He ran his tongue over his lips and then, tilted his head. “You made me remember about my grandmother.”

“What was a she like?” Your grandmother asked, batting her lashes.

He had her eating from his palm deliberately.

Studying the man before your eyes, something changed inside you. How could he be so cold-hearted? He seemed like a total different person in that very moment, his guard was down, posture totally relaxed, he even had a smile on his face.

Catching you off guard, you had to look away from him.

“She was a gypsy princess.” His blue eyes filled with nostalgia. “Thanks to her I learned all about values like respect, loyalty. She showed me how to ride a horse and light a fire.”

“It must’ve been hard for her to be on the road.”

“Actually no, she loved to be free, said how nature provided us for everything we might need.” He explained all while his deep voice was dragging you into something you couldn’t name. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up. Thank you once again.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening Tommy, would love to have you again for dinner .”

He gave you another look, not so subtle this time.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, right Y/N?” She pressed her elbow against your arm. “Walk him to the door my dear.”

Offering his hand to her, she whispered into his ear; “She doesn’t trust easily, you’ll need to work harder.”

Tommy tried to disguise his chuckle, after winking at your grandmother he thanked you too.

“I really enjoyed it, hope to see you around?” He arranged the peaky cap on his head and placed his hand on your arm.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby.” Was all you could think of saying, still confused by everything that happened.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby?” Your grandmother mimicked your voice. “You’ll need to do better next time, fix your hair, wear your new shoes… a little something! Y/N I placed him in a silver tray for you and you only said two words to him. Sweetheart you need to do something to catch his attention.”

Opening your mouth to protest, but she continued rambling. “But be discreet, you must stand out from the other women, don’t throw yourself at him, leave him wanting more,” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “A hand on his shoulder, hold his gaze… or pretend to brush something from his coat and then look at his lips.”

“Grandma, stop.” You blushed.

“Goodness, I can’t do anything else for you! He was right here!” She took the plates to the kitchen. “A smile might help, you need to ask him about his day, fix his handkerchief…”

“He was only here because you didn’t give him another option.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“My sweet girl, you’ve everything he needs,” she cupped your chin gently. “But you’re too shy! He kept staring at you…”

“I think your imagination is wild.”

“Y/NY/LN,” you stopped midway as she called your full name. Oh oh. “I like him to be my grandson-in-law… so you gotta do something soon.”

And knowing her the way you did, you realized there was no way back now. Once an idea got into her head, she wouldn’t let that slip away.

“I’ve been praying for this moment for so long!” You heard her say from across the room and then she mumbled something about that blue dress that suited you so well.

As you were about to clean the kitchen you heard a knock on the door. Opening, you were surprised to find the most terrifying man on your doorstep once more.

Your heart rate went up immediately, he was standing with his hands crossed in front of his body, head hanging low, you could only see his lips under the peaky cap.

“I’ll be waiting for you Miss Y/LN, tomorrow ten o’clock, I’ll make sure to send someone to help you with the books.”

“That won’t be necessary, I can carry them by myself.” You insisted, still unsure about his intention.

“Fairly well, as you wish.”

As he turned around to leave, something made you stop him.

“I want to thank you for helping my grandmother.” Never, in a million years you imagined you’d be grateful for something he did.

Lifting his jaw to stare at you with those piercing blue eyes that could set anyone into stone, he gave you a smile.

“I just did the right thing.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve nothing to be afraid of by the way, don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I just learned that, you can be considerate and charming sometimes.”

“Then consider yourself lucky,” he winked at you, “that doesn’t happen too often.”

Looking past your shoulder, Tommy noticed your grandmother’s head poking, moving her hands excitedly towards you.

****

Master list

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[firewasabeast]

Bucktommy prompt idea for you:

Tommy going to Bobby, NOT to ask for his blessing on proposing to Buck, but thinking that Bobby will talk him out of it as it's too soon (Tommy needs someone to be rational with him and he thinks Bobby is levelheaded, especially when it comes to Buck).

He's unaware that Bobby and Athena basically speedran their way down the aisle, and Bobby gives him his blessing AND practically helps him plan the proposal/wedding instead.

This was ridiculous.

They'd only been together for four months.

Sure, Tommy could easily say they had been the best four months of his life, but still... four months.

You don't buy a ring for someone after only four months.

At least Tommy didn't. He wasn't that type. He was levelheaded, thought things through.

Even when he flew that helicopter straight through a hurricane, he thought that through. Knew he could do it. Knew to trust Howie and Hen and their instincts.

But this was all on him.

He was standing outside of a jewelry store, ring in one hand, receipt in the other, wondering what the hell just happened to him? Was he drugged? Possessed? What would possibly make him think this was a wise option? Why could he already envision Buck standing across from him in front of a room full of people as they spoke their vows to one another?

Tommy stuffed the ring and the receipt into his pockets. He practically marched to his car. There was only one person he could think to go to. One person who could talk some sense into him.

*****

“That's amazing, Tommy!” Bobby exclaimed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

This was... not what he expected.

“Amazing?” he questioned once Bobby pulled back. “Bobby, it's insane.”

“What's insane about it?”

“We've only been together four months. He moved in a week ago, and we both joked about how crazy that even was.”

“And how's that week been?” Bobby asked, leading them over to the couch.

“It's... It's been great. Fantastic, really, but it's new. It'll wear off.”

“Doesn't have to.”

“Bobby, I- I thought I'd be coming here today for you to talk me out of this, not for me to talk me out of it while you talk me into it.”

Bobby smiled. “You love him?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“He loves you?”

“Yeah, he does,” Tommy replied, softer as he thought about the many times they'd said those words to each other over the last three months.

“You like spending time together?”

“We haven't spent a night apart since we started dating, work excluded.”

“You see a future with him?”

Tommy nodded. “We both want kids. He's gonna be such a great dad, too. He doubts himself sometimes, but I don't doubt him. We'd have to buy a bigger place someday, but we've got enough space for three where we are now.” Tommy's eyes were focused off in the distance, like he was imagining their whole lives together. “I haven't traveled much, outside of my time in the army, but we've made plans to do a roadtrip so he can show me all the places he's been. And he's so smart. He knows something about everything and I love that because he's always right. I don't even have to double check.” He stopped abruptly when he realized he was rambling. That's what got him into this mess in the first place. He got to thinking about Evan, and then he couldn't stop thinking about Evan, and then he was driving to a jewelry store.

Bobby shrugged. “I don't see a problem here, Tommy. Athena and I got engaged in less than a year, and I couldn't imagine it any other way.” He reached out, giving Tommy a pat on the leg. “You're a good guy, Tommy. Buck is just as much in this relationship as you are, believe me. You ask, he'll say yes.”

Somehow a wave of relief, along with a surge of anxiety, washed over Tommy at the same time. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

*****

Tommy stayed a bit longer, catching up with Bobby and discussing what plans he had for a proposal. When it was time to leave, Bobby walked him to the door. He reached for a handshake that turned into a hug.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Tommy said with a final pat on the back before he headed out.

“Anytime, kid. Hey, you have Buck call me after he says yes!”

Tommy smiled, giving Bobby a final wave before he got into his car.

Bobby wasn't surprised when his phone began to ring a few hours later, Buck's name lighting up the screen.

[myers-meadow]

Chance meetings: Tommy Shelby x reader

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader.

Summary: As you attend a wedding of the family, you meet an interesting man. He keeps popping up in your life. Maybe there's something there, something between you? AKA You share a kiss in the stables. This is firmly set in season 1.

Part two here.

Warnings: none. Safe for work.

Word count: over 2k

This is my first time writing for Tommy and the Peaky Blinders! English is not my native language, I hope I did ok! Feedback, comments and reblogs are very welcome <3. Dividers by @saradika-graphics (thank u for all u do for fandom <3)

You may not have known who John Shelby was, but when you were invited for the wedding through your best friend, you didn't hesitate to go. A wedding was a wedding, after all, and you loved them. The getting pretty, the dress, the vows, the ceremony of the mingling blood, the food, the dancing... Oh, the dancing!

You were more jaded than your sisters by far, as you were the oldest, and still unwed in your twenties, but that didn't deter you from the topic of love. When you saw the looks the couple gave each other during the ceremony, and the tension in the air was tight-strung, it was easy to deduce this wasn't a marriage of love. But it could be, you told yourself. There is all the time in the world for love to blossom. Weddings were so beautiful, and you watched as the ceremony turned into the party. Helping the other women with serving drinks and food, the time flew by.

"I just love weddings," sighed one of the Shelby's to you, a young woman, as you handed her a drink.

"Me too," you responded, politely, not expecting further conversation. The way she looked at you made you halt.

