#and we all know which one tommy's gonna take to heart...

[gracieheartspedro]

No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more. 

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you. 

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison. 

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you. 

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you. 

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself. 

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him. 

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool. 

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder. 

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top. 

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort. 

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you. 

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare. 

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation. 

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad. 

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks. 

-

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.” 

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt. 

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised. 

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go. 

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel. 

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter. 

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time. 

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again. 

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space. 

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips. 

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours. 

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure. 

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement. 

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts. 

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told. 

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh. 

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar. 

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue. 

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights. 

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there. 

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright. 

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure. 

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs. 

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck. 

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples. 

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him. 

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in. 

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later. 

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking. 

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you. 

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then. 

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places. 

Life is so mysterious and wonderful. 

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times. 

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip. 

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms. 

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist. 

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear. 

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down. 

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely. 

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin. 

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression. 

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe. 

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck. 

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way. 

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles. 

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

[talktonytome]

of beer facts and hoppy endings

a little something for @half-oz-eddie inspired by this post <3

Rated: E

Tommy licks the bead of sweat that’s rolling down Evan’s spine, as he grounds against his prostrate, but doesn’t thrust. It’s not the first or the last time. They’ve been at this for a while now, Evan steadily supplying all the facts he knows about beer, while Tommy drives him out of his mind with his cock, and he can feel the man tremble beneath him. They’ve covered most of the basic facts.

“Come on baby, give me another one and I’ll move again, hm?”

“Ungg,” Evan attempts to steady his breathing. “O- okay, did you know beer was brewed in China as early as 7000 BCE? B-but the first barley beer came from the Sumerians of Mesopotamia around 4000 BCE. They even had a goddess of beer— Ninkasi.”

“I asked for one and you gave me three, Evan. You being cocky, baby? Because if you are, I don’t know if I should reward it.”

“Please, Tommy,” Evan whines. “J-Just wanted to be good for you.”

“Shh, I know,” Tommy soothes, sliding a hand down his flank, his other arm wrapped around Evan’s chest, the only thing keeping him from slumping into the mattress. “You’re gonna take what I give you, okay?” He lowers his mouth to bite Evan’s earlobe, dragging his teeth in the way that makes him shiver so beautifully.

Tommy pulls out halfway and rewards Evan with a shallow thrust, not nearly enough, but he still whimpers and well, he can’t very well just leave him like that. He pulls out again until just the head of his cock rests inside the tight heat and slams deep inside, hitting Evan’s prostate dead on. He does it one more time and Evan tries to push back but he stills him, with a firm grasp to his hips.

Tommy tsks. “What did I say? You’ll take only what I give you… or we can stop, and I’ll make you watch me get myself off.”

“N-no!” Evan cries. “I’ll be good. Please don’t stop.” His knuckles are white where he’s holding onto the headboard of their bed.

“That’s what I thought,” Tommy smirks and leans down to lick the side of Evan’s neck. He applies just enough suction to the pulse point to make his breath hitch. “Alright, keep going. Gimme another one, surprise me.”

Evan groans, but readily complies, desperate for anything Tommy gives him. “Um. Uh, so old Vikings believed that in Valhalla, there is a giant goat whose udders would provide an unlimited supply of beer.”

That one makes Tommy snort. He’s gotta hand it to Evan, it certainly surprised him.

“Wouldn’t that be something?” He chuckles fondly, despite the lust-filled haze. “Good one, sweetheart. On the count of three, I want you to touch yourself- two strokes. If you disobey, this stops.”

Evan makes an unintelligible noise beneath him.

“I need words, baby.” He says in a softer voice. “Color?”

Evan lifts his head to look at him over his shoulder. His cheeks are flushed red, his sweaty curls are matted to his forehead and there’s a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Tommy thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. “Green,” he breaths out “M’good Tommy.”

“Good boy. Always so good for me Evan, so gorgeous.” He ducks down to press a soft kiss to his lips, and uses the arm wrapped around his chest to pull him back onto his knees and onto Tommy’s lap, until their bodies are pressed together.

“One.” Tommy brings his hands down to grip Evan’s hips. “Two.” He uses enough force to lift and slide him off his cock.

“Three.”

He buries himself back to the hilt at the same time Evan strokes himself and they both cry out at the sensation. In this position, Tommy slides into him even deeper.

Just as Tommy instructed, Evan only strokes himself twice. He lets go of his cock which is leaking obscenely with precome, and reaches down to hold onto Tommy’s arm instead.

“Beautiful.” Tommy murmurs, voice filled with awe. “Almost there, I promise. Let me hear another.”

Evan’s heart thuds rapidly beneath Tommy’s hand. He leans his head back onto Tommy’s shoulder as he contemplates.

“So. Uh. Darker beers can act as aphrodisiacs. The iron helps red blood cells with hemoglobin production, which carries oxygen around the body. This improves circulation, giving stronger erections a- and boosts libido. You clearly don’t need it,” he adds breathily.

“S’ that snark, Buckley?”

“No, just facts,” he says in a normal voice, but Tommy catches the cheeky dimple, as his mouth lifts into a smirk. And god, he loves him all the more for it.

“Hmm better not be.” Tommy uncurls the hand holding him and taps his fingers against his hip. “Lift yourself up and turn around for me?”

He can almost hear Evan’s pout as he reluctantly lifts himself off Tommy’s cock.

“Hey, I gave you a fact but I didn’t get my reward”, he frowns as he climbs back into Tommy’s lap. He wraps his arms around his neck and Tommy’s hands go back to gripping his hips.

“Brat.” Tommy chuckles. “So impatient. Just want to see your face when you come.” If Evan’s pupils could grow any darker, they would.

Tommy lets go of one hip and leans over to grab the bottle of one of his favorite craft stouts from the nightstand.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna ride me and you have until I finish this beer to come. If you don’t come before then, well…” He shrugs.

“Tommy,” Evan whines, hands tight on the nape of his neck.

“That’s the rule, sweetheart.” And because he’s generous like that. “You can touch yourself, too,” he adds.

Evan groans in relief and Tommy lets out a soft laugh. “I suggest you get to it.” He swats at Evan’s ass, who sinks back onto him with an almost comical urgency. He uses Tommy’s shoulder as leverage and begins to ride him in earnest.

Tommy downs a third of the bottle in one go, because let’s face it, neither of them is gonna last long.

Evan lowers one hand to fist cock, thrusting into it as he bounces on Tommy’s cock. Tommy watches, transfixed, feels his impending orgasm because even though he’s been edging Evan all night, he’s been denying himself too.

He takes another long pull of the beer, the strong, dark taste coating his tongue and filling his nostrils. Fuck a cigarette after sex.

Try a damn good beer during sex. His fingers dig into Evan’s skin on the side where’s he’s still gripping his hip. He’ll probably leave bruises. The thought alone makes his cock twitch and throb inside Evan.

“C-close.” Evan sighs, pace now erratic as his hand flies up and down his cock, completely smeared with precome. Tommy groans at the sight. His hand leaves its home on Evan’s hip to grip his wrist instead. He brings Evan’s hand up to his lips and makes a show of licking from the base of the wrist to the tip of his middle finger, collecting the precome along the way, while looking at him dead in the eye.

“Oh my god,” Evan shudders. “How are you so fucking hot?”

Tommy keeps the salty fluid on his tongue, as he brings the bottle of beer up to his lips for the last time. He swallows half and holds the rest in his mouth, then leans into to kiss it into Evan’s mouth.

The kiss is sloppy and so, so unbelievably hot. He pries Evan’s lips with his tongue and kisses him deep and filthy, making him taste himself along with the heady beer. Suddenly, he feels warms ropes coating his abs.

When he pulls back, he realizes Evan came just from that.

“Oh god, baby,” he groans. “How are you real?”

Evan only blinks at him, still in his orgasmic daze.

“Are you good if I keep going? I’m almost there.”

Evan nods, sighing dreamily. “Please.”

Tommy sets the now empty beer bottle back on the nightstand and gently pushes him back onto the mattress, cock never leaving his body. He makes sure Evan is comfortable before he thrusts in earnest, drawing little punched-out noises from his throat.

Tommy buries his face into Evan’s neck, kissing and mouthing at the skin, as he hurls toward the edge. “So. fucking. perfect.” He babbles. “How’d I get so lucky? God, Evan, you were made for me. No one else could ever—”

He thrusts one, two, three more times, before filling Evan with a frankly surprising amount of come, after teasing them both for so long.

“I love you,” he says into damp skin.

Evan’s smears a kiss onto his temple. “Love you.”

After they catch their breath, he reluctantly pulls out and rolls over to lay beside Evan. “That was-“

“Wow.”

“Yeah? It wasn’t too much?”

Evan turns to look at him and smiles. “Never. It was perfect. Although, if I start getting hard-ons around beer now, I’m blaming you!”

“Come on, ey!” Tommy laughs, pulling him to lay on his chest. He nuzzles his face into Evan’s curls.

“I’m onto you, Kinard! If only people knew how much of a menace you are” Evan mumbles, tongue darting out to playfully lick Tommy’s nipple.

“And you’re insatiable.”

“But you love it.”

Tommy grins, dropping a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, I really do.”

also on ao3

[corazondebeskar-reads]

could be

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

this ficlet is brought to you by @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my assigned color was "pretty clicker" (which tbh idk if we needed to include the color but I did anyway lol).

genre: pwp (I tried my best) prompt: "whoa, that's a new one."

words: 1.7k

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

warnings: pwp, oral (m&f receiving), handjob, fingering, joel and reader are astoundingly bad at emotions, a few playful spanks, tommy makes an off-screen cameo, old man joel my beloved, antics, absolutely no proofreading or beta reading whatsoever rip sorry

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Whoa, that’s a new one,” drawls the man as he steps out of the shadow of the copse. “ If it ain’t the prettiest little clicker I’ve ever seen.” 

You scowl, tugging the hat off, boot scuffing the dirt as you grind the frustration of being caught out into the soil. It gives with some difficulty, the late autumn’s early frost already turning the ground to stone. “Shut up, Joel,” you mutter. 

“That always work for ya? How haven’t you gotten shot yet?” He says, jerking his head down at the ball cap you’ve adorned with the decapitated clicker’s face.

(Or should you say disembodied? Dessicated? Desecrated? Whatever, you cut the fucking mushrooms off a dead fucker and stuck them on a hat. The terms don’t matter.) 

“Yep. Not too many fools out here who will go looking for a clicker when they hear one.”

“It’s a good impression, darlin’, but it’s not quite enough to trick me.” He’s drawn close, maybe too close, and curls two fingers under your chin, drawing your gaze to his grizzled face. 

You roll your eyes. “You a clicker whisperer or something?” 

His lips curl. “Not quite, no.” He lets his hand fall from your chin, and you watch it go. 

When you look back up at his face, you’re caught. Trapped. His grin is solemn, as if he, too, feels the snare.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” he says, instead of acknowledging the way you’ve drawn a breadth closer. 

“Sure do,” you drawl. 

He chuckles. “Alright, keep your secrets. But, uh—my back ain’t what it used to be, so the forest floor ain’t gonna work for me today.”

Your lips curl. “Presumptuous, are we?”

“You’re lookin’ at me like a piece of meat, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’tcha?”

“Guess you must be desperate, then, ‘f’you’re back for an old man like me.”

“Guess so,” you hum and give in. “How d’you always find me?”

“Hmm, don’t you worry ‘bout that, alright? All you gotta know is that I do always find you, and I’ve got some of Tommy’s peanut butter cookies in my bag for ya.”

“My hero,” you press one hand over your heart while the other makes the universal ‘gimmie’ gesture at his backpack. 

“Could be, y’know,” he mumbles. 

You both ignore the slip. He rifles around in the bag and pulls out a tin. You try to snatch it from him, but he pulls away with a wagging finger. 

“Nope, not yet,” he says with a teasing lilt, his drawl drawing out. He hands you one precious sweet and tucks the rest back into his bag. “If I give it to you now, you’ll just run off, and then what’ll I have?”

“A sense of satisfaction from being kind?”

You share a laugh at your joke as he leads you not to the safe “house” but up to the old, creepy lodge you avoid like the plague. Or. Well. Like the Infected. 

“Calm down, I already cleared it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s got a real bed, though, sweetheart, so I can take my time with ya.”

“You mean so you don’t break a knee fuckin’ me over a log?”

“It didn’t break. Jesus. How old do you take me for?”

“Old as shit,” you mutter. 

He just grins. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’. You just get brattier the longer you’re away. Ain’t got any good cock back home?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but it’s close to the truth. There’s cock back home, sure, but then you’d have to fuck one of those losers, and you just know Joel’s ruined you. 

Ruined you with intent and precision, and now he’s taking you by the hand and leading you up into the lodge’s dusty halls and into what must have once been a nice guest room. 

You whistle. “Did you clean this just for me?” You ask, batting your lashes. 

“If I say yes, you gonna be sweet for me?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “So get your ass up here.”

You quickly shimmy out of your sweats and climb up to straddle him, but his grin splits wider in a lecherous stretch. 

“You think I brought you here for you to ride me? Y’can do that shit in the woods. Get up here.”

You hesitate. “I live in a fucking camp, Joel.” The “without running water” bit is obvious but unspoken.

“I do not give a shit,” he says bluntly. “Get up here.”

“Your funeral,” you say with a shrug, and let him help you settle over his face. You’re barely steady when he grabs your hips and pulls, bringing you to meet him. 

It’s been… longer than you can even remember, and oh shit. Either your memory hasn’t done this justice, or the last man to eat you out was fuckin’ terrible because this is nothing like you’ve ever known. 

But he doesn’t dive in and rush it. He doesn’t go straight to sucking on your clit; he doesn’t push three fingers into your cunt to work you open for his cock. 

Oh, no. You’ve been had, you think. This setup was an elaborate trap to wipe your mind clean and replace everything with thoughts of him. He’s brought you here to the second closest place of safety he knows so he can take his fuckin’ time with you. 

His hands are gentle on you, and he nuzzles into your mound to part your folds, his wide nose pushing between to seek out his prize. The tip of his tongue pushes out to help, tracing the tiny slit of your cunt. At the first taste of you, he groans, drawn out and filthy. 

“Shit,” he pants, hot breath scattering across the soft peaks and valleys. “It’s been too goddamn long.”  He seems to be talking to himself, which is good because you can’t wrangle more than a tangled gasping whimper in response. 

He brings his hands up underneath you to grip your inner thighs, pulling to spread you more so he can watch you start to glisten. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling back in to lap it up. “Mmm, baby, is all this for me?”

“Shoulda known you wouldn’t shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re addicted to his filthy mouth most of the time.

“Shut me up then,” he says in a way you simply cannot refuse. 

You grind down on his face, expecting protest, but he moans in a way you can only classify as slutty. He buries his face between your thighs with a growl and gets to work. 

You can barely hold yourself up after the first orgasm he coaxes from you, all powerful tongue and gentle lips. 

“Y’ain’t quittin’ on me, are ya?” He taunts. 

“I thought you were gonna shut up.” 

He smacks your ass. “Turn around.”

When you do, he pushes you down to lay on him. “Get nice and cozy with my cock, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You take the invitation but before you can pull him free from his jeans, he’s diving back into his personal all you can eat buffet and showing no sign of slowing. 

Eventually, you manage to pry his ridiculous monster cock from its denim confines and try, really try, to focus on it, but it’s so hard (you giggle as you tell him) when he keeps doing that thing with his teeth and your clit. After the third time, you find yourself just moaning and drooling around it; you give up and rest your head on his thigh, content to hold it in your hand and lick. 

He spanks you again. “Don’t be a tease.”

You try to protest, but he bests you by attempting to suck your soul out of your clit while hammering two thick fingers against your g-spot, and it’s all over for your brain. Poor thing never stood a chance against Joel anyway. 

You squirm away from the menace when he attempts to keep going and smack him in the face with a pillow when he whines. He wipes his beard on it and throws it back at you. 

You can’t hold back your questions now that you’re back up and running. “How d’you have the time for this?” 

“Hmm?” Joel grunts, a hand tugging lazily at his dick while he surreptitiously slides his hand down the length of your thigh and back up. 

You turn on your back, swatting his hand away. “You’re usually in a rush.”

He turns a little pink. “Don’t matter.”

“Uh, it clearly does. I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s nunya.”

You groan. “Think I liked it better when you were too busy eating me out to talk.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You throw the cum-stained pillow back at him but miss by an embarrassing overshot. It arcs over him and into the floor between his side of the bed and the wall. 

You shrug. “Gone forever,” you say and throw an arm over your eyes dramatically. 

It’s a good thing, too, since the pillow hits you in the face. 

“I’m on watch here,” he says once you stop screeching indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” you let him know solemnly. 

“Ain’t alone. M’brother—Tommy,” he clarifies unnecessarily, “S’here too. He’s got it handled.”

“Oh my god, did you ask your brother to cover for you so you could get laid?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Aw, Miller. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you drawl. 

He plays it off with another eye roll and scoffs, but the thing is—you know. He stopped asking you to think about moving to Jackson a long time ago. But slowly, he’s been taking you closer and closer to town when you meet up. 

And you’re pretty sure he’s using Tommy’s cookies as a reward. Each time he lures you closer, he brings more treats the next time. You’d be mad at the absolute gall, but… it’s not not working, so you only have yourself to blame.

When you catch his eye again, he makes a point to hold your gaze and draw it down to his leaking cock, and you know he knows. You won’t go with him, so he’ll have you here. Jackson is not your home. But that quiet drawl in your head that sounds unnervingly similar to the man sprawled before you whispers, it could be.

[iwannabe4everyoung]

Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Serie Masterlist

Coming back to the old house

The Babysitter Serie: Pt I

Pairings: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x F!Maximoff!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Summary: When you broke up with your girlfriend you decided to come back to places you know by your heart.

Warnings: Not proofreaded,

Wc: 1,5k

A/n: Nothing really happen here cuz i didn't had idea what i can add more but everything need to start somewhere.

Your girlfriend, well, now ex-girlfriend, cheated on you. You caught her red handed when you came back earlier from a job interview, than you told her. After packing all your things you left her apartment and pulled out your phone searching for your mothers number. She didn’t answer. You called three, maybe four times but all your calls got rejected. You decided to call your father, he was never answering your calls so it wasn’t surprising he did not answer now. When leaving the calls app, you saw that one number. Before you knew you were calling her. Two signals were enough. 

“Sweetheart?” Hearing this voice makes you let out sobs. 

“Hi, uhm, can..go to my home and tell my mother to call me back?” Tears falling down your face. All you needed now was a hug from your mother. 

“Shh, sweetie, chill out. I am going to Wanda, and you need to take deep breaths.” When she was saying it, you could hear sounds of leaving the house. “ Oh.. I think there's no one home.” More sobs leaving your mouth.

“Shit.. I- Thank you ms. Vidal.” You said wanting to hang up.

“I told you to just call me by mine name.” 

After a few seconds of silence she started talking again.

“You can tell me what happened. Only if you want.” And you told her.Full story with breaks to take deep breaths. She didn't need to be around for you to feel more comfortable and safe than you were a few minutes ago. “Mhmm,  I'm gonna get Agatha and Nicholas and we will come for you.”

“You don't need-”

“Y/n.” 

“Okay… Thank you..”

“No problem sweetheart.”

Rio Vidal and Agatha Harkness, family house neighbors. They bought a place next to your family when you were sixteen. At that time you saw them a few times. Your first thought was how pretty and hot they are. Not even a year later they had their new house ready to move in. That was the first time you saw their little son, Nicholas Scratch. It was weird for you, why does Nico have a different last name, but soon later you learned that they couldn't decide which last name he should have or which one should come first. They decided to name him Scratch after their rabbit, Señor Scratchy

For the first few weeks you didn't really talk, but when your parents, Wanda Maximoff and Jarvis “Vision” Stark, invited them for dinner, you started forming some kind of friendship. Your mother didn't really like them, but you saw them as pretty cool people. Soon after you learned they are witches as your mother and younger brother. Well, you kind of were a witch too but you weren’t as good as your mother or Billy. That was also the main reason Wanda never really helped you with your powers. 

As you were in high school you started spending more time in your neighbor's house than in your own. All your parents cared for were Billy and Tommy. Your younger sibling. You were often ignored, not talking about how many times they missed something important even though you asked them to attend. But Agath or Rio were always there. When you told them for the first time how Wanda missed one of your school plays, they promised either of them would be there for you. You started bonding with Nicholas too by going out on the walks with him and playing many games. 

At some point Agatha was the one to teach you how to use your, not so strong, magic. Her touches on your skin never failed to make you shiver, and the looks Rio was always giving you made your heart always stutter. 

When  you were leaving for college, you realized you felt more for them than you should. Going to another city allowed you to forget about those forbidden feelings, you even met your ex that you fell for. You promised them you would write to them but you never did. It was easier to avoid those feelings they were making you feel. Calling either of them was so embarrassing to you. You ghosted all their texts and now you called them on a random day. 

After 2 years of college you decided to abandon it and go to work, well, it was your ex's idea but you never could find any job. You and Kate met at college. She was older, and also first to talk to you and confess. She wanted you to move in with her so you did. Not even 3 months later she started saying how useless you are if you can’t even find a job. Now you know why she never wanted you home. 

“You really didn't need to come here. I Could have taken the train with my spare money.” You said after Agatha and Rio hugged you. 

You sat in the back seat, next to Nico. He only took your hand and hugged it then fell asleep again. 

“You called for a reason.” Rio said first. 

“Besides I don't think you would be able to go on the train judging how you look.” Said Agatha, concentrating on the road. 

“Agatha.” Rio slapped her arm. “We care about you sweetheart, we are friends right?

You only nodded looking out of the window. 

After a long ride and not so long talks you arrived at your small city. Nicholas sleeping on your knees. He crawled on them somewhere in the middle of the ride. You took your things and after thanking Agatha and Rio for the hundred times, you walked to the doors of your own house. You grabbed the door handle.Closed. So you knocked. And knocked. And your father opened doors. We had a fancy suit on him, his blue eyes piercing through you.

“You don't need to pretend to be human, it's just me dad.” You said with a joking tone but with a serious face.

“What are you doing here?” That was the first word he said to you.

“You won’t even let your own daughter in?”

“Sorry, yeah, come in Y/n.” He moved aside so you could walk in. Even took your bag. “Me and your mother just came back from the Tonys party. 

“That's why you couldn't even pick up the phone.” You said sarcastically and wanted to roll your eyes, but your mother walked to the room at the same time

“Baby, what are you doing here?” She looked more surprised than Vision.

At first you stayed silent and hugged your mother. After a few seconds you started talking, but you couldn't tell them everything. You didn't tell them most of the story, as much as you needed them ,  needed your mother arm around you, you don't feel that emotionally close to them to tell all things that happened. So you shortened it to how Kate cheated on you and that you don't have a place to stay now. 

It was always like that. You spend most of your childhood and teenhood in your room or your neighbors house because your own parents were often forgetting about you, patronizing your younger brothers. 

“Ohh baby, I’m sorry. I'm gonna prepare a guest room for you… Your room is now Williams room.” Wanda petted your head leaving you with your father. 

“Y/n!” You heard Tommy's voice and soon after two bodies were hugging you. 

After spending time with your brothers, not like you had any choice. They decided you will sit with them and talk, and maybe play on playstation. By playing together they meant you would sit and watch them play. Last time you saw Billy and Tommy was more than a year ago. You had a big argument with Wanda and Vision back then. You invited them to dinner with your ex-girlfriend. You can’t even remember why you started to argue, for sure it was something stupid like always. But this time you stopped talking. Few times you wanted to send a message to your mother, but Kate was always faster to say about how badly they treated you and you don't need them. 

After Wanda made boys go to wash and sleep, you could finally have some alone time. You didn't think you would ever again sleep under your parents roof, but here you are. You were quietly listening to music, soft sounds always were helping you to fall asleep,but soon music stopped when you started getting notifications. Reading the first of them made your heart stop for a while.

Rio Vidal made group chat with you and Agatha Harkness

Rio: Hi sweetheart :D

Rio: We hope we can back in touch, we missed you

Agatha: Nicholas missed you

Rio: We and Nico missed you

Agatha: Rio and Nico*

Rio: I'm gonna kill you.

You: I missed you too

You: Sorry I ghosted you for… such a long time

You: Life was kinda hard

Rio: It’s okay dear, college is big step

You: Yeah, but it wasn’t fair to you 

Rio: Leave it

Rio: Why don’t we meet tomorrow?

Rio: We could talk about everything

You: Why did Agatha stop replying?

Rio: She's pretty busy now

Rio: Well, what will you say?

Rio:  Wanna meet?

Rio: Tomorrow, at our place, maybe 7? or 8?

[mariposa-drowned]

Hear me out, Ellie x pregnant reader doing the trend where you lift up your s/o belly to relieve the weight and then having a lil heart to heart bc you just feel so useless due to said pregnancy

Ellie was currently scrolling tiktok as you sat on the couch together, your attention being taken up by whatever show you had thrown on TV, not even noticing the sound coming from Ellie's phone, you were so used to her needing multiple different forms of entertainment at the same time that it barley even phased you anymore.

You were eight months pregnant and ready for this baby to be out. You're tired all the time and can't stand for too long without discomfort, which made you feel useless. No matter how much Ellie assured you she was completely fine with taking over daily tasks, even having Joel over sometimes to entertain you while she worked on stuff, or the other way around. Tommy had even been over a few times with Maria as she tried to offer you tips and tricks on how to deal with the discomfort.

Ellie felt terrible that she couldn't do more for you. Besides massages and the occasional sex that you swore helped; Ellie was always looking for ways to help. Which is why when a video popped up of a man getting behind his wife to lift her pregnant belly for a few seconds, Ellie was immediately ushering you up, hoping that you would get the same relief that the girl in the video seemed to get.

"Ellie what the hell are you doing"

"just trust me babe this is gonna feel great"

"don't kill me please. Or the baby"

Ellie rolled her eyes, positioning herself behind you, her long arms coming to intertwine right below your bump.

"kay take a deep breath"

You huffed but did as told. Then a sudden rush of incredible relief filling you as Ellie lifted your bump up you groaned, your hand reaching behind you to entangle itself in Ellie's hair.

"hooolyyy fuck Ellie"

"yeah? That feel good mama?"

"ohmygod can we just stay here for a minute please"

"as long as you need babe"

You were practically on the verge of tears from the relief you were currently feeling, you hand gripping a bit harder where it was entangled in Ellie's hair. She noticed your teary eyes, quickly becoming concerned.

"hey what's wrong am I hurting you?" She worried as she slowly started to drop your belly.

"don't you dare drop your hands Ellie Williams"

You immediately gripped her hand with a force she didn't even know you possessed.

Ellie immediately reassumed her position "christ babe sorry, was just a bit worried when my wife starts crying"

"just feels really fuckin good els" you stated with watery eyes

"hey hey don't cry mama, it's alright I'll do this whenever you need until they're here babe. It's alright"

"m'sorry just feels s'nice, I just feel so useless because I'm so uncomfortable all the time n I can't do anything"

Ellies heart broke a little at your confession "don't be sorry at all, you hear me?" C'mon let's go sit for a minute, I promise I'll do this again later, jus' wanna talk to you"

You leaned your head back to try and meet her eyes, your vision still a bit blurred

"pinky swear?"

"cross my heart babe. C'mon I'm gonna start lowerin my hands now"

You tried to keep her there as long as you could, but inevitably Ellie's hands left their place under your stomach. You sighed as she started to lead you to the couch. She plopped down, spreading her legs and ushering you in-between them to which you promptly did, getting as comfortable as you could in-between her legs.

Ellie grabbed one of your hands, the other resting on your bulging stomach tracing small shapes.

"I need you to listen to me for a minute babe"

You tilted you head back to lean on your shoulder semi-looking at her while humming a small mhm

"I love you. So much. But you need to understand that you are actively making a living being in you right now. You are allowed to be sick and tired and uncomfortable, it's expected. But you need to understand that we are in this together. I will always be here, I want to be here for you, which means that if you can't do something, I pull my weight here. That's my job mama, I gotta take care of you and little bean" Ellie smiled through her last sentence, looking down to meet your smiling face aswell

"I love you els. Thank you, for everything"

"always and forever babe"

"always and forever" you smiled back at her, leaning up to give a peck on Ellie's lips.

[peppermintquartz]

Hen wonders if Buck realizes how loudly he broadcasts his thoughts and feelings. He's better at keeping his mouth shut, for which Hen is grateful - she does not need to hear about Buck's sexcapades ever again - but his face expresses everything that comes into that pretty head of his.

Like right now, for example.

It's the Firefighter Challenge regionals and Tommy's signed up after losing a bet to Eddie, and now Buck is torn between supporting his boyfriend and supporting Eddie representing the 118.

"They'll give a good showing at least," Chimney says, offering some churros to Hen and Buck. Hen takes one and Buck declines. "But they're going up against Wesley from the 114. They gonna be trounced."

"Eddie will beat that guy," Buck says loyally. His brow is furrowed as he tries to pick out his best friend from the assembled challengers. He brightens and waves his hand wildly. "There he is!"

Chimney grins. "Wesley's represented the west side in the nationals for three years running. Eddie's good, but he's not that good."

"And more importantly: will Tommy beat Eddie?" Hen inquires slyly.

Buck's face falls and he wails, "I don't know!" He goes on tiptoes to try to locate Tommy, but everyone is in their SCBA and there's too many people between them and the starting line.

"We should've signed up for the team events," Ravi says as he joins them. "Boost morale, team-building..."

"I prefer my morale boosted through snacks and alcohol," Hen deadpans. When she glances at Buck, she wants to laugh out loud. The poor kid looks like he's an icon of despair.

Buck sees Hen looking at him and sulks. "I can't find Tommy!"

Denny doesn't sulk as good as that. Hen smothers her amusement. "We'll see their names - oh, look, the display is on. We're about to begin."

The tinny sound of the commentators come across the speakers with heavy distortion, but Buck cheers and whoops when they hear something like "Diaz from Station 118!"

"I don't hear Thomas Kinard," Ravi observes unnecessarily after the names were all read out.

Buck is frowning hard enough to crack a walnut with his face. "That doesn't make sense. Tommy definitely signed up, I was with him when he did." He takes out his phone and types rapidly. Then his face clears and he is sunshine again, even as he is rolling his eyes. "Sly asshole. He signed up for the Over 40 category."

He clearly doesn't mean the asshole comment, and it's good that he can be so fondly annoyed by his boyfriend. Not merely infatuation and novelty, then. Maybe soon they'll have their first fight. Maybe she can advise him, or Maddie or Bobby will. Doesn't matter. As long as they're on the same page.

Chimney guffaws. "Well that's one way to avoid Wesley!" Before anyone can say more, they hear the pop of the starting gun and a tumult of cheers erupt from the spectators. Buck roars his support, nearly knocking Chimney and Ravi over when he throws up his arms when Eddie pulls ahead in the climb up the tower.

Laughing to herself as the guys get into the spirit of the competition, Hen thinks it's good that Buck can be so open and in touch with his feelings. Wearing his heart on his sleeve isn't such a bad way to live.

[goosita]

first of all i love you. really. everything that you're writing is making my life so much better, so thank u <3 if that's okay for u, could you write something where reader is a single mom, she has a little girl and her daughter is very attached to billy? and it's the most sweetest thing ever cause billy loves her, calls her little princess (very sweet tooth 😭) one night, her daughter asks billy to read a storie for her to sleep and he does so and in the end, she says something like "i wish you were my dad" and it's just so cute and funny cause she gagged everyone, reader is like "babe!!!!" while billy is in shock but at the same time his heart is melting 🥺🥺 (sorry if this is too much, just write if u want!)

oh im. gonna cry and sob and piss everywhere this is the sweetest softest thing ive ever read yes oh my god

billy would be so so sweet with your daughter, especially if she was around 4-6 years old. at first you were worried that a man like him wouldn’t want anything to do with a single mother, especially one as young as you. but he never asked you to explain, and never judged you for it. all he ever did was treat you like a queen, and your daughter like a princess.

and your little girl is just enamored with him. she follows after him like a little duckling, so much so that billy starts to call her “ducky”. it makes her giggle every single time, always makes billy smile all warm and fond. they get on like a house on fire, your man and your baby girl. billy teaches her things like how to ride a horse, how to tie all kinds of knots, how to rope a little goat even. your daughter tells you one evening, her little face very serious, that she thinks “billy knows everything, mama. everything!” you want to let her believe it for as long as possible.

on this particular day, all 3 of you had spent the day together. billy had showed up bright and early to take you for a picnic out in a meadow behind your house, a daylong excursion that lasted until the sun slowly set. it was late spring, cicadas beginning to sing in the tall grass. once it got dark outside, billy pulled out a jar and showed your daughter how to catch fireflies. once they had about 10 of them, they sat on the blankets with their heads ducked together to observe them, giving each one a unique name.

“let’s call this one tommy,” she says, pointing at a bug near the bottom.

“perfect name, ducky. how’d you get so good at this?”

your little girl giggles, shrugging and letting billy name the next one. it makes your heart so happy to see a man with so much patience and love for your daughter.

when you finally return to the house, it’s time to get your kid ready for bed. tired and pliant from her long day outside catching bugs and weaving flower crowns (that of course billy taught her how to do), she goes down without much of a fight. she does ask billy to stay and tell her a bedtime story, though, and he’s never been one to deny that sweet little face whatever she wants.

you half-listen as billy spins some wild tale about a princess who slay dragons herself, one who doesn’t need a prince to come and rescue her. she’s strong and brave and guess what? she looks just like your little girl, same hair color and little lilac colored dress. his story makes her smile, even as her sleepy eyes begin to blink more slowly. when he finishes, he leans down to kiss her forehead softly and tuck her blanket around her small little body.

“i wish you were my daddy,” she murmurs sleepily, rubbing her eye with one small fist. you see billy freeze and slowly look to you, unsure what to say.

“oh, baby—“ you start, taking a step forward. billy gently cuts you off, which you welcome, not sure what to tell her.

“you know, ducky, sometimes i wish that too,” he whisper conspiratorially. her eyes light up curiously.

“really?” she asks, looking up at him.

“mhm,” he says with a nod. “but i think this little thing we have going here is even more special. you know why?”

she waits for an answer, eyes full of curiosity and wonder at the man sitting on the edge of her bed.

“because i didn’t help to give you life, life gave you and me to each other. and that’s pretty special, don’t you think?”

your little girl smiles, nodding her head. you swallow hard, your eyes feeling a little misty at the way he loves your baby and she loves him. it’s so pure, so unconditional the way they’ve attached themselves to each other.

billy smiles at her and brushes her hair away from her face, giving her chubby cheek a soft caress.

“sweet dreams, baby girl.”

“goodnight billy,” she says with a little yawn, snuggling down into her pillow. billy blows out the oil lamp beside her bed, following you out of her bedroom and closing the door softly.

“i’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn—“ he’s cut off by you grabbing his face and pulling him down into a dizzying kiss. you smile against his mouth when he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss you back, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.

“thank you,” you whisper when you finally break away for air. “for loving both of us, for taking care of us.”

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that. i’ll always be here to take care of my two best girls,” he says with a grin, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “and who knows? maybe one day soon you’ll let me put a ring on that pretty little finger and that little girl in there can call me whatever she wants.”

[corrodedcorpses]

Boys on Film

Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader

Summary: Eddie and Steve have been your best friends for years. Although they've never done or said anything to make you feel bad, you can't help but feel inadequate to them when it comes to sexual experience. After they star in their first Threesome together, some weird emotions arise.

Warnings: Smut (18+), light angst, Masturbation (female), Voyeurism, Oral sex (m & F), Double penetration, watching porn (?)

Word count: 5.7k

a/n: I know I said I was going to post part 2 of this on my Ao3 but I think this account has finally revived itself! So part 2 will be up on here and Ao3 in a couple of days!

Also thank you to everyone for sticking around while my account was doomed, ily 🖤

Part 2 // Part 3

Eddie and Steve have been your closest friends for years.

Your friendship with Eddie started out your first week of highschool and the first week of Eddie’s third year. Eddie had seen you wandering the crowded halls, head down and gripping the strap of your worn backpack, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. 

There was something about you, your shyness and innocence that Eddie seemed drawn to. He had thought about approaching you but couldn’t work up the courage or a good enough excuse to talk to you. 

Everytime your eyes met for a brief second you quickly looked away and Eddie saw, what he assumed, was fear in your eyes everytime you did. He was honestly surprised how fast his reputation spread, even to the newer students, but he was used to it by now. 

Luckily for him, as you sped through the halls at the end of school one day, head down low and staring at the floor, you had unknowingly stepped right into his path… and smashed right into his chest. 

You looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes and he offered you a kind smile back. He expected you to just run away, no one else bothered to apologise when they ran into him, but instead you stammered out a tiny “S-sorry, I didn’t see you, there’s just um, so many people”. 

Eddie was shocked for a second, his cold heart melting slightly at your tiny voice, but quickly regained his confidence and reassured you that “It’s totally fine, gets pretty crazy here at the end of the day”. 

“Yeah,” you’d replied with a sigh, “It’s gonna take some getting used to that’s for sure. People don’t just create a path for me when I’m coming.” you’d said with the slightest, still nervous chuckle, attempting to lightheartedly tease him. 

Eddie’s chest ached at the sound. “Well stick with me little one,” Eddie assured, throwing an arm around your shoulders and changing his original direction to walk with you, “I’ll protect you.” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics but couldn’t help looking up at him with awe in your eyes, blushing when he winked and smirked at you. “Now, where are we headed?” 

After that it seemed Eddie had decided that you were (somehow) worthy of his friendship and affection. You still don’t know why he had decided to be so nice to you that day but you were more than thankful. You’d both been inseparable ever since and although it had never progressed to anything more than friendship, you loved him dearly. 

4 years later at the end of your (Eddie’s third) senior year, he introduced you to the “now super metal” Steve Harrington.

At first you were apprehensive of Steve after hearing the rumours of “King Steve” and being no stranger to insults being thrown your way from Tommy H, Carol and the rest of the basketball team, even after Steve had graduated. 

Just like Eddie. 

Which is why you were so confused when he insisted on you giving Steve a chance and that he was sure you’d actually like him. You’d also heard the kids from Hellfire (especially Dustin) also gush over Steve, so eventually, with a lot of convincing, you decided that maybe he deserved a chance. 

Your first time meeting Steve properly was over at Eddie’s trailer, he’d insisted that the best way to break the ice was to all get high together, a habit you’d picked up thanks to the metalhead himself. You weren’t surprised that Steve also smoked, having heard about his infamous parties. 

Eddie had given you a ride home from school that day and you thankfully had a few hours with just him before Steve arrived after work. You were hoping that hanging out with Eddie would calm your nerves at spending time with Steve but unfortunately you spent the whole time practically pacing around the whole trailer, while Eddie watched you from the couch. 

Eddie found it amusing (and a little bit cute) how nervous you were but did his best to try and reassure you. 

“Don’t you remember that awful rumour that Carol spread around school about me?”

“You’ll have to be more specific sweetheart, which one?” He teased with a chuckle. Not helping. 

You glared back at him. “My point exactly. And Steve just stood there as they all laughed at me, at us practically the whole way through highschool!” You were almost yelling now. 

“Yeah but Steve didn’t do any of the actual bullying,” Eddie tried. 

You gave him a look of come on and he just shrugged in return. 

Luckily, before you could completely spiral, you both heard a knock on the door. You froze in your current pacing spot and looked at Eddie with fear in your eyes, realising you were closest to the door. 

You quickly ran and sat down on the other side of the couch before Eddie could even think about suggesting you get the door. Eddie looked at you confused while standing up, mumbling a don't worry, i'll get it with a fond shake of his head. 

He’d never admit it to you but he loves how shy you are, more specifically loves how shy you are around everyone but him and how you seem to always look at him to protect you when your nerves get the better of you. He liked feeling needed and trusted so much by you. 

Eddie had quickly opened the door, surprising you by pulling Steve into a quick friendly embrace. While Steve, even more to your surprise, gladly returned the hug. Eddie then stepped to the side to let Steve come in. Steve went straight to the kitchen, placing the two white bags on the counter and saying something about bringing reinforcements. 

It was only then that Steve seemed to notice you on the couch as you sat awkwardly fiddling with the hem of your skirt. 

“Where are my manners?” He asked rhetorically, striding over to the couch with his hand outstretched. You stood, timidly taking his hand to shake. 

“Hey I’m Steve, Steve Harrington”

“Hey, y-yeah, I know” we went to the same school dumbass, “I’m y’n”.

“Right,” he says, placing his other hand on top of yours, “Eddie didn’t tell me his “best friend” that I’d be meeting was so pretty.” 

You blushed hard at that. Hating his cheesy one liner and hating how much you wanted to like it. You shot Eddie a glance that said a mix between seriously? This guy? And please save me. 

Eddie gave you a look back that said play nice but asked Steve to help him grab some stuff from his room. You sunk back into the couch relieved as they walked away, how were you supposed to survive a whole night of Steve Harrington?

As Eddie and Steve got to the room you heard Eddie whisper “Seriously Man?” way too loudly.

“What?” Steve had whispered way too loudly back. 

“You’re coming on way too strong.”

“What? No I’m not, she's a total babe!” you rolled your eyes at that, there's no way Steve had changed as much as Eddie thought. 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Eddie replied, “just chill out with the flirting, you’re gonna scare her off”.

I know? Eddie knows that you’re a babe? 

You did not have time to fully process what he meant when both boys returned from Eddie’s room with his trusty black lunchbox. 

You were relieved when Eddie sat next to you on the couch and Steve took the recliner. It was awkward at first, you were easily getting lost in the conversations with both of their big personalities but they made sure to ask you specific things and let you have enough room to talk. 

After you had all passed a few joints around it got even easier. You were surprised to find that Steve obviously cared a lot about Eddie, even remembering small details of the latest D&D campaign Eddie had been working on and making sure his favourite snack was in his plastic “reinforcement” bags.  

You also, despite yourself, started having fun and actually laughing with Steve Harrington for once and not at the expense of others as you’d seen him do too often in highschool. 

You were also surprised to see that maybe he wasn’t as confident and sure of himself as he used to be. He was still certainly confident but not in the same intimidating and arrogant way. 

Also, much to your detest, you started to find his lame flirting actually quite endearing. Eventually, you had no choice but to agree with Eddie that Steve Harrington was a really good dude now. 

Ever since, the three of you have been inseparable. 

They were your shoulders to cry on, someone to pick you up after a bad day, someone to tell all your secrets and dreams to. All three of you supported each other through every failed and successful endeavour. 

Especially Eddie who, after finally graduating, realised he really didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. He started out at a shitty music store straight out of highschool but he soon grew tired of it, never one to settle for the mundane. He wanted something more. 

Although his ultimate goal is still to be a “rockstar” and the band is doing pretty well, Eddie soon realised that there was something else (other than guitar and Dungeon Master-ing) that he was extremely good at: sex. 

You’re still not sure how he got into it, if he’d decided himself one day or if he’d been approached by someone but somehow Eddie Munson finds himself as a semi successful pornstar.

When Eddie had first told you and Steve that he’d stared in a porno, neither of you believed him. You really thought he was playing some weird joke on you both as it wasn’t unlike him to. So, in order to prove to you both that he was in fact, telling the truth, he got a copy of the film. 

You were completely shocked when the tape started playing on Steve’s TV. The obscene images and sounds like a slap to the face, something you never thought you’d get to see or hear from your best friend. But, you had to admit, Eddie was good and he looked hot. 

You tried to ignore the growing ache between your legs as you and Steve had grilled Eddie all about it for the rest of the night, asking if it was good or awkward, how much money he made, did he think he would do more? How did he even get in this situation in the first place? 

He answered all your questions about how it was a little awkward at first but ultimately good and a lot of fun. He didn’t give specifics of how much he made but assured that it was definitely more than he made at the music store. He also was adamant that he definitely wanted to do it again. 

He wouldn’t go into specifics, and still won’t, about how he started up, always saying something along the lines of “being chosen by the sex gods” or “it just seemed a shame to not share my talents with the world”. Each time he was rewarded by a massive eye roll from you and Steve but neither if you decided to pry more than that. 

You were especially surprised by the interest Steve seemed to have in it, asking more about the technicalities of how it all worked. Steve, like Eddie, really didn’t have much of a plan after High School. You knew that although he enjoyed his current job, he didn’t want to work there forever. So it didn’t come as a total shock when Steve had asked Eddie a couple of months later if he could help Steve land a role in one of the films. 

That was about a year ago now. 

Although you loved your two friends dearly and although they have never done or said anything to make you feel inferior to them, you couldn’t help when those ugly feelings rose in your chest. It wasn’t easy being friends with two very confident, very attractive men. 

Being pushed aside by girls who shamelessly threw themselves at them or worse the ugly looks you’d get when they’d casually throw a friendly arm around you while you were out or the fact that you were hopelessly sexually inept compared to them. 

Especially seeing as those two men literally had sex for a living and well… you were still a virgin.  

It wasn’t for your lack of trying though, you’d just never seen yourself as an overly sexual person, having not even really touched yourself that much. Besides, most of the time when you try to, you can hardly ever make yourself finish.

You’d never understood when your friends would talk about their sexual experiences or toys they’d tried. You just didn’t get the interest but it was something you were definitely insecure about. Almost convinced something must be wrong with you. 

It also didn’t help that there were never any guys during High School that peaked your interest, other than maybe Eddie. But you were sure he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship over a silly crush. 

So, in the past year, while Eddie and Steve were becoming more popular, staring in a bunch of different films and having a heap of different sexual experiences, you’d only found yourself in a brief relationship with a total dick. 

He was nice enough at first but had pressured you a bit more than you would have liked to do things you probably weren’t ready for. You’d eventually given in and tried to give him a blowjob but he was way too pushy and forceful and you didn’t enjoy it at all. He’d said afterwards that he’d return the favour, but after about 2 minutes kept asking over and over again if you were getting close yet. Eventually you’d just faked it for him to stop, not really feeling anything the whole time he had.

After that the relationship kind of dwindled and he’d broken up with you. There were many issues with your comparability, but he’d made a point to mention that you weren’t sexual enough. That part had really ruined your confidence to ever try anything again with someone else. 

You’d of course told Eddie and Steve about your relationship and how much of a douche he was when it all ended. They’d done their best to cheer you up and reassure you that you should never have to do anything with someone just because you’re in a relationship with them and that there was no shame in having little to no experience. 

You appreciated their words but can’t help but feel insecure in the fact that their job is to have sex and make other people feel good and you can barely even make yourself cum. 

****

It’s Thursday night, a night reserved for your weekly (when your busy schedules allowed) dinners with Eddie and Steve. They were always at your house too as you were the only one that lived alone. 

You didn’t mind though, you liked being in your little space that you had created and having the two people you loved the most inside it. 

You were especially excited for tonight as it had been about a month since you’d all be free enough to finally have dinner and you had missed them both. 

You all spoke on the phone regularly but it was different than actually being with them, missing how your body seemed to instantly relax the minute you saw them. 

Eddie must have picked up Steve as you heard the familiar sounds of his van approaching and two sets of people jump out. 

You immediately ran to the door to greet them, excitement practically bubbling out of you. They both shared your excitement, quickly pulling you into tight hugs. 

They’d picked up some food on the way and you’d already set the table, so you all sat and ate straight away. 

“So,” you say with a mouthful of food, “what did I miss in the lives of my two sex gods”. You giggle as you say the last part overly dramatic and teasing. Eddie smirks at your use of the nickname he’d given himself on many occasions as Steve just rolls his eyes at you. 

“Oh you know, same old stuff,” Eddie replied casually. 

“We’ve both just been doing a couple of different films, trying new stuff,” Steve expanded. They never seem to give you much detail, which you think you're thankful for. 

“Dazzling the world with our tallent,” Eddie not so subtly added. “Oh! And we did a threesome together the other day.”

You almost choked on the food in your mouth as you felt your eyes practically fall out of your head. “You what?”

“Yeah, well I’ve been doing more threesomes lately and we needed another guy for one and they’d asked if I knew anyone,” Eddie explained like it was the most casual thing “and I of course immediately thought of Stevie, especially because I know he’s been keen to try one.”

You took a second to process all of this new information. Your two best friends, had a threesome, together, for Steve’s first threesome. 

You tried to figure out the weird emotions you were feeling at knowing this, more thankful now than ever that they usually didn’t tell you details about their job. 

Steve and Eddie exchanged a confused look at the unreadable expression on your face, they certainly hadn’t expected this reaction. They actually weren’t sure what reaction they had expected but it certainly wasn't this. 

“Hey,” Steve tried, “it’s not like a big deal or anything, I mean it’s just work.” Steve didn’t really know why he’d said that, you knew it was work and you’d always been supportive of them both. And it’s not like you’d be jealous or anything but he needed you to say something. 

“Ouch Harrington,” Eddie teased, “not a big deal? You mean to tell me it wasn’t earth shattering, that I haven’t changed your life forever?” 

Steve just rolled his eyes and shook his head at Eddie but could help himself but laugh at him. You found yourself laughing too, finally coming back to your senses. 

“Right,” you said finally, “sorry, I mean it’s fine obviously I just guess I was kind of shocked?” 

“Yeah we get that,” Steve assured you. 

“Wait- Steve, since when do you swing that way?” you asked

Steve just shrugged in response. He didn’t really know what way he swung these days, he didn’t really care as long as he was having fun and besides, Eddie is hot and he definitely knows what he’s doing. So of course anyone would jump at the opportunity to star in a Threesome with him, right?

“He only swings that way for me,” Eddie teased while grabbing Steve’s hand from across the table and quickly brushing his lips against his knuckles, “isn’t that right?”

You giggle at Eddie’s usual overly dramatic, complete disregard of personal space flirting but don’t miss the fact that Steve doesn't pull away. You feel a pang of jealousy at how they seem closer now, they’ve shared an experience with each other that you’d never get to share with them. You’re confused as to why that hurts so much but you start to feel even more inadequate at your lack of experience. 

“You’re full of shit Munson,” Steve replies, luckily bringing you out of your thoughts as he pulls his hand away finally. You don’t miss how much he’s blushing though, and neither does Eddie. 

“Wait, you guys said threesome right?” They both nod. “So… I'm assuming that means the third person was a girl?” You’re not really sure why you asked, something inside you just compelled you to dig deeper about the whole situation. 

“Yeah, a pretty little thing,” Eddie replies.

“Mmm, she was sweet,” Steve comments. 

“Oh and so good,” Eddie expands as you feel bitterness rise in your throat. 

“Mmm”, Steve agrees through a mouthful of food. 

Of course she was good, that’s her job, you try to reason with yourself. But god you wish you could also be good at something like that. 

Your dinner continues with no other world altering revelations thankfully but you keep coming back to the fact that they’ve done a threesome together. 

You keep asking them how it was. Good.

Had they done stuff together or just to her at the same time? 

Together and to her at the same time. (You tried to ignore the ache between your legs when they’d mentioned they’d touched each other and not just her).

And many, many questions about her and what she was like and what she was good at. 

They’d kept their answers brief but from what you could decipher she was amazing. Some of the things and positions they’d mentioned seemed impossible. The fact that they had fucked her throat and practically bent her in half and both fucked her at the same time one in each hole? It seemed crazy to you. 

Every time you asked a new question you felt worse and worse about yourself but you couldn’t stop. You both needed to know everything and needed them to never talk about it again. 

Thankfully, you thought it seemed as though they hadn’t picked up on how awful you felt by the end of the night. 

But Eddie had, we’ll sort of. He knew you better than anyone and could tell you were feeling a bit insecure but mainly took your interest as being curious about the technicalities of it all. Which was also true, you couldn’t imagine much about sex with one person, let alone two. 

This gave him a wicked idea…

***** 

The next day you get home from work exhausted. All day you’d been messing up everything. You were completely exhausted, distracted and just not yourself, your mind constantly wandering to Steve and Eddie. 

You’d tossed and turned all last night after they’d left, the ache between your legs growing unbearable but again, you’d tried and failed to relieve it. 

You felt the weirdest mix of jealousy and arousal. You knew Eddie and Steve were hot but you’d tried your best to never think of them like that knowing you couldn’t have them. 

But after knowing someone had had both of them together you couldn’t help but think about what they would be like and about all of the times you could’ve had that. 

Maybe if you’d been more sexual your late night smoke sessions or the nights when you’d all stumbled home from the bars or from Eddie’s shows could’ve led to more. 

But every time you thought about that and let yourself fantasise about them, and their bodies and their lips and how they would feel all over your skin and their hands roaming all over you… you felt guilt. 

These were your best friends and you knew that thinking about this stuff would only lead to heartache. You weren’t sexual and you honestly didn’t know if you ever would be, they wouldn’t want you. Especially not now. 

Now they were more out of your league than ever. 

You’re so caught up in your thoughts of them again you don’t see it on your kitchen counter until you almost squish it with your bag: a tape. 

You pick it up to inspect it, almost certain you didn’t leave one here this morning and find a note taped to it. 

Seeing as you were so interested. 

Sprawled out in Eddie’s handwriting, complete with a winky face. 

You gasp and quickly put the tape back on the counter as you realise what’s on it. As if the tape itself was as dirty as the contents were sure to be. 

You stare at it for a moment, this is the tape. With video proof of your best friend’s threesome. You shake your head and huff off to your bedroom. Trust Eddie to do something like this. 

He was messing with you, there’s no way he’d actually want you to see it! I mean you did see another tape that one other time he showed you and Steve… but that was only to prove he’d done it!! 

God, did Steve even know Eddie dropped the tape off? Surely… right? Eddie wouldn’t drop it off if Steve didn’t know. 

You weren’t even sure why you cared that he’d given it to you; it wasn't like you were actually going to watch it. It’s not like you’d been fantasising about nothing but the contents of the tape for the last 24 hours…

I mean… if you just watched it at least you wouldn’t have to fantasise about what could be on it anymore right? 

God what am I thinking? You scold yourself. There’s no way you’re considering this. 

You get changed and start your nightly chores around the house as well as making dinner. But more times than you’d like to admit you find yourself picking up that damn tape to put it back down again.

Eventually you find yourself sitting at the table staring at it, dinner long finished and the house completely spotless. Your leg is bouncing uncontrollably as you bite the skin around your nails, there's no way you’re considering this. But, what’s the worst that could happen?

Fuck it. 

They, or at least Eddie, left it here for me. And I’m sure heaps of other people have already watched it so why would it be weird for me to? 

You rush to the living room and pop the tape in the player, sitting on the carpet in front of your tv. 

You sit nervously as the tape starts, opening with all three of them making out and touching each other on a bed. It was surreal to see Eddie and Steve on your tv and even more surreal to see them like this. 

You watch as they all slowly got undressed, your eyes bulged as you see both of their cocks spring free, heat shooting directly to your core. 

You watch as the girl sat back and started to touch herself as they both watched, fisting their cocks slowly. 

She looked so confident, you thought. So sure of herself and her body. The moans she was making were intense to say the least but it seemed like both of the boys were enjoying it. 

You felt that ugly feeling of jealousy rise in your chest once again. Oh how you wished you could be that confident, how you wished they were looking at you like that. 

You shook your head and turned off the tape quickly. That was a mistake, you don’t even want Eddie and Steve, why would you care how they were looking at her? You didn’t care. 

But the tear that slipped down your cheek betrayed you. You quickly wipe it away, annoyed at yourself. 

You decide that you’ve obviously just had a long and stressful day and that it is definitely time for bed.  

You shower quickly, doing your best to stop more tears from slipping and to try and get the images of your two best friends out of your head. 

You pick out some fresh comfy pjs and slide into bed, hoping sleep will take you quickly. 

It doesn’t. 

You toss and turn for what feels like hours, you can’t get comfy and you can’t get rid of the damn aching between your legs. 

You can’t stop thinking of them… of their bodies. How big they both are. The lustful look on their faces as they watched her in awe. Would they look at you the same if you were her? God, how their muscles tensed as they stroked themselves… 

Oh fuck this. 

You throw the blankets off yourself, suddenly overheating and plunge your fingers straight into your soaking hole, as you always do. 

Your head is filled with nothing but thoughts of Eddie, of Steve, of Eddie and Steve of them, them, them. 

You think of their toned bodies, Steve’s slightly tanned and hairy, Eddie’s pale and littered with dark ink, some you didn’t even know he had. 

You think of the lust blown looks on their faces and their laboured breaths as they touched themselves. Pretending it’s you they’re looking at like that. 

You think of their cocks, so hard and throbbing in their hands. How Steve’s was big and gloriously thick where Eddie’s was thinner but oh so long. 

You feel the coil start to tighten in your stomach but just as you think it’s about to snap it disappears. Again. 

You groan in frustration as you throw yourself out of bed. Body moving before your brain can keep up. 

You find yourself sat in front of the tv again as you start the tape where you’d turned it off just hours before. You lean back on one of your hands as the other snakes between your legs once again. Your legs bent and spread in front of you. 

You watch as they move towards her, no longer watching her touch herself. Eddie bends down and buries his head between her legs as she cries out in pleasure. He must be good. 

Steve kneels beside her and kisses her while playing with her nipples. You feel another pang of jealousy at watching Steve kiss her like that but your arousal overtakes the feeling as you continue to watch and finger yourself. 

You watch intently as they change positions. The girl is now on all fours on the bed as Steve comes to stand in front of her and Eddie behind her kneeling on the bed.  The girl starts to suck Steve’s dick, taking it so deep from the start. He lets out a guttural moan which shoots straight to your core, coating you in more slick. 

Eddie starts massaging her ass before shoving two fingers inside her. This causes her to slightly gags around Steve’s cock but this only makes Steve moan louder. 

You move your fingers faster as Steve’s moans increase, god his sounds fucking filthy. 

Eddie then lines himself up with her hole and slowly pushes all the way in till he bottoms out inside her with a deep groan. He sets a brutal pace from the start, letting out even louder moans than Steve. 

Of course he’s still loud when he fucks. 

You feel more jealousy and more arousal build in a weird mix in your stomach as they continue to fuck her. Both letting out dirty praises and sounds that you wish were directed towards you. 

Eddie then snakes his hand around to rub at her clit. You watch in awe as her legs start to shake, you’ve never been able to make your legs do that. 

She must cum then as both Steve and Eddie praise her for being such a good girl and Eddie tells her how good she feels squeezing his cock. 

Shit, you wanna be their good girl so bad. 

They both pull out then as the girl sits back on the bed panting. Much to your surprise Eddie moves over to Steve and captures his lips in a sloppy kiss. The sight alone is enough to get you so close. 

Then Steve mumbles something about wanting to have a taste of her too while shooting her a ink, you think he’s about to have a turn at eating her out but instead he drops to his knees. 

Eddie looks slightly surprised but quickly recovers and laces his hands in Steve’s golden brown hair. 

Steve licks a broad stripe from Eddie’s balls to the tip before taking the red tip in his mouth. He starts to bob his head enthusiastically and Eddie lets out a loud, almost high pitched moan. It sounds different to the other moans, more real. 

You don’t miss the look on Eddie’s face as he watches Steve, he looks almost proud and so turned on. 

This definitely isn’t the first time Steve’s done this but he still isn’t quite as good as the girl was. He gags a lot more but everytime he does Eddie tips his head back with a groan, so it must feel good. 

This sight alone has you moaning out loud, head tipping back and eyes screwing shut as you feel your orgasm finally approaching. 

They must change positions again because you hear the girl moaning too, but you’re too close to open your eyes again, too focused. 

You hear Eddie and Steve praising again, moaning out that’s it, good girl and look at you, taking us so well. Also some dirtier ones like you like that, you filthy slut and taking both our cocks so well in your dirty fucking holes. You didn’t expect it but you like those ones just as much as the nicer ones. 

You finger yourself faster as you pretend it’s you they’re talking to and finally, finally you feel the coil snap in your stomach.

You cum hard around your fingers with a high pitched gasp. Your head swimming with thoughts of Eddie and Steve. 

You see stars as you have easily the most intense one you’ve ever had, granted, that wasn’t too hard. 

Your orgasm lasts for what feels like hours but finally you start to come down from your high, head feeling dizzy and cloudy. Fingers falling from your abused hole. 

You finally open your eyes and take note of what’s happening on the screen. You’re shocked to find a close up of Eddie and Steve’s cocks fucking both her pussy and asshole. 

This snaps you out of your post-orgasm haze and you quickly jump up and turn the tape off at the sight. All previous grey morals from arousal gone. 

You slump back on the ground and rub your face as you realise what you’ve just done. You feel ashamed but also don’t? You stand on shaky legs, making your way back to your bed.

You slump down, suddenly exhausted. Tonight has been weird and has revealed some weird emotions you’re still not sure of. There’s one thought and feeling in particular that won't leave your mind though: 

You really want to fuck your best friends. 

____________________________________________________ Tagging some mutuals that may be interested: @andvys @pxrxcxa @wroteclassicaly @eddiemunsonfuxks @usedtobecooler @corrodedhawkins @prettyboyeddiemunson

[theotherbuckley]

I like you (because you're you) - bucktommy 2K

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“Who was that?” Tommy asks, walking up to where Buck’s sat on the couch, phone placed down in his lap. They’d just finished dinner, Buck had cooked a delicious pasta dish that had Tommy coming back for seconds. He’d told Buck how much he liked it, and Buck had promised he’d make it again before his phone started buzzing and he’d apologised before taking the call.

Buck gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His cheerful self from earlier seemingly replaced with a faded version. He has this distant look in his eyes which he quickly blinks away before he speaks. “Uh, that was my friend Connor. He, uh, just wanted some of my medical records.” He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. It isn’t. Not really. His brain is just being stupid, is all.

Tommy raises his eyebrows before frowning. “Why’d he need those?” He questions, coming to sit down next to Buck. He places his hand on Buck’s thigh momentarily, squeezing softly like he just knows that Buck needs a little bit of comfort right now even if he doesn’t quite understand why.

“Uh, their son was at a doctor's appointment, just having a check-up or something, and I’m well— they used my sperm so, you know, they just want to make sure everything is in order, I guess,” he rushes out the last part, desperate to get the words out like if he says it fast enough Tommy won’t even realise what he’s said and it won’t cause any issues. 

Tommy’s brows rise further as he takes that in. Buck watches him process, afraid that his life will once again be too much for someone, and they’ll walk out. It’s what people do — when Buck inevitably becomes too much and when they decide what he’s offering, what he can’t give them, isn’t enough in return, they leave.

“Is that— is that a problem?” Buck hates the way his voice wavers as he speaks. Hates the way he can’t hide his emotions at all. He really likes Tommy, really wants him to stick around. He’ll do what he can to make that happen. He’ll make himself more useful so that Tommy won’t want to leave. He’ll—

“No, no, of course not.” Tommy says it like there’s no other answer. Like he can’t imagine anyone thinking that’s a problem. Buck waits for the inevitable ‘but’.

“But.” Buck braces. “But I’m just surprised I’ve never heard of this guy before is all,” Tommy says. Buck exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Oh uh, yeah, we— we aren’t really close.”

“But you donated sperm for him?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I guess— he asked. I may not have spoken to him in a while but, I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“You have the biggest heart, Evan. I think what you did is incredibly honourable. How are they doing now?” Tommy asks gently, seemingly comfortable to move the conversation on.

“I’m—I'm not actually sure.” He sighs. “That was the first time they’d called since the birth. And that was only because they needed something.” He laughs at the end like his words don’t speak to some greater insecurity deep inside him. Like it doesn’t hurt that his friend hasn’t talked to him until they needed him.

“Ah,” Tommy says, and Buck can here the judgement dripping from his mouth. He’s not sure exactly what he’s done, but it’s always something. Maybe he should have been the one to check in on them, maybe—

“I don’t think he sounds like a very good friend,” Tommy states. 

Buck frowns, he didn’t expect him to say that. The truth is, Buck sometimes wonders that himself. What he lands on instead is that there must be something wrong with him. Because it’s not just Connor who wants things from him and then doesn’t care about any other part of Buck. It’s just how it’s always been. People take, and Buck gives. He gives, and he gives, and it’s never quite enough, but he tries.

“Sometimes I feel like people only like me when I’m useful,” Buck admits in a whisper, letting the words stuck inside his head free. It’s not that he thinks it; he knows it. He knows he’s only worth something when people can use him, and he’s lived with that his whole life. He was born to save someone, and he failed, but that’s his whole purpose even now. 

He saves people for a living. He’ll babysit whenever anybody asks, he’ll be your trivia partner when you need to win. He’ll let his friends use him for his sperm. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to. He does. He loves doing these things for his friends because he can. But sometimes it hurts a little knowing that it’s not him that they want. They just… like his ability to do things.

“Evan, I like you. Regardless of anything you can or can’t do. I like you.” Tommy emphasises the you like Buck being Buck is somehow special.

Buck can’t stop the wet laugh that escapes his throat. He shakes his head, sniffles before composing himself. “No, no,” he says, because it’s not true, it can’t be. “But—but it’s okay because I’ll make sure you don’t get bored of my I-I’ll cook dinner, and I’ll do the dishes, and I’ll make sure we always win at trivia and— and I don’t know anything about cars or Muay Thai, but I’ll learn.” Buck’s rambling, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one breath. He needs to make sure Tommy knows that he’ll do his best; even if it’s hard, he’ll be useful because then Tommy will stay, and he really wants Tommy to stay.

“Evan.” It’s that soft voice again. Placating, like he’s talking to a small child. Like he’s trying to get him to listen.

Buck shifts his gaze from the floor to Tommy. He looks sad. Buck wishes he wasn’t the one to make him look like that. He tries to smile at him, anything to bring those soft creases at the edges of Tommy’s eyes back, but his heart’s not really in it.

“Evan,” Tommy says again, locking his eyes on Buck’s. “You don’t need to be useful for me to like you. I like you because you’re adorable. I like you because you’re funny and you don’t care what people think. ‘Who cares’, right?” Tommy chuckles. Buck likes that sound. “I like that you were willing to try again with me, even if you bought me god-awful coffee with it.” Buck lets out a wet chuckle at that. “I look at you, Evan, and I see someone who cares so deeply about your friends. Willing to put your life on the line for others. But it’s more than that, I like the way you ramble about random things you find on the internet, and how you try out 100 different lasagna recipes because you need to find the right one even though you burn half of them.”

“Hey!” Buck says in weak protest. He’s right, though. There’s a warmth in his chest at the fact that Tommy noticed.

Tommy keeps going. “I like how big your smile gets when you talk about Chris or Jee-Yun. I like the way that your cheeks turn the colour of your birthmark when you’re flustered. I just— I really like you, Evan. You could— you don’t have to cook for me every day or give me the answers at trivia night for me to want you to stick around. I like you because you’re you.”

Buck can’t stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. His whole life has been about being useful, and it’s so hard to believe anything different but the way Tommy talks about him. Like maybe he really does see him. “I don’t know how to— I want to believe you but it’s just, every relationship I’ve had has felt like people want something from me. Abby needed help when her mom died, and then she just left. I always felt like Ali just wanted a place to crash when she was in town. I mean, she’s the reason I have this apartment in the first place. Taylor just wanted sex at first, and then she started getting insights into news stories from the firehouse, and she always valued that more than spending time with me. She’d ask me how my day was, not because she cared but because she wanted to know if there was anything worth writing about. Hell, she even published a book about me. Even after it was over, she used me as much as she could.” The tears are flowing faster now, and his voice cracks as he speaks. It’s stupid to get so emotional about this, but Buck can’t stop now. Now that he’s opened the faucet of this insecurity of his, it’s like everything he’s been bottling inside is bubbling to the surface and he can’t stop it.

“And Nat—Natalia,” Buck continues, hiccuping through his tears. “She just wanted to understand my death. Asked me a hundred— a hundred questions about what it was like, and at first, I thought maybe she could actually see me, but I feel like she was just using me for something too.” Buck wipes his face. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now — tear-streaked face, snot dripping down from his nose. Tommy doesn’t deserve to deal with all this. “Sorry,” Buck chuckles,  the sound getting caught in his throat. “You didn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Hey,” Tommy says, moving closer towards Buck. He tucks his fingers under Buck’s chin forcing him to look Tommy in the eyes. He holds Buck’s face tenderly in his hand, always so gentle. “You can talk to me about anything, and I will listen, okay?”

“I don’t want to bore you,” Buck says softly, moving to look down at the ground once more but Tommy doesn’t let him get away, holding him firmly yet soft, like Buck’s something precious.

“You couldn’t,” Tommy replies sincerely. “If it weren’t for you, how else would I know that the Australians started a war on emus, huh?” He jokes.

“And lost,” Buck whispers because he can’t help it.

“And lost!” Tommy repeats. Buck had gone on a tangent about it just the other day. He’d gone to the zoo with Christopher, and they’d been having a lot of fun until they stood too close to the fence, and an emu had come up and startled them. Buck had decided in that moment that he needed to find out every single detail about them, which led him to discovering that in 1932, Australia declared war on emus —and then proceeded to lose. He’d met up with Tommy after and rambled about his findings because he thought it was absolutely hilarious. Tommy sat there smiling at him, evidently listening to every word that he said, taking it in and remembering it all.

“I like listening to you talk, Evan. I like you. And I’ll tell you that as much as you need to hear. Now,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Tomorrow, I’m cooking for you. You don’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty. Let someone do something for you for once. Okay?”

Buck just nods, wiping at his eyes before slumping into Tommy’s now open arms and relishing in the comfort of his boyfriend. He doesn’t quite believe him, not yet. He wants to. It’s just prior experience has moulded his brain a certain way and now he just can’t believe any different. He wants to. He wants someone to like him, to love him, even when he can’t be useful. He hopes that maybe Tommy will show him that that’s possible.

For now, he tucks his head into Tommy’s shoulder, clutches onto him like he’s going to disappear and lets himself be held. Tommy kisses his birthmark like it’s sacred, holds him and tells him he likes him over and over. Buck thinks maybe he really does.

[themultifandomgal]

Sister Shelby- Fainting

All YN's life she has struggled with fainting. The first time she lost conscious was when she was only a year old. The baby had been crying none stop, then in Polly grays arms the little one passed out. The doctors had said it was because of her not able to catch her breath but as the years went on the fainting got worse, especially when YN started going through puberty.

13 Years Old

"YN your gonna be late for school" Tommy scolds the youngest Shelby storming into her room. YN groans throwing her bed sheets over her head "now YN!"

"Don't feel well"

"You just want to get out of school" Tommy rips off the quilt

"Fine" YN grunts and gets out of bed. But as quick as she's up, she's back down passed out on the floor. Of course Tommy panics and calls for Polly who runs upstairs. Only a minute later YN is awake again

"Ok no school today" Polly places her arms on her hips as Tommy helps his sister back into bed

"I think we need a doctor Poll"

The doctors checked YN out and found that her heartbeat is irregular which is what has been causing her fainting spells.

15 Years Old

YN can now tell when she is going to faint and what could trigger it. One of them being excessive exercise. Now it's no secret YNs teacher, Mr Jones doesn't like her just because she has the Shelby name. The teacher had announced that they would be running around the field at the back of the school, YN immediately protests saying she can't run that far, but the teacher had said if YN didn't partake then she could expect 100 lines and the ruler across the hand. So YN begin running.

After running once she was told to run again, and again and again. No matter how many times YN said she needed to stop Mr Jones threatened the poor girl and so she carried on. She did this until she passes out on the field, thankfully her friend Eleanor saw and ran to Mr Jones, but he didn't believe her.

When YN came around she decided to just walk out of the school and head home

"What are you doing home from school?" Arthur scolds seeing his little sister walk through the front door

"Mr Jones made me run even when I told him I couldn't. He said it was either run or have the ruler. I passed out but he didn't believe Eleanor when she told him" Arthur's eyes widen

"Go to bed and rest. Let me speak to Tommy and Aunt Poll"

This caused the Shelby brothers and Aunt head to the school and Tommy even got the teacher fired!

18 Years Old

It's a hot day in Birmingham and YN is sat in the betting shop helping Arthur with the books

"I'm gonna get a Drink" YN sighs feeling the heat. Arthur nods his head not looking up. YN stands up but immediately her eyesight starts to disappear and a ringing starts in her ear. Before she can even sit back down Arthur finds his sister on the floor passed out. Knowing exactly what to do Arthur gets up from his seat and first of all checks that YN hasn't hurt herself on anything. He then rolls her so she's on her side. Tommy walks out of his office and frowns

"Has she fainted?" Tommy asks looking at Arthur and YN

"Yeah" Arthur sighs

"When she walks up take her home. It's so hot in here"

"Ok"

22 Years Old

YN is now an adult who has just moved into a house with her boyfriend Alexander. At first the Shelby's were not happy about this and they worried for their sister especially since Alex has yet to see one of YNs fainting episodes as she is now more aware of her body and when she may pass out. YN comes home from a long day of shopping when she begins to feel faint. Placing her bags down in the kitchen she slide herself down the kitchen counters and sits on the floor. Normally this would do the trick, but today this isn't what happens. Alex knows about his girlfriends irregular heart and he knows that she faints because of it, but he's always had one of her brothers or Polly around. So when he walks through the front door and into the kitchen, panic sets in seeing YN on the floor. Immediately he runs up to her and starts to try and wake her up, but it doesn't work

"YN. YN can you hear me?" remembering Tommy once checking her over for injury's he does the same. Then he remembers that Arthur would check the time to see how long she was unresponsive for, so he does just that. Unbeknownst to hun Tommy has also entered the home of the young couple and is watching Alex tend to YN "ok come on YN isn't been a minute since I've come home. I need you to wake up"

Luckily it's not to much time later, maybe about 20 seconds, YN finally starts to wake up

"Hey YN, how you feeling?"

"Tired"

"Ok. Let's get you a drink and put you to bed" this is when Alex notices Tommy stood watching the interaction "Tommy what are you doing here?"

"Was coming to see if YN wanted to head to the Garrison but I can see that's going to be a no"

"Sorry Tom"

"Don't apologise. Your in safe hands here. Take tomorrow off" with that Tommy leaves.

For YN hearing her brother is ok with her relationship means the absolute world to her.

[izzy2210]

Fool

written for @steddiemicrofic‘s April prompt ‘Fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: Alcohol use, bad friends

I don't really do these anymore, which is a bummer, cus the prompts are really good! I had an idea for this one, so I wrote it! (also the person who gets the reference to a song in thos one gets a cookie)

---

“God, you’re a fool!” 

If Eddie could have a table to stand on, he would. He’s yelling at Steve, who’s staring at him, tears in his eyes. He thought this party would go well. Now he’s sitting behind the house with his heart broken, and Eddie Munson is giving him life advice.

“You think these people really care for you?” Eddie tsks at him. “You really think they will be there for you?” Steve tries to stand, but sways, catching himself on the wall. Okay, maybe he drank a bit too much. “I didn’t think..” 

Eddie’s calmed down now. “I just.. I can’t watch you destroy yourself with those people and not do anything.” Eddie’s grabbing his hand now, pulling him along. “Where are you taking me?” “To my car, then to my trailer. Let you sober up. Make sure you don’t puke all over yourself. Show you what real friends are like.”

🍕

Steve ends up laying on Eddie’s couch, his head supported by a couple pillows. Eddie’s sat on the floor next to him, eating his pizza. 

“This could be a party too, you know. Parties don’t need to be alcohol and loud music and whatever. Could just be this.” He leans his head back, bumping against Steve’s knee. It’s quiet for a while.

“I think I like parties like this better.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles at the ceiling. “That’s good. I hope we can do this another time when you’re not drunk out of your mind.” Steve giggles at that, and Eddie loves the sound of that, wants to record it and play it over and over again until the tape breaks. “Smoke some, watch a movie. Eat pizza that isn’t fucking cold..” He throws his slice back in the box. 

“Almost sounds like a date.”

Eddie stops breathing. 

“I- mh. Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Could be. If you wanna,” Steve says, groaning as he turns on the couch. 

“Steve.. Don’t say shit like that. You’ll kill me.” Eddie stands, suddenly. “You’re drunk.” “I’m sobering up.” “You really are not Steve, look at you.” He gestures vaguely at Steve, splayed over his couch, looking up at Eddie with squinted eyes. “I’m gonna have a headache tomorrow.” He whispers. Eddie sighs, sits back down. 

“Can I stay here? My.. My house is so empty. Just a house, really. Not really mine.” Steve reaches out, a small voice in his head telling him to. It’s the same voice that told him to stare at Tommy H. Or Devin from calc. Or George Michael.

Eddie sighs again, grabbing Steve’s hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“Sure, man. Of course. Know the feeling.”

“Headache?”

“No. Staying in a place that doesn’t feel like home.”

“Oh.”

---

this was really fun to write and hopefully there's more to come for this prompt to make up for the fact that i abandoned this shit in October 🥲

[brewed-pangolin]

Fine I'll send another. Captain MacTavish ON THE BEACH. 🥵

I love the beach. I live on it during the summer. It's my second home, I swear. And the way the sea salt air and warm waters can cure the soul is something I just can't ignore with this man. I love this ask so much!!!

18+ MDNI Sexual Themes

You sat alone, comfortably in your beach chair with a cold beer in hand under a magenta colored sky as the sun set beyond the horizon of a turquoise painted surf.

The rhythmic sound of the waves synchronizing with the beat of your heart as the scent of sea salt and sunscreen etched itself into your skin.

The air was still warm, yet it carried a cool breeze off the waters edge as the slow curtain of dusk crept over the white sanded landscape.

It was perfect. A picturesque conclusion to a hot summer's day.

And off in the distance, with a Yeti tumblr of whisky in one hand and a cigar permanently clutched in his mouth, Captain MacTavish cast out his last line into the crashing surf and placed the warn grip seamlessly into its plastic holder dug into the sand.

The beach had done wonders for him since his retirement only a few years ago.

Soothed his war torn psyche with the constant ebb and flow of the tide. Molded his scars beneath a layer of sun kissed skin that further accentuated the seascape blue of his eyes and made every woman swoon with just a mere glance and a smile.

Yet it was here, under the blanket of encroaching night that you saw the man he had truly become.

A man at peace with himself. Letting the setting sun and roll of the tide absolve him of his past and breathe fresh life into his lungs at dawn's first light.

You couldn't pull your eyes off him anymore, and you were no longer ashamed about how your stare lingered on him.

The loss of sunlight elongating the shadows within the curves of his musculature. Accented by the seafoam swim trunks that hung perfectly on his hips. Creating a more defined sculpture of his frame as he effortlessly strutted along the sand to take his place beside you.

"How long you gonna fish for tonight, John?" You asked quietly, rim of the beer can caressing your bottom lip.

"As long as you'll let me, m'lass."

You smiled, watching him raise his tumbler in cheers to take a healthy swig while gently tapping the ash of his cigar into an empty can.

"Guess we'll be here all night, then."

"Aye. Looks that way."

As he relaxed back in his Tommy Bahama chair, your hand reached out to instinctually cusp the back of his head. Thumb and index finger pressing into the back off his skull, pulling a slight groan from his chest as your touch soothed his sun drenched soul.

"Careful, lass. Y'know what that skillful touch a'yers does to me."

"Mhmm. It's a good thing we brought the boat."

Soap rolled his eyes, glancing between your smirking expression and the vessel anchored just beyond the last sandbar.

"Which one ya love more, hm? The boat, or me?"

You raised a brow at his testing inquiry, firmly pressing into the back curve of his jaw with your fingertips as a hushed murmur fell from your lips.

"Don't ask questions you know the answer to, John. Won't get you anywhere."

Soap growled in response. Placing his hand on your thigh and giving your flesh a firm yet playful grip.

"May have ta shorten th'fishing trip then. Looks like I gotta assert my claim over you again."

"Claim over me, John?"

"Aye. Ain't no way I'm losing you to a gas guzzling bàta."

-

You both lasted no more than another twenty minutes before loading everything into the skiff and jetting back to his prized vessel. Where Soap MacTavish made good to his word and staked his claim over you once again.

Spreading you over every flat surface beneath the bow and docking his thickened cock repeatedly into the deep cove of your cunt.

Master of the Swell Masterlist

This is but a taste of the new WIP I have in store for you, Soap Squad. Johnny's got the 4Runner, the Captain's got a yacht. And goddman, do I have plans to rock that boat.

Tagging those who showed interest. Let me know if you liked to be tagged for further posts. Much love 💛

@deadbranch @ohgeesoap @astraluminaaa @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @d3athtr4psworld @ghosts-goldendoodle @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @glitterypirateduck @macravishedbymactavish @sofasoap @tacticalanxiety @random-thot-generator @writeforfandoms

[juletheghoul]

the morning after

Gif by @pedropascalsx

Authors note: Joel has consumed me (much like everyone!) and I couldn't help but write more for these two. Hope you enjoy more Neighbour!Joel (Thanks to my bestie @wheresarizona for encouraging me and to my literal wife @foli_vora for being the best)

Read part 1 here

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+ no minors, piv sex, dirty talk, creampie, fluff, flirty Joel which I think needs it own warning- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist Series Masterlist next chapter

———

It's his alarm that wakes you both, you hadn't even realized you'd fallen asleep,

You yawn, a full body stretch around the strong wall of him behind you. You know he hadn’t meant to stay the night, but at some point the pillow talk had lulled, the warmth of him, the softness of you—neither of you stood a chance. He sighed from behind you, shutting his phone off with a groan.

“Morning neighbour.” You settle back into a comfortable position, enjoying the feeling of him caged around you.

“Mmm.” He moves with you, his hand running along the soft skin of your belly, his nose skimming along the curve of your shoulder. “Mornin’ sugar.” He presses a kiss to your skin and you can’t help but scoot back, press yourself as close as you can.

You feel it then, the hard line of his cock against the curve of your ass, sending a bolt of arousal through you.

“I gotta go baby, Sarah will be up soon, and Tommy will be up my ass soon.” Even as he says the words, his hand sweeps up from your belly, to your breast, your nipple hardening almost painfully in his palm. You pout to yourself.

“Stop teasing me then.” You arch into his touch, relishing his warmth. “You want some coffee before you go?” You resign yourself to move but he tightens his hold, rolls you onto your back and slots his hips between your thighs.

“On second thought, I think I got time.” He presses kisses to your chest, his mouth on a pilgrimage from one shoulder to the other. Your hands find the smooth skin of his ribs, on a trip of their own to map out every inch of him you can reach.

You sigh, the sound content, it’s so lovely to have him here filling up the space in your bed and between your legs.

“Time to tease? Or time to fuck me before you leave?” You roll your hips against him, arousal flowing and he groans to feel himself slotted between the lips of your sex.

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” He surges up to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, his arms bracketing the sides of your head as your legs bracket his hips. His tongue dances with yours, rocketing the arousal up, into the stratosphere. He makes you feel like a teenager again, heart racing, breathless excitement.

He moves to kiss your neck, trailing his lips down until his teeth tug at your nipple and you reward him with a gasp. He soothes the delicious pinch with his tongue, ruthless with the sensitive bud, and then the other until you whine.

His eyes find yours, lively and dark and full of want.

“I have to make sure you’re wet enough to take me.” He uses his teeth again and you gasp, again he soothes. “Make sure that perfect little cunt can handle my big dick.” You pull him up, needing to taste his mouth again.

It’s all teeth and tongues, gentle and not so gentle bites to each other's lips until you feel him reach down, slot himself at the mouth of your cunt and slide in tauntingly slow, soothing the ache of emptiness.

Your cunt flutters around the stretch of him, the wet suck of it keeping him inside while he takes a breath.

“Jesus christ woman,” He sounds wrecked, forehead pressed against your cheek. “So fucking wet, so tight, gonna finish this party before we even start.” You laugh, breathless.

“Feels so fucking good Joel–I just want you here all day.” You clench around him and the groan he lets out is filthy.

“Don’t tempt me, woman, I have responsibilities.” His thrusts are lazy, unhurried and they make your mind blank. “Much as I want to stay right here.” He punctuates his words with a harder punch of his hips, it makes you cry out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you sugar, my cock buried nice and deep all day.” He lifts his head to look down where you’re joined and he moans, you know he can see himself, all glossy and slick with you.

“Yes, yes, harder–oh–” He braced himself, and quickened his pace, a wet obscene sound fills the space and it’s getting harder and harder to form a coherent thought.

“Fuck, fuck you feel so fucking good, I’m gonna come soon baby, I need you to come first.” His tone has lost its playfulness, replaced with an urgency that gives credence to his words.

You reach down and circle your fingers around your clit and that familiar heat blooms in your spine, in your breasts and in your belly. He dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth and you burst. A shudder rolls through your body, the pleasure a wave cresting across every inch of you and it pulls him right down with you.

He comes with a cry, burying himself as deep as he can, grinding his come into the very heart of you.

“Jesus.” The word is a pant against your skin, his face is shiny with exertion, so beautiful in the golden light of the early morning. “What a way to start the day.” You laugh, giddy with joy and pleasure and he’s not wrong.

“Give me a second to catch my breath and I’ll make us some coffee.” You hold onto his face in both your hands, covering it in kisses and he smiles so wide the dimple is on full display.

“You’re gonna spoil me.”

“Only if you let me.” You keep kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him pressed up tight.

“Oh I’m fixin’ to let you.” His beard is scratchy, it tickles when he buries his face into the crook of your neck and you can’t help but laugh, lost in the euphoria of his affection until his phone trills again.

“Fuck–What time is it? Yes baby girl,” He answers the phone, panicking now, suppressing a hiss when he pulls out and away. “Oh god, okay okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there. Tell uncle Tommy to hold his horses. Did you eat breakfast?” He’s pacing around the room, collecting different articles of clothing while you put on some clothes. “Okay see you in a minute.”

He puts on his t-shirt and opens the door to your bedroom, nearly tripping over Tucker where he lays on the floor. “Christ, sorry boy–” You both make your way down and he all but runs towards the door before turning to find you behind him. “Sorry for runnin’ out like this, can I see you later?” His hand finds your lower back, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“Of course, I’ll be here.” You pull him down for another quick kiss and then he’s gone.

You hear him apologizing to his daughter, she’s standing on the porch, a very amused smile on her face when she tells him his shirt is on inside out. You close the door with a smile, and set about getting ready for the day.

-

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[psychedelic-ink]

𝐇𝐈, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 8k

chapter summary: Joel takes you on your first date. A barbecue meant to be fun becomes a minefield of unpleasant memories for Tommy.

warnings: mutual masturbation, piv, dirty talking, light spit play, PTSD, war flashbacks, angst towards the end

a/n: yup, you're seeing correct, I uploaded a day early!! woooo

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

When Joel mentioned taking you out for a date, you couldn't help but imagine something simple and unassuming, just like him. You envisioned a quaint, unpretentious restaurant where you could share intimate conversation, followed by a leisurely stroll back home. You knew Joel wasn't exactly an innovative man; however, his wood carving skills, took you by surprise when he showed you some of his artwork, it made your heart grow fonder for him. As much as he poked fun at himself for not understanding art, or knowing much of it, he was an artist. 

In the end, you weren't expecting anything extravagant, and you had no complaints about it. That was a part of his Texan charm. It was who he was, and you loved him for it.

What you didn't expect was to take a thirty to forty-minute drive to South Congress.

“You didn't have to go through all this trouble,” you say as Joel opens the truck door for you. Smiling, he rolls his eye. He offers you his hand, and with a skip in your heart, you accept it, feeling the heat of his palm. Joel steadies you as you hop down from the vehicle. Sarah was at another sleepover, carefully orchestrated by Joel, making it the perfect time for him to take you on the first date he mentioned a couple of days ago.

“It’s no trouble,” he answers, moving his jaw. “But if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re not a fan of the idea.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. No need to worry your pretty head about that.” 

Before taking the first step, he holds your arm and tugs you back toward him. Your eyes widen when he throws your jacket over your shoulders, “‘Might get cold,” he murmurs, fingers skimming down your bare arms. Then he sighs. “I love it when you call me pretty. Makes me all tingly inside.” 

“Well then,” you smile, leaning closer. “Let me say it again, you’re pretty. Prettiest man I know.” 

Joel's lips curl into a wide grin, his humming filling the air. “I’m blushin’,” he teases, capturing your lips in a swift, lingering kiss, lacing his fingers with yours. “I knew this would be a good idea,” he mutters against your lips in a self-congratulatory tone. His taste lingers on your mouth, leaving you craving more. 

“I don’t want to burst your bubble but I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. You never told me.” 

Hand in hand, you and Joel set off, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. The sun, beginning its descent from the vast expanse of blue skies, painted the world in a soft, golden hue. 

“We’re here to look at the murals,” he explains. “Thought you might like it, bein’ an artist and all. And if we get hungry there’s this Tex-Mex place I like to go to, I take Sarah there all the time.” 

He's nonchalant about it, yet he still averts his eyes. A soft crimson flares under his shirt, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Your heart beats quickly. You may now be a part of his life, but Sarah will always hold a tender place in his heart. Something he hesitates to share, like a tiny box of secrets. She's his everything. You wonder how many times he had to keep that part of himself hidden, how many times he mentioned his daughter and saw the hesitation in the other party's eyes. It's no one's fault, really. It's a complicated situation no matter which side you consider. And you're fairly certain he's never mentioned his romantic endeavors to Sarah. Why would he? To him, none of it ever led anywhere, so there was no sense in telling her about it.

You don't want him to be nervous about sharing more about that part of his life. You have adored Sarah ever since you met her. Now, you're somewhat grateful that it took the two of you longer than normal to get here. It gave you a chance to show him that no matter the state of your relationship, you'll be there for Sarah, for Tommy, and for everyone he cares about.

Because you care about them too. 

“You visit here a lot?” 

He tips his chin, “We used to,” he answers and offers you his arm, you thread the gap between torso and tricep. “When she was five we came here a lot. Really liked it.” 

A half chuckle, half exhale leaves his lips. You give him a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe we can come here together one day. Tommy too. We can make a day of it, I bet she misses it.” 

"Yeah," his eyes glaze over for a second, looking ahead towards the sun-kissed street. You softly dig your nails into his arm, snapping him out of it. He blinks and tenses under your touch. "Yeah, we definitely should. Maybe during spring break or somethin’."

You squeeze his arm again, and when he turns to look at you, you smile. He returns it in kind, and you feel his smile leave an imprint on your skin as his lips touch your forehead.

“Can’t wait to show you all of it, sweet tea.” 

And he does. 

Joel shows you everything that he loves. The streets of Austin come alive with vibrant murals, each one captivating in its own way—some simple, some complicated. You see the South Congress Mural on South Congress Avenue that stands tall, its graffiti letters painted in vibrant colors, depicting the cityscape. The italicized phrase 'I Love You So Much,' spray-painted by Amy Cook for her partner Liz Lambert—Joel doesn't say much here. He stares at it for a while before gripping your hand tighter. Suddenly, he tugs your arm, pressing his lips firmly against yours, sucking the air from your lungs. Here, you take a quick coffee break and continue on.

There are so many. Your eyes catch sight of a mural depicting a piece of toast and yellow butter, lovingly painted on a vibrant blue wall, inside the piece of butter and toast it says “you’re my butter half”. You laugh and nudge Joel in the ribs and repeat the words to him. His smile is the widest you’ve ever seen. 

Joel introduces you to Jeremiah the Innocent. A smiling cartoonish frog, on top of it you read HI, HOW ARE YOU. He then told you that Jeremiah had another name as well— Ron. Named by, of course, Sarah. Leaning closer, you tell Joel that you agree, the frog looks much more like a Ron rather than a Jeremiah. 

After that Joel, a keeper of his word, takes you to a small Tex-Mex place. He orders chips and queso as an appetizer, followed up by two cold beers and tacos. 

"I think you might have killed me," you say, rubbing your stomach and leaning back as the cold metal of the chair bites into your skin.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “So. . .no dessert?” 

“Don’t joke,” you answer seriously. “I always have room for dessert.” 

He laughs, “You sound like Sarah,” just as you begin to smile, he adds. “And Tommy actually. That man has an endless pit instead of a stomach.” 

“Tell me about it.” you grin. 

The sun begins to disappear, shades of light blue fading into something darker that lingers in the sky. It reminds you of the times when you angrily slap your widest brush on top of the canvas and just move it around without any aim or goal. The string lights come to life. Joel looks gorgeous under the soft glow; it's almost dreamlike. If you were to reach out, you're not entirely sure that he wouldn't fade away.

His hand finds yours over the table, lacing your fingers together. A stuttering, silent breath escapes your lips. The effects of alcohol buzz both in your veins and mind. His thumb traces your knuckles, a gesture so familiar yet foreign at the same time. With a smile, you bring the back of his hand to your lips before he does. You tenderly kiss him, feeling the softness of lips moving over the mountains and valleys of his hand. His breath hitches, and your ears feel warm.

"Should we head back?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker. His thumb finds purchase on your lower lip and tugs on it, eliciting a soft gasp. "I think I'm gettin’ hungry again."

You kiss the pad of his thumb as he cups your cheek, and you nuzzle into the width of his palm. Wetness gathers between your legs, heat building at the base of your spine. You can't wait for him to devour you.

Joel’s fingers trace the spine of the book that lays idly on your bedside table. He adorns a soft smile, gaze curious as he picks it up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning your back as he begins to flip through the pages. “I’m going to freshen up a bit, make yourself comfortable.” 

With that, you exit the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You're feeling positively tingly. The ache in your bones would normally entice you to go to bed early, but sleep is the last thing on your mind right now. All you want is for that man to ravage you. During the drive back, the only thing on your mind was his lips, his hands, his cock—his weight on your body.

You quickly splash cold water onto your face, sighing as the cool numbness replaces the sticky sweat from the day. After brushing your teeth, you head back. 

You smile when you see Joel sitting at the edge of the bed, book still in hand. 

He’s looking at something. 

You raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. There’s something in his hand, something smaller and vaguely familiar. 

Shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

“Joel?”  Your voice barely manages a whisper, you're surprised he hears your pleading call of his name. He flinches, shoulders raising all the way to his ears. You clear your throat. “What. . . What are you looking at?” 

You already know the answer. 

"How long have you had this?" he asks, every word sounding dull. He twists his body enough to face you, holding the small Polaroid picture between his fingers— oh god, you're screwed, aren't you?

"I-I can explain," you blurt out, increasing your steps' speed. You stand in front of him, the picture's glossy surface reflecting the light into your eyes. "You forgot your magazine, and when I opened it to read it, the... the picture just fell out, I swear! I know I should've told you, gave it back, but, well, I—"

Unable to keep your eyes open due to the constant spinning of the world around you, you close them. His gaze remains fixed on you, half moons hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. Embarrassment surges through you, heating you from the inside out. In a fit of desperation, you cover your face with both palms, sighing into them. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled by your hands.

Joel stares at you, dumbfounded. With shaky legs, he stands and gently cups your wrists, tugging your hand away from your face. You refuse to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to a spot on his neck. You miss how wide his eyes are, how his gaze grows soft as he stares. 

“Why are you sorry?” he whispers. “I think you misunderstood, sunshine. I ain’t mad. I’m embarrassed.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, lifting your gaze. “Why?” 

He smiles, “Lots of why’s goin’ around,” you continue to stare and he clicks his tongue. “It’s a half-naked picture of me. A picture that I took, you can’t blame me for gettin’ flustered.” 

“You look good.” 

“Thanks,” he scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s better that you found it instead of. . . Tommy or worse.” 

You know what worse means. He’s right, he was lucky it had been you. 

“I’m just glad you’re not mad.” 

“Me, mad at you?” he shakes his head, looking appalled by the thought. “Never.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

His hands drop to your waist. Fingers roughened with work digging into your flesh. The excitement you felt comes rushing back, flooding your veins. Joel pins your hips together, the growing outline of his cock brushing your clothed mound. You gasp and he inches impossibly close, lips brushing your ear. “Why did you have it in your little book over there?” he drawls, his voice thick. “Did you touch yourself lookin’ at it, sweetheart?” 

Your voice shakes and you can barely get a word out. You swallow, shaking your head. 

“Don’t lie,” he hums. The drag of his lips down your neck turns your insides into mush. “Can I see?” 

“See what?” 

A moment of silence follows. You take this time to unbutton his jeans and slip a hand underneath the dense fabric. You cup his length, and it hardens in your palm, growing in size. Your breath hitches as his hips move forward, chasing the grip of your fingers. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe him in, filling yourself with his scent. 

“I wanna watch,” his voice cracks. “See how you touched yourself while thinkin’ of me.” 

Your breath hitches, “And what will you be doing?” 

You stroke him slowly, the pad of your thumb moving over the slit before moving down again. You shiver at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin. 

“I’ll be watchin’, sweetheart. Engraving your spread-out cunt into memory.” 

“Jesus, Joel,” you breathe heavily, your pulse loudly thrumming in your veins. Joel is absolutely filthy—something you never thought you’d be thinking. He tugs you towards the bed. With every step, another garment falls to the floor. You’re shivering all over, body cold yet warm at the same time. The expectation crackling in the air pricks at your skin. 

What is this? It never felt like this before. A need so desperate. A want so large. In this moment you’re convinced that you and Joel were always meant to be as pretentious that might sound. You have no idea how else to explain it. Every time you’re with him, even in the most peaceful moments, you feel an impending. . . something. You’re not sure what it is yet but you know it’s a wicked, dark feeling. A dystopian surrealism. The works of  Zdzisław Beksiński; death, destruction, shattered worlds. . . yet still beautiful. You love those paintings. Just like Joel, it leaves you uneasy and mystified. 

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the bedrest, your naked legs falling open like a butterflys’ wings. You wait for a touch that never comes. Joel drags the chair and takes a seat. He pulls out his hefty length, fingers loosely curling around it. You hold your breath. 

“Don’t keep me waitin’ now,” he rasps as he touches himself lazily. “Show me.” 

Your eyes never leave him, and you slowly circle your clit with two fingers. An immediate sense of relaxation and soft pleasure blossom over different patches of skin. You pinch the sensitive bundle of nerves and continue moving your fingers around. You arch your hips, wetness growing with every stroke. Your insides clench. Joel’s heavy breathing fills the room, your own breathing coming out in short pants. 

“Spread yourself darlin’,” his voice lowers, making your stomach turn. With two fingers you show him, spreading yourself s while you circle the middle one around your clit. A soft whimper of his name echoes from the back of your throat. It’s different like this. Knowing that he’s right there, staring, observing your every move. It lits a fire between your legs. A feeling so raw and open.  

Your ache swells inside of you like wildfire. You keen at the slick sounds of Joel’s fist accompanying your own lewd sounds. The rest of the world falls silent, your mind a complete blank, your sole focus on the man that makes you feel soft and tender. 

A build-up to an orgasm can be a strange thing. Sometimes you don’t think of anything or anyone, just focused on your fingers and the fire between your legs. Other times your imagination becomes so vivid that you swear there’s a cock splitting you open. Your stomach clenches, muscles rippling under the faux feeling of someone being there with you. And, technically, there is someone with you but not in the typical sense. Your back lifts from the mattress, your feet sliding down the soft sheets as your fingers move frantically. You can feel it hardening, throbbing under your ministrations. 

“That’s it,” Joel groans, the bed dips, you’re too far gone to notice he stopped jerking off and is inching closer for a better look. “Come for me, darlin’. Let’s see how you make a mess.” 

Your ears ring 

Your lips part so wide that the corners are aflame

Your throat constricts a silent plea

Your fingers twitch, insides pulsing as you gush and make a mess—just like he wanted. 

You love doing what he asks of you. 

You feel it trickling down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your ass. It’s too much. Whimpers rattling your chest, your throat sore. Joel mutters praise, telling you how good you are, how perfect. Another soft lingering orgasm warms you from the inside out, more drops of pure ecstasy spilling over. 

He trails his hand up the inside your thigh, slick gathering at the tips of his fingers. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you clench around nothing, “Next time I’m bringin’ the camera over.” you give him a look and he chuckles. “It’s only fair, don’t ya think?” 

“I don’t think that picture will be sexy as you think,” you answer, smiling. 

He frowns, his look almost glaring as he stares into your eyes, “Bulshit. You’re gorgeous. It’ll be like havin’. . . the . . . Mona Lisa in my pocket,” he says, slightly unsure.

"I do appreciate you using art references whenever you talk to me; it's like a gimmick," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you want a picture, you can have one. Just promise not to leave it lying around like you did with your own. I don't need any more embarrassing moments in my life."

“We all have embarrassing moments.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a promise,” you answer with a playful lilt. He rolls his eyes, a hand sneaking down between your bodies, he aligns himself with your sopping sex, cock filling you slowly, inch by inch. Your eyelids flutter, a moan ripping from you. 

Fully inside you, he murmurs into your mouth, “I’ll guard it with my life. Promise.” 

His words fall on deaf ears. Your vision blurs at the stretch of his cock, drawing his hips back, only the bulbous head remains. He watches you. Watches your fluttering cunt adjust to the size, then, just as you’re about to say something, he slams into you. Electricity crackles over your skin, a sensation that makes you feel numb. Joel buries his head into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin as he sets a brutal pace. His strokes are slow and hard. Every ridge felt as he massages the insides of your cunt. It’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. So much so that you think you’re crying a little, soft salty tears gathering in your eyes. 

“You wanna know something?” he groans, fucking deeper into you. “I thought of you while takin’ the picture. Thought about this perfect cunt.” 

He holds your thighs with a heavy hold, pushing both legs up until your knees are grazing your forehead. You don’t think being a pretzel ever felt so good. Joel jackhammers into you, the wet glide of his cock leaves you breathless. Between narrowed eyes you watch him; his brows furrowed with concentration, lips slightly ajar, pink tongue poking out. He’s flushed. The soft tint of red looks good on him. You desperately want to bury your lips into his neck and lick the vein that meanders down, you want to sink your teeth into it. 

In a quick glimpse, his eyes briefly catch yours. The muscle in his jaw moves and he licks his lips, the color in his irises gone, eaten away by lust. You notice him pursing his lips and your eyes go wide, a thin line of saliva drips from his mouth, adding to the mess between your thighs. Your breath falters, you squeez him tight. His hips stutter but he’s not phased by the sudden tightness. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, voice hoarse. “I wanna feel you comin’ around my cock.” 

You moan at how soaked you are, your fingers playing with the mixture of spit and slick. It doesn’t take you long. A couple swipes of your fingers and you’re seeing stars. Your orgasm sears you from the inside out, your entire body tensing at the force of his thrusts. With a knee-jerk reaction, you grip the back of your thigh, nails biting into your skin. He pushes your hand away, thumb soothingly going over the crescent-shaped marks. 

His unwavering gaze aggravates you. A sudden shame rolling in your stomach, he bats the thoughts away by allowing your legs to fall and frame his broad waist. Suddenly his lips are on your own, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing the moans. He tastes your hesitations, your fears, your unsaid love for him—all of it, from a single, hungry, messy kiss. 

Joel’s hips slow down into a delicious grind, the coarse hairs that crown his cock doused, you feel the brush of his pelvis on the pearl that beats. Your insides flutter one last time before he’s pulling out, spilling over the soft flesh of your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he moans into your open mouth. You shudder at the trickle of seed on your skin. “That was amazin’ sweetheart. You always feel so fuckin’ good. ‘Can’t wrap my head around it.” 

You giggle, “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, neighbor,” you feel the wet drag of his lips down your cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before.” 

“You’re just sayin’ that,” he tuts, breath fanning your neck. 

“Do I need to remind you how we ended up in this bed?” you tease. “You, finding a picture of yourself that I masturbated to? If that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what will.” 

He thinks about it for a second then shrugs, “Fair.” 

“By the way thank you for. . . everything. I had a great time Joel,” you thread your fingers through his mussed hair and he lays his head on your chest. His hand gently cups the underside of your breast, a possessive gesture. You feel the scrape of his beard as he speaks. 

“I didn’t do nothin’ special. You deserve more.” 

Your heart clenches the ache of his self-deprecation a reflection of his inability to perceive his own worth. “Stop selling yourself short—” 

He cuts you off, “You deserve to have a relationship you don’t need to hide. It’s not fair.” 

Your heart splinters, torn between the desire to protect what you have and the yearning to be truthful to those that you love. When your silence grows, Joel look up to you, his eyes wide like full moons. And just as somber. Your lips crack in a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “We’ll tell him eventually. When we’re ready, right?” 

He swallows, throat moving. “Yeah,” he answers, gaze breaking away from yours. “We will. When we’re ready.” 

Neither of you are brave enough to ask when that might be. 

The sun beats down on Tommy’s skin and with the back of his hand, he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. Next to the grill is always the hottest. It’s a beautiful day out, birds chirping, sun shining and whenever a cloud passes by, adding a bit of color to the boring blue sky, Tommy sighs in relief, enjoying the fleeting coolness of the passing shadow.

Joel is at the grill, and from the corner of his eye, Tommy sees him turning the ribs and chicken wings. A loud sizzle fills the air, and with a hiss, Joel backs away, cursing as a searing drop of fat lands on his tanned skin. In typical younger sibling fashion, Tommy laughs, earning an equally heated glare from his older brother. Neither of them says a word. Joel returns his gaze to the meats, while Tommy shifts his eyes back to the large bowl he's holding. It contains a mixture of a generous amount of barbecue sauce, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, minced garlic, smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. He gives them another vigorous stir before adding the stemless button mushrooms. He tosses them all together until each one is evenly coated.

A bead of sweat rolls down his face, “Joel, I know you have this sense of always wantin’ to be right but I doubt our recipe is gonna be the one to change her mind about mushrooms.” 

“It will,” he grunts, shirt dipping and sticking between his shoulder blades. “If she doesn’t, more for us.” 

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” 

Joel doesn’t answer and Tommy doesn’t bother to force a conversation. The silence he shares with his brother has always been a comfortable one, but lately, that hasn’t quite been the case. There’s this wall that he can’t seem to breach no matter what he does or says. And ever since Joel broke up with Asha, it only got worse. He can’t shake the sense that whatever his older brother had in mind, it must be about you. It has to be. 

Tommy’s feelings for you haven’t exactly disappeared. As much as he wished he had a button to turn it all off, he can’t, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t mind staying friends. What he feels for you is more than that. He enjoys your company, your jokes, your thoughts. He can’t imagine living out the rest of his life without it. 

However, he's not stupid, contrary to what many people might believe.

Tommy has noticed the stares, the weird tension in his brother’s shoulders whenever you’re around. Hell, if Joel has feelings for you he should just own up to it, talk about it. All Tommy wants is for Joel to come and talk to him. However, when it comes to romance, Joel rarely does. Even after the breakup with Asha, Joel barely said a word. Tommy later on learned the details from Asha and it fucking stung. 

Ever since they were little, Joel had this tendency to shoulder everything, it didn’t matter if the issue was big or small, he would carry it, and he would do so in silence. Tommy hated that. He wanted to talk about things, wanted to tell Joel about his nightmares, the blank notebook that Tommy can’t bring himself to write into—he desperately wants things to change. He wants Joel to stop playing the martyr. Tommy’s not a kid anymore, they can carry the weight together. 

“Gosh that smells delicious!”

Tommy jerks at the sound of your voice. Startled, he looks up and sees you making your way through Joel’s yard, carrying a Tupperware full of coleslaw and a pitcher of homemade iced tea. You place both items on the wooden table and walk toward the brothers. Just as you pass by Joel, your hand brushes his shoulder. Again, Tommy sees him visibly tense with the contact. 

You turn to Tommy, arms spread wide, a joyous grin stretched across your face. Tommy mimics the expression, pulling up a different kind of mask. He pulls you into a tight embrace and presses his lips ointo your forehead. 

"Oh, are those the mushrooms?" you ask, still held within Tommy's arms, your gaze lowered to the small table Joel brought out for food prep. "I'm both terrified and excited."

“I hope you’ll like’em,” Tommy answers. “Joel is convinced that you will.” 

You laugh and mouth at Tommy, "Do you think he'll explode if he turns out to be wrong?" Tommy can barely hide the snicker that escapes his lips.

“I heard that,” Joel grunts without looking. 

You expertly move the conversation along, “Where’s Sarah?” 

"She should be here soon," he responds. "She mentioned wanting to buy some lemon bars for the barbecue."

“Where is she buying them from? Olivia is going to come over too so she can pick Sarah up.” 

After discussing locations and making a quick phone call, Olivia happily agrees to pick up Sarah because, according to you, she's not that far away anyway. You help Tommy skewer the barbecue mushrooms, and conversation flows seamlessly. Even Joel gradually loosens up, relaxing as he starts to place the prepared skewers. You appear surprisingly cheerful, and Tommy doesn't mean to imply that you were ever a downer—rather, he hasn't seen you this relaxed in a long time. It seems the grief that had molded you months ago, forcing you to behave a certain way, had loosened around you. Now you see what he’s seen all along; that you deserved to make jokes and have fun and be happy. 

He likes to think he had a part to play in that with the renovation of the room.

In the midst of finishing up the mushrooms, a car stops, and a moment later, Olivia and Sarah hop out.

Sarah wastes no time wrapping her nimble arms around Tommy's neck, giving him a tight hug. Tommy returns the gesture in kind, lifting her off the ground a little. "Hey, sugarcube! How was school?"

"Boring," she answers, letting go. "How was work?"

Tommy scrunches up his nose, prompting a bubble of laughter from her. "Boring," he parrots.

While Sarah heads inside to change, Olivia places the lemon bars on the table and comes to greet you. The sizzle of the grill fills the air as Sarah's voice cuts through the lively atmosphere, calling out to Joel from the window of the house. "Dad, I can't find my purple shirt!" she exclaims. “You said you’d have it washed today!” 

Joel turns his attention away from the grill, a concerned furrow forming on his brow. "I'll be right there, sweetheart," he assures her. He looks over at Olivia. "Liv, can you man the grill for a moment?"

Olivia nods, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Consider it done. You go find that shirt."

With a grateful nod, Joel moves swiftly toward the house, leaving Olivia to handle the grilling duties. He passes by Tommy and you, giving a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgment before disappearing inside.

Tommy's gaze follows Olivia as she confidently takes charge of the grill, her tongs expertly flipping the remaining skewers and wings. There's a sense of ease in her movements, a natural grace that Tommy finds captivating. Her focused expression softens with a slight smile. 

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a moment to observe you as you retrieve a couple of cold beers from the cooler. The sunlight catches in your hair, casting a warm glow around you. 

You approach him with the beers in hand, Tommy can't help but be captivated by your infectious smile. It's a smile that reaches your eyes, radiating happiness and a genuine warmth that draws him in. He takes one of the beers from you, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Cheers," you say, raising your bottle in a toast. Tommy mirrors your action, their bottles clinking together, the sound ringing in the air.

"Cheers," he replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. The clinking of the bottles marks a moment of connection, a shared bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Olivia suddenly says, snapping your attention from Tommy to her. He frowns.  

“What is?” you ask. 

“That I’m here. . . doing all the work without a beer in my hand.” 

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cooler, “You could’ve just asked you know?” you tease, handing her a cold bottle. She shrugs with a wink. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Tommy smells smoke. The crackling of flames too loud. Their banter fades into the background. His body grows tense by instinct, feeling the threat of danger that isn’t there. He becomes uncharacteristically still, listening, but not hearing anything. 

“Ah shit, I burnt it,” Olivia hisses, fanning the smoke with a moisturized hand. “Well, at least I only burned three of them. You guys think Joel will kill me?” 

He hears bits of the conversation, your laughter following Olivia’s words. The smoke in the air is thicker now, grayer. Sweat sticks to his skin and Tommy swears he feels the familiar feeling of hot dirt on his skin. Unaware, he starts rubbing his arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling. 

Tommy smells gunpowder. 

He hears bullets whizzing through the air. 

Just as the grill suddenly flares up, a searing pain jolts through Tommy's body. In his disoriented state, he misconstrues your touch on his back as a threat. Reacting instinctively, he moves away, his mind clouded. His hand inadvertently catches your wrist, twisting the limb. You let out a shout. 

A surge of guilt pierces Tommy's heart as he realizes that it’s you. His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and remorse, and he releases his grip on your wrist, his hands trembling. "Fuck, sorry—" he stammers, choked up. "I. . . I thought. . ."

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees Joel above your shoulder, his face etched with concern, closely followed by Sarah. 

"What happened?" Joel demands.

You step in before Tommy can explain, his chest heaves, “Nothing, I just startled him.” 

Joel doesn’t seem to buy it, his gaze fixed on his baby brother, he raises an eyebrow. “Tommy?” he asks again, his voice leveled. 

Tommy's gaze shifts from you to Joel and Sarah. He struggles to find the right words, his mind still tangled in a web. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head. Joel’s gaze softens, hands coming up to cup Tommy’s cheeks. He lifts his brother’s gaze to face his own. 

"It's okay, Tommy. We're here. We're safe, you’re home," when Tommy attempts to back away, Joel holds him tighter. "Let's just take a moment to breathe."

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second when Joel visibly takes a deep, slow breath. Joel looks at him with a sign of expectation and the younger Miller mimics the way he breathes. Deep and slow. One, two, three. Once more, and that’s it. He’s breathing again. The sky is blue again. 

“Shiiiit,” he exhales on the last breath. Joel drops his hands and takes a step back, you’re standing right next to him, brows drawn together. Suddenly the guilt is back. “I’m sorry,” he says the apology muffled by clenched teeth. “Are you. . . okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you say hovering back and forth, wanting to come closer but also not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you need anything?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he takes a step closer, taking your wrist between his fingers. He gently smooths his thumb over where he bent—god, he’s a fucking mess. “We should put some ice on that.” 

“I got it!” Olivia jumps out, placing the end of the cold bottle on your wrist. You stifle a snort. She narrows her eyes at you. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.” 

You roll your eyes, “Thanks, Liv.” 

Tommy pulls away and takes a seat. Content in having calmed his brother, Joel returns to the grill and gives Olivia a look that screams, "What the hell have you done?!" 

He smiles, feeling his racing heart finally begin to calm down.

“Are you sure you’re alright uncle Tommy?” 

His eyes meet Sarah’s, two concerned and observant juvenile eyes staring into his own. He’s not sure what to say—no, he knows what to say, he just doesn’t know how to say it in a way that she’ll believe him. 

Without waiting for a response, Sarah sits next to him and reaches for two glasses and the pitcher. She pours iced tea into both. “Here,” she says, prompting him to replace the beer with the glass. Tommy obliges. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he murmurs. “That ain’t your responsibility.” 

“It’s not. . . but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry. And I know you can’t talk to me about it, I’m not dad, but you know I love you, right?” 

“‘Course I do,” Tommy answers quickly, ignoring the way the sun stings his eyes, he forces them to stay open. “Your dad takes good care of me. And I know you care, I appreciate the reminder though,” he lets out a sigh, drags a heavy palm down his face, and swallows. “I’m gonna get better.” I have to get better. 

Sarah doesn’t say another word. She slowly drops her head to his shoulder, looks over to her father who’s in the middle of placing three mushroom skewers on your plate. Tommy smiles. 

“They’re idiots,” she murmurs, he doesn’t miss the affectionate cadence in her tone. 

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “But they’re our idiots.” 

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. However, your love for mushrooms still remained nonexistent, much to Joel's surprise. He was shocked to see that his and Tommy's barbecue mushrooms hadn't managed to convert you into an avid mushroom lover. In an attempt to mask the lingering taste, you nearly downed the entire pitcher of iced tea—making sure Joel wasn't looking, of course. He was still quite salty about not liking them. He even went far as to pout about it, which you found adorable if you’re being completely honest. You're not sure his ego could handle the thought of you desperately wanting to scrub your tongue with a sponge.

Olivia was the first one to leave as the scorching sun was replaced by shiny stars, and you helped with cleaning up. You noticed that Tommy was avoiding your gaze like the plague, and Joel remained silent about what had happened. Your wrist, although not physically hurting, still ached. You had promised him that you would be there for him, but you felt like you had failed miserably. You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, and if today was any indication, there was a lot happening.

When he’s about to bid his farewells, you touch his forearm. It’s such a small gesture but he flinches anyway and you quickly withdraw your hand. You chew the inside of your cheek. 

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, swallowing. “I have some leftover wine.” 

It doesn’t take him long to answer but the seconds that pass feel like an eternity. He nods and gestures to the door. 

“I’ll be waitin’ outside, go get your things.” 

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a sec.” 

He closes the door softly behind him. A click that is barely audible. You hear footsteps and turn to see Joel exiting the kitchen. “Everythin’ good?” he asks. 

“I think so, I invited Tommy over. I think it’ll be good to talk.” 

You see it in his eyes, the need to hold you, to cradle your cheeks and brush your lips together. The internal fight is visible from his expression. You figure which side wins when he remains still, staring, eyes flitting between you and the windows near the door. Tommy’s smoking a cigarette with his back turned. 

“I think so too,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He’s been more closed off lately and my usual grumpy self probably ain’t helpin’.” 

“I applaud you for admitting that you are, in fact, grumpy.” 

He tries to hide it but can’t, a small smile peeking from under his mustache. “Shut up.” 

“I really wanna say make me,” you grin and pick up your bag. “But I don’t think we have time for that.” 

“I’ll remember, don’t worry.” 

You ignore the way your legs press together at the sudden drop in his tone. The chill of the doorknob sends shivers down your spine. You’re afraid of being alone with Tommy. You’re scared that you’re going to blurt everything, all of it. You miss being able to talk to him—Tommy definitely wasn’t a stranger to the rants about the many failed romances in your life. With a sigh, you crack the door open. You hear a shift behind you. . . then a gentle hand on your waist. 

A kiss on the back of your neck. 

“Call me if you need anythin’.” 

“I will.” 

You finally step into the warm night. Tommy turns to you, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe, the younger Miller looks over your shoulder. 

“See ya later old timer,” he calls out to Joel. You don’t hear him answer but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, the click of the door follows. Cigarette loose between his lips, Tommy offers you his arm and you take it. 

The walk to your home is a silent one. 

Your house is ominous in the dark, quickly, you flick the lights open. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

“I always do,” he murmurs and takes off his shoes. “Would it be alright if we skip the wine? I’m not really feelin’ up for it.” 

“Of course,” you answer. “Do you want anything else?” 

“Nah. Let’s just talk.” 

The request takes you by surprise. You blink dumbly at the back of his head, and when the silence fills the space between you, he turns. He stares at you for a moment, gauging what your reaction means. His brows come together, a humorful smile tugging at one corner of his lips. 

“Why do you look so shocked? That’s why you invited me over right? To talk.” 

“I. . . Yeah, exactly.” 

He heads to the living room and you follow his trail like a lost duckling. “Before you say anythin’,” he says, lifting a hand as you take a seat next to him. “Let me apologize. I didn’t mean. . . I would never hurt you. Today was an accident, I got lost.” 

Lost. . . that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it? 

“It’s okay, it was my mistake really. I shouldn’t have touched you when you were so out of it. Can I. . . Can I ask what you were thinking about?” 

His shoulders raise, his breathing becomes shallow, “I think it was because of the smoke. I was right there, at the battlefield, again. Fuck. I didn’t know.” 

You wait for him to continue. 

“There ain’t much out there you know? Just you and a couple of brothers you made along the way. When you see them fall, it’s hard to erase the memory of it.” 

“No one is expecting you to erase it,” you whisper, your hand hovers above his knee and when he nods, you place itover the curve. “As hard as it is, that’s a part of you. No one blames you for today. No one is mad at you. We just want you to be okay—I want you to be okay.” 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m workin’ on it. I just hate talkin’ about it so much. I tried. . .I tried to be the hero you know? I tried so hard to make a difference. It didn’t mean nothin’ and when you realize the person you’re gunnin’ down is just as lost as you are, you realize there are no heroes in the battlefield.” a sudden chuckle bursts from his lips, compeltly void, he covers his face with a palm. “But I’m still so stupid. I still want to believe some difference can be made. I want to be good so fuckin’ bad and I don’t know why. I should be happy just doin’ my own thing like Joel but I’m not.” 

His words sink into your skin, blend with the blood in your veins, and suffocate your lungs. You want to cry. He sounds so broken, so hopeless. The need to hold him makes your knees tremble. You imagine an eighteen-year-old Tommy, signing up with the army with a hopeful gaze. You’ve heard the stories, remember Joel telling you the arguments that followed after that. Tommy hadn’t backed down, adamant about proving his brother wrong. The stubborn nature of it reminds you of your own brother, the endless arguments that would go on and on and on with your grandfather. 

The army takes their hopes and dreams and spits them out broken and strange. 

“You’re not stupid, Tommy,” you mutter, barely audible. “We all want to be good. There’s no shame in that. I’m. . .similar, I always want to do the right thing. I want to be good too. Don’t compare yourself to Joel he. . . he got lucky with Sarah. As long as she’s happy and safe he doesn’t care about right and wrong. We on the other hand, we’re still trying to find ourselves. It’s not as easy for us to make that distinction. We think endlessly about the ones who get caught in the crossfire.” 

God, but you aren’t doing the right thing. It’s easy to forget that with Joel’s lips on your skin—sure, maybe you’re not straight-up lying to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being dishonest. 

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. So round and wide. “People like you can’t try to be good,” he answers, confusing you. He waits, allowing the silence to follow as he thinks of his words. “You’re already good. You don’t need to try to be.” 

The confession bubbles up from your chest to your throat. You taste it. Sweet like sugar and deadly like poison. You have to tell him. You need to tell him. 

You lick your lips, your mouth  dry like sandpaper. He’s staring directly into your soul, he sees something hopeful. Something good. You want to shake him, tell him that he’s the good one. He doesn’t blink. Not once. You open your mouth. You’re going to do it, you’re going to tell him and whatever happens next, however he reacts, it’s what you deserve. 

Normally, Tommy’s eyes are a shade lighter compared to his older brother’s. While Joel’s eyes walk the line of being downright black, Tommy’s always reminds you of your favorite brand of chocolate. 

But right now it’s dark as night. Just like Joel’s. 

“Hey,” he finally blinks, smiling. The confession that had bubbled to the surface slowly simmers down. “We should get some sleep.” 

“But—” 

“I appreciate you talkin’ to me sweetheart. I. . . feel better, in a weird way,” he comes closer, kisses your cheek. His lips are damp. “I’ll be sure to talk to you more in the future, a’right? Promise.” 

“Okay,” you mumble. You both get up from the couch and saunter upstairs, the air that surrounds you lighter. He takes the guest bedroom, the room where August slept the week before. 

Tommy stills at the door, “Well, goodnight.” 

You can’t leave it at this, you just can’t. 

“Tommy, I need to tell you something.” your words are sharp and clear. His hand tightens around the doorknob, what does he think you’re about to say? 

“Yeah?” 

You can’t do it. Coward. