#and a bit of the days after tommys chase

[marurumai]

ykw fuck it im gonna be honest. i have not watched a single dsmp stream, and i dont regret anything.

the fandom has shaped my knowledge of the dsmp. and honestly i wouldn't have it any other way

[ovaryacted]

HOMECOMING

PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: After a long day of patrol, Joel comes home later than he said he would be back. You are just happy to welcome him back into your arms.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Suggestive content - 18+. Established relationship. Soft & affectionate Joel Miller. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his late 50s, reader is 25+). Mentions of early pregnancy. Cute stuff. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.

A/N: Hey there, been a while. In case y'all forgot, yes I do still write LMAO. This is a little something that I wrote miraculously on my free time, and it is my first Joel Miller piece. I'm also slowly getting back into writing so pls be nice! I did originally write this with the new Pedro Pascal picture as Joel in mind, but I'm a gamer Joel type of girl at heart so that's what I went with. Hopefully, it is enjoyable for those who choose to read it. Any likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Night fell over Jackson, soothing and quiet as it usually was. You’d think after some time, you’d get used to the stillness that often consoled others in a world full of unsettling clicks and gunfire, but you found yourself troubled with the calmness that followed once the sun went down. The change of the seasons propelled a temperature shift outside; bitter winter exchanged for the rebirth of spring, which hopefully meant the sun would stay in the sky just a little bit longer.

Your face nuzzled into the pillow beneath you, the material not yours to claim, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. Digging your nose further into the bedding, you subconsciously chased the faint scent of pinewood and gunpowder, one of the few things that eased your anxiety. It was a smell you got used to recognizing over the past few years, not that you’ve been keeping count.

Despite the warmth the sheets provided you as you rested on the left side of the bed, your body felt cold, missing a familiar set of strong arms and a welcoming chest pressing up against you. He had told you before he left for patrol that he’d be back before sundown, that was the plan anyway. But you knew better than anyone that stepping outside the protective gates of Jackson always left room for the unpredictable.

In the haze of your dreams, you faintly heard the click of the front door opening and closing, the floorboards of the stairs creaking with the ghost of muted footsteps. You stirred in bed, ears trained to pinpoint the noise, yet too stubborn to wake up entirely. A breeze entered the bedroom before you sensed something else sharing the space.

That’s when you felt the phantom touch of plush lips skimming along your hairline. If you weren’t awake then, you certainly were now.

“Joel?” A call of his name equivalent to a whimper at the sudden contact you craved. You caught the slight intake of breath and the exhale that followed.

“It’s me darlin’. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Joel spoke quietly, the peaceful baritone of his voice awakening you fully. As you sighed, you met his tired gaze with your own, bruised knuckles raising to brush your cheekbone affectionately.

“Things went okay on the patrol?” You questioned him, pleased that he was here with you in one piece rather than focusing on the fact that he came later than you’d like.

“Yeah, had to check something out with Tommy to be sure before coming back. I’m sorry honey, didn't want to make you stay up for me.”

Even if it was unintended, Joel felt guilty whenever he didn’t stick to his word. He was not much of a virtuous man, lived a large part of the past two-plus decades giving less of a shit about honesty and ethics. But when it came to you, it killed him when he couldn’t follow through on his promises, even if things weren’t within his control. The last thing Joel wanted was to upset you or make you worry, but no matter how many times he reassured you of his return, you still tried your hardest to wait for him to come back home, back to you.

“It’s okay, I’m just happy you’re here,” you blinked slowly as his voice filtered through the lagged mess of your head. Leaning your face towards his hand, you kissed the inside of his palm. “Go freshen up and come to bed; I’m cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled with a smile at your forgiveness, parting from you for a second and heading to the bathroom, not planning to make you wait any longer.

You watched his silhouette from where you lay on the bed, fluttering your eyes closed at the sound of running water. When the door opened again, Joel’s broad figure returned wearing a worn-down flannel and some fleece pants he had snagged long ago.

“Scoot,” he jutted his chin to gesture to the right side of the mattress, your side, suggesting to reclaim his on the left. Shifting to the right, you let him slip into the bed feet first, hauling the sheets to cover the both of you. A bulky arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you close to him, your body molding to his like a missing puzzle piece.

“Not too far now,” Joel grinned as you nestled right into his warm chest, seeking his attention and attempting to siphon more of his warmth. It takes you off guard how your nerves instantly settled once you had Joel near you again. In his arms, that was where you belonged—protected, loved, safe.

“I missed you,” you mumbled, eyes shutting to breathe in his typical musk. One of his hands cradled your lower back, thumb running circles into your skin.

“I missed you too, darlin’. Too damn much.” Joel kissed your forehead, drawing lines up and down your back with his fingertips.

His hand moved again from behind you to the front of your body, palming your stomach protectively. A smile crept up on his face as he felt your tummy under the material of the flannel you stole from him, the only thing you preferred for pajamas. The gentle curve of your belly was not yet prominent enough to be overly detectable, but he knew what you carried. Precious cargo. That’s what he called it after you both adjusted to the shock of adding to Jackson’s current population count.

“Still feelin’ sick?” Joel asked you in the room’s darkness, his eyes shifting to watch over your facial features. The moonlight illuminated the edge of your jaw and the roundness of your cheeks, and his chest ached at the thought of witnessing other growing changes over the next couple of months.

“Sometimes. It bothers me, but nothing I can’t handle.” You reassured him the best way you knew how, having to rely on Maria’s advice for all things related to childcare and Ellie being your new overly protective guard and nurse when Joel wasn’t around.

If someone had told you that you’d find yourself alive after the apocalypse in a safe community and pregnant at that, you’d consider them crazy. Yet here you were, carrying a man’s child when you least expected it, a man years older than you with memories of a reality you couldn’t experience or remember. But you didn’t mind; the end of the world didn’t leave much room for strict morals anyway.

Make the most of it. You don’t know when you’ll miss something once it’s gone.

Joel had told you that after the first few patrols you had with him once you adjusted to Jackson, growing comfortable with the stoic and quiet man who grabbed your attention everywhere he went. He shared stories of a time before the world fell apart, discussing things like watching the sunset, listening to music from artists you’ve never heard of, and sweet treats he missed tasting. Things changed after the seventh patrol together, where you saw him smile for the first time after successfully hunting some game for the town.

That night, one thing led to another. It started after some drinks, a hungry and messy kiss on your doorstep that led to clothes on the bedroom floor, and hands pawing at one another. You woke up the next morning with an arm wrapped around your waist and his nose rubbing the back of your neck.

Simply put, you haven’t left since.

“Oh, I know. Can handle a whole lot, strong woman you are.” Joel taunted you a bit, his memory fleeting momentarily and recalling the spitfire you always were with him in particular. He could never seem to tame your spunk and attitude, but he grew to love it like the rest of you.

“Mhmm, real strong, if you ask me.” You held his gaze with a gleam of mischief, bringing your body closer to his wide chest and tilting your chin upwards, silently asking for more than a cuddle.

“You tryin’ to tell me something I don’t already know?”

“I don’t know. Am I?” You were a tease, always have been, jerking Joel’s chain more than he cared to admit. 

“Those hormones are messing with your head, darlin’. Got you acting feisty,” he smirked, shifting nearer to your face.

Curious hands reached up to curl through his thick, graying curls. The contrasting streaks along his temple became more noticeable as time passed, matching the graying beard you’ve come to love and adore. He hesitated to let his hair grow out initially, thinking he’d look too much like his younger brother. Much convincing later, paired with hiding the shears, you got the desired result, and now you were lucky enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

The kiss was velvety as it was intimate, your tongue lining his bottom lip before he groaned, granting you entrance into his mouth. You swallowed the rumble he released, drawing a path of your touch from his neck down to his lower abdomen. Antsy fingers itched to skim the waistband of the fleece that concealed him, reaching close to the hardness you felt before he seized your hand away.

“Aht aht, no. As much as I want you there, it’s bedtime.” Joel didn’t necessarily want you to stop. Hell, if it were up to him, he’d let you go to town on him however you wanted. But his energy levels were dwindling, and all he wanted to do after a long day was get some proper rest with you in his arms.

“But-”

“Sweetheart, if you let this old man sleep, I’ll wake you up to a real nice surprise in the mornin’.” It was an effortless proposition, easy to keep you at bay until the next day and enough to curb your insatiable appetite.

“Promise?” You beat your lashes at him, knowing the last thing Joel would do was deliberately not provide for your needs, even if that meant having to keep up with you physically.

“Pinkie swear.” Joel gave you another peck before letting you get comfy against his chest once more, cuddling into him as much as your growing belly would allow without being squished. You started to drift off as sleep called to you, listening to the gentle rhythm of soft beating in your ear.

“Breakfast too, Miller.” You murmured to him, peeping how he laughed in the dark with his eyes closed. The pleasant and lively sound made you smile and your heart pound. 

“Oh, I’ll feed you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

The peace in your bedroom matched the serenity that fell over Jackson. Now that you had Joel wrapped around you, you didn’t mind how quiet it was. So long as you have him, you can handle anything that comes your way.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[reginamillls]

just something I wrote after seeing the pics of THAT gladiator costume

have some bucktommy + halloween/domestic thing

***

When Tommy comes in he notes a pair of white sneakers at his door and hears the TV on, playing a documnetary about deep ocean creatures. And he feels lighter despite just coming off of a 48.

Coming home to someone waiting for him, gives him energy it seems.

The only thing Tommy can see from his entrance looking into his living room is a pair of socked feet hanging off one end of his love seat with an apple flying up into the air and back down and Tommy walks into the kitchen to get dinner started.

"I'm thinking maybe we could do something classic," Is what Tommy gets as a greeting. "Maybe movie monsters that go together. A vampire and a werewolf."

"Hello Tommy, it's nice to see you Tommy, how was your shift?" Tommy playfully mocks from the kitchen, leaning against the counter. That gets a huff of laughter and soon Evan is sitting up, revealing messy curls and a sheepish smile.

"Hey babe," Evan says as he turns to face Tommy then, and taking a bite of his apple. "How was work?"

"It was fine," Tommy answers and he steps into the living room and bends down, kissing Evan sweetly in greeting. He tastes a little bit like the apple he was eating and Tommy can't help but smile against his lips. He'd been nervous giving Evan a key to his house, but those nerves were chased away by the reality of getting to come home to see Evan relaxed on his couch, wearing a worn sweatshirt with a hole at the collar and looking like he belongs in Tommy's space. "So there's costumes?"

"Work is throwing a thing," Evan says. "And I thought, maybe we could dress up?" He asks then adds. "I saw you had off on your calendar."

"I wouldn't be opposed," Tommy says. "I don't know about a werewolf and a vampire though. It gives me Twilight."

Evan gives him a blank look and Tommy huffs. "One of these days we are going to get you to watch those movies. I'll get Howie to join me."

"Maybe we could be a cowboy and a gladiator," Evan suggests, ignoring the Twilight comment. "I still have my hat from my ranch days-"

"So I'm the gladiator then?" Tommy cocks an eyebrow, amused. "How come you've seen Night at the Musuem and not Twilight?"

"It's a movie about a museum coming alive at night," Evan counters. "That's awesome."

"Fair," Tommy agrees and he rests his hands on Evan's shoulders and begins to massage them. " So a couples' costume? I'm guessing ketchup and mustard wouldn't work?"

"If you want to be boring." Evan huffs and then lets out an appreciative moan when Tommy digs his thumb into one of the knots in Evan's muscles.

"How about something we both know?" Tommy suggests. "Star Wars?"

"You can - oh that's the spot," Evan says shifting on the couch again. "You can be Han and I can be Luke."

"Why do you get the lightsaber?" Tommy asks, teasing.

"Because you're the pilot," Evan says. "And the vest would look great on your chest." He adds, tilting his head up and reaching an arm to pat Tommy on said chest. "Plus you have several white henleys."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that and moves his hands up to Evan's neck, causing the other man to drop his hand and lean into Tommy's massage, his eyes shuttering close.

"Are you going as blue lightsaber Luke or green?" Tommy asks and Evan hums under his hand, thinking about it.

"Green," He says. "Luke looked good in that black outfit."

"He did," Tommy agrees, remembering a younger version of himself who had been very into Luke Skywalker and the hopeful way he looked at life.

He's always had a type.

"I was more into Han myself," Evan says and he opens up his eyes and takes one of Tommy's hands and kisses his knuckles. "I guess I have a thing for pilots."

And what can Tommy do but not lean over the couch and kiss Evan properly?

Their costumes can wait till later.

So can dinner.

[sourholland]

timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

[kinardgo]

bucktommy / tevan prompt: drive, car/vehicle, hands

i literally cannot see the words "bucktommy" and "hands" and not instantly get weird about it so uh. sorry. if you're not into short, kinda horny oneshots. thank you for the prompt!!! <33

bucktommy / rated m / mild and implied sexual content / prompts open

-

Buck never gets out of the city, these days.

That's an over simplification, of course. Sometimes he does. Calls out of the city. Assists out of county. But it's been a long, long time since he made it out of LA for anything fun. And, this? This is fun.

The early evening has made a painting out of the North California landscape, streaming past them like so many brushstrokes. A sky in pink and lilac, trees tops in black shadow. Tommy, pretty as a picture, pretty as he always is with his hands on the wheel and his eyes forward.

Jesus, Buck has never wanted anyone so much in his life.

"You're staring."

"You're gorgeous."

Tommy huffs, but doesn't tear his eyes away from the road.

"You know I could watch you do this for hours."

"You have been watching me do this for hours," Tommy reminds him, mouth a sly smile, "Except for that powernap you took after lunch."

"You want me to take the wheel for a bit, babe?"

The same smile that always crossses Tommy's expression when Buck callshim babe appears. It's a soft little thing, but it's one of his favourite things in the world.

"Nah, there's only an hour left. Besides, I wouldn't want to deny you your favourite spectator sport."

It's true, it is. Maybe not in the way that Tommy thinks, maybe Tommy doesn't get it at all, actually. Buck likes to watch him. Watch him drive, watch him cook, watch him shave. Watch him nap on the couch after along shift, watch him comb his hair back before one. The confidence in his walk, the set of his shoulders, the surety of his hands.

His hands.

The same hands that are on the wheel that have pulled people out of burning buildings have washed Buck's hair in the shower. They've piloted helicopters, and cooked dinner for the two of them. They've patched up burns and lacerations and concussions in the field, and touched Buck the way no one else has ever quite managed.

Tommy flexes his hands, palms sure on the wheel.

Something stirs in Buck, a sense memory tucked into the joints of his wrists, the swirl of his fingerprints.

Buck stretches out in the passenger seat, a pleasant warmth settling at the base of his spine, a tingling in his gut, his fingertips, his legs.

There's a little sweat gathered in the fabric at Tommy's collar, where it's trickled down his neck. There's a drop of it tracing a faint red mark there, just under his hairline. Too faded to show any trace of what caused it, but Buck knows it was his teeth.

Buck runs a hand up his thigh absently.

"Evan," Tommy says warningly, but there's a touch of amusement in his tone, too.

"What?" he says innocently.

"You know what."

"Nope," he grins, "You look good."

"You look like a distraction."

"You can handle it."

"If I crash this car, and someone phones 911, you do realise neither one of us is ever going to live it down, right?"

He knows. He can practically see Chimney laughing his ass off already, hear Hen cackling. They gave him enough shit when a photo of Tommy appeared in his locker, a perfectly innocent picture of his boyfriend passed out cold on the couch in Buck's apartment, Jee-Yun beaming wildly into the camera after a day at a waterpark. Tommy's not wearing a shirt, because it got wet chasing Jee through a splash field. It's in Buck's locker because it's a great picture. No correlation.

"You flew a helicopter into a hurricane, I think you can manage the I5."

"You didn't have a hard on in the helicopter."

"That's what you think," Buck grins. He does now, easy and eager to go, like he's eighteen again, dick on a hairpin trigger.

"You didn't get enough this morning?" Tommy asks wryly.

This morning was slow and easy, still under the covers with the early morning light coming down on them like a blessing. Tommy's mouth on his stomach and his fingers inside of him, pulling an orgasm out of him like pulling on a loose thread - unravelling Buck into an incoherent mess.

"That was like eight hours ago-"

"It was maybe five, at an absolute push-"

"-and you just look so good sat there-"

"-I'm not doing anything!"

"-and I want you," Buck says, chest going warm at the way Tommy's mouth snaps shut and a blush starts spreading across his cheeks, "the way I always want you because you always look this good."

"We're gonna crash on the I5 and there's gonna be a pile up, and they're gonna check traffic cam footage and see that it's because I swerved into oncoming traffic, and when they ask me what happened, I'm gonna have to say it's because-"

"We're not going to crash, Tommy," Buck laughs.

"-because my boyfriend is insatiably horny," he interupts, louder, before glancing over at him. His eyes drop down to where Buck is rubbing himself through his sweats and he groans, a deep rumbling thing in his chest that makes Buck jerk helplessly in the seat, "and because he looks so good right now."

The satnav on the dash says there's still ninety minutes until they reach their destination, which is damn near an eternity. The thought of being confined in this car with Tommy, in a nice fitting t-shirt and shorts that have ridden up to expose a slither of inner thigh, for more than an hour feels impossible. Buck grinds into the heel of his palm, images of them pulled over at the side of the road, pressed together in the backseat of Tommy's old muscle car, or Buck bent over the hood, or leaning against the driver's side door with Tommy on his knees in front of him- They bomboard his imagination like firecrackers, every one of them vivid and alive like memories rather than fantasies.

Tommy's hand shoots out like a gunshot from the wheel to clasp his wrist.

He didn't realise how close he was to coming until his hand stopped moving.

"Jesus, Evan-" Tommy breaths out, his fingers like a vice, chest heaving, "You're trying to kill me."

"Whatta way to go though, huh?" Buck slurs. His hips are still twitching, even as he steps back from the precipice of orgasm. Everything is still so close, so hot, so intense. Tommy's jaw is so tight the muscle is jumping under the skin, but he lets go of Buck's wrist to lace their fingers together instead.

It's probably not the placating gesture Tommy wants it to be, not now that Buck's so worked up, not when it's Tommy's hands that have him writhing in the passenger seat of this car, Tommy's everything, really.

"Evan."

"What?"

"Quit it," he says firmly.

Buck grins, "Or what?"

"Or," Tommy says easily, "Every time I catch you, I'm adding an hour onto how long I'm making you wait when we get to the hotel."

That definitely doesn't have the desire affect, or it does. Buck can't tell over the wildfire that courses through him, caught between the desire to chase relief as soon as possible, and drag whatever game they've stumbled onto here out for as long as he can. Whatever shows on his face makes Tommy laugh, pull his hand back and put it back on the wheel.

-

(They make it to the hotel by the skin of their teeth, check in like a pair of maniacs on the run from the cops, then Tommy shows him just how serious he was about that three hour penalty by strapping his arms to the bed with his belt.)

-

(He only makes it two and a half.)

[scarlethexelove]

Can you please do a part 2 for we'll keep you safe. Maybe some nice domestic bliss. Maybe someone tries to ruin that.

Save You

Found on google

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2786

Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, Pregnant reader, Mentions of Birth, Assault (On Reader), Torturish (Being strapped down), Murder (Well Deserved), some fluff.

Part 1 We'll Keep You Safe

A/N: This one was fun to write. I liked coming up with idea's and enjoyed writing this. So I hope that everyone likes it. Definitely some touchy things with Reader being hit but nothing too bad. Really please enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The sound of popping and sizzling can be heard as the bacon is being cooked on the stove. You're mindlessly watching it cook, checking if the bacon is ready to flip or not. Arms wrap around your waist lifting your swollen stomach lightly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. A body pressing against you and kissing your neck. “Mmm fuck.” You lean into the body behind you. “Feel good detka?” Natasha asks from behind you. “Yes” You breathe out. Natasha kissing your shoulder and neck gently. 

“She has been hanging pretty low and I feel like I’m ready to pop.” You sigh the soft moment between you and one of your wives. This is your second pregnancy and it has been a rough one. “You need to relax and get off your feet.” Natasha says trying to guide you away from the stove but you're stubborn. You need to flip the bacon so that is what you do. “I need to finish cooking breakfast.” 

Both of your attentions are pulled away when you hear the patter of three quick footsteps. You look down the hall seeing Wanda chasing after the twins. “Come here you little rascals.” Wanda says scooping Billy into her arms but not quite able to catch Tommy. Billy lets out a giggling squeal as Wanda kisses all over his face. You break out into a wide grin watching the adorable interaction. She notices you smiling, setting the boy down and wrangling them into the kitchen. 

“Sit down boys, breakfast will be done soon.” You lean down kissing both their heads as they wrap around your legs nudging Natasha back a bit. “Ok Momma.” The boys say in unison as they quickly scramble into their chairs. Wanda gently pecks your lips before ushering for you to sit down with the boys. “You relax, I'll finish here.” You try to stop her but Natasha picks you up making you let out a squeal. “Natty put me back down. I was almost done. I can finish it. I’m pregnant, not  broken.” You try to argue with your wifes but they have none of that. “Sit, relax, we have this.” Natasha tells you as she sets you down in your seat. You huff crossing your arms. “Fine.” You give them a small pout. Nat leans down kissing your pout and then your head as she moves to keep the twins entertained while Wanda finishes cooking. 

You smile fondly as you watch Nat playing with the twins. Thinking of how you got here. What your life was like before they saved you. Some time after they took you from your wife they set you down to explain everything. Turns out they were the Avengers. You thought maybe it was a coincidence but was surprised to find out. Your so-called ex-wife was their mission. Turns out she was an assassin just like Natasha. You were her cover. All of it was fake, well of course all of it but the beatings you got from the woman. They were tasked to bring her in to help take down the red room. But they had fallen for you and when they saw what she had done to you that day they weren’t going to let it go so easily. Your ex put up a good fight but she was no match for Wanda, ending in her being killed. 

And that is how you ended up here with the best life you could have imagined. Two beautiful wives, two beautiful boys, and a little girl on the way. Your wives had retired from being Avengers shortly after you gave birth to the boys. Wanting to be around for you and the kids. Your life is perfect. 

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it.” You say as you use the table to help you lift yourself up. “Detka.” Wanda tries to warn you. “You are cooking and Nat is playing with the boys. I can open a door.” She relents, nodding her head to you. You make your way to the door, opening the door to find a woman standing there. “Hi, can I help you?” You ask the unfamiliar woman at the door. She says nothing as she quickly jabs a needle in your neck. Her hand clasping over your mouth to muffle any cries that would come out. The world around you starts to spin as your body feels heavy. Your vision fades black until your body drops. 

You feel groggy and your head is heavy as it hangs down. You blink your eyes open, lifting your head up. You try to move but your hands and feet are strapped to a table that has you upright. Your vision is blurry as you try to focus your eyes. Soon enough a man comes into focus. The man is taller than you, round face, gray hair, and glasses. He gives you a sinister grin as you focus on him. Your body is still feeling heavy. “Wh-who are you?” You mutter out. “Hmm I’m surprised my little widow didn’t tell you all about me.” The man chuckles. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he is. He watched you curiously to see if you could figure it out. But that is when it hits you. Natasha has told you about her life. Her life before the Avengers. “Dreykov.” You spit out his name like it is poison on her tongue. His grin just grew with approval. 

“So she does talk about me.” He says with a vote of arrogance. If you could, you would punch him in the throat. Beat him until he black and blue on the floor no longer breathing. But your restraints prevent you from even touching him. He can see the fire in your eyes and the desire to hurt him. He leans in close enough for you to smell his breath and feel it fan against your face. “I want what was taken from me and you're going to give it to me.” 

A wave of confusion washes over your face. He watches you with the smile never leaving his face. You think it over, does he want Natasha back? What can you do for him to do that? Will she come try and rescue you and sacrifice herself to save you. You have no clue what it could be. He gives you a little bit before speaking up again. “My precious widow left me. She had the perfect genetics to be the perfect widow. Highly skilled and one of the most efficient widows ever to go through the program.” He pauses scratching his chin. “But as an Avenger she won’t be so easily controlled anymore and I can’t risk the exposure. So I’ll settle for something, rather someone else.”  His eyes travel down to your stomach before looking back into your eyes. Your stomach turns at the realization. A wave of sickness overtakes you as you feel like you're going to throw up and you almost do. 

“Y-you can’t.” Tears start to well in your eyes. But the man doesn’t care, he is satisfied by your reaction. You don’t know how he knows that the baby is Natasha’s and that you're having a girl. Have they been watching you this whole time? Waiting for the right opportunity to strike. “I’m taking what I lost. She will be a part of a new age of widows. Enhanced, stronger and faster than ever.” He places his hand on your stomach and you fight against the restraints. “Get your fucking hands off of me you filthy disguesting pig.” You seeth. He slaps you across the face hard. The sting setting in as tears run down your cheeks. “My wives are going to find you and when they do they are going to gut you like the pig you are. You will never have my baby.” His actions are not stopping you. 

This time he lands a punch on your face. Your head whipping to the side. You look back at him smiling, blood running from the cut in your lips onto your teeth turning them a shade of red. “You think I can’t take a punch. Your other pathetic widow did it for you and hits harder than you. You weak pathetic man. Looks like you don’t even care that she is gone.” The man seethes at your words landing a few more punches. He stops your blood coating his knuckles as he takes out a white handkerchief. Gently wiping the blood off as he looks back up to you. “She was weak and deserved what she got.” 

You're not surprised by the man's words or reactions. Natasha said how short tempered the man was. You don’t know why you chose to talk back to him. Maybe in hopes that when Natasha and Wanda find you that they see you and kill him right on the spot. They have done it once for you and you hoped they would do it again. 

“Get comfortable, you're going to be here awhile.” He chuckles heading towards the door, knowing that in your position there is no way to get comfortable, only pain. “Hey fuck face. Your widow took me before I could eat some food and if you want my baby she needs food which means I need food.” You try to reason with him in some hopes of food. “Fine.” He waves his hand as he exits the room. Knowing that you are right as much as he would love to starve you to death instead. He then thinks maybe that will be what he does after you have given birth. 

A few minutes later a widow walks in a bowl in her hand. You can see the contents and they look like slop. Is this what Natasha had to always eat? Nasty slop that isn’t meant for human consumption. She walks closer to you not speaking words but holding up the spoon to your lips. You hesitantly take the lumpy food in your mouth. It is bland with a horrible texture but you need to eat something. You just hope your girls make it here quick.

Natasha and Wanda don’t take long to know you’re gone. They watch the camera’s to see that a woman has taken you and Natasha knows exactly who was behind it. She sees red. She is going to take him down once and for all. She won’t stop until all the widows are freed from under this tortuous man. 

They drop the kids off with Clint and Laura saying they will be back soon. “Mommy, Mama please don’t go.” Billy protests holding on tightly to Wanda. The boys don’t understand what is going on and where you are but if you're gone they don’t want them to leave either. “Mommy and Mama have to go save Momma.” Wanda kisses his head. “We will be back soon, I promise.” She tells the boys. Tommy is clinging to Natasha and she kisses his head. “Mommy and me love you very much and so does Momma. But some bad people took Momma and we need to go help her. Can you two be good for Uncle Clint and Aunt Laura for us. We promise to give you a big surprise when we get home with Momma.” Natasha explains. The boys nod their heads with tears in their eyes. Both women take turns giving each boy a hug and a kiss on the forehead before heading out. 

Natasha makes a few calls and enlist the help of her sister Yelena, her adopted mother and father Melina and Alexi. All of them vowing to take the red room down once and for all. Melina has the access to get them into the red room. So they use that to their advantage. 

You don’t know how long you have been locked up here. Your body aches painfully still strapped to the bed. A widow comes in periodically to feed you before leaving again. You tried to talk to them before but they stayed silent the whole time. You’re starting to lose hope that Wanda and Natasha are going to find you. Scared that Dreykov will get exactly what he wanted. To take your daughter and to form her into the most deadly widow of all time. Your cheeks are bruised and swollen as tears run down them. Your face is covered in dried crusty blood. They only bother to feed you and nothing else. You don’t want your daughter to grow up in this world and you know that neither of your wives would either, especially Natasha. 

Alarms blare as you hear explosions erupting from various points around the structure. There are more sounds of explosions, bullets, and movement of people on the other side of the door. You hear some fighting directly outside of your door. You don’t know if you should be excited or scared of what is to come. Soon the door slams open and a Blonde enters. She quickly shuts the door, holding a hand up to her ear. “I found her. East wing behind a large wooden door.” She then meets your eyes making fast movements towards you and she starts to undo your restraints. “Who are you?” You question the blonde as she undoes your ankles. “My name’s Yelena. Natasha is my sister and I’m here to help you.” She stands up undoing your wrist. “Nat has a sister.” You look at her a little hurt that you didn’t know. “Adopted sister, we were in the red room together.” She undoes your last restraint. Your legs giving out under you, Yelena quickly catches you in her arms and gently gets you to the ground. 

The door slams open and you see a frantic Natasha with Wanda behind her. Behind the both of them you see Dreykov wrapped in Wanda’s magic struggling to try and get free. But his attempts are futile. They both rush forward and see the condition you're in. Natasha takes you from Yelena and pulls you tightly into her arms. “I’m so sorry Y/n. I promised to keep you safe and I failed.” You can hear her sniffling as you bury your head in her neck. “You saved me.” Was all you could murmur out. 

 Wanda looks back at Dreykov, more red swirling in her eyes. Her magic wrapped up to his neck before snapping it. The sickening sound of the crack before her magic dissipates and his body slams to the ground making a thud. You jump a bit at the sound. But Natasha shushes you, rubbing your back. Soon Wanda is by your side as you start sobbing in relief. Wanda wrapping her arms around the both of you as you feel safe again in their arms. 

Your relief is cut short as sharp pain is felt in your stomach before you feel a gush of liquid between your legs. With the pain you were having all over you glossed over the repeating pain in your stomach. “Oh shit!” is all you hear from Nataha, the liquid also soaking into her lap. “What?” Wanda questions before Yelena cuts in. “Guys, we need to get a move on. This place is going down soon.”  But you ignore Yelena’s words. “I think my water just broke.” You say as another wave of pain hits you. “My water definitely broke” You groan gripping onto Natasha. “Oh shit!” You hear collectively from the three women. 

Natasha picks you up and carries you. Making your way out of the exploding base. Once you’re all outside you can see that you're up in the air and you're making your way towards a quinjet. Your contractions get closer together as you groan in pain. The women getting you and other women onto the ships to get everyone off safely. Melina and Alexi had freed the widows on the ship and were able to get the locations off the others around the world to release them from the red rooms' control. 

Once everyone is on the ships the Quinjet takes off. You’re not going to be able to make it safely back to your home or a hospital in time to have your baby. So with the help of Melina and Yelena you safely deliver your baby girl. Not without some yelling at your wives that they did this to you but they hold your hands and support you through all of it. Adding not just Liliya to the family but also Yelena, Melina, and Alexi. Your family grew larger than you expected it to today but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: You and Joel get to know each other better and the two of you share a private moment out behind the barn under the stars; an unexpected guest shows up to the party; Tommy gives Joel a second and final warning about you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) MENTIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. alcohol consumption, mutual pining and yearning, Joel sings to reader a bit (that is its own warning), soft Joel, overprotective Joel, and a slight hint of jealous Joel. Tommy seems like kind of an asshole but he’s just trying to look out for his brother, okay?

word count 6.6k

About an hour later, after tossing back about three or four bottles of Seth’s crappy beer, you’d started feeling a lot livelier and a lot more like yourself. It was a glass of his delicious, oak-barrel aged whiskey that you had wanted more than anything, but with Esther over at the bar openly flirting up a storm with Joel Miller, you pushed down the desire for scotch and settled for the bitter lager instead.

It tasted awful, but it did the job well enough. The best part was that the bottles of beer were all readily available in coolers all around the barn, and you didn’t need to go up to the bar to get one. 

The last thing you’d wanted was to find out what was going on between Esther and Joel.

“And the next thing you know, poor John is being chased all around the chicken coop by a bunch of broody hens!” Martha finishes her story, throwing her hands up in the air. “God, I wish I would’ve had a camcorder in hand. It was the funniest thing I ever did see in almost two damn decades.”

Everyone sitting around the table bursts into a fit of loud, hearty laughter.

“Oh okay, so then that would probably explain why there weren’t many eggs in stock at the market the other morning,” you tease, only fueling the commotion.

John glares at you, and you shrug innocently, fighting back another laugh. Six foot two with big, broad shoulders and arms, you found it both very difficult and very amusing to picture the bulky blond man being chased around by a flock of pissed off chickens.

“I’d really like to see any of you guys try and take a broody hen’s eggs away from her with ease!” John huffs out before taking a gulp of his beer. He’s red in the face, and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Assholes.”

Martha leans over, whispering, “See? I told you it would make him mad.”

You giggle, lightly shaking your head at her. “Talk about ruffling some feathers, huh?”

She snorts into her plate of potatoes, jabbing her elbow into your side. “Let’s stop before he really gets all riled up, or else we’re going to get an earful.”

“Oh come on, John. Lighten up,” you grin over at him from across the table. “I know what’ll make you feel better. You guys want to hear a really, and I mean really embarrassing story?” You pause for a second or two, just long enough for everyone to nod eagerly. “Let me tell you about what Stella did to me the other day in her stall when I tried to take her temperature, it was absolutely awful. Okay, so there I am about to—”

“Sorry to interrupt you folks, but do you all mind if we steal this sweet little lady here for just a minute or two?” The sound of Tommy Miller’s smooth, deep voice causes you to stop abruptly mid-sentence. You glance over your shoulder only to see him approaching the table. He’s closely followed by Maria, who had traded her usual patrol duty attire for a light blue denim dress that sat off of her shoulders, the flowing skirt falling just above knees. Her white cowboy hat matches her husband’s.

“Aw c’mon, Miller! She was just about to tell us a story!” Peter, Martha’s husband, exclaims as he drapes his arm around his wife’s shoulders

Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I promise we won’t keep her too long, alright?”

You immediately notice that he’s holding a drink in each hand, each glass filled almost to the rim with a bold, rich amber liquor over ice. The only reason that you’d immediately known one of the two drinks was meant for you was because Maria had just discovered that she was pregnant. It was still a secret that very few people knew about, but the minute she confirmed it with a pregnancy test earlier that month, she’d come running to your door to tell you. It’s the reason she’s been avoiding booze all evening—she’s been sipping on lemonade all night instead. 

“Excuse me,” you nod politely to the group of friends you’d been sitting with and stand up from the table. You follow Tommy and Maria over to a far corner of the barn where the three of you could talk somewhat privately. Accepting the glass from Tommy, you offer him a grateful smile, pleased that you’d gotten the drink you had wanted after all. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” He nods and tips the brim of his cowboy hat to you in his typical, gentleman-like manner. He’d never lost an ounce of those Texas manners.

Maria loops her arm through his. “Well, it looks like tonight was a real success,” she states as she glances around the room, her pride written clearly across her face. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Absolutely,” you agree, enthusiastically. You smile again and lift your glass to the couple as you toast, “Another year and another success. Here’s to many, many more to come.”

“Cheers to that, little lady,” Tommy grins and lifts up his glass, clinking the rim of it to yours before taking a generous drink, nearly draining it in one single gulp. “Thanks for stoppin’ by earlier and helpin’ set the place up, by the way. We really appreciate it.”

You wave your free hand at him. “Oh, no need to thank me at all. You already know that I was more than happy to help out,” you tell him as you take a careful sip of whiskey. The hard liquor burns its way down your throat in the sweetest way. Taking another sip, you turn to look at Maria, unable to help yourself from admiring her gorgeous, natural glow. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” Maria replies with a smile, placing her free hand over her flat stomach. At only a few weeks along, she still had quite a long way to go before she began to show. “Just a little bit of morning sickness here and there, but so far, so good.” She pauses and leans her body into Tommy’s side. “I never thought I’d be having a baby in my forties,” she muses with a laugh. “I thought that train had left the station a long time ago. But I guess life had something else planned for me.”

“For us,” Tommy corrects, playfully nudging her.

“For us,” Maria echoes, giving him a loving kiss on his cheek. “Luke calls it a geriatric pregnancy. He told me I’m automatically considered high risk, due to my age and all. But we’re hoping it’ll go smoothly.”

You detect the genuine concern behind her optimistic smile and reach out, gently touching her arm. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine. You just have to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself and getting plenty of rest.” You point a finger at her, wagging it back and forth. “So, that means no more patrol duties for you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh I know,” she laughs again. “I’m on light work duties starting next week and in a few months, it’ll be strict bed rest for me. At least, that’s what Luke recommended, but I’m hoping to stay on my feet for a little bit longer than that.” She tilts her head curiously to the side as she looks at you. “Speaking of Luke, is he around? We haven’t seen him at all tonight.”

Throat bobbing, you grip your glass tightly in your hand. The corners of your mouth threaten to turn downward, but you manage to hold your smile well enough.

At this point, you had pretty much lost track of the number times you’d been asked about Luke.

Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do you think there’s a chance he’ll show up tonight? Can’t you go home and convince him to join us? 

You just about loathed the way he was considered to be a hero in Jackson. The way that every single person in the community adored the man to pieces made you sick to your stomach—Luke was anything but a hero, but nobody knew that. Not a single soul knew the real him, the monster that emerged behind closed doors, the terrible things he did when no one was around.

There had been an occasion or two where you had considered going to Tommy and Maria about it, to tell them all about the horrors that went on within the walls of your home. But even when they’d point out a bruise on your arm or a scrape on your cheek, you would lose the courage and chalk it up to a clumsy accident or injuries sustained while on the job—hell, just a few months ago, you’d blamed an injured shoulder on Ranger, telling Tommy that his beloved stallion had accidentally kicked you during one of your routine examinations. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it hadn’t been his horse who put you in a sling for three weeks, it had been Luke. But how the hell could you do that?

Luke is the commune’s physician. The commune’s only physician. 

Besides the two older nurses who worked in the clinic along with him, he was the only medically trained professional who knew how to treat severe injuries, perform minor surgeries, and diagnose illnesses—as much as you hated to admit it, Jackson needed him. If you told Tommy and Maria about everything that he’d done to you over the last two years, then you’d risk getting Luke locked up in the town jail, or possibly even thrown out and exiled from the settlement. What would that mean for the people in the community who fell ill or became injured and needed a doctor?

Maybe he wasn’t a hero to you, but to everybody else, he was. People could die without him and his medical knowledge. Hell, Maria would need Luke now more than ever now that she was pregnant.

For as much as you wanted to tell them the truth about him, you just couldn’t find the guts to do it, not when the decision would impact every single person in Jackson.It would be too selfish.

So, you kept quiet and continued to let it happen because what else could you do? 

Nothing. 

There wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it.

Tommy says your name, snapping you back out of your thoughts. “Hey, you alright?” he asks you as he gingerly touches your shoulder. “You zoned out on us for a minute there.”

You blink. “Yeah sorry, I’m alright. Um, Luke decided to stay at home and get some rest,” you reply as you shift awkwardly from boot to boot, feeling a sudden heat flood your face. “He’s been working a lot of hours at the clinic and making house calls as well, so he’s just been really tired, you know?”

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Maria frowns. “Tommy and I were hoping we could say this to the both of you together, but I suppose you’ll have to give him the message on our behalf when you get home to him later tonight.”

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What is it?”

“We know we don’t say this as often as we should, but you and Luke do so much for us. So much for Jackson,” Tommy says, sincere gratitude dripping from his tone. “We’re damn lucky to have the two of you here. Me and Maria, and everyone in this community, we’re all deeply indebted to both of you for all you do.”

You stare at him. “Everyone here works very hard, Tommy—”

“Now, I ain’t saying they don’t,” he interrupts you by holding up his hand. “But let’s be honest here. Luke, he takes good care of all of our people, you take good care of all of our horses—people and horses, that’s what keeps this place runnin’ like a well oiled machine and you know it just as well as we do. Without the both of you lookin’ after our two most important resources, I ain’t all too sure where the hell this place would be.”

Maria nods in agreement with her husband and squeezes his arm. “Oh, don’t be so modest,” she remarks upon seeing the bewildered expression on your face. “He’s right. And we need you to know how much we appreciate everything the two of you do for this community.”

Tommy grins, raising his glass in a toast. “To you and Luke.”

Stomach churning, you flash them your very best smile and lift your own glass, clinking it against his and then to Maria’s bottle of lemonade. “Well, I will certainly give him the kind message when I get home tonight. Thank you.” You take a quick sip of your drink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The room feels hot, like it had been lit on fire and you were standing too close to the flames. “It’s starting to feel a bit warm in here. I’m going to go outside for a minute to get some fresh air. Excuse me.”

Before either of them can utter another word, you spin around on your heel and hastily make your way across the barn towards the exit, being careful not to bump into the dancing couples on the dance floor along the way. Even as you hurried out, you’d caught sight of Ellie sitting with Dina at one of the tables, digging into her plate full of barbecue. Dina had leaned over and whispered something into Ellie’s ear and Ellie let out a loud, obnoxious cackle through a mouthful of food.

Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but smile—an actual, genuine smile this time around.

At least Ellie seemed to be having a good time.

That’s more than enough for you.

Joel glimpses over Esther’s shoulder. 

His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and concern as he watches you practically run out of the barn alone with a drink clutched in your hand and a strange expression on your face—you appear to be upset over something.

The blonde in front of him had been going on and on about where she was from, although he hadn’t quite been listening to her the entire time she had been talking—or at all. 

Had Esther said Vermont? Or maybe it had been Virginia?

Joel wasn’t all too sure, but he didn’t care enough to ask her to clarify. Besides, his thoughts were far too busy preoccupied with someone else. Someone he needed to make sure was alright.

“Listen Esther, s’been real nice talkin’ to you,” he states as he offers the woman the most polite smile he can possibly muster up for her. He tries to ignore the awkward way she’d pouted her lips at him, a sad, disappointed look flashing in her eyes. “But I’ve gotta go and take care of somethin’ for a minute. Will you excuse me?”

He doesn’t even give Esther the chance to respond. Setting his drink down on the counter, he gives her a quick nod goodbye and steps around her. He starts towards the barn’s exit, but before leaving, he tosses a quick glance in Ellie’s direction just to make sure she’s still doing okay without him. He had been keeping a close and watchful eye on her from the bar the entire time. After a while, it soon became apparent to Joel that Ellie had been doing just fine. She’s scarfing down another heaping helping of bison and potatoes, grinning from ear to ear as she talks with Dina, who seems to be enjoying her company despite her poor table manners.

Joel steps outside into the night and he takes a look around, searching for you among the small, scattered groups of people who stood mingling with one another. Gossiping women, drunk and rowdy patrolmen, children running around—he jumps slightly as a giggling little redheaded girl who can’t be older than five circles around his legs with a curly haired boy who is about the same age chasing after her. He lightly shoos them away from him and they take off running in another direction.

He scans his surroundings once more.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Humming, Joel glances down.

He notices a long trail of footprints left behind by what had to be a pair of cowboy boots, similar to the ones you’d been wearing. The strange way in which they veered off in a random direction away from the rest of the crowd tips him off almost a bit too easily—he knows they belong to you. Without giving it a second thought, he starts to follow your tracks and they lead him all the way around to the back of the barn.

That’s where Joel finds you, leaning against the wooden paddock fence. You’re back is to him, your head tilted upwards. Your gaze seems to be lost somewhere up in the velvet, purple night sky and you’re swaying along to the pretty country melody that, even outside, can still be heard coming from inside the barn.

Turn around, a sound voice in the back of his mind tries to reason with him. Go go back inside.

He ignores it, his legs moving forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching on the rocks in the dirt as he draws closer to you causes you to jump. Whirling around, you gasp and your free hand flies to your chest.

“M’sorry,” Joel quickly apologizes, holding up both his hands to show you he’s not a threat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Joel?” You’re surprised to see him.  “What are you doing out here?”

The area out behind the barn is just as dark as it is secluded, however, the moon is full, big, and bright, its silvery glow illuminating each and every single one of your features in such a beautiful way that it makes his throat go dry, just like it had earlier that evening when he’d first seen you in that dress.

“Well ain’t that funny. I was actually just ‘bout to ask you the same exact question, darlin’.” He falls into step beside you, leaning back against the fence. “What are you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

“Oh, I just needed some fresh air, that’s all,” you reply with a small, light shrug of your shoulders. You turn back around, leaning your forearms on top of the wooden fence, both hands wrapped firmly around your glass of whiskey. You’re standing so close to Joel that your shoulder touches his, though neither of you make a move to put space in between your bodies. “What’s your excuse?”

“Needed a breather from Esther,” he confesses. 

It was partially the truth. 

He couldn’t tell you he’d really come outside to check on you.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you like her?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all,” Joel says, letting out a chuckle. He shakes his head. “She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight, y’know?” He pauses for just a brief second and crosses his arms over his chest, his sudden change in position causing his shoulder to press even closer against your own. “Tommy mentioned her to me when we were havin’ lunch together yesterday. Said he’d be willin’ to set us up, but I didn’t think his dumbass would actually follow through with it.”

Confused, you shoot him a strange look.

“I’d told him I wasn’t interested in meetin’ her, but Tommy’s always had a real habit of not listenin’ to me,” he remarks, shaking his head once again.

The question falls from your lips before you can even think about trying to stop it. “Why aren’t you interested in her?” you blurt. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and add in a nonchalant tone, “Esther’s gorgeous, Joel. Most guys around here would jump at the chance to be with her.”

“S’like I told you. She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight.”

“So then, what kind of company are you looking for?”

Joel hesitates, then answers honestly. “Yours.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart skipping a nervous beat.

He tests the waters. “That alright to say?”

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to utter.

Fighting to take a steady, even breath, you clutch at your glass even harder. 

“Y’know, when I was on my way out here, I saw Ellie and Dina still sittin’ together,” Joel finally says after a minute or two, breaking the silence. “She honestly seems to be havin’ a real good time with her.” He nudges your shoulder with his own, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turns to you and asks, “Now tell me why I’ve got this strange little feelin’ that you had somethin’ to do with that?”

Your immediate expression of guilt prompts his grin. 

You’d been caught red handed.

“Okay, so I may or may not have talked to Dina earlier today while we were setting up the barn for the party. I asked if she could do me a favor and at least try and talk to Ellie tonight,” you admit, sheepishly. “I told her about how much Ellie reminds me of her, and how I thought they would get along.” You feel his dark eyes fix themselves intently on you and the heat creeps to your cheeks as you continue to explain yourself to him. It’s only just now occurred to you that perhaps you should have ran the idea by Joel—he’s her guardian and the last thing you want to do is cross his boundaries. “It took a little convincing, but she agreed. Dina can still be quite shy sometimes, but she’s a really good girl, Joel. I promise.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “Really? You did that?”

“Yeah. I did.” Anxiously, you take a long sip of liquor before adding, “I hope that’s okay.”

“‘Course it is, darlin’. I really appreciate you doin’ that for Ellie.” Joel’s gaze softens and meets yours with genuine sincerity. “I appreciate everythin’ that you’ve done for her. It means a lot to me. More than I can probably even explain.”

“I can tell how important she is to you.”

Joel nods. “Ellie’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He stops, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “She’s been through a whole lot—a hell of a lot more than anyone her age should have to go through.” Once again, he pauses momentarily, trying to keep his emotions in check. He swallows harshly and subconsciously leans closer towards you without realizing it. “Ellie, she ain’t my blood, but she’s my daughter. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t take care of her. I thought that I didn’t have what it takes to protect her.”

“And what about now?”

“Now that we’re here, I feel real different ‘bout it all. I finally feel like I can keep Ellie safe, y’know? Give her the life she deserves,” Joel states, sounding a bit relieved, almost like he’s only just now made the realization that things are different now—it’s not like it was while they’d been out on the road. Each day isn’t a fight for survival, a game of trying to stay alive long enough just to see the next. Sleeping in the dirt, watching her go hungry, seeing her have to wear the same dirty clothes for weeks at a time, those were all now things of the past.

Pulling yourself back from the fence, you glance up at him with a curious expression. 

“Ellie hasn’t told me all that much about what she’s gone through—about what either of you have gone through.” You catch sight of the worry that flashes in his eyes and reassure him, “And I don’t plan on asking because it isn’t any of my business. But in the short time I’ve gotten to know Ellie, I’ve already seen it in her eyes, Joel. It’s all there.”

“What’s there?”

“Every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Joel hangs his head. “Jesus.”

And just like that, he somehow feels like a fucking failure all over again.

“I know that you’re worried about her, Joel. I don’t blame you, but you’re doing all that you can do,” you remind him, the kindness in your voice bringing him the warmth and comfort he’s been needing for far too long. “You’re here in the community now and she’s safe. That’s what matters—all the rest is going to fall right into place soon enough. Just give her a bit of time and don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Joel sighs. “I just want what’s best for her, y’know? Just like any normal parent would want for their kid.”

“And you are doing the best that you can, just like any normal parent would.” You reach out, gently placing your hand on his bare forearm, your thumb brushing his warm skin. Your mere touch sends a tingle up his spine, and he can’t help but wonder if the connection had done the same for you. “It’s easy to see how much you care about her. How much you love her.”

“I do love her,” he murmurs. It feels odd, almost foreign for him to say it out loud. Of course he loves Ellie, and although he’s fairly certain she knew that and she loved him too, those three specific words had never been exchanged between them, and he had a hunch they never would be. “All I want is to do right by her. After everythin’ she’s been through—I just want her to finally be happy.”

“That says a lot about the kind of man you are.”

Biting back a scoff, Joel shakes his head. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s a good person—you’d be horrified if you knew about all the blood that stained his hands, about all of the things he’d done in the last two decades to survive. He’d stolen, he’d destroyed, he’d murdered. He’d lied.

He was not a good man. 

Your hand drops away from his arm, a lot sooner than either of you would have liked.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks, deciding to switch the focus of the conversation onto you. “How’d you end up in good ol’ Jackson, Wyoming?” 

“You take another sip of your drink, which is now completely watered down by the melted ice in your glass. “Well, like I told you, I grew up in New Mexico on a horse ranch. It was me, my parents, and my little brother,” you start to explain. “After the outbreak happened, me and my family ended up in the Albuquerque QZ. We were there for quite some time, until there was a breach at one of the gates and the zone was overrun with infected.” You pause briefly as the memories of that night come flooding back. By now, you’ve repressed them enough that they don’t bring you to your knees the way they used to when you had been younger. “Me and my dad made it out alive, but my mom and my brother didn’t.”

Joel frowns. “Shit. M’real sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a tiny nod. “After me and my dad made it out of the zone, we found this group of people who were heading east, trying to get to Boston. It wasn’t long before everyone started to get picked off one by one—by infected, raiders, and even slavers. Somehow, me and my dad survived all that, but we found ourselves alone again. We were starving, had no shelter, and winter was just around the corner. We honestly didn’t know what we were going to do, and even though neither of us ever said it to each other, we were both so sure we were going to die. But then Tommy and his patrol group came across us one night. Once we proved that neither of us were infected, he brought us in.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Joel states. He never would have even guessed.

You just seemed so well put together.

“Haven’t we all?” You let out a humorless laugh.

A silence falls like a curtain over both of you, but it’s comfortable.

Tranquil. 

Although it had been a warmer night, it was now much later into the evening, and a chilly breeze whips its way through the settlement, whisking its cool and crisp fingers through your hair. It causes the white daisy you’d been wearing to fall, and the flower flutters to the ground, landing right in between Joel’s boots. Without giving it a second thought, he reaches down and picks it up, being careful as he gingerly dusts the dirt off of the delicate petals. He turns to you, tucking the flower back behind your ear. As his hand falls away from you, his index finger accidentally grazes the soft skin of your cheek, and every part of him floods with the burning desire to feel more of you.

“M’sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say—and you mean it. You can’t even remember the last time someone’s touch set you on fire like this. You’d been feeling cold and empty and numb for so long, and while all of the things that Joel’s making you feel had become almost foreign to you, they’re starting to reignite that spark of life inside of you that you thought you’d lost a long time ago.

From the inside of the barn, you and Joel hear the band begin to play their cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love. 

“Elvis, huh?” Joel muses with a hum. He sounds impressed.

You’re not sure if all the alcohol you’d been consuming throughout the evening has only now just decided to kick into full gear in your system or whether you really do just lack any kind of common sense, but you find yourself looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes. “How about another dance?”

His lips part slightly in surprise. “To this song?”

Every inch of your skin burns hot with embarrassment and your fingers curl tighter around your glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that I really love to dance,” you sputter out nervously, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You only dig yourself further into the hole as you continue to ramble. “Luke doesn’t like to dance. He never wants to dance with me—”

That’s all Joel had needed to hear.

He reaches for your glass, prying it out of your grasp. He sets it down on top of the fence and holds his hand out to you. “I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”

Looking up at him in surprise, you accept and place your hand in his. His other hand finds your waist and the two of you begin swaying along to the music—a smile that could light up the entire town breaks out across your face. 

Joel didn’t know Luke, but he couldn’t fathom how the man you were married to wouldn’t do just about anything to see that smile.

“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance,” you tease, noticing that he’s leading you.

Flashing you a cocky grin, he shrugs. “Guess the kid was right. I ain’t so bad for fifty six with creakin’ knees.”

Remembering Ellie’s words from earlier, you throw your head back and laugh.

His stomach turns, twisting in a tangle of desire and nerves.

You’re married.

But that does nothing to stop the want, the need. 

For either of you.

Being in his arms, it’s wrong.

It’s more than an innocent dance—it’s the beginning of something that’s bound to lead to nothing but trouble and you both know it.

Joel continues to lead you and begins singing along to the familiar lyrics, quietly, but just loud enough for you to hear the sultry richness of his voice. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” he sings, subconsciously giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

Impressed, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a nice voice, Joel.”

“Y’think so?”

You nod. “I do. What, were you a singer in your first life or something?”

“Close.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“I was a contractor,” Joel replies, grinning as he elicits another sweet laugh from you. “Owned my own construction business with Tommy. I did enjoy singin’ though—and playin’ the guitar too. But it was a hobby more than anythin’ since I don’t think music would’ve paid the bills.”

You smile up at him. “Oh, well now you’re going to have to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe even treat me to a whole song?”

“I still owe Ellie a song,” he remembers, shaking his head. “But I don’t have a guitar, so it gets me out of it.”

“Well then, we’re going to have to find you one and when we do, you’ll have to play something for us,” you tell him. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Joel agrees without thinking. He starts singing along to the lyrics again. “Take my hand, take my whole life too—” 

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.” You try not to laugh again at the shock on his face as you finished the lyric for him.

“Hey now, you’ve got a real nice voice yourself, darlin’.”

Darlin’. 

You shouldn’t let him call you that.

Out of respect for your husband, you should tell him it’s not okay. None of this is okay.

But it is okay. 

“Oh, now you’re just trying to flatter me, Miller,” you accuse him, playfully. 

The song ends and neither of you make a move to let go of one another.

Joel’s eyes fall to your pretty, plush lips and it takes every ounce of strength he has inside of him not to lean down and press his own lips against them.

Finally, he forces himself to let you go and takes a step backward, clearing his throat. “I should, uh—I should go and find Ellie so I can get her home. S’gettin’ kinda late.”

You nod, your heart slamming painfully against your sternum. “Of course,” you say, slightly breathless. “I’ll come along with you so I can say goodnight to her.”

As the two of you make your way around the barn and back towards the entrance, Joel sees a tall, slender man with short dark hair approaching. He’d called out your name and something inside Joel’s mind just clicks together—he knows exactly who the man is before you’ve even had a chance to open your mouth and say his name.

“Luke?” Stopping abruptly in your tracks, you stiffen and squeak out his name. “What—what are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey.” He comes up to you and immediately takes your arm, pulling you from Joel’s side and over to his. “Tommy told me you might be out here. I was just coming to look for you.”

It takes thirty seconds for Joel to size him up. Luke’s younger than himself, definitely closer in age to Tommy—somewhere around his mid to late forties. He’s a lot more clean cut than most of the other rugged men in the commune with his short, neatly kept dark hair and a clean shaven face. Though he’s on the thinner side, he’s in decent shape, but Joel’s wider, broader and far, far more intimidating.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again.

“Now, is that really how a loving wife should greet her husband?” Luke laughs, pulling you even closer into his side. 

Joel isn’t all too fond of the way he’s holding you. 

He’s rough, harsh.

“I decided to come and check it out. See what all the fuss is about,” Luke says. He glances at Joel, his green eyes giving him a once over—sizing him up, just like Joel had done to him. “Don’t be rude, honey. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”

You speak softly, almost too softly.

“Luke, this is Joel Miller.”

“Ah. You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”

Joel tries not to sound too curt, but fails. “That’s right.”

“Joel, this is Luke.” You can’t even look him in the eye as you introduce your spouse. “He’s my husband.”

Luke extends a courteous hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Joel.” His other hand finds and takes yours. “I do hope that my wife here hasn’t been bothering you tonight. She can be quite the little chatterbox. Makes me wish she came with a mute button sometimes.”

Joel’s dark eyes briefly flit to Luke’s hand holding yours, taking note of the way he’s gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Between that and the comment he’d just made about you, Joel had every fucking desire to connect his fist to the side of Luke’s face.

“Luke, please,” you whisper, throwing him a tiny glare. 

“Oh come on now, honey. Where did your sense of humor go? You know I’m only joking,” Luke states, squeezing your hand a little harder, causing you to squirm.

Something tells Joel he’s not kidding around.

He’d meant what he had said.

“She hasn’t been a bother at all,” Joel speaks in your defense. “Actually, I came out here to talk to her and to thank her for bein’ so kind to my kid, Ellie. Your wife here, she’s been nothin’ but good to her since we arrived.”

“Well, as long as she wasn’t being a bother.” Luke glances down at you. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s a few people that I still need to see and say hello to inside. Come along, honey.” He glances at Joel, a strange glint in his eye as he tells him, “Welcome to Jackson, Joel.”

His jaw clenches as he watches him drag you into the barn.

Nothing about Luke sat right with him.

The way he’d spoken to you, touched you, treated you.

And then there was you.

The light had instantly left your eyes the second he’d come around. 

Something wasn’t right.

A rough hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts.

“Really, Joel? Really? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy hisses, yanking him over to the side of the barn where nobody would overhear him. “What the fuck did I tell you yesterday in the mess hall?”

“The hell are you fuckin’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

His brother glares at him. “I know that you ain’t as fuckin’ dumb as you look, Joel. What the fuck were you doin’ out here alone with her? Huh?”

Joel purses his lips together tightly in silence.

What had he seen?

Having read his mind, Tommy shoves his shoulder. “You were dancin’ with her you fuckin’ asshole? Did you fuckin’ forget that she’s a married woman?”

Joel rolls his eyes at him and aggressively shoves his hand off of his shoulder. “We were just dancin’ together, alright? Ain’t like we were makin’ out, Tommy. Can you fuckin’ relax?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Joel! If I saw any man that wasn’t me dancin’ with Maria like that, I’d be fuckin’ pissed. I’d kick his fuckin’ ass,” he spits. “Her husband just showed up to the goddamn party. You’re fuckin’ lucky that it was me who saw you out there with her and not him. What if he’d seen you two? Then what?”

“Christ, Tommy. Relax,” Joel tries again to calm him. “It was just a dance, alright? It was nothin’ more than that. Okay?”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good, ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ gonna say it again, big brother. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout her. I don’t need you to go around stirrin’ up any kind of trouble,” Tommy says, his voice firm. “We can’t have that kinda shit here. Maria won’t tolerate it, and y’know what, I won’t either. Don’t fuckin’ cause problems. Got it?”

“Didn’t plan on it,” Joel mutters, bitterly.

Tommy narrows his eyes at him.

“Just fuckin’ watch yourself, Joel,” he warns. “I fuckin’ mean it.”

[piningbuddies]

@canonbibuck hey. remember i said if we see tommy pick buck up and kiss him at the door i WILL explode btw? and you said i think my heart will stop? i couldn't get it out of my head. i hope you live near an AED.

"hey evan, you ready to go?" tommy says, his mouth creasing at the corner where he smiles and buck wants. wants to press his lips to the corner of tommy's mouth, wants to learn every curve and crease. he finds himself wanting to be pressed into a counter or a wall or even his fucking front door and thoroughly kissed. he wants to be held and he wants it to be tommy doing the kissing and that's a heady feeling he can't quite wrap his head around.

"evan?" tommy says, snapping him out of his head.

"sorry!" he breathes, tucking his phone into his back pocket. "got a tendency to get in my own head a bit."

tommy chuckles, an amused thing that sends sparks flying down to buck's toes. "so i've noticed." he rakes his eyes over buck then, his smile turning more smirk at the corners. "you look great."

"so do you!" buck rushes out, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. and it's true. tommy's dressed in a loose-fitting olive green shirt that makes him look massive and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans which cling to his thighs sinfully, and now that buck's properly seeing all of this, it's...well—

it's honestly driving him insane.

tommy's eyes crinkle, and he thinks about telling maddie he wasn't going to act like a 14 year old girl anymore but he has to physically fight down the urge to giggle. the older man steps into his space, his hand coming up and his thumb gently tugging buck's bottom lip from between his teeth.

"wha—"

tommy cuts him off with a kiss. it blows his mind how good this is — to just kiss with zero intention behind it. just kissing for the sake of kissing is something he hasn't really done a lot of, and he's still new to the whole kissing a man thing, but the way tommy kisses is unlike anything else he's experienced. buck actually feels smaller in tommy's grasp, and it's not overwhelming like he expected. it doesn't feel wrong or bad or anything any of the websites he's spent the past couple of days looking at warned him about. it—

it actually feels really nice.

tommy kisses buck with a slow, soft drag of his lips, his stubble scratching lightly against buck's chin. buck's hands eventually take up residence on tommy's chest, the steady thump thump of his heart a grounding presence before he floats off onto some other plane of existence.

they part eventually, their foreheads resting against one another as buck's eyes flutter open. "what was that for?"

tommy's smile is wide and unashamed as he shrugs, stealing a quick peck from buck. "just because."

he steps back then, taking buck's hand in his, and the slide of their calloused palms together sends another tingle down buck's spine that he chases after. he never wants to stop chasing it, actually. this feeling? the full exhales he's been able to take since tommy flipped his world on its head? the sheer wanting and feeling wanted?

buck's hand tightens around tommy's as they step towards the door. he's not letting any of it slip from his grasp. not anymore.

[copinghex]

Delirium | T.S

Summary: Thomas pays a last visit to the woman he always had a thing for | dark!AU and 🔞

A/N: This makes me feel like a nasty hoe, I just wanted to write smut with a Tommy who's obsessed but not violent, if that makes sense 🥴

Warning: Tommy being delusional 

The kitchen felt warmer than it probably was, Tommy's presence scared her, especially in moments they were alone.

Of course, her husband's presence wouldn't make a huge difference, he was a humble civilian and Tommy could pull out a gun on him at any moment. She preferred to meet in public spaces, where she'd be able to call for help.

He sat at the table, sipping on his tea with disturbing peace, as if he was the man of the house.

“Tommy,” she gulped, leaning on the counter far from him, “my husband will be home soon, so if you don't have anything to say-”

‘I thought I gave this house to you,” he interrupted.

“Y-yes, but he lives here too,” 

“Lucky, ain't he?” he nodded, the glassy look in his eyes scared her, “I gave you this place in consideration for you and the baby and he gets to decide who visits,”

“We know how lucky we are for having your sympathy,” 

“Sympathy,” he scoffed.

Lowering her head, she got ready for what seemed to be another one of his episodes. After every single one, she regretted the day she stepped into his family's betting shop looking for a job. After that, she never had peace.

People said after the war Thomas chose to be alone, she saw it differently, he was always surrounded by whores and flirting with the newcomer barmaid. Every now and then, he invited her to dates. Surely he wasn't a man she'd call lonely.

By then, his behavior didn't bother her, Small Heath was full of perverts and womanizers. He was just another one of them until he started to chase her. 

Even with his aunt's insistence for her to give him a chance, she paid him no mind, thinking Polly only favored her so he'd forget the barmaid who was later revealed to be a cop. Also, she heard he had an affair with his secretary and wooed his horse trainer, all while flirting with her and promising the world if she gave in. 

When Thomas got married, she swore things would get better, he'd leave her alone and wouldn't be in the betting shop as often. What an awful prevision. In a matter of weeks, he forbade his employees from dating, although she liked to think it was only because of business, she thought the order was way too strict.

Then the worst phase came, widowed Thomas was clingy, forceful, controlling and manipulative. His sad blue eyes would convince her of anything - or almost anything, the bedroom's part, she left for Lizzie - it was when she realized that for him to forget about her, she had to leave him. A new job should be enough.

One day after she resigned, he knocked on her door, asking all the reasons why she wasn't part of the company anymore and promising he'd stop chasing her. What a fool she was for believing. Thomas didn't stop flirting. He only changed his methods. Every week, she'd find a small - or a huge - gift by her desk.

Years went by and she moved on, Thomas became a permanent hurdle she chose to ignore. Nowadays, they were both married and with children, though sometimes he'd still remind her that if she wanted him, he'd be there.

“...do you want to talk?” she asked, perhaps with the death of his daughter he wanted consolation.

“Do I scare you?”

“No, hm,” she lied, his question surprised her, “a bit, sometimes, but mostly no,” 

“It came to me last night, perhaps I scared you, that's why you never wanted me,” 

“Tommy-”

“Y’know, some nights- many nights,” he wasn't looking at her, with his distant eyes and head low, she knew it'd be better to let him finish his monolog, “you were all I thought about, no shovels, no curses, just you, my wife,” 

“What?” she was shocked, but it didn't matter, he wasn't listening.

“We'd make love every night before going to sleep and I'd find out everything, what you like, what you don't,” he sighed, “and the rest wouldn't fucking matter, it'd be just you and me,” 

Finally, he looked at her waiting for an answer. She, on the other hand, didn't know what to say.

“Tommy, perhaps-” she started, “you know I have much respect for you, but also for Mrs. Shelby and my husband, so perhaps it's time you let go of this infatuation for me,” 

“Is this what you think it is? Infatuation?” 

“I-”

“Sometimes I thought of forcing you,” he confessed, “after everything I gave you it'd be fair, wouldn't it? To take something back, but that was the problem, I never wanted to fuck you, I wanted you to want me, sounds stupid now, eh?” 

“Why did you come here tonight?” after his speech, she was desperate for him to leave. 

“To tell you you'll finally have what you wanted, I won't bother you anymore,” he explained, “I'm sick,”

“With what?” 

“Tuberculoma,” 

All she did was stare, Thomas Shelby, the man who survived poverty, war and a dangerous career choice was killing himself from inside out. The worst part of her was relieved, the best felt bad for him.

“What about your son?” she mumbled.

“He's in good hands,” 

“Well, hm, I'm sorry,”

“Are you?”

Tommy finished his tea in a big gulp. His posture told her his objective wasn't done yet. Of course not, he always had an A on his sleeve.

“There's another reason why I came here tonight,” he admitted, “I'm gonna ask you something in good faith,” 

“Yes?”

“Grant me a last wish, all I ever wanted,” 

“What is it?” she tensed up.

“Sleep with me, as if we were husband and wife,” he pleaded, blown out eyes fixed on her.

“What?! I can't!” 

“Why not?”

“Because I'm married! We both are!” 

“Me? I'm not anymore,” 

“We can't, Tommy,”

“Please, not one has to know,” never in her life, she thought she'd see him beg, “first and last time,”

Again, she was speechless, guilty for considering giving in to him, but wouldn't it be merciful? Before she decided, he walked to her, cupping her face between his hands.

His lips met her cheek, gently kissing her, she barely believed when he started to smell her. For him, it was the best scent he ever felt.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she allowed him to keep going only to see how far he'd go. His palm was warm and easily covered half her face, his kisses went down her neck, different from what she was used to, her husband was sweet, Tommy was intense, drinking her in like a starving man.

He brought her closer, holding her waist with a strong grip. From that distance, she smelled the lingering cologne underneath the cigarette scent. The warmth from his skin gave her unwanted shivers.

Naively, she rested her hands on his back, it was all he needed to lift her to the counter, sitting her down and standing between her legs. As if she got out of trance, she pushed him away.

“Tommy,” she used a leg to create distance, foot well positioned on his chest, “we can't,” 

She expected him to retaliate, his fast breath and dilated eyes made her feel like a prey, he was the predator about to pounce. Instead, he took her foot into his hands, slowly kissing the way up her legs. She had all the time in the world to stop him, but her body froze with his affections.

Once he reached her thigh, Tommy put his head under her skirt, she felt his rough fingers undo her stockings and obliged, lifting her hips for him to pull her panties down. 

With his breath against her cunt, she held tightly to the counter, the surface was cold in her warm hands. He parted her inner lips with his tongue, making her jump slightly.

The foreign feeling brought excitement to her core, weak moans poured from her lips as Tommy sucked her clit.

Lifting her skirt, she ran a hand through his hair, he lowly hummed, burying his face further between her legs before standing up, starting a greedy kiss.

Through the desperate yearning, he was gentle, cupping her face and giving her little pecks every time she ran out of breath. She took his coat off and held onto him, from his waistcoat texture it must've been extremely expensive. 

Touching his thin body, few ribs could be counted even if she'd still consider him strong. Tommy started unbuttoning her dress and she stopped him.

“Like man and wife, you said?”

Excitement built in Tommy's chest, she'd be finally his, the idea got him hard as a rock. With a last peck on his lips, she guided him upstairs, avoiding looking at her family pictures. They made her feel bad.

Through the hallway, he stopped and stared at her daughter's bedroom's door, highlighted by the lilac color contrasting with the rest of white ones, “What's her name again?” 

“Agatha,” 

He sighed, picturing a little girl with her eyes, who'd play near the canal with Ruby, Charlie and Duke. She'd watch them from far, the three sweetest girls he ever met, that sounded like heaven, a heaven he'd never reach.

Pulling him to the guest room, she sat him on the bed, the spare, impersonal mattress that'd be ruined by her infidelity. As she straddled his lap, Tommy spread kisses on her chest, her head fell back from pleasure, body warming up to him.

As tempting as melting into his arms was, she wanted to give him an experience, something slow and intimate, between those four walls there was no unreciprocated love or unfaithfulness, only the two of them. 

She cupped his face and touched their foreheads together, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his waistcoat, “Tell me about your day,” 

“I'm glad it's already over,” he drawled, hands traveling through her back.

“Did you miss me?” she held a giggle at his unnecessary tie clip, he probably urged to show the world he could afford one. 

“I-” he gulped when she put the small golden clip between her lips, “did,” 

Fully undressing wasn't sexy like in books she'd read before, she had to stand up and got particularly shy while Tommy watched. However, she managed to get a few chuckles while taking the boots off his feet.

“I can tell,” with him brushing on her thigh, she got rid of his clothing and pushed him down the mattress. His eyes shone at the view of her on top of him, hands gripping on her dress as a silent request to take it off.

Playfully, she threw her last piece of clothing at him, a wool stocking far from being sexy. With a small smile, he pulled her back to bed, climbing on top of her in a swift move. His hands grabbed her waist while his face was buried on her neck, between kisses and bites, she could tell he was overwhelmed.

Wrapping her legs around him, she called his name in a whisper, Tommy lifted his head getting face to face with her and for a moment, it'd be foolish to deny he looked beautiful, lips swollen, hazed eyes and blushy cheeks fitting perfectly into his features.

The gray hair growing on his shaved sides caught her attention, a sign of how long he'd been pinning for her. She had seen him go from bookmaker to member of parliament, from a man who always wore the same three fancy suits to a man who could gift a house and yet, to her, Thomas Shelby was nothing but a pretty painting, something to admire, but never to hold dear.  

“What?” he noticed he was being observed.

“Nothing, can't I just look at you?” 

He squinted, lightly squeezing her cheeks together. She tensed up, realizing how vulnerable she was lying naked under him.

“Tom?” she feared some sudden change of demeanor.

His previous kindness suddenly vanished, Tommy kissed her hungrily and her body betrayed her, surrendering completely, urging to become one with him.

A tiny moan was all to be heard when he slid into her, then the bed started to crackle and the impact of his thrusts mixed with their heavy breaths. 

She tried to pull his head to her shoulder in an intimate embrace, he didn't let her, holding her hands above her head, “Want to look at you,”

The admission put a smile on her face, besides everything Tommy was sweet, certainly not like she imagined a gangster would be in bed. 

Between sloppy kisses, he freed one of her hands that she took to his back, his skin was soft, the only bumps were the scars he got in war and business, still, it was nothing she'd consider imperfections, it all added deepness to the artwork he was.

Freeing her other hand, she hugged him closer, the sudden pull disturbed his steady pace and she giggled at the surprised huff he let out.

Tommy Shelby wasn't a man to be vulnerable often, to see him make such noises or show desperate desire was more intimate than all the years she spent with her own husband. She wanted to see more.

The question crossed her lips before she could consider any further consequences, “Do you love me, Tommy?” 

He swallowed, gripping on her legs and pounding into her harder, “I do, fuck, I do, I love you,” 

Squeezing her eyes shut, her back arched from a consuming orgasm. Tommy's name filled the room in loud moans as her nails sank in his back.

After few more thrusts, he poured inside her. Tommy rested his forehead on hers and they breathed heavily. With mind foggy and his gentle caresses on her head, she didn’t hear steps on the other side of the door.

Hard knocks on the door made her freeze inside, Tommy had a tiny smirk on his face while her husband called from outside, “What the fuck is going on in there?!” 

[intothedysphoria]

He hadn’t been talking to the guy for even five minutes and Steve’s stomach was already turning itself in knots.

He was like 6 foot, just short of Steve’s height, looked like Eros had become mortal and Steve was pretty sure the guy was trying to sell him drugs. Maybe. He had the same look as Munson who definitely was a dealer. Was it classist to think that?

Regardless, Steve did what he always did when stuck in a conversation with someone beautiful and fucked off.

You absolute fucking loser Steve Harrington.

Robin later came and berated him for being rude. The guys name was Billy, he’d just moved from California and he was just trying to make friends. Steve had evidently not taken any of that information in while panicking.

He sent a quick message via WhatsApp (where else) to apologise and then felt guilty for five days afterwards.

Billy sent back a fairly frosty reply and Steve got the message that they were not going to be the best of friends.

Lucky for him, Billy seemed to be in regular contact with everybody else Steve knew. Even his mom. Fucking typical.

He had a physical embodiment of his shame chasing him around and that shame was blonde.

Claudia insisted that Billy wasn’t even that upset anymore and if Steve just talked to him it would be fine. Steve enjoyed not getting punched in the face and declined that offer.

One person Steve found he did get along well with was Billy’s younger sister, Max. She was a fiery kid with an imagination that veered towards the gruesome and bright red hair. She said Billy could be a bit volatile but he’d cool down. He always did.

Billy did seem to warm to Steve after seeing his closeness to Max. Minutely. Like ice thawing.

Watching how easily Billy talked to Byers, the kids, fucking Munson, Steve let what he’d always known sink in. Steve was a dick.

A dick who was still somehow invited to the Corroded Coffin Halloween concert. Billy was up at the front, practically sitting on the stage, while shouting to the drummer. Steve was sipping a Coke Zero and trying not to have flashbacks to highschool. God, he was awful to everyone in this room.

Tommy was also there for some reason. Probably because he was also obsessed with Billy. It was kind of sad but also nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t constantly judging him.

Max seemed like she was kind of freaking out by the latter half of the concert so Steve made sure she got home safe. It was the least he could do, considering Billy seemed like he was busy breaking up a fight.

He got a text the next morning. It was a hell of a lot less curt than the last time Billy had messaged him.

“Thanks for taking care of my little sister Harrington. I misjudged you.”

Max was overjoyed that they were finally getting along. In her words “I knew you two assholes were perfect for each other.”

Perfect was a stretch. Mainly Billy just wasn’t glaring at him anymore. And sending him tiktoks pretty much daily. And inviting him to gigs.

Shit, maybe they were friends. That was novel. Most people didn’t come around to Steve after deciding they hated him.

Steve decided to just ask Billy outright and got the worlds most incredulous yes as an answer.

“You’re funny Harrington” that’s what he’d said.

Steve could live with being funny. Sure, it wasn’t the adjective he wanted to be described with by practically the man of his dreams but it wasn’t the worst.

A new routine formed after the establishment of friendship.

Billy would swing by Steve’s apartment every morning, 9AM on the dot. They’d have coffee and a couple of cigarettes, Billy would kick Steve’s ass at Wii golf and they’d go out to get a pastry together before work. Then they’d meet up after work, Steve would attempt to cook dinner and Billy would stay until about 7:30PM to get back to Max.

When he told Robin of his triumph with Billy, she stared at him very seriously and asked how long they’d been dating. Steve responded that they weren’t. Billy hadn’t said anything about dating so they weren’t. Obviously.

Robin stared at him and slowly shook her head sadly. Rude.

Steve was definitely not Billy’s type. Billy used words like obsequious in casual conversation, he was a hot nerd. Looks wise, Steve had been described as a “solid 7.5” but he was not smart. At all.

Billy was probably interested in Munson, with his constant long speeches about Lord of the Rings. They were so similar it would make perfect sense for them to be.

Well, Steve thought that until he saw Eddie making out with Jason Carver. Huh. Life was full of surprises.

Billy had started sleeping over at Steve’s. Making breakfast for Steve. Sometimes cuddling Steve.

They were just really good friends. Who fucked weekly and were living together.

And had…………matching rings. For like, friendship reasons.

Steves had an emerald on. Billy was just really thoughtful.

Robin looked like she was going to start tearing her hair out, grabbed his face and said “Steve. You’re engaged. I don’t know why Billy is allergic to using words but you are engaged.”

Casually asking Billy if they were engaged had Billy going extremely red and mumbling something about “if you want to be”.

Fuck yes.

They’d been in a relationship for like two years and Steve insisted they celebrate both their anniversary and engagement immediately.

California would be wonderful and Steve had a feeling Billy would agree.

[tightjeansjavi]

⟡ sentiments n’ bubbly ⟡

A/N: so, this one another one of my post shower thoughts that has now transformed into this little fic 🥹 this time of the year is a struggle for myself and for others, and I hope it can bring us all a bit of peace before the new year 🤍

~word count: 4.5k~

pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: it’s NYE and you find yourself in Joel Miller’s coffee shop. He’s a firm believer that no one deserves to spend New Year’s Eve alone.

Warnings: angst, fluff, no age gap, discussions of self image issues, bullying, food/eating, language, anxiety, fear of social situations, fomo, mentions of therapy, NYE blues, self deprecating thoughts, flirting, meet-cute, no outbreak/modern day AU, Sarah and Tommy exist in this universe, soft!joel, mentions of alcohol, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, some content included may be triggering for some as Joel and the reader have some very real conversations about life. +18 minors dni!

It’s New Year's Eve. The official last day of the year. A whole 365 days has come and gone, and yet, you find yourself feeling the same way you did last year. It wasn’t like you had a particularly terrible life or anything of the sorts, but you still had your struggles. Your daily contemplations over whether you were doing enough, being enough in your little life. You try to focus on all the good that happened in those 365 days of life.

All the laughter, smiles, the warm fuzzy feelings that you found yourself chasing more often than none. The bad times always find their way to trickle in and weasel into your conscience like an infection. The truth is that you know life comes with both good and bad memories. But why is it so hard to push back the bad? Why is it so easy to beat yourself down? You could have done this better, you shouldn’t have said the things you said, did you remember to turn your out of office on before you left the office?

Shit. There was that one email I didn’t get to.

Maybe you find yourself trying to cram in as many last minute tasks before the new year. Closet clean out? You haven’t worn that sweater in months..yet, you find yourself holding onto it because it was a gift from a dear friend, and you don’t want to unintentionally hurt their feelings by donating or regifting it.

Fridge clean out? Well, it does say that horseradish never expires..but you can never be too careful!

Clean your living space from top to bottom? Maybe next year you’ll invest in cleaner products for both the earth and your brain cells. Bleach can be awfully nasty to deal with.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of you. Leftovers are your meal of choice for the evening. You spent hours cleaning your kitchen, and you’d rather not have to do another wipe down till tomorrow.

Hey, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight? We’re leaving in an hour!

It's not that you don’t want to go out with your friends, it’s the steps before getting out the door that have always been a struggle for you.

What if my outfit doesn’t look the way I planned it out in my head?

What if I completely botch this makeup look?

What if the club is too packed?

You hate feeling this way, often thinking you’re a burden to your friends because you're constantly planning ahead of time. Living in the moment for you has always been tough. A gray area that sometimes you have found yourself making peace with, and other times you just wish you could be different.

You reach for your phone while you’re already mentally planning the steps in order to get ready in time. Being late is never an option, even when it’s just a fun night out in town.

Hey, I thought it over and I’d love to come out with you guys :) see you soon!

You send the text in a flash before tossing your half eaten slice of pizza onto the coffee table and rush to your room.

You tear up every inch of your closet looking for the perfect outfit. It's New Year’s Eve after all, and you want to be shimmering like a grand disco ball.

The outfit is on, and you look great! It turned out even better than you pictured it in your head. But the longer you stare in the mirror.

Fuck. Can’t I just turn my brain off for one night? Please?

And there it is, again. That gnawing little voice inside your head that pops up, gleaming and waving its hand just in case you forgot that it existed.

You aren’t actually going to wear that..are you?

It looks all wrong.

And you’re going to be freezing—

Your friends are going to look 10x better than you—

“ENOUGH!” You shout to no one in particular before you stomp off to the bathroom.

After taking a deep breath, you pull out your array of makeup from one of the bathroom drawers. Pinterest becomes your best friend again while you scroll to find a makeup look that screams you.

Bold. Glittery. Too much glitter?

There is never such a thing as too much glitter. You remind that little voice inside of your head.

Even with your ‘going out playlist’ on full blast, you feel your confidence begin to shrink and diminish as you stare at your painted face in the mirror. It’s not exactly like the picture you found on Pinterest, but there’s no time for you to change it now.

Your phone buzzes again, and this time it’s your friends sending you a group picture of all of them pregaming in their glittery outfits and bright smiles. You heart the message before typing back,

Wow, you guys look amazing! Please don’t be mad, I’m just not feeling up for it tonight. I hope you guys have a blast and stay safe! :)

Your friends understand, because they know that this has always been a struggle for you. A sore spot that hasn’t exactly quite healed the way you wish it had. It’s hard to dig yourself out of a hole that you dug, but you're grateful that they have always been so understanding.

No worries, we love you, and Happy New Year!

And all you feel is guilt.

But instead of wallowing away in your apartment, you grab your coat, purse and keys before making the final decision to go out.

You find yourself outside of a coffee shop just down the block from your apartment. You passed by it everyday during your commute to work, but you never found yourself going in, until now.

The coffee shop is found to be empty as most people are already out to dinner or at a party. It’s somewhat comforting that it’s just you and the lone barista who hadn’t heard you come in yet. His back is turned to you while he wipes down one of the counters, humming to himself as he moves about.

You're immediately drawn into how cozy everything feels. From the decor to the crackling fireplace to the soft music playing through the speakers.

The man turns then, towel gently grasped in his hand when he finally registers that he’s no longer alone. He takes in your attire, finding it odd that someone all dressed up for the evening found themselves here. Then he remembered how his daughter told him it’s rude to judge strangers because you never know what the next person is going through.

He smiles warmly instead. “Hey there, I was uh—jus’ about to close up for the evenin’ but can I get you anythin?’” He’s got a face that you already know you’re going to have a hard time forgetting. Strong built frame, yet soft in all the right places and despite his exterior appearing to be hardened, he seems friendly enough.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that you were closing up for the night..I don’t want to keep you here. I can always come back another time?”

He detects the way your face slightly begins to fall as he lightly taps his fingers along the counter top he just finished wiping down. “S’alright. I forgot to change the sign out front so that’s all on me. So, what can I get ya? It’s on the house.” He gestured to the menu board above his head.

You hesitated for a moment as you didn’t want to inconvenience this man who probably had his own New Year’s Eve plans to get to. “Are you..sure? I really don’t mind coming back another day.”

“S’alright, I promise. I don’t have anywhere important I need to be anyway.” He said with a slight shrug.

“No fun New Year's Eve plans? And I’ll take a cappuccino, please.” You stepped closer to the counter as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Nah. ‘Supposed to meet my brother at a bar nearby for a couple drinks, but he can wait a little longer.” He was already reaching his hand out to stop you from pulling out your wallet, when your eyes met his.

“For the tip.” You said with a smile while placing a couple five dollar bills into the tip jar.

“Oh, thank you. ‘Awfully kind of ya.” He responds softly, out of surprise because most people never bothered to tip. He might even be blushing a little..but he can’t really tell. Maybe it was just the steam from the espresso machine.

“It’s no problem. Gotta support small businesses, y’know?”

He nods in understanding. “Yeah, it’s the least people can do. Anyway, I’ll get that Cappuccino goin’ for ya. Feel free to sit wherever.” He gestured to the empty tables.

The table closest to the fireplace ended up being the one you ultimately chose. It happened to also be his favorite spot as well, go figure.

On any other occasion, Joel would call the customer's name once their drink was ready, but given the current circumstances..and the fact that he hadn’t asked for your name, bringing the coffee to you was perfectly acceptable.

“Here’s that Cappuccino for ya.” His voice drawled above you as he set the mug down in front of you. “Let me know if I can getcha anythin’ else. I’ll just be in the back finishin’ up with the cleanin.’”

“Thank you..” you start to say before realizing that you don’t know this man’s name either.

“Joel.” He clears his throat. “My name is Joel, and you are?..”

You tell him your name and he nods with a small smile.

You're left alone to your thoughts as his footsteps disappear behind the countertop once more. You can faintly hear him busying himself and putzing around as your cappuccino begins to cool without you realizing it.

You find yourself vacantly staring through the windows, and the dimly lit streets and passerby’s. You’ve always had a fond love for people watching and imagining what their lives were like. What their jobs and aspirations were. Did they have a family waiting for them? What made them happy? Would they be able to relate to you?

You don’t even hear Joel’s approaching footsteps nearing the table until he’s saying your name with an edge of concern in his voice because you’ve neglected to have a single sip of your cappuccino that has now become room temperature.

Your eyes meet his deep brown warm ones as your own sense of confusion washes over you.

“Is everythin’ alright? You haven’t touched your cappuccino at all..” he’s not offended, nor hurt, but the empath in him is genuinely concerned, even though you’re just a stranger in his coffee shop.

“Oh.” Your voice falls flat. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I guess I got lost in my own thoughts and completely forgot about it.” You feel bad, awful actually because he took the time to make you this drink, and all you had to do was just drink it—

“Hey, it’s alright. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts as well. But, I can’t have ya drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino. I’ll make you a new one, alright? It’s no trouble at all.” He’s already reaching over to grab the mug.

“Joel, are you sure? You really don’t have to—”

He cuts you off reassuringly, “I insist. I won’t have my customer drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino on my watch. Ain’t no way.”

He disappears back behind the counter before you are able to protest. Joel returns 10 minutes later with two mugs in hand. You listen to the sound of the chair across from you scraping before he slowly sits down.

“I uh—hope you don’t mind me joinin’ ya? You jus’ seem like you could use some company, darlin.’ S’that alright for me to call you darlin?’”

He’s sweet like warm sticky molasses and honey. He actually might be the nicest guy you’ve met in a long long time.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Joel. I could actually use the company, and you can call me darling. That’s alright with me too.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his mug that is clasped between his hands. He gently blows on the billowing steam before he takes a small sip. “So, do you have any fun plans for the evenin’? I’m only assumin’ cus’ you’re all dressed up for a night out in town.” He gestures to your glittery getup that sparkles under the warm flames.

“Well, I did have plans to meet up with some friends tonight..but I wasn’t feeling up for it in the end and somehow ended up here.” You said with a sigh before taking a sip of your own Cappuccino. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“How come?..if ya don’t mind me askin?’ And I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ it. Tastes a lot better when it’s hot.”

The last thing you expected tonight was to engage in a conversation about your daily anxieties with this absolutely gorgeous man. Whom you just met, but crazier things have happened before.

“I don’t mind you asking, Joel. I just don’t want to burden you with my troubles or anything. Especially since I think they’re a bit silly and blown out of proportion.” Your eyes casted downwards into the mug.

“Hey, I doubt you can do that, and between you and me? I’ve heard it all. Got a teenage daughter who’s goin’ through all the things that I’m tryin’ to understand..but as a single father, it’s fuckin’ tough sometimes. But I’d be happy to act as a listenin’ ear for ya.” He genuinely means it, too.

“You have a daughter? How old is she? Teenagers can be a handful, that is very true.” You responded thoughtfully while leaning back against the chair.

You watch the way his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you show a genuine interest in this man’s life. It’s sometimes a rare occurrence to meet a stranger who you feel like you can just immediately open up to without thinking too hard about it.

“She just turned 13 this year. She’s a good kid, super smart. The kinda kid that probably will end up growin’ up and changin’ the world. She’s..well, my world.” He clears his throat and you notice his dimple poking out in his cheek.

As if this man couldn’t become any more attractive.

“Anyway, she’s already goin’ through some friend and boy drama and it’s jus’ a lot to keep up with. Her mom ain’t in the picture either, so it’s not like I can turn to her for any guidance. She went to her first ever school dance this year in a dress that she picked out. The next thing I know, she’s callin’ me up in tears because some kids thought it was okay to make fun of how she looked. I know kids can be mean sometimes, but I wanted to go in there and teach those little shits a lesson myself.”

He was quite the protective father.

“Kids can be real bitches sometimes, Joel. I never quite understood it myself. Especially since I’m sure your daughter was just minding her own business and having a good time? I learned at a very young age that there’s a lot of jealous people in this world that enjoy causing pain in others for no apparent reason.They might have their own struggles, but that is no justification. Those kids that bullied your daughter will hopefully learn from their mistakes sooner rather than later.”

“She was just mindin’ her own and having a great time. She was so excited to wear her dress. It jus’ makes me so goddamn angry because I can’t protect her from everythin’ out there. It’s somethin’ that I’ve really struggled with this year especially. And I’ve tried to talk to my brother about it, but he doesn’t get it either.” Joel said with a sigh. “I’m glad that you can understand all of this though. I don’t really have any female friends to talk to about this stuff either.”

“Most kids grow out of their ‘mean’ phase after highschool. I can admit that I went through a phase similar to that. Made a lot of mistakes that I had to hold myself accountable for. But, with your love and support, I think your daughter is gonna end up being okay. She’s lucky to have you as a dad.” You reassure him.

“Really? You don’t seem like the type of person to ever hurt someone..then again, I ain’t perfect either. Never have been, never will. I’ve had my own regrets as well. But, I appreciate all that you’re sayin.’ S’Nice to be validated every now and then.” He leans forward with his elbows resting along the table and you’re just beginning to notice how broad his shoulders truly are under his faded flannel.

“I don’t think anyone can ever claim to be perfect. We don’t know everything and can make genuine mistakes. But all we can really do is learn from them, make it up to the people we may have hurt, and move forward. I think you’re a really nice person, based on our conversation, Joel.”

“You’re right, darlin.’ No one in this world can claim they are perfect. It's impossible.” His knee brushed yours gently from how close he was leaning in giving you a clear indication that he was actively listening to everything you were saying. “Anyway, I’m sorry I went off on that tangent jus’ now when we were talkin’ about your New Year’s Eve plans.”

“Dammit.” You sighed with a smile tugging on your lips. “I thought you forgot all about that.”

“Nah. I’m pretty good at rememberin’ even if I find myself havin’ to circle back. So, you didn’t feel up to meeting’ your friends tonight?”

“I was going to, truly. But I just got into my head way too much. It started with finding an outfit to wear. I absolutely tore my closet up and I’m really dreading having to clean it up later. Anyway, I’ve got the outfit on, right?”

He nods while taking another sip of his Cappuccino.

“I’m feeling great, and loving the way the outfit looks on me, and then there’s that stupid mean voice inside my brain. You know the one?”

“Ahh yeah. The voice that tells us that we’re unattractive and worthless? Like when we put on our favorite outfit and it’s not fitting quite right, and we know it’s silly to cry over clothes..but sometimes we just can’t help it? And that voice is right there beating us down because sometimes we forget that it’s natural for our bodies to change?”

Damn, he’s good.

“So...you hear that voice sometimes too? I honestly thought I was alone in this feeling. I tend to keep these thoughts to myself because I don’t want to burden others, y’know? I do see a therapist, though. It definitely has helped a lot, but I’m still struggling.”

“Darlin,’ I know exactly where you’re comin’ from. I had these favorite pairs of jeans that I would wear pretty much everyday. Well, just this past month I found that they ain’t fittin’ the way they used to. The zipper wouldn’t budge, and then I spent a good hour tryin’ all the tricks in the book to get those suckers to fit. Well, none of it worked and then I started beatin’ myself up. Sayin’ all the nasty names I could come up with. Then after all of that, I thought about all the delicious meals I had this year and especially these damn ice cream sundaes that my kid is obsessed with. Suddenly, the jeans not fittin’ didn’t bother me as much anymore.”

“Ice cream sundaes are delicious, and even more-so when you are enjoying them with your daughter. I pretty much went through the exact thing that you’re describing. I know that we shouldn’t give into the societal bullshit of looking a certain way to appear more attractive, but it’s just hard sometimes. That’s why I try to cycle through my closet every now and then so I’m not holding onto clothing that doesn’t fit me anymore. Did you end up keeping the jeans?..”

“She’s been requestin’ them for dessert pretty much every night, and I have a hard time tellin’ her no. They are absolutely delicious. It is definitely hard to pass them up sometimes. It’s comforting to know that other people go through the exact same thing that we’ve gone through. I did in fact donate the jeans, and then bought a new pair the same day. Wearin’ ‘em now actually, and I gotta say, I think I look quite good in ‘em if I do say so myself.” He said in a cheeky tone that sent heat rising on your cheeks.

“Well, I think you should stand up, if you feel comfortable doing so, that is, and let’s see what this jeans talk is all about.”

He grins at you, eyebrows playfully dancing while he sets his mug down along the table before pushing his chair back to stand up.

He gives you a little spin, one that neither you were expecting, but you could tell that he was having fun showing off his new denim.

“Okay, respectfully? Those jeans look amazing on you, they are very flattering, Joel.”

He laughs a warm and hearty laugh as his cheeks turn beet red from your words. Even if you’re just playing along, he’s feeling charmed by your presence.

“Really? Y’know, I was thinkin’ the same thing and a’that..but I’m a pretty humble guy.” He said sheepishly.

“Joel, screw being humble. You’re wearing those jeans like they’re made for you! You gotta own that.” You said with a giggle.

“Alright. Alright. If ya say so, darlin.’ I appreciate the compliment, but have ya taken a look at yourself tonight? You’re glitterin’ like a goddamn mirror ball. Gonna blind me with all that sparkle Y’got goin’ on.” He’s flirting, now. He’s absolutely shamelessly flirting with you.

You find yourself leaning forward then, close enough that he can see the pretty shimmer painted on your eyelids and your undeniable flirty smile.

“Joel, are you flirting with me right now?” You’re feeling bold, and curious to know if you were reading the signs correctly, or letting your brain run a muck in theories.

“I am, darlin.’ Is that..alright? Cus’ if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“No, please continue to flirt away. I’m glad that you’re getting to see my outfit, Joel. I probably have glitter in places where glitter doesn’t belong.” You said with a light, airy laugh.

“You’ll be finding little bits of glitter all over the place well within the next year. Do you have any to spare?” He asked with a warm chuckle.

“Actually..I do have some to spare.” You reached for your purse along the side of the chair and pulled out your tube of glitter eyeshadow that you had brought just in case you needed any touch ups. “May I?”

“Oh, you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you have some to spare, huh?” He leaned in closer to get a better look. “That’s a really pretty color, darlin.’ You think I can pull that off?”

“I don’t kid when it comes to my glitter, Joel.” You said teasingly. “I absolutely think you can pull this color off. But, I’ll need you to close your eyes so I can apply this more eveningly.”

“Okay, I’m trustin’ you, darlin.’” He slowly closed his eyes then and only flinched a little when he felt the applicator glide across his eyelid. “Sorry, wasn’t it expectin’ to feel that damn cold.” He murmured softly.

“No worries, Joel. It can be a bit ticklish at times.” You scooted your chair in closer to him so both of your knees were tucked in between his as you delicately applied the shimmering shadow. Your tongue was peeking out between your lips as you focused on the task at hand.

He tried to peek his eye open once, before you playfully scolded him and said, no peeking.

To which he grumbled out a response with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I pretty yet, darlin?’” He asked with his eyes still shut as you admired your work.

“Very pretty, Joel. Okay, you can go ahead and open them.” You pulled out a little handheld mirror from your purse and held it out for him to admire his appearance.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the feeling before he averted his attention to the mirror you were holding. “Oh, shit. Wow. Y’know what..I actually think I like it.” He looked over at you then before he realized how close you were sitting to him. “Thank you, darlin’ I feel like I’m a mirror ball too.”

“It really brings out your eyes, Joel. They were already pretty before, but now, they’re even more beautiful.”

You were already forgetting about how awful you felt earlier, and the guilty feelings for turning down your friend's offer to go out. It admittedly felt nice to talk to another person that shared more things in common with you than you realized. To be validated, and in turn, validate someone as well? It felt really, really good inside.

“So, now that we’re both glittered up, and it’s two hours till the start of the new year, would you maybe care to join me for a drink? Only if you’re feeling up for it, that is.” Joel asked you with his eyes flickering back to yours. Truthfully, he’s happy that you somehow found yourself in his coffee shop tonight. He can’t remember the last time he’s connected with someone on such a deep and personal level.

“I’d love to get a drink with you, Joel.” You don’t even second guess your answer, and if the feelings come up later, so be it. That little voice inside of your head is nowhere to be found as Joel offers you his arm.

You help him finish closing up for the night before the two of you find yourselves walking arm in arm to the bar that his brother Tommy was at. During your walk, you find yourselves falling back into conversation that flows easy like a steady stream. When you bring up feeling guilty for often being a homebody, he reassures you that wanting to spend a quiet evening with yourself is perfectly normal, and it’s something you shouldn’t feel ashamed of. He goes on to add that if you want to go out more, that’s perfectly okay to do as well. But you should never pressure yourself to go out and have a good time, if that’s truly not what you want to do.

And when you find Joel’s brother at the high top with a glass of bubbly in front of him, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Joel, what is that on your face?” He leans in close to inspect the glitter shadow painted on Joel’s eyelids.

You and Joel turn to one another with two knowing smiles plastered on your faces before you laugh in unison, “it’s glitter, of course!”

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[youngsadlesbian]

marvel.

WANDA MAXIMOFF

TEN TIMES UNTIL SHE REALIZES — sometimes it takes time to realize feelings.

TEENAGE DREAM — you managed to live out your teenage dream with wanda maximoff.

ENDURE — you met wanda when you were trying to retrieve loki's scepter. years later, you end up together, and then the blip happens. and then you lose her.

THE DRUKEN DANCER — at a party with the avengers, wanda sees you drunk for the first time.

REPUTATION — taylor swift is your favorite singer, and wanda finds that adorable, even if sometimes you're a bit too much of a fan.

BRAZILIAN CHAOTIC — wanda watches a video that shows a chaotic and different side of you.

STRANGE — you saw slowly you and wanda go from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again.

BREAK UP — wanda arrives home after a tiring mission and finds you looking miserable. it turns out it's just your hormones during pms making you convinced that your girlfriend is going to break up with you.

CHASING DESTINY — billy and tommy want to know your story with wanda, and you navigate through memories from years ago as you share every little detail possible and allowed with them.

ONLY YOURS — you’re a famous singer who has been in a secret relationship with wanda maximoff for almost a year. as a surprise for your anniversary, you decide to reveal your relationship to the world in the best way possible.

BUCKY BARNES AND NATASHA ROMANOFF

LITTLE AVENGER — a superheroine day with bucky and natasha, the best parents in the world.

STRONGER HEARTS — being the daughter of two superheroes wasn't easy, especially when you ended up inheriting a bit of your father's super soldier serum. and especially for drawing attention from other kids, even when you didn't quite understand what that meant.

YELENA BELOVA

PROTECTIVE SISTER — yelena catches you in an intimate situation with your girlfriend — whom she didn’t know existed.

AGATHA HARKNESS AND RIO VIDAL

nothing yet...

[hunterssm00n]

NSFW ! Thomas Hewitt hc’s

A little bit dangerous / but baby, that’s how I want it

*cw include mention of cnc and mention of slight gore* MDNI - 18+

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

• big boy, big hands, big fat ddddd - i don’t make the rules *shrugs*

• his fingers are like sausages on his hands, and are bigger and thicker than pretty much everyone else’s he comes across. i’ve always noticed how big and meaty his hands are, and the thought that they could crush someone’s skull just as easily as they could hold a kitten is just… unnnf

• his hands are quite large, warm, and super calloused from his day to day life. i hc that since his family is elderly he ends up doing a lot for them, and that includes housework, maybe some repairs, and definitely anything to do with getting food on the table. rough, weathered hands that can be gentle is one of the sexiest things ever.

• despite his sheer size and strength, tommy is an incredibly gentle lover. he’s a very sweet and considerate partner.

• after some practice and allowing his confidence to grow, those big hands know exactly what they’re doing- and a man with big hands that knows how to use them? *swoons*

• he’s a switch; can be a top or a bottom. loves being ridden but also loves being in control

• did not know pretty much anything about sex growing up, uncle charlie tried to explain it to him but you can imagine how well that went. this may have resulted in thomas having some unnatural fears when it comes to intimacy, but thankfully he's a quick study and is open to positive influence when there are good feelings associated.

• this can mean that this sweet boy can be talked into doing pretty much anything. as long as he understands there's nothing to be afraid of, and that if he doesn't like something he can always stop/indicate that he wants to stop.

• for example, he would only be open to cnc if he understands that it's a game - i really don't think he would be able to violate someone that way (which might sound weird considering he chainsaws people in half and then cuts off their faces and wears them...) as long as he knows it's for fun i feel like he would be open to anything

• sooo considerate afterwards - a total sweetheart who absolutely jumps at the chance to do aftercare

• he is always hot - figuratively and literally. i hc that his big boy body is like a furnace. this means the ultimate snuggle time in the winter, and just in general.

• he’s long and thick down there, lawd have mercy. like, almost doesn’t fit all the way he’s so big. and his balls are large and heavy, full of hot seed, and they swing back and forth when he thrusts, creating the perfect titillating sensation.

• when he cums… dear god. it’s like the hoover dam breaking open. he definitely needs lots of towels to clean up afterwards - or just straight up jumping in the bath/shower to rinse off

• his favorite positions are missionary and being ridden - the best of both worlds

• and he absolutely loves sex in the shower/bath. he is super touch starved, especially in the romantic sense, so that level of intimacy completely blows his mind.

• he adores being praised; being told what a good boy he is, how good what he's doing feels. he likes to know when he's doing something right - it is a huge confidence boost for this shy guy

• he actually isn't as quiet during sex as one may think. not that he says anything, but the noises he makes instead are equally as good. low groans, pitiful moans when something feels too good, and even growling when he cums. thomas is just so animalistic in nature, and much like when he's chasing after someone with his chainsaw, sometimes the beast just needs to be unleashed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

AN: I do not own the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise or any of its characters. I also do not own the song ‘Into You’ by Ariana Grande.

[novashelby]

Why Not Me? - Isaiah One Shot

Pairing: IsaiahxReader(based on Evie...but friendly to all)

Warnings: No Sex, but intimacy. Mostly fluff.

Though it is not a smut, I am adding this to the 100 prompt challenge.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: She just broke up with her boyfriend and Isaiah is there to tell her what's up.

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

“She’s crying again,” Finn said, rolling his eyes as he exited her room, the sandwich still in his hand. Again was the keyword. Some girls just suck at dating, and unfortunately for her, she was one of them. University didn’t make it any easier despite what her Aunty Ada said. Boys in university are intellectuals. Though, Ada herself didn’t know if she truly believed it. Finn sighed and bit one half of the sandwich before handing the other half to Isaiah, who’d been sitting on the sofa the whole time. “I’ll be back. I just got an errand for Aunt Pol downtown.” Finn swung his jacket on and nodded to his slightly older friend before leaving.

Isaiah put down his tea and turned his back, frowning a bit as he eyed the first door one reaches when climbing up the stairs. Her room. Poor girl spent quite a few days in that room crying. Though partially her fault. Isaiah slid from the couch and made his way up the stairs. Nervously, he hesitated knocking-his fist just hovering over the wood. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes and knocked. When she didn’t answer, he knocked a bit harder, eyes glancing at the stairs. Through the door, there was a muffled, “Finn, I don’t want the sandwich…just eat it.”

Isaiah scratched his nose and stuttered out, “um-hey, uh…it’s not Finn. It’s me…Isaiah.” Never had he considered himself a nervous man. Women were never a challenge and he was always smooth with his words. But her? Tommy Shelby’s little girl was something else. You had to handle her delicately. There was a slight gap in conversation before she mumbled a wait a minute. For what? Tommy forbade her keeping a lock on her door…she was a sneaky child, a sneaky teenager, and now? A sneaky adult. “Can I just come-oh!” As soon as his hand touched the brass door handle, it turned and opened. His eyes couldn’t help but go to the toes and scale up to her head, skimming over her body. Isaiah felt heat rise to his cheeks. To avoid embarrassment, he looked off to the side. She’d been wearing her white silk bathrobe. Underneath? He doubted it’d be smart to start letting his mind wonder. A pretty girl. Perhaps not conventionally…like the girls he usually chased after. You know? The model type with toned legs and symmetrical physiques. 

But she was pretty. The unique type with features that weren’t carbon copies on every other female. Isaiah appreciated that about her. The way she never tried to force herself into any box. As his brain tried to connect the wires, he thought about how her thighs touched even when she walked or how her belly rolled when she sat. 

And she never fucking cared. She wore what she wanted, ate what she wanted, talked to who she wanted. Her confidence was unmistakable. That’s why her crying behind her wooden door after some stupid breakup was pathetic. He couldn’t understand it. One boy after the other, and she’d wither away for a few days. Over boys that probably were too weak to lift her against a wall. 

“Is there something you need?” she asked, breaking his train of thought.

“W-what?” he blinked. Her brows raised, a grin for the first time that day played on her lips. “Oh, oh! Sorry…um, are you okay? Finn said you were upset about someone-thing…something. Not much, of course. Not that it’s my business or any-”

“I’m fine,” she said, holding her bathrobe together with one hand as she placed her other one on his shoulder. “Thank you, Isaiah. Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, words dragging as she was sliding by him. “I’d like to take a bath.” His eyes followed her as she started to walk down the hall.

“Wait!” He called out her name, and she paused, but didn’t turn. “You don’t deserve that…any of it. And y’know, you don’t talk to me anymore…about anything. Once you went off to university, you just-”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, still not turning to him. Tears were laying heavy on her lids again. At one point when they were kids, the four of them would go off and cause mischief. But Finn was learning the family business, Martha was getting married, Isaiah was working under Tommy, and her? She wanted to study nursing. They were no longer kids. Instead, people with lives. It was a good day if she and Finn even had a conversation. What did she have to say sorry for? 

“Explain something to me,” he said, walking towards her. And it was his time to rest his hand on her shoulder. He spoke her name again and slid around her. It was her time to avert her eyes attempting to hide the wetness dripping down her cheeks. But Isaiah didn’t mind any of it. He knew she was crying. Gently, he cupped her face, but when she flinched, he dropped his hands. “What’s changed? Me and you?”

“Something had to have been for it to change,” she said, insinuating nothing had ever happened between her and him. He chuckled for a moment, itching the tip of his nose. “What?”

“It’s funny,” he said.

“I know, you laughed. I’m asking what is funny-”

“You,” he accused. “You’re funny, Miss. Shelby…you used to talk to me. We’d joke and dance. When Finn would fall asleep, it was you and I who’d finish off the whiskey and discuss life’s biggest questions.” 

“Times change-”

“You still live at home,” he said. “You still live at home. You go to the local university three days a week. You still frequent the same jazz clubs. You still go to the same parties! For fucks sake, you’re the same person…nothing changes that much in a few months.”

“Isaiah-”

“No.” He shook his head. His hands gently gripped her arms, thumbs caressing her. She felt her body gently be pushed against the wall, head lightly pressing against a wobbly picture frame. She knew which one…the painting of her father’s mother. “You’ll fuck around with Tiny Tim from art class who can’t even bother to got to the door and introduce himself to your father-”

“I don’t need my father’s approval,” she snorted. “I’m grown-”

“You’re eighteen,” he said. “Hardly grown. Plus, you’re a lady under your father’s care. It’s the sensible thing to do-”

“And you introduce yourself to every womens’ father? Especially the ones you fuck on a Friday night and leave the next morning?” 

Isaiah went quiet for a moment before saying, “no. I don’t. But that’s different. And don’t ask how because I’m not explaining casual sex to you.”

That’s when she eased herself a bit, laughing lightly. That was the girl he knew. “And you, Mr. Jesus, enjoy casual sex? Why don’t you want to explain it to me, eh?”

He matched her smile, resting his forehead on hers. “Because, Miss. Shelby, casual sex isn’t for ladies. Besides, I think your father would kill me.” She looked down, playing with her hands as she wore a little grin. Isaiah cupped her face, thumbs caressing her lips before moving down to hold her hands. “You are much more than a casual encounter, Miss. Shelby,” he said in a whisper, bringing her hands up to his lips, and kissing them. 

“But how do you know I don’t like casual encounters?” she teased, but he wasn’t having it.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s not like that…you and I, and I refuse to let it be that.” 

“And are you my father?” she asked. “Everyone in this family thinks I’m-”

“Don’t,” he stopped her. “You’re deflecting. You knew exactly what I was saying-”

“That you’ll respect me in the morning?”

“Shhhh.” He kissed her cheek, lingering there for a moment before asking, “why not me? Huh? Why Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve and Dumb Danny and Asshole Adam and Prick Peter, but not me? Not idiot Isaiah-”

“I never dated boys with any of those names except a Peter-”

“You’re deflecting again,” he said. “Why not me?” Gently, he grabbed her chin and said, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you unlike Tiny Tim….”

“Who is Tiny Tim?” she laughed, not exactly denying him. In fact, she snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, feeling a sort of comfort in his chest. 

“That small fuck you were running around with last week,” he said, lowering his lips against hers. He brushed them against hers, a little smirk spread across his lips. She teased that he was being silly, but soon yelped as she felt him move his hands under her butt and lift her up. To hold herself steady, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Though he was pretty good about keeping her in place from the way he pressed her against the wall. “So, you didn’t answer me, why not? Why not me, Miss. Shelby? Huh?” 

“You never asked,” she grinned, just about pecking his lips. She pecked, but pulled away when he tried to lean in, teasing him. “So, I had to fuck around with Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve-”

“And Dumb Danny,” he added, moving in to kiss her, but she teased him again, biting his bottom lip. When he tried to rest his lips upon hers, she moved away again and kissed his jaw up to his ear, biting his lobe. 

“Don’t forget that prick Peter.”

“I want to forget,” he said, bracing her with his body weight and one hand while his other gripped her jaw, bringing her in. “C’mere,” he whispered, pressing his lips against hers. It was soft at first; just a string of pecks that became longer. His hand moved from her jaw and started to caress down her body. Without wanting to intrude, he slowly rested his hand upon her breast; not squeezing, just lightly running his hand along the curve before slipping it under the silk. As he moved it over her soft breast and down, the lacing came undone and the robe slipped down her shoulders. He stopped the string of light pecks and kisses, and asked, “we can stop if you’d like.” Shook her head, enjoying the feeling in her; warmth and excitement. She wasn’t an easy girl…her father made sure of that making sure she knew her worth. That’s probably why so many ‘boys’ left her…she never gave in so easy. 

She did him. Or was it really easy when it was something in the making from their youth? 

She licked at his bottom lip before nibbling and pulling it.  “Shhh,” she said as she took control, sucking and slipping her tongue between his lips, playing with him. Their pecks turned into fully blissful kissing that neither wanted to stop. Air was no longer important, they found as their lips followed each other’s movements. Her fingers tickled up the back of his neck to his hair before tangling in the curls. While his hand moved down her body, dancing over hips and walking over her thighs. Her skin was so soft, sweet, and innocent. He wanted nothing more, but to place a kiss over every inch of her body. For the first time, he felt like fucking was juvenile. It wasn’t about the sex. No. He wanted her close. It was all about the closeness. He wanted her so close to him that he could consume her. That he could just breathe her in and nothing else in the world would matter.

He pulled away, catching his breath, “sorry. Um, I don’t want to rush this.”

“What are we rushing?” she teased, trying to kiss him again, pressing herself against his aching crotch. 

“I want to take you to dinner,” he said, letting her down.  “I want to do it right. If I’m going to do this right with anyone, it’d be you. So, please, Miss. Shelby, can I take you to dinner?”

“I dunno,” she sang, reaching up and playing with his buttons. “Are you paying?”

He laughed out and shook his head, pinching her chin. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, alright,” she agreed, sliding from him and walking to her room. “But, you have to ask my father.” Isaiah grinned and eyed the phone on the small table downstairs. 

“Already on it, Miss. Shelby,” he called out. “What do you think I am? A lousy gangster?”

[babygirl-diaz]

Baby Fever

It was one of those Sundays when both Buck and Tommy had the day off. They planned on spending it lounging on the sofa in their sweats but then Maddie paid them a visit with Jee-Yun. She needed to talk to Buck about an inheritance their great-aunt Melody had left them and it was something that couldn't wait. While Buck and Maddie talked, Tommy volunteered to keep Jee entertained.

"According to Melody's will, you get half of the inheritance and I get the other half," Maddie explained.

"But why us? We have cousins, right? Why not them?" Buck asked.

"Well, she always adored us," Maddie shrugged. "And she didn't really trust anyone else."

Buck was about to reply when he heard a loud squeal and looked over to find Tommy chasing Jee around in the living room. Buck felt a tug in his heart when he saw that.

Maddie was saying something but Buck couldn't keep his eyes off Tommy playing with Jee. When he finally caught up with her, he picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again. He did that a couple times, making Jee squeal and giggle.

"Buck, are you listening to me?" Maddie asked tapping on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," Buck lied and tried to focus on Maddie again but his ears were still on Tommy and Jee.

"Where's Jee? I can't see her," Tommy was saying and then he gasped before saying, "There she is!"

Buck looked over again to find Tommy sitting cross-legged on the floor playing peek-a-boo with Jee. He couldn't name the feeling but suddenly he wanted babies with Tommy because he could tell Tommy would be a great dad.

"If you are more interested in thinking about ways your boyfriend can knock you up then we can do this another day," Maddie's voice brought him out of his thoughts again.

"Sorry, sorry," Buck quickly apologized. "I am listening," he assured her and then paused before adding, "By the way, who says he's going to be the one to do the knocking up."

When Buck coyly looked at his sister, he found her giving him a raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

Buck smirked and shrugged. "So, the inheritance. How and when do we get it?" He asked changing the subject.

After their discussion finished, Maddie and Buck got up and went to the living room where Jee was currently fast asleep, cradled in Tommy's arm. Tommy was also asleep on the couch and Buck felt the same tug in his heart again. He took out his phone and clicked a quick photo of the two of them.

"He's good with kids," Maddie commented.

"He is," Buck replied. "Christopher adores him as well."

Buck went over to Tommy to gently shake him awake. "Tommy."

Tommy slowly opened his eyes and looked confused for a moment before a smile tugged on his lips. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, babyboy, so Maddie and Jee have to go now," Buck told him.

Tommy looked at sleeping Jee in his arms and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course," he whispered and slowly got up with Jee. He looked a little reluctant as he handed her over to Maddie.

"We'll visit again," Maddie assured Tommy and smiled at him. She then gave Buck and Tommy a one-arm hug before leaving.

As soon as Buck closed the door behind her, he grabbed Tommy by the collar of his henley, pushed him against the door, and crashed their lips together. Tommy let out a surprised sound and Buck swallowed it, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

When Buck pulled away to kiss Tommy's jawline, Tommy breathlessly asked, "What brought this on?"

Buck trailed kisses down to his neck and bit down on a spot he knew was sensitive for Tommy.

Tommy moaned and tipped his head back, giving Buck more access to his neck.

Buck pushed a knee between Tommy's legs and kissed him again. "I want babies with you," Buck told him.

"Oh yeah? You wanna put one in me right now?" Tommy chuckled.

"You have no idea how much I want that. And trust me, if it was possible, I would do it," Buck replied in between the kisses.

"But that doesn't mean we can't have fun trying," Tommy smirked.

"But that doesn't mean we can't have fun trying," Buck agreed and kissed him one more time.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 11

Hello! More supernatural fun with our boys and I finally got to write that sexy blood drinking between Eddie and Steve that I had been wanting to write for the longest time, but all my vampire Eddie stories kept turning out angsty and there was no place for it.

Got you now!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve was enjoying his time with Josh. The younger boy was enthusiastic and friendly. He had even won over Tommy, which Steve had previously thought impossible.

He was going to be sad to lose him to Billy and get Chase in return.

He was also more careful about what he said around the young teen and Tommy now. As much as he enjoyed Josh’s company the thought that he might spill gossip on the pack to Billy when he is forced to finish the remainder of his service with the coven.

He was really on edge now that the full moon was coming, too. He could feel it under his skin. The way the moonlight’s strength was changing his body on the cellular level. His mannerisms and habits were becoming more and more wolf-like and less human.

He could feel the wolf’s strength in his arms and chest. Its cunning and instinct taking over his ability to rationalize.

When he shifted himself, he was able to keep himself. But the full moon was different. It stripped away every human thing about him. Maybe it was wrong for his foster parents to be afraid of him the rest of the time, but even he felt it was warranted the closer he got to the full moon.

“You can’t be serious about having him here,” Carol was hissing at him.

Steve’s lip curled as he bit back a growl. “I don’t know why it’s such a problem. Josh is going to be there.”

“Josh is a human that can be manipulated,” Carol insisted. “Eddie Munson is a made vampire with ties to the town’s oldest living supe. A close familial tie no less.”

The growl started in the back of Steve’s throat and ripped from his lips. “You are only a keeper, Carol, may I remind you?”

She put her hands on her hips, decidedly uncowed. “Yes and we used to be friends before you got a raging hard on for curly haired nerds.”

Steve huffed through his nose. “You mean the smartest girl in school, the latest in the longest line of hereditary keepers from the Buckleys, and the man who saved my life? Are those who we’re talking about Carol?”

She stared him down. “You are already facing problems with the older crowd, not being mated to your female alpha, do you really want to start your third year as alpha banishing half of your pack? Do you even realize how weak you already look to Billy? You’ve only managed to raise one of his eyebrows recently after the attack. Before that he thought the pack was too lame to even bother with.”

Steve could feel his hackles rise. His lips properly curled. “Yeah and you Billy’s bitch, too?”

Carol stepped back, stunned for the first time. “What do you mean, ‘too’?”

“Someone is going around behind my back and telling Billy pack business, Carol,” he snarled. “You one of them?”

She blinked up at him in shock. “Jesus fuck, Steve. I would never. Why would you even think that?” Tears came unbidden to her eyes. “I wouldn’t betray you like that. Fuck.”

“Well someone did,” Steve spat. “Billy knew about Josh’s news about the moon days before I had even gotten out of the mayor’s office, Carol. Which meant that it had to be someone in the pack. Who the hell am I supposed to trust if I can’t trust my own fucking pack!”

She took two steps forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I get it now. You want someone you can trust watching your back on Friday, but it can’t be Eddie. Trust me. I know you feel like you can’t, but you just said you have to trust someone, so trust me.”

Steve let out a low whine. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to so badly. She was right, they used to be friends. Good ones, too. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.

She nodded. “I get that. I can’t go back and change who I was in high school, but know that I’ve got your back. Okay?”

He swept her up in a hug and held on tight.

Behind them in the trees, a darkness seemed to taint the woods around it. A malevolent force that was all at once pleased and angry.

****

Steve was suddenly bombarded with members of the pack coming up to him about his desire to have Eddie participate in the full moon festivities. Most of them were negative.

“I don’t know how you heard about this,” Steve was saying for what felt like the billionth time. “But I don’t see why I can invite the man who saved my life to have my back during the full moon.”

“Because he’s a vampire, Steve!” Nancy hissed. “I have tolerated his presence in your life because until now it has not inferred with pack business, so as your alpha female, I’m putting my foot down. He steps even a toe over the pack boundary and I’ll be forced to challenge you myself.”

And that right there was his biggest reason why he wanted Robin to accept the bite to become a werewolf.

Steve thought about making her submit. He could have. But he wasn’t pack alpha just because he was the strongest male wolf in the pack. Oh no.

Steve lifted his chin and stared down at her, until she crossed her arms and looked away. He smirked.

Nancy rocked back on her heel and Steve knew he had won.

“All right,” he said with satisfaction. “He won’t toe the boundary.”

Her head snapped up in shock, her mouth open and eyes wide. “What?”

Steve pursed his lips and half shrugged. “You don’t want him on the ground, that’s fine.”

He turned his heel and walked away, leaving behind a stunned Nancy Wheeler.

“Steve!” she called. “Steve! What does that mean?”

****

Steve was curled up with Eddie on his bed in the trailer.

“Why are they so against it anyway?” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear.

“Because they think that what happens during the full moon is sacred,” he huffed.

“I still don’t get it,” Eddie admitted.

“It’s this really stupid thing, ‘it’s not a secret it’s sacred.’” Steve rolled in Eddie’s arms so that they were face to face. “It’s just their way of not wanting to talk about it to ‘strangers’. Like Wayne hasn’t been to a few in his long life.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s like they don’t realize that the world doesn’t revolve around them.”

“And it’s newer than they think, too,” Steve murmured. “According to Wayne it’s only been in the last decade or so.”

“So who arrived ten years ago?” Eddie asked, rubbing his nose along Steve’s pulse point.

Steve gasped. “That’s thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t a pack member at the time.”

That caused Eddie to sit up and look down at him. “What do you mean, sweetheart? I thought your dad was pack and your mom was bitten.”

Steve sat up, too and hugged his knees to his chest. “When I was seven or eight my parents were killed by hunters while they were abroad. It was really big news at the time. They were rich, well-liked, beautiful couple with a son at home.”

Eddie frowned. “I would have still been with my parents around that time. My mom would have been nearing the end of her cancer diagnosis, so I would have been focused on that instead of some news story.” He rubbed his chin. “So why were you removed from the pack?”

Steve buried his head into his knees. “No one has been able to tell me why I was fostered by a human couple and not a supernatural one. Only that it was right when Hop had gone off the deep after his daughter died.”

“So your parents are murdered by hunters, Hopper’s daughter dies, driving him into deep spiral, you get placed into the care of humans that are terrified of werewolves and abuse you...” he trailed off. “Honey, not to sound like a nutjob, but this is way too much of a coincidence to be natural.”

Steve nodded. “Someone didn’t want my dad vying for alpha, probably because he was too clever and too liberal minded.”

“And I don’t think they were expecting you to come back to the pack after you graduated,” Eddie concluded. “I think whoever killed your parents, orchestrated the attack on you.”

“Shit.”

Eddie was right and that really sent a chill down his spine. “I don’t trust anyone in my pack, Eds. Not a god damned one of them. I’m so frightened and I don’t know what to do.”

“So instead of having me there, have Wayne be there instead,” Eddie suggested.

Steve looked up. “What do you mean?”

“There is precedence for it,” he explained. “You said so yourself. Because god damn it, Steve, I’m terrified too.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and gently lowered them back on to the bed. He nuzzled Steve throat, breathing in the thrum of life right below his skin.

“Let me take care of you for awhile,” Eddie purred. He licked up the column of Steve’s neck causing him to moan obscenely.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Yeah, babe. Take care of me.”

Eddie’s fangs extended of their own accord. “Honey...I want to taste you. So, so much.”

Steve shivered. “Just not on my neck where they can see.”

Eddie moaned at how hard that made him. He would finally get to drink from his werewolf boyfriend and he knew exactly where he wanted to taste.

He slid down Steve body, the other boy bucking his hips at the agonizingly light touch of his hands.

Eddie licked down Steve’s cock, causing Steve to arch his back.

“Eds...” he whispered. His whole body was vibrating like a plucked guitar string.

Eddie nuzzled his balls and Steve panted heavily, his words lost to pleasure already. He brought up one of Steve’s legs to bending at the knee. He kissed down the thigh until his mouth was in the perfect spot. Right there on that magnificent thick muscle was a vein much like the on the neck or wrist.

Again he nuzzled Steve’s balls with his nose causing his boyfriend to gasp. He licked the spot he was going to partake from and god was the scent even more intoxicating then the throat. His saliva would numb the area so he wouldn’t hurt Steve.

“Baby...” Steve moaned, his body was beginning to quiver and shake.

Eddie’s teeth sank into the skin and Steve came immediately, his body practically levitating off the bed as his cum painted his stomach with ribbon after ribbon.

It took all of Eddie’s will to focus on feeding instead of coming himself. Steve’s stamina was legendary and for him to come that fast did things to Eddie. So hot.

“Fuck.”

Eddie could only agree. The blood was warm and golden. It tasted even better without the taint of fear and silver. He took only a few mouthfuls because he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop if he had gotten more than that.

Again he licked the area, this time it closed the wound. Eddie sat up and lined up his cock. He needed to come in Steve. He looked at him for permission and Steve nodded.

Eddie thrust into Steve’s ass and began to pound into those beautiful globes of flesh.

Soon Steve was coming again and Eddie followed soon after. Just seeing Steve come a second time was enough to finish him.

Eddie collapsed next to him on the bed.

“We are definitely doing that again,” Steve huffed, covering his eyes with his arm.

Eddie kissed his raised arm gently. “Yeah, sweetheart. I knew drinking made sex better, but holy shit that was a whole other level.”

Steve chuckled and curled around Eddie. “Agreed.”

****

Moon night approached and Steve was left without the protection of Eddie or Wayne. Despite Steve’s request for Wayne and bringing up precedence for him having done so in the past the pack was staunchly against it.

The moon came up and the pack changed. Their bodies rippled with heat and danger as humans gave way to their wolfish nature. Screams pierced the air. Screams that turned into howls.

The moon slid through the night sky and the pack surged forward as one.

The keepers watched on in silence.

Waiting.

Preparing.

Then the sun came up and in the middle of their compound was a puppy pile of naked bodies of all the werewolves, sleeping off the forced change of the full moon.

Suddenly Tommy came crashing in through the underbrush screaming and sobbing.

“Patrick McKinney was attacked last night!”

Steve leapt to his feet and Robin was at his side quicker than lightning. A slow dread filled his stomach as ice slid down his spine.

“Human or supe?” he snapped.

“Billy found him,” Tommy admitted, looking down at his feet. “He’s pretty sure it was supernatural, but the scent is too muddled, he can’t tell the kind.”

Steve looked around him and saw several of his pack with blood around their mouths and over their bodies.

“Steve!” Robin gasped as she took him in. “Look down!”

Steve immediately did as she asked. He too was covered in blood.

“What the hell happened last night?” he whispered.

****

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

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