"Are you married? I see no ring." Before you could answer, she downed the drink in one go, and continued. "I am. We got married in secret. He said I looked like an angel..."

"He's lucky to have you, in secret or not," you responded.

A worried frown crossed her face. "My brothers hate him. Or; they'd rather have him not be part of the family."

"Why is that?"

She shook her head, refilled her own glass and took a good drink. "And now they're marrying John off to solve some political dispute I'm sure. They never tell us women anything, do they?"

She needed to vent, you let her speak.

"I wore the most beautiful dress... Matching white lacquered shoes... It was-" She interrupted herself to finish her drink.

As she went for the bottle, you stopped her. "Love, not so quick. Maybe have a dance, first. If your love ain't here, there's a dozen handsome men willing to stand in, I'm sure."

Her eyes turned fierce as you held onto the bottle, not handing it over to her. "You can't refuse me. Do you know who I am? I'm a Shelby."

A man stepped closer, hands in his pockets. "I thought you were a Thorne, now."

That was how you met Thomas Shelby.

Just like Ada, her brother Thomas was used to getting what he wanted. A little later on in the evening, the sun had set, you topped off his glass. He stopped you from moving on to the next empty glass, with the flick of his fingers, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. The smoke from his cigarette curled upwards, to the bare night sky.

"Sit. Join me." His words were spoken softly, but with an authoritative edge that made you do as he said, more curious than anything.

"Mr. Shelby, right?" you asked, with an eyebrow raised.

He set his glass down on the table, took the bottle of whiskey from him, plucked an empty glass from the table, and poured it neatly half full. He handed it to you. The drink was cold against your palm. "A toast. To the newlyweds." He didn't even really smile, but you clinked your glass against his and took a sip.

"To the newlyweds, may their union be one blessed with joy and laughter."

Thomas brought the cigarette to his lips, and the two of you simply sat, staring at the other. It felt like he noticed a great deal about you, from the way you wore your hair, how you fidgeted with your lace cardigan, to how you suppressed your wince at the sharpness of the drink. He was breathtaking in the flickering light of the campfire nearby, it danced over his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features. Yet his lips were plump, and you tore your eyes away before you could get any ideas.

"Cigarette?" he asked, already finding the case in his jacket pocket. He lit your cigarette for you like a gentleman and the drag you took was perhaps the first time you breathed properly in his company. "You're not a Lee I know. Are you a friend of the family? Recently married into it?"

"A friend, as of yet unmarried," you say, eyes dancing over his handsome face. Laughter sounds as the music takes a more upbeat turn. "If I'm no longer doing the whiskey rounds, I'd like to dance. It's a wedding after all. Will you join me, Mr. Shelby?"

He laughed softly, rubbing his face with his free hand. "Well, why don't we, hm?" And he stood up to follow after you.

You hadn't expected to see Thomas again, not at all. It felt like a magical night, one of few in your life. One you had to make count, somehow. That's why you dared press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before making off to your wagon at the edge of the Lees territory. Yet you did, as you followed your brother into an unsuspecting pub in Birmingham. It was by a street with factories, and workers did their work. It smelt of burnt coal and ashes.

The pub was a welcome change in temperature, as it was cold outside. Your brother, Edwin, was here on some business or the other, and you came with him purely to have a change of scenery. Or rather, that is what you'd tell anyone who asked. Rather, as the oldest, you felt you needed to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't get in any trouble he couldn't handle. He was rather prone to that after dad died, but it was no matter to consider, as the two of you entered the pub. It smelled of smoke, stale drink, and of wood varnish. It was after dinner, so the pub was gradually filling up with patrons, their chatter a comforting sound.

"Thank you for coming. In here," said the man you were meeting, Arthur, and he lead you to a room to the side, shutting the door behind you. Another younger man was already seated, a toothpick pressed between his lips. Another man stood to the side, leaning against the wall, and you startled as recognition hit you.

"Mr. Shelby," you greeted, nodding. "Pleasure to run into you again."

Edwin sent you a look, one that meant 'we will discuss this later', so you immediately straightened your attitude to betray no memory of that night. Thomas sent you a fond nod, and you quickly averted your eyes to avoid staring. Yet your heart leapt in your chest - what a chance to see the intruiging man from the wedding again!

"Have a seat," Arthur said, as he sat down himself. Edwin and you took a booth seat. You nodded politely to the younger one. A barmaid, blonde, came in and set down glasses in front of each of you, and left a bottle on the table. Arthur rubbed his hands. "Let's talk business, then. About those prize horses..."

Their talk and their deal went well, but you found your mind wandering off, your gaze drawn by Thomas' chiselled features. He looked harsher today, in this light, more serious. Perhaps he was softened by the wedding, by being off the clock, last time. Yet, the weight of his gaze bore down on you as the meeting went on.

When the hands were shaken, and the deal was made, his smooth voice shook you from your thoughts.

"Let me get you a drink," he mumbled, too low for your brother who was still talking with Arthur, to hear. He lead you to the bar, where a barman with a white tea towel over his shoulder was wiping glasses clean. The young women from before tended tables. "Whiskey?"

At this point, you'd agree to anything, so you nod. He ordered for you, and he clinked his glass against yours much like that first time.

"What are we toasting to?" you asked.

He looked around, leading you to a quieter corner of the pub with a hand on the small of your back, half a smile tugging at his lips. "Those beautiful racing horses you're selling to us."

"Family business," you grimace as the whiskey burns its way down your throat. Tommy nodded, deft fingers finding the cigarette case in his jacket pocket, he offered you one, before pressing one between his own lips. The flame from the match sizzles as he struck it, and you inhale sharply.

"So, this is Birmingham." you concluded, a bit of a tease. "The factories seem busy, is it like that every day?"

He nodded, regarding you with the patience of a large cat. "Every day. I like the noise, keeps the mind silent. And you, what do you do? Sell horses?"

"I take care of the horses. Edwin sells them." You fiddled with the cigarette, tapping off the ashes. "Sometimes he lets me come along to vet if the people will take good care of them. Just based on feeling, though. I'll only see the stables when we bring them over."

Tommy put the matchbox back in his pocket, leaning forward. "You wanna see the stables? Come on, I'll show you."

In hindsight, you weren't sure what made you follow him unquestioningly - out of the pub, with as little as a wave to Edwin. Your brother grabbed your arm.

"Where d'you think you're headed, girl?"

Tommy answered for you. "I'm showing 'er the horses, so she can rest easy knowing we take good care of 'em."

A short silence fell, the authoritative stare Tommy gave Edwin hung like tension in the air. It felt like he was challenging him, and Edwin didn't protest again when Tommy led you out of the pub.

It was a bit of a walk, and Tommy kept a steady pace. You two chatted idly, about the city, about growing up Roma, about how John and his new wife were doing. Then, you arrived just outside the city, where the stables were, right next to the train tracks.

"Do the trains not startle the horses?" you question, as you look around the place. It all seemed pretty good. The smell of hay and of horse hits your nose, a familiar and comforting smell. Stepping inside of the stables, a large black horse (a Frisian?) greeted the pair of you. "What a beauty," you say breathlessly.

"Trains're only in twice a day. Horses get used to it fast. They're smart beasts." He reached out to pet the nose of the animal. "This one is Monaghan Boy. Quite the race winner."

He seemed proud and something swelled in your chest. "He's so big."

"Wanna ride him?" 

You shook your head. "Not today," you laughed, and he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m not winning any races today,” you joke. As you reached out your hand to let the horse smell you, another man entered the barn.

"Tommy, what are you doin' out here?" He said gruffly, before he noticed you. His voice softened. "Oh, and a young lady, hello."

"Uncle Charlie," Tommy said, jovially, "This is y/n, her and her brother are selling us some horses. She wanted to make sure they'll be well taken care off. Y/n, this is the man who takes care of the horses for us."

Charlie smiled. His face was drawn by years of hard work in the open air, and perhaps by war, you thought as you shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Charlie. I look forward to a good partnership from now on."

"Then I'll leave you two it," he said, with another look between the two of you. Monaghan Boy neighed in agreement. He left, leaving the two of you alone again.

"What are you thinking? Up to your standards?" Tommy asked, teasing undertone resting in his deep voice. He walks closer, until he's next to you, next to the big beast. His cologne smells delightful.

You nodded. "Better than I expected, especially for the city. I mean, look at this one," you say full of awe, as Monoghan Boy allows you to slide your hand over his mane. Thomas mimicked your movement, letting his hand rest on yours, intertwining your fingers. 

You turned to him, finding him caging you in against Monaghan Boy's flank.

"Perhaps there's something else you'd rather do than ride a horse, out here?" he whispered, just before his lips touch yours.

“I can think of a thing or two,” and you wrap your arms around his neck.

[runnning-outof-time]

Thanks for sending this lovely surprise in, Cia! 🥰 this gif tho…🥺🥺🥺 it immediately made me think of my mini-series, Girl Dad.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Loud Sounds

Tommy Shelby x Reader (from the mini-series Girl Dad)

Warnings: ptsd fueled episode (brought on by sound)

Tommy and his daughter, Thea, are out on Arrow House’s grounds. Thea asked if her father could take her fishing for the day and Tommy, surprisingly, agreed. (Y/N) was rather pregnant with their second child, and Tommy knew she needed a rest.

With their rods in hand, Tommy still managed to get Thea’s favorite horse, Sammy, out of the stable and the two rode him to the pond that was on the property.

Things were going well. Tommy had shown Thea how to properly cast the line and the little three and a half year old was more than happy with reeling in lily pads and soggy sticks. Tommy was happy that he was able to spend some quality time with his daughter; he’d been guilty of thrusting himself fully into his business these past several weeks.

But the baby was coming soon, so Tommy decided to cut back on the hours in his office. He even found that the more time he spent with his family, the less he was trying to find ways to quiet his mind.

He was usually ok with loud sounds, bangs in particular, and horses getting startled, so having this happen truly scared him. Afterwards he reasoned that maybe it was because the two sounds happened together, but in the moment he shutdown.

There was either a car that misfired, or someone in the woods shot their weapon. The loud bang that came from it startled Sammy to the point where he was rearing back and whinnying loudly.

Hearing these sounds made Tommy hit the ground; his mind transported back to France. He slid down the slight slope of the pond, flattening his body as best he could against the mud as he covered his head with his arms; waiting for the imending gun and canon-fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for it once again.

But it didn’t come. Instead, the sweet voice of his daughter filled the silence that returned after the horse had calmed down. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Her voice made Tommy open his eyes and look around. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through him and he was still able to hear his heart beating in his ears, but that was the only sound. Removing only one of his arms from his head, he checked his surroundings. It quickly became apparent that he wasn’t in France. Then he saw Thea. She was looking at him with an expression that was a mix of confusion and worry.

“Daddy?” she asked again, her head tipping to the side as she made her confusion even more clear.

“Noth…nothing, sweetheart. Nothing’s wrong,” he told her, not trusting his voice enough to sound confident at first.

“Mumma’s not going to be happy that you got your shoes and pants wet,” she pointed out in a warning tone, making Tommy realized that the lower half of his legs were now submerged in the pond.

“I don’t think she will be,” Tommy agreed with his daughter, taking a few more steadying breaths. He hated that he’d reacted like that; especially in front of Thea…but it was thanks to Thea that he was able to snap out of it. She quickly made him realize that he was no longer in France.

“I can help you up, daddy,” she then said to him, extending her hand out as she crouched down next to where he was laying.

Tommy’s heart instantly swelled at her offer, wondering how he managed to be blessed with a child who had such a pure soul. “I’ll get up on my own, love. Thank you though,” he politely turned down her offer, pulling himself up, out of the water then so that he was standing again.

“All better?” Thea asked, looking up at him now.

“All better,” Tommy nodded, sending her a smile, making one form on the little girl’s face.

The creaking of the door made Tommy glance up from the paper he was reading over. He decided that he’d take some time alone in his office after the incident that happened at the pond. He brought the newspaper down to his lap when he saw that (Y/N) was in the doorway. He smiled at her, silently waving her over.

(Y/N) listened, moving into the room and shutting the door behind her. She waited until she was a step or two away from him to finally speak. “Thea told me about what happened at the pond today,” she said softly, testing the waters to see if he wanted to talk about it or not. Tommy was always hit or miss when it came topics such as these. She didn’t want to push him if he didn’t feel comfortable with it.

“She told me about my pants and shoes then, eh?” he asked, chuckling slightly he rubbed the back of his head. He looked down at his lap as his smile faded, thinking back to what had happened earlier. “It was just loud sounds, love. They happened at the same time and…” he trailed off, exhaling the rest of his breath as a sigh.

(Y/N) sent him a sympathetic smile, knowing how tough it was for him to express these types of things. The fact that he even began talking about it was a rarity. “I know,” she began, catching herself before continuing, “well I don’t actually know, but…”

“I know what you mean,” he cut her off, seeing that she was getting ready to talk herself into a circle. “I’m fine now…got over it pretty quickly once I realized Thea was there. She helped me,” he told her, sending her a closed-mouth smile.

“She didn’t think much of it,” she informed him, smiling back, “just thought it was funny that you got wet.”

Tommy chuckled at her statement, waving her over to sit with him. (Y/N) obliged, happily taking a seat on his lap. “Thanks for checking on me,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck before he pressed a kiss to it.

“Of course, love,” she smiled at him before she rested her head against his shoulder.

They sat in the comfortable silence for a few minutes before Tommy spoke again: “maybe I ought to go take Thea fishing again,” he mused, his hand brushing lazy circles against her swollen abdomen, “she really seemed to like it.”

“You should,” (Y/N) answered, nodding the best she could with her head rested against his shoulder, a smile forming on her lips.

“Maybe I’ll even take this one out there too,” he continued, referring to the child that would be born any day now.

“Even better,” (Y/N)’s smile grew as she lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his lips.

So I got a but carried away with this one 😅 I hope you enjoyed it!

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

[diazsdimples]

hi wonderful person!

can you please bless us with some eddietommy of the buddietommy (or anything really) you're writing? 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

have a good day/evening/night

-<3

Hello friendly anon!! I certainly can! Thank you for asking about this wip btw cause it's now my favourite one sfdkjsd. This fic is technically Buddietommy in the sense that they're in a relationship with Buck, but it's focusing solely on Tommy and Eddie's relationship

By the time they’re out on the highway, Eddie must admit that maybe Buck was right. He’s been worried for a while now that Buck was the glue that held them all together. That he and Tommy were good, but without Buck, could they be great? But now that he’s here on the open road with Tommy, wind in his hair as the breeze streams through the Chevelle’s open windows, he realises he needn’t have worried. It feels good – no – it feels right to have Tommy here by his side, their fingers tangled together over the gear shift as they blast towards Malibu. They’d decided to take the Chevelle after having finally finished work on it a month back. Tommy’s grin when it had finally roared to life after had been so wide it was a wonder his face hadn’t split in two, and Eddie had to kiss him about it. Now, the brand-new orange paint job sparkles in the mid-morning sun as it speeds down the Pacific Coast Highway, and Eddie couldn’t be prouder if he tried. This car was the fruit of his and Tommy’s labours, something the two of them had done just for themselves. It seemed fitting that they bring it with them today. “What you thinking about?” Tommy asks, breaking the silence. His eyes don’t leave the road, but he runs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles, a gesture that never fails to make Eddie feel like he’s been filled up with helium. Eddie shrugs, sticking his free hand out the window. The wind whistles through his fingers and he dips his hand, making wave-like motions. “Not much,” he replies. “Just… enjoying this. Enjoying us.” He takes a deep breath and looks at Tommy. His hair is longer than usual, curling up at the edges and around his ears, the curls fluttering in the breeze. The sunlight catches the freckles that are scattered across his cheeks from his recent attempt at tanning and Eddie can see a sparkle in his blue eyes. He feels something in his chest loosen. Buck had been right. They needed this. Tommy must feel his gaze, because he glances over and smiles at Eddie. It makes his nose crinkle, one of the most truly endearing traits Tommy possesses.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

I Can't Say Part 2

Summary: An Earthquake turns everyone's world upside down and nearly takes part of Eddie's away from him.

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Reader, Hurt, Earthquake, Injured Reader, Blood/Blood-loss

Requested?: No   

Word Count: 4,136

A/N: Our grand total of words for this trilogy is 11,325... I'm ngl was kinda stuck on how I'd get from break up to make up but then I was rewatching season 2 the other night and well... Earthquake it is. Anyways, hope you enjoy the read! Love to all! Requests are Open!

[ A/N: him so purtty... ]

Part 1

--- Your POV --- 

Groaning, I silence my alarm and drag myself to my bedroom to change clothes. I really wish I had changed out of my work clothes last night because it is so uncomfortable to sleep in jeans. I opt for a more comfortable outfit for today since I'm just taking Talia to therapy. My jeans are replaced by sweats, my LAFD t-shirt by an oversized hoodie, and I yank on my high tops to finish it off. 

As I make my way to the kitchen for coffee, with a pit stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth, I throw my hair up into a messy bun and check my phone that had miraculously stayed in my back pocket all night. The smell of coffee fills the air as I swipe through notifications which include a few random info dump texts from Buck that I hadn't checked yesterday, a missed call from an unknown number here and there, and a few texts from Tommy checking in on me.  

After closing out all the notifications and apps, I find myself staring at my home screen and fidgeting with my bracelet. Glaring back at me is a photo that Buck took in which Chris is sandwiched between me and Eddie as we both hug him. All of us are smiling brightly and my heart hurts at the reminder of my boys. My thoughts are racing when my alarm rings again. I quickly silence it and tuck my phone away before pouring a cup of coffee. As I head out the door, I grab my keys and wallet off the counter. 

A good bit later, I'm arriving at Talia's house. I had finally convinced her to let me pick her up if she wants me to drive her to therapy. I shoot her a text to let her know I'm here, forcing myself to ignore my home screen. It only takes a few minutes before she's rushing out of her house and getting in the passenger seat, "Sorry, I woke up a bit late." 

I smile, "All good, you should probably brush your hair though," I respond, motioning to the bird's nest atop her head. 

As I pull away from the curb, she flips down the visor and giggles at herself in the mirror, "I slept hard last night." 

"I can see that," I state, unable to withhold a laugh. Talia has made so much progress in the past week. This is only her second appointment but I can tell a huge difference; she's actually smiling again. She had taken some time off work because she was scared it would either push her over the edge or she wouldn’t be as focused as she needed to be on the job but yesterday, she said she thinks she’ll be ready to get back out there soon. 

She grabs my phone from the cupholder, "What kind of music are we feeling today?" 

I shrug, "Whatever boats your float." 

She erupts into a fit of laughter, "God, I will never stop thanking Tommy for blessing us with that phrase."  

I grin as I remember the time a very exhausted, end of shift Tommy responded to the question, "Where do you guys wanna eat?" with, "Whatever boats your float." I'll never forget the look of pure astonishment on his face when he immediately realized what he said and mumbled to himself, "Boats your float? What the fuck?" Talia and I teased him about it for weeks after but it got stuck in my vocabulary and became a regular response for me, causing Talia to giggle and Tommy to roll his eyes every time I say it. 

Talia cranks the volume up as she decides on a hip-hop playlist and starts singing along horribly on purpose. This goes on for a little bit, with me giggling at her the whole time, before she finally turns it down, "Alright, what's up with you?" 

I tilt my head at her, "What do you mean?" 

"I mean not too long ago it was always Eddie this or Christopher that," she pauses, "You haven't mentioned them in like forever and I kind of miss seeing the smile on your face when you'd talk about them." I shrug and train my eyes on the road ahead. She doesn't give up, "Come on, (Y/N). You've let me trauma dump on you for weeks now. If you need to talk, I'll listen." 

I take a deep breath, "We broke up." 

"What?!" her volume and pitch nearly bursts my eardrums. 

I dramatically cover and rub my right ear, "We just decided that it wasn't gonna work out." I hate lying to her but if she knew the real reason she'd blame herself and I don't want to upset her. 

"So, it was mutual?" her tone says she doesn't think so. I can't even bring myself to nod. She reaches over and tugs lightly on my bracelet, "I could see keeping the bracelet if it was a mutual break up. That kid means the world to you but-" She picks up my phone and shows me the home screen, "Mutual break ups don't keep photos of their ex as their home screen. People who get dumped do." It's quiet for a couple seconds, "Besides, last time I heard about Eddie, you were asking me if I'd be your Maid of Honor when you guys got married one day. Not if! When." 

I internally cringe as the words spill out of my mouth, "Okay, he decided it wasn't gonna work out." 

I see the look on her face out of the corner of my eye and she still doesn't buy it, "You mean the man who would fight the entire world for you? The man who would kiss the ground you walk on and bow at your feet? The man who absolutely adores the shit out of you and can never stop staring at you like he can't believe you're real?" I clench my jaw but her phone rings, saving me from having to come up with a response. 

A short time later, I am parking on the curb outside her therapist office. She hangs up the phone and grabs my shoulder, "First of all, we're not done talking about it. Second, you should come sit in the waiting room instead of wasting your gas." Praying she won't try to continue the conversation right now, I turn the car off and get out, following her inside. 

We ride up to the second floor in the elevator, check her in at the front desk, and take seats in the waiting room before she speaks again, "So, how's Tommy doing? I heard he's got himself a new boyfriend."  

I smile and nod, laying my head on the back of my chair, "Yeah, Buck. I work with him at the 118. They're very happy together." 

"Oh, that's great! What's Buck like?" she asks. I'm certain she's trying to fill the silence without talking about Eddie. 

"If I had to sum him up in one sentence I'd say, there's a reason the team and I call him a golden retriever," I answer and look over at her with a grin. 

She laughs, "Oh my god, tell me more." 

"Well, he's got a heart of gold and loves his job. He's got tons of energy. He's always got something interesting to talk about because he's constantly researching random shit. One time, he gave me an in-depth explanation of how microwaves work," I pause, "Tommy is absolutely wrapped around his finger. I don't think I've ever seen him smile more than when Buck is info dumping on him." 

I sit up, holding my hand up to quiet Talia as she's in the middle of gushing about how adorable that is and how she must meet Buck asap. I stare at the floor beneath us as its small vibrations turn into violent shaking, "Quake!" Everyone in the waiting room ducks for cover. Talia and I slide under a coffee table just as rubble starts falling around us. Quickly covering our heads with our arms, we brace for impact. 

When the quake subsides and the dust settles, Talia and I make eye contact as we hear other people panicking. We shove the slab of concrete off the edge of the table and make to get up but instead have to army crawl under another slab of concrete. Keeping my head low, "I sure as hell don't miss this," I grumble, thinking back to my days of army crawling through muddy obstacle courses and sandy war zones. 

Behind me, Talia chuckles, "What? Earthquakes or army crawling?" 

I pause and look back at her, realizing it has been a while since our last quake, "both," before proceeding cautiously. Our short tunnel opens up into a pocket that is a good bit taller and has more space to maneuver. "Everybody just stay calm. If you're panicking, we can't properly assist you," I announce to those who were blessed by the pocket. 

"Please! Please, you have to help her," a young woman cries by the furthest edge from us. She is hunched over another woman whose legs are pinned by a chunk of debris. 

"Talia, check everyone else over and get a head count while I try to figure out the safest way to get her out," I instruct. 

Behind me, Talia shuffles toward the others, "On it," as I head for the debris. 

"Stay with me, Penny," the younger woman begs as Penny groans in pain.  

I finally reach them, "Penny, my name is (Y/N). I need you to tell me where it hurts." 

"Everywhere," Penny mumbles and I mentally slap myself. 

"Okay, yeah. Stupid question, I'm sorry. Can you wiggle your toes?" I respond. 

I notice the younger woman's name tag that reads Chelsea as Penny answers, "Yeah I think so." 

"Alright, that's a good sign. Chelsea, I need you to see if you can find a piece of wood or something that is big enough for her to lay on," Chelsea nods and begrudgingly leaves to scavenge. 

I drop to my stomach and scoot closer to Penny, "We're gonna get you outta here, I'm just a little more limited on resources than usual." I take her hand in mine and drop my forehead to the floor with a thump. My head is pounding; I think I hit it on the underside of the coffee table earlier. I'm having a hard time thinking straight.  

I remember Bobby's advice for times like this, "Don't worry about the things that you can't do anything about. Focus on one task at a time." Alright, first task, get Penny free and on a makeshift back board. 

I check her pulse, it's weak but steady, "Penny, I need you to focus on your breathing, okay?" She nods, taking deep breaths, as I look up at the debris that is pinning her. It looks like a thick and heavy wall but doesn't appear to be supporting anything. I crawl to where her legs disappear out of sight and stick my hand under as far as I can reach, feeling for any bleeding and thankfully finding none. I crane my neck to look at the others, a few are assisting where they can as Talia checks everyone over. "I need as many hands as I can get over here!" I yell across what remains of the waiting room. 

Talia stops what she's doing and points to few men who look to be in pretty good shape considering the circumstances. She directs them to me before squeezing a little girl's hand tightly and joining me herself. As they approach, Chelsea comes hobbling around a corner with a piece of wood.  

When everyone is there and ready for instructions, I start dishing them out, "You guys," I point to the men, "spread out around this wall and get ready to lift." I roll over on my back and scoot until my shoulders are even with the edge of the collapsed wall, "Talia, Chelsea, as soon as this wall is up enough, pull her out as gently as you can and get her on the wood." Once everyone is in position, "On the count of three. 1... 2... 3..." I push as hard as I can against the underside of the wall. The men help lift from their positions and soon they've pulled Penny out. 

"You get out from under there, we got this," one of the men insists.  

I nod and roll back over on my stomach to shove myself up to my feet and away from the wall, "Let it down easy." They do and now I'm left trying to figure out my next task. I scan the pocket looking for any possible exits. A pile of rubble blocks the door to what I hope is still a somewhat functioning stairwell. It will take some time to clear the way enough to get the door open but it's our only shot. I notice the massive receptionist desk is still somehow standing making a decent place for everyone to take cover for the inevitable aftershocks.  

"Talia, help everyone get under the reception desk," I look at the men who are patiently waiting for further instruction, "You guys are gonna help me get that door open," I punctuate my sentence with a point at the door. They nod and immediately head that way, as do I. Behind me I hear Talia start instructing the others. Once everyone is under the desk, Talia joins us in the small bit of headway we're making. 

--- Third Person POV --- 

The 118 is heading toward a downtown building collapse. Despite knowing it's futile, they've all tried contacting various loved ones. Buck sighs in relief as he hears Tommy's voice on the radio, "This is 127 Pilot Kinard. 118 please check in." 

Immediately, Buck grabs his radio, "Buckley checking in. Nash, Diaz, Wilson, Han, and Panikkar all accounted for." 

It's quiet for a split second before Tommy asks, "(Y/L/N)?" Buck hesitates, looking over at Eddie who has been staring out the window ever since he gave up on trying to reach Chris and (Y/N).  

Voice shaky, Buck answers, "No contact. She's off duty." 

Tommy's voice sounds strained, "Copy. Y'all stay safe." 

Buck responds, trying to sound reassuring, "We will." 

As they near the building, Eddie nearly slams his head against the window as he looks back behind them. "Woah, what?" Hen asks across from him, startled by his sudden movement. 

Eddie whips his head around to look at his team just as the engine parks next to another one from the 133, "That was (Y/N)'s car!" He flings his headset off and scrambles out of the vehicle as everyone else piles out behind him. 

Buck catches up to him and grabs his shoulder when he stops in front of a crushed car, "A-are you sure? She's doesn't exactly have a unique car..." Eddie only points at the shattered windshield. As he spins and takes off toward Bobby, Buck looks to where he pointed to find the rubber duck wearing firefighter gear that he and Tommy had helped Chris buy for (Y/N) on her last birthday. Chris had insisted the duck needed a cowboy hat so they also bought a small Toy Story Woody action figure. Woody himself was sitting at home on one of Buck's bookshelves but his hat now laid beside the little duck in the pancake that was formerly a car. 

--- Your POV ---

I wipe the sweat and dust off my face as I hoist another chunk of debris to the new pile we've made. We've made a decent size dent in the blockage but it's still not enough to get through. As the ground begins to tremble again, Talia yells, "Aftershock!" 

I turn and attempt to make it to the desk with everyone else but a bout of dizziness takes me down. I feel a blinding pain as something punctures my lower back close to my left hip. I look back to see a piece of rebar sticking out. When everything stops shaking, Talia rushes over to me. I try to get up but the rebar has me staked to the floor. She presses her hands against my blood-soaked hoodie, "(Y/N) you better stay with me!" I try hard to focus on my breathing as she yells at the men to keep working on the blockage and calls Chelsea over to her, "I need you to keep pressure around this, okay?"  

Talia drops to her stomach, face to face with me, "How bad is it? Be honest." 

I wiggle my toes and reach around to feel exactly where the puncture is, "Shouldn't be too bad. Main concern is the bleeding. Thank god for love handles because I think that's all it hit." 

She nods, "Alright, hang in there."  

Talia returns back to Chelsea who whispers, "She's losing a lot of blood." I hear fabric tear and feel my hoodie lift up. I'm sure Talia is trying to stem the blood flow as much as possible by sandwiching fabric between my hoodie and skin. I lay my clammy cheek against the cool floor and look out at the wreckage. It's starting to get hard to breathe and my vision is already blurry. 

--- Third Person POV --- 

Just as Talia finishes packing fabric around the rebar in her friend's abdomen, another aftershock hits. The others rush to the desk and Talia tries to move to cover (Y/N)'s body as much as possible but one of the men pulls her away, "You can't save her if you take a chunk of concrete to the dome." 

Talia screams, "(Y/N) don't you dare leave me! Stay awake, okay?!" 

As soon as the shaking dies down enough, Talia rushes back to (Y/N), who is now losing even more blood, and adjusts the fabric to accommodate what is now a bigger hole. "(Y/N), you still with me?!" she screams, panic is evident in her tone. She looks over to see that her friend is unconscious, blood trickling down her forehead.  

Chelsea joins her, tearing off a piece of her shirt and pressing it to the gash near (Y/N)'s hairline, "She's still breathing but barely." 

Talia nods, finishing with the pile of fabric, "Swap with me." The two swap places before Talia shakes (Y/N) gently. She softly smacks her cheeks, "(Y/N) you gotta wake up! Please..." Tears flow freely down her own cheeks now as she looks up at the ceiling, "God you wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me..." 

As she continues her attempts to wake (Y/N), one of the men shushes everyone, "I think I hear something," he announces, pressing his ear to the little bit of the door they had uncovered. "It's voices!" he cheers, "Help is here!" The room erupts into excitement as the man bangs on the door, "In here! Hey! We're in here!" 

On the other side of the door, the 118 team hears the banging and rushes up the stairs as carefully as they can. Bobby yells, "We hear you! This is Captain Nash with LAFD. How many of you are there?" 

From (Y/N)'s side, Talia whips her head up and yells back, "10! Firefighter down! One of yours!" 

Panic blankets the team and Bobby has to grab a hold of Eddie to keep him from busting the door down, "We don't know what's on the other side of that door," Buck places a hand on Eddie's shoulder so Bobby can turn back to the door and find out what they're dealing with. 

The man answers Bobby, "A pile of rubble! We've been trying to clear it because (Y/N) said this stairwell is our best bet on getting out." 

Eddie's heart leaps into his throat at the confirmation that it's her. Buck's grip tightens, warning him to calm down. Bobby instructs, "Okay, I need everyone to get away from the door. We're gonna have to saw our way in." 

The man looks down at (Y/N) and Talia, "We can't move (Y/N), she's staked to the floor by rebar. I think if I try to pull Talia away from her again, she might murder me." Buck's ears perk up at the mention of Talia. Maybe Tommy was onto something there. He shoves those thoughts aside as Bobby asks for the saw in his hands.  

"Alright, the rest of you back away. Talia, do your best to shield her," Bobby responds, "Let us know when we're clear." 

In the room, everyone puts plenty of distance between them and the door as Talia covers (Y/N)'s body the best she can, "Clear!" 

Buck drags Eddie away as he and the team back up to give space. Bobby cuts a large enough hole in the door before handing the saw to Chimney, "Buck, help me with this." Together Bobby and Buck remove the metal chunk and as soon as he has a clear shot, Eddie rushes through the hole. Hen is right on his heels, med bag in hand, as Talia moves away from (Y/N) to let them work. 

Bobby, Buck, Chimney, and Ravi set to work helping the others out of the building as Hen grabs Eddie's frantic hands, "You need to calm down, Eddie." 

He takes a deep breath before placing two fingers on (Y/N)'s wrist, "Pulse is steady but dangerously weak." The two medics set to work doing their best to stabilize her. When Buck and Bobby join them, she has an oxygen mask on, IV line in, a pulse/ox monitor on her finger, and Hen is keeping pressure around the wound. 

"What do we got?" Bobby asks firmly as he crouches beside Eddie, placing his hand on the distraught man's shoulder. Eddie can only stare down at her, repeatedly brushing her hair out of her face as he silently begs her to wake up. 

Hen answers, "Vitals are steady but in the danger zone. She's lost a lot of blood. Rebar isn't too close to any vital organs but it went all the way through and into the floor." 

Bobby nods, "We transport her with the rebar. Eddie, lift her up as gently as you can. Buck, hand me the bolt cutters and lift on the other side. Hen, keep pressure on that wound and an eye on her vitals." Everyone nods as Chimney and Ravi return from helping the last of the others out with a back board. On the count of three Eddie and Buck lift (Y/N) up enough that Bobby can cut the rebar underneath her. Once they've rolled her onto back, Hen quickly sets to work dressing the untouched side. In minutes, they're lifting her onto the back board and headed out of the building. 

As they approach the scene commander, Bobby states, "We need an ambulance now." 

The commander nods recognizing (Y/N), "We've got more on the way take the 133's." Bobby leads the way toward the 133 ambulance. Behind them, the commander yells, “I still need hands on deck, Nash.”  

As Hen and Chimney load (Y/N) into the back, Bobby looks at them all, “I know we’re all worried about her. One driver and Eddie can go. Everyone else needs to stay here.” Talia takes a few steps back from the group as Eddie climbs into the back and Hen heads to the front. She looks up at the collapsing building and around at the firefighters and paramedics rushing around near them.  

She looks back toward the ambulance as Bobby calls her name and holds his hand out to help her into the back. She’s still nervous about getting back out there right now but she knows she can be of more help here than at the hospital blaming herself for (Y/N)’s injury. She steps up beside him, ignoring his hand, “Got an extra turn out?” 

Before Bobby can ask if she’s sure, Tommy runs up to them already wearing turn out gear and carrying an extra, “Heard you guys are down by two.” He sees (Y/N) in the back of the ambulance and he feels a touch of anger in the worry that settles in his chest as Eddie frets over her vitals. Bobby shuts the doors of the ambulance and gives it a few knocks before it pulls away. 

He turns to Tommy, “Shouldn’t you be in a helicopter?” 

“Commander radioed for extra hands and I’ve been grounded. Our station got hit pretty hard and took my ride down with it,” Tommy answers. He turns to Talia, offering her the extra gear that she can see her last name written on, “I had a hunch you’d be here so I grabbed your old gear before I left.” She takes it and quickly puts it on, looking to Bobby for orders. 

Part 3

More 911

Main Masterlist

[lemotmo]

Bless her heart 🫠

Q. From a PR standpoint what would be the purpose of the official 911 account responding directly to so many comments hinting at Buddie? And gay/queer Eddie?Isn't that highly unprofessional? It's not like they don't have audience members who don't want to see them together.

Q. I'm sorry but Ryan and Oliver are just cringe. I get it they like one another and everyone is clearly having fun with mustache stuff but it's officially over done now.

Q. As far as the audience is concerned Tommy is Buck's canon relationship and he is the one they should be pairing with Oliver for promotion. ABC isn't doing anything to discourage the Buddie nonsense and it will backfire on them when the Buck/Tommy relationship is solidified in season 8.

Q. God Oliver and Ryan are going to be insufferable aren't they? Filming runs thru March, ugh. We get it you want your characters to bang. Stop rubbing it in.

Q. Everyone involved in this garbage should be ashamed. Buddie is not canon and until it is no one, especially the shows PR, should be leaning so heavily into them for promotion.

A. Rip to my ask box 😭. I will say I'm genuinely surprised by the number of comments they directly replied to. The Eddie Mercury one was definitely brow raising. I'm stunned they replied to that comment. That being said though Oliver/Ryan and Buddie was 95% of their entire PR campaign last season and they were the number one show on the network. Number one show in their timeslot. It worked. They're absolutely going to do it again, especially if Buddie is actually going canon this season. And you're correct, anon they're doing nothing to discourage that conversation. Some of their replies are actually only going to fan the flame. But they knew that when they chose to reply. And they replied to them in a way that would make people talk. They know what they're doing. But they do have to be careful. All implications are it's happening. But if they don't do it then t's absolutely queer baiting and it will cost them dearly. But I think they're well aware of that and it's why I don't think that's what's happening here.

Yes there are audience members that don't want them to be canon, but there are far more that do what them to be canon. Oliver and Ryan clearly want it. And they're not cringe, anon. Nearly 22,000 likes in a little under two hours is impressive . That is a quick clip. Their audience likes Buddie. Their audience likes Oliver and Ryan. You all are in the minority. And frankly it's not content for you. Your opinions of it are irrelevant. He's not there, anons. Deal with it. You'll get something small at some point, maybe, unless he isn't coming back at all. But your time is nearly up. You're going to have to settle for your imaginary content for now.

Thank you Nonny!

Ali, how are you holding up? Everything okay? Make sure to drink a lot of water and take a break when you need one. If you need a new keyboard after replying to all of those asks, we can start a GoFundMe for you. We'll make it happen. Trust. :D LOL!

Seriously though, if it all becomes too much, take a break okay? This must be a lot to handle.

Yeah, the social media team never really interacts all that much. They did now. That must mean they were told to interact and hype up the viewers. Another way of promoting the show.

But I do agree that they need to pull through with Buddie after all of this and all of the Buddie promo they did last season. There is no way back after all of this. I have no doubt that they will pull through though. It's glaringly obvious at this point that is where the story is going.

Buddie has been around for 6 seasons now. It has drawn in a big audience. Even the more casual fans of the show would like to see Buddie happen. The BT fandom is very small and most people of the general audience have already forgotten about Tommy, but they haven't forgotten about Eddie. They have eyes and see the same things we see. They can draw the same conclusions. They just aren't as openly passionate about it as we are.

Season 8 is our season.

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If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[theylooklikehumanbeings]

"All you have to worry about is some stupid tape" Tommy Lee x reader x slight! Pamela Anderson (Part 1?)

MDNI! content warnings: Angst, sexual themes mentioned, swearing, talking about past abuse, sorry ya'll Tommy Lee isn't going to be the nicest in this lol.

Part two

read my A/N at the bottom alrighty thanks.

Summary: Y/N is filling in as a backup singer for Motley Crue on their upcoming album. Tommy Lee has been pissed lately because their new album isnt going well and on top of that his sex tape with Pamela Anderson has been leaked. Y/N meanwhile is living with an abusive boyfriend so getting this gig with Motley Crue would be able to help them out of their home. However, what happens when homelife is meeting studio life..?

Y/N sat down in the little lounge chair in the center of the studio. Today was once again another day where both Vince and Tommy were late. You really couldn't care less though they were always busy doing something else than being in the studio making their own fucking album... On the bright side you got to get away from home. Right now you'd probably be getting yellled at for something minut and insignificant. That's when the door flew open.

Tommy Lee, the biggest baddest drummer and sex maniac himself walked in. He looked around throwing his hands up "whats up with studio B?!" he yelled out. Nikki and Mick both doing their own things respectively looked up. Nikki got up and sighed approaching Tommy. He carefully set a hand on his shoulder. "Studio A's full..." Tommy stared at him for a moment "By fucking... who?" he said. You looked at him like you'd looked at your boyfirend before... you noticed that fire in a man's eyes. That one when they are really... really pissed.. It sent a shiver down your spine. You hadn't even noticed when a figure was in front of you. Mick Mars the legendary guitarist of Motley Crue and the man who had taken up the role of being the oldest member was standing in front of you. He looked concerned as he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder. "Hey kid... you alright?" he asked with a concerned frown. "You spaced out real bad, I tried getting your attention..." You looked up at him as your eyes softened. Bless his heart.. he was conerned for you... "Yeah... Yeah I'm sorry Mick just thinking..." you tried laughing it off. You brushed back your hair as you looked up at him.

Mick didn't seem so sure however as he looked at you. He still seemed concerned but silently nodded as he sat next to you. He grunted as his back was still aching up. He silently watched as Tommy stormed out of the studio with Nikki following behind. "Tommy's off his rocker..." he mumbeld to himself. You looked over sort of curious and confused. You knew something had been happening with Tommy but you had no idea what it was. "What's wrong with him..?" you asked both catiously and curiously. Mick looked over at you as he grabbed a bottle of water. He cleared his throat and took a drink. "Well... it's not really for me to tell but... you know he's married right? To Pamela Anderson?" Of course you knew, you were pretty sure the whole country knew. "Yeah of course, Baywatch girl" you said looking over at him. "Exactly" Mick said as he took another drink. "Well, they got their safe stolen awhile back... in that safe there was a.. certain tape..."

You stared at him a bit puzzled for a minute. "Like home movies or something..?" Mick scoffed and let out a quiet chuckle. "Wish it was like that..." You stared at him for awhile until it hit you... oh... how had you not heard about this?? You really weren't into watching the news though and defintiely weren't allowed to go looking for those types of tapes... Your boyfriend would probably backhand you if you brought one of those home. "So, it got leaked?" You hesitantly asked Mick. Mick nodded drinking down his water. "Yup, it's everywhere... and it's really getting to Tommy and Pam... plus they lost that baby awhile back..." he said quietly. You frowned hearing him.. no wonder Tommy was acting out... it was almost like nothing was going right for him... Mick leaned up and pat your back gently. "Don't worry about it though... I'm sure everything will get settled and he'll be back to the stupid little piece of shit he is...." He smiled trying to give you some hope.

You smiled back at him. He was always so kind to you, the other gusy were too but Mick more especially. That's when the door flung open and Tommy walked in. He looked most definitely pissed. "I guess were Elektras second choice band now guys!" he yelled and went over knocking over some symbols on his drumkit. You felt yourself jump at the noise. "Fucking Third Eye Blind?! who the fuck is that?!" he yelled as he kicked the drums. Mick got up carefully holding his back "Tommy, calm down, man". Tommy stared at him a deep frown on his face "We sold over 100 million fucking albums Mick!! and they treat us like were fucking dog shit!" he yelled. He crashed down a symbol. "Breaking their fucking equipment isn't going to help, Tom" Nikki said walking over.

Tommy glared at him but reluctantly stopped. He dropped to the ground and sat there. "Fuck... nothing's going right... Vince isn't here, My sex tape is leaked and Pam... Pam's been really stressed.." he siad holding his head. You stared down at him. You felt bad for him... It brought back memories from a time not so long ago...

1990

You stared at the tv. You gripped your shirt as you bit your lip. MTV was on and was playing the latest Motley Crue concert that happened not long ago in Los Angeles. Vince had just gotten on stage and raised his fist to the crowd as the crowd screamed out for him. You let out a giggle imagining yourself there in the crowd. Thats when the camera panned over to a certain someone. Tommy Lee was banging on the drums a goofy looking smile on his face. You felt something you hadn't before. Seeing his eyes linger on the camera. A feeling of butterflies started to fly in your stomach.... You had watched for so long you hadn't seen the figure behind you. Your boyfriend came over and immediately shut the TV off. You looked at the black screen for a moment before looking back at your boyfriend "Hey.. What... I was watching that-" You felt a hand on your arm lifting you up. "Really bitch? you wanna watch some fucking glam rock shit?" he said glaring down at you. You felt your stomach dropping. You flinched as he brought his hand to your cheek. "This is my fucking apartment.... and my fucking TV, I paid for it, I get to say what the fuck you are watching.. got it?" he said looking at you. You stared down at the ground as you felt the tears filling your eyes.

Tommy finally looked up to see you staring at him "What the fuck are you looking at? huh?". You finally got out of your trance as you looked him up and down. "Nothing... I'm sorry about... about everything..." you said looking at him sincerely. Tommy just stared at you. "You don't know what it's like..." You stared at him for awhile. You didn't know what it was like? Did he have to go home everyday and walk on eggshells so he wouldn't piss off his boyfriend? No, he has to worry about a fucking tape. You stared... hard... everything going through your mind you wanted to scream, to shout at him for. But you didn't. You never did. Instead you got up pulling out cigarettes "I'm going out.. for a smoke..."

Nobody protested as you stormed out of the room and out to the front of the studio. You stood there as you pulled out a Marlboro Red. You took out your lighter and lit it before taking a puff off the cigarette. Tears were threathening to fall down your cheeks. "You don't know what it's like..." The words stuck in your mind like a bad song. He didn't know what the fuck it was like... He was a fucking rockstar with everything anyone could ever dream of. A hot wife, nice cars, millions of dollars.... everything was at his fingertips. You, You had to go home to a drunk boyfriend in a shitty apartment and still come into the studio pretending none of that existed at home. You took a long puff from the cigarette as you glared before stomping it down. "Fuck..." you whispered as tears fell down your cheeks. You slowly fell down onto the floor and sat there. You buried your head in your knees as you started to cry.

Music came from somewhere causing you to look up. A car had pulled up. A nice looking one to. You got up wiping the tears from your eyes. You stared in both curiousity and confusion. The car stopped pulling right beside the studio. The door flung open...

"So I cry and I pray and I beg..."

Pamela Anderson stepped out of the car and immediately turned to you. She had on a baby blue jacket, a white tank top and some dark blue sweatpants. She looked at you like a concerned woman who lost a baby. You felt your heart stopping as you stared at her.

"Love me, Love me, Say that you love me..."

"Is Tommy here...?"

A/N: Hello everyone! thank you for reading. I would just like to say that this is kinda a experiment I was originally going to post this as just a oneshot but It would kind of make more sense to just start this as a series. Please let me know what you think in the comments I would love to know.

[joelsleftknee]

Part 2

pairing: Joel Miller!Reader | post-outbreak/ jackson era

WC: 2.6k

multiple part series: series masterlist

- part 1

content warnings: canon divergent obvi cause joel doesn't go golfing in this one, ANGST ANGST ANGST (literally wrote this cause there's not enough agnst to read out there), age gap (reader is around 28, Joel is 52), reader has hair and is shorter than Joel but no physical descriptions other than that, cute winter romance, bookworm reader, eventual fluff, eventual hurt/comfort.

(a/n): part 2 is here!!! thank you so much for reading! this is my first time writing here, so sorry if my formatting is kinda mid lol.

tags: @macaroni676 !!! :)

Joel half-heartedly untied the shoelaces of his leather boots before climbing the stairs to his room and getting in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin as the cold slowly seeped off his bones.

He spent all morning out on patrol with Harry, a twenty-something-year-old kid who’d joined Jackson just over a year ago. He had married one of the girls in town. Young and very pregnant, she had some coffee ready for both Harry and Joel before they headed out the gates.

As he sipped the hot drink, Joel couldn’t help the pathetic stab of jealousy that had him furrowing his eyebrows at the kiss on the cheek Harry received from his wife.

Harry had been in Jackson for such a short time, yet he had managed to build a life that seemed to make the damn Apocalypse worth living.

As for Joel… He tried to count his blessings. He really did.

He had Ellie, whom he loved more than anything. He had Tommy, and even Maria, who had become something like a sister to him.

But Ellie was building a life of her own, having recently moved into the garage and spending almost every day with Dina. And Tommy and Maria had each other.

Joel threw his arm over his brow, trying to block the shaft of sunlight that made it through the fraying curtains of his bedroom window.

Perhaps sleep would keep his mind off the pitiful downward spiral he was setting on. So he closed his eyes, lips parting with an exhale as he filtered off his thoughts. Exhaustion helped, and soon he was drifting off into an easy, weightless nap.

Joel’s rest was short-lived. Outside, excited squeals and laughter woke him about an hour later.

He grumbled against his pillow, pushing himself up on his elbows to try to blink away the sleep. He padded to the window, peering through the curtains.

It had snowed. In the past hour, Jackson had been covered in a thick blanket of freezing white. Now townspeople of all ages ran around making crumbling snowmen and snow angels. He spotted a couple of simultaneous snowball fights. If you could call the fluffy blobs snowballs at all.

He was scanning the crowd gathered downstairs all over the street, looking for Tommy.

Instead, he found you.

You were wrapped in a thick coat, head falling back in laughter as you watched Maria hurl a handful of snow at an oblivious Tommy, who turned around in shock, flakes clinging to his hair.

Joel closed the curtain, eyes catching on the books on his bedside table. The one you’d picked out for him a couple of days ago. And then two more—ones he’d found on patrol this morning.

He didn’t recognize the titles, but they seemed to be in pretty good condition. He’d initially planned to save them for later—a last resort excuse to go see you again. Still, he had scolded himself for even thinking that as he rode his horse back into the perimeters of Jackson this morning, lost in thought while Harry rambled about something beside him.

You were so young. And so beautiful. And so joyful and bright, that he felt that he was doing you a disservice by even staring at you for too long.

He was fifty-two years old, for goodness’ sake. Ancient in comparison. He was no better than a dirty old man. In fact, he was a dirty old man.

The realization hit him like a brick to the back of the head. He grabbed the books he’d found and stuffed them inside the squeaky bedside table drawer, slamming it close before darting downstairs. He pulled on his boots and his jacket, zipping it up to his chin.

Closing the door behind him, he stepped out onto a veritable winter wonderland.

“Joel!”

He turned his head to find Ellie jogging toward him, pulling a red-nosed Dina by the hand.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joel said, offering Dina a nod and a smile.

“Joel, you need to come to the hot and cocoa board game night,” Ellie started. “It’s tonight.”

Joel blinked, his gaze—unwittingly, of course—focusing behind Ellie and on the unnecessarily thick bright red winter coat you were wearing, still laughing beside Tommy and Maria.

Ellie waved a frantic hand in front of your face. “You listening to me?”

Your eyes met Joel’s. His heart jumped before he immediately looked back at Ellie, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement.

Joel missed the smile you flashed him.

“Did you fall off your horse this morning or what?” asked Ellie. “Tipsy Bison. Tonight. Hot cocoa. A game of Dutch Blitz. Get ready to be destroyed.”

Joel ran a hand over his face, fighting the urge to check whether you were still looking at him. “What time is this? You know I’m too old for these things.”

“Oh I know, you’re, like, a hundred years old,” Ellie said, earning a laugh from Dina, who added, in a stage whisper, “There’s also gonna be booze. Main reason I’m going.”

Joel scoffed, suddenly liking Dina more than he already did. “That might do it.” He pinched Ellie’s nose, who wrenched off his grip with a dramatic sneeze. “I’ll be there. But don’t expect me to be there all night.”

Ellie looked more than pleased. “I would never. You’ll have to go home and cry when I crush you at every game, anyway.”

Joel only shook his head, amused, as he watched Ellie drag Dina away.

Left standing at his front door, Joel’s heart almost stopped when he saw you walking up the couple of steps of his porch.

“Hey Joel,” you said, snowflakes clinging to your hair, catching the sunlight in an angelic aura.

“Hey,” Joel breathed, heart hammering inside his chest. “It snowed.”

What a stupid thing to say.

But you still smiled, chuckling as you said, “It did indeed. I actually came over because I heard from Harry that you found books on patrol today.” You looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I did.” Joel half-turned to go back into his house. “I can get them for you right now.”

You raised both hands, stopping him. “No need! You can bring them to me another time. I don’t want to expose them to the snow.” You gestured around you just as a shiver in response to the low temperature took over your body. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you smiled at Joel, and he thought it shined as bright as the ball of fire that is the sun when it rises every morning.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you continued, “for taking the time to find the books.”

Joel wanted to do a lot of things in that moment. Things like running his fingertips, calloused from years of playing the guitar, down your soft cheek. Things like running his thumb across your plump bottom lip, tantalizing him like forbidden fruit.

Instead, he nodded with an “It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” And before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are you going to the board game night tonight? With the hot cocoa.”

Joel gulped as your eyes widened. He had no business asking you, he realized. Would you catch on to his sorry crush on you? Could he play it off as just friendly fellow townspeople behavior?

“I’m planning to, hopefully,” you said. “Are you?”

Warmth spread in his core at the question, and his cheeks reddened in shame at the realization that he was so lonely that something so simple like this exchange could make his heart race.

“Ellie sort of bullied me into it,” he admitted with a nervous laugh. But suddenly energized by the prospect of getting to see you again, he added, “Though I figure it should be fun. Just somethin’ to do in this weather.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Tell me about it. I’ve been cooped up in the library the past few days, trying to organize things and restore some books. So I could really use a night off.”

Joel wished he could somehow get all your work done for you. Even though he had not one damn clue of what restoring a book entailed.

But you were too sweet and too soft to be stressed, he thought.

“Well, I’ll see you later Joel,” you said, bringing him back to earth. “And don’t hesitate to bring any clothes to me that mind need fixing, yeah?”

He nodded, recalling your deal. “I’ll see you later,” he said, unable to stop the timid smile stretching across his lips as he waved goodbye.

He watched you return to where you’d been standing, coming back to Maria’s side. Maria, who shot Joel a knowing smirk from across the street.

Not having even left the porch, Joel turned back inside, deciding he had had enough of the cold wind today. And, above all, wishing to hide from any eyes that could pick up on the slight trembling of his hands and the permanent red in his cheeks when he talked to you.

He was acting like a schoolboy. At the grown age of fifty-two. But he couldn’t help it.

Back in his room, Joel climbed in bed once more, in more age-appropriate fashion, shooting for a second nap to stop his mind from reeling through the hours until he saw you again tonight.

“Goodness,” you signed, resting your forehead on the pile of books on your desk that you were trying to classify.

After the snow craze had died down and everyone had gone back inside to their respective daily tasks, you came into the library to meticulously clean and dust off books.

Naturally, you’d been sneezing nonstop for the past hour, nose irritated from blowing it every other minute.

A box sat on the ground by your feet, containing many more books that the townspeople had donated, found all over their homes, tomes long forgotten through the outbreak. You had to go through those still.

You just wanted to be done.

The thing was, you loved your job. You had dreamed of working at a library, of living among books, before the outbreak even happened. It is nothing short of a miracle that you got to pursue your dream even after the world went to hell.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve gotten maybe a collective eight hours of sleep over the past three days. Maria keeps telling you to slow down, to take your time, and rest.

But you want this thing to work. And you’re going to work yourself to the ground if that’s what it takes. You’re hoping for a grand opening, even if the library and its books are already open and available to the public. You want to host a special event, nurture some enthusiasm for reading. Make it look cool.

You’ve had a few visitors ever since you opened the doors to your half-finished project last week. But with the weather and all, many prefer to stay inside instead of exploring what’s new in town. And you’ve pointedly asked Maria to not announce that the library’s open yet. Because you want that grand opening to be people’s first impression.

So here you were, at 10:57 pm, still paging through books, stacking tomes, and sneezing your brains out.

You wiped from your eyes the tears triggered by your allergies. Much to your dismay, you were already late to the board game night. You debated showing up anyway, but decided there was no point.

The reason you were going to begin with would probably be gone by them.

Joel Miller.

Tommy’s impossibly handsome, endearingly quiet older brother. One of your first visitors to the library. And someone you had been stealing glances at since the first time you saw him, almost a year ago, after your arrival at Jackson.

His hardened exterior and just the sheer size of him managed to draw everyone’s eye. You were well aware of all the other women in the commune who drooled over him, entrapped by the alluring danger that emanated off of him like a challenge.

But to you, he wasn’t dangerous. Sure, he was dangerous in the sense that he looked like he could kill any man in a matter of seconds. And in the sense that you’d heard of all his patrolling prowess. And of his many years of survival prior to his arrival to Jackson, the stories passed around like legends through town gossip.

But you knew there was more to him than that. Way more.

And you’ll be damned, but you wanted to know everything about him.

You were smart enough to know that you had plenty of competition. Because Joel was handsome beyond reason.

His rough features that softened when he smiled. The salt and pepper beard that made you go week on the knees when you saw him walking around town. His broad chest and shoulders—and the flannels that hugged him perfectly, so perfectly it was almost lewd.

You blew out a mouthful of air, snapping yourself back to the pile of work before you. You had no business thinking of Joel Miller this way.

He was beyond your reach. Mature. Experienced. Serious and reserved.

Much older. Old enough to be your father.

The realization had you closing your eyes and leaning back in your chair. There must have been something wrong with you because the thought made a desperate wave of warmth spread low in your stomach.

You had half the thought to put on the tight, long-sleeved shirt you had bartered for recently—funny enough, with the pathetic intention of catching Joel’s eye—and pulling up to the Tipsy Bison, down some liquid courage, and challenge him to a round of poker or something.

But you knew better.

You knew you would chicken out halfway through. And you knew there was no way Joel was still there. He had better things to do, you were sure. So even if he showed up to make Ellie happy and appease Maria, you doubted the hot cocoa and game cards would be enough to keep him for long.

Resigned, you returned to your books, pushing the image of Joel and his quiet smile away from your mind.

Joel left the Tipsy Bison at midnight. When the clock hit 12:01 am, he stood up from the table he’d been sharing with Ellie, Tommy, Maria, and Dina.

He had arrived early to the event. Both to have enough time to ease his nerves with the booze he disguised by pouring it in a mug and also just in case you’d arrive early, too. He sat facing the front door, and he watched it all night, waiting for you to walk through.

His heart raced every time a gust of freezing wind flowed into the room when someone walked in, expecting it to be you.

It was never you. And he felt like the biggest idiot in the world for having spent the entire night disappointed by your absence.

His mind couldn’t help but start making up reasons as to why you weren’t here. Maybe you took a nap and slept through the game night. Or maybe something had happened to you. What if you didn’t go because you knew he would be there, and you didn’t want to see him?

He had the brain to stop himself from wallowing into further dramatics lest he drive himself insane, but he could not help the false hope that popped like a balloon every time that door opened and it wasn’t you who walked in.

He waited. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d spent socializing for so many consecutive hours, but he was grateful that the people he loved made it more bearable.

He won enough rounds of Dutch Blitz to secure at least a month of immunity from Ellie’s teasing, and he managed to wipe off the sad puppy look off his face for most of the night.

He had no reason to be disappointed, he told himself. It wasn’t like you owed him your presence. He’d just met you, for goodness’ sake.

That still didn’t erase the pang in his chest as he walked back to his house after offering some help with the post-event cleanup and sharing a cup of hot cocoa that Ellie convinced him to drink.

He had brushed his hair and put on the cleanest, most presentable flannel he owned. He even groomed his beard and put on some cologne that Ellie had gifted him when he turned fifty-two.

He’d felt silly watching himself in the mirror, knowing no nice clothes and no amount of cologne could change the truth of his age. Or erase the reality of how undeserving he was of a sweet light like you.

Still, he figured that, even after so many years of pain and grief, an ember of hope lived within him, fanned by the past two years of living peacefully in Jackson.

So he had hoped to see you tonight, hoped to indulge in the knowledge that there still was beauty in the world, and that you were the clearest evidence of that.

With snow crunching under his boots and his shoulders slightly slumped in defeat, Joel went home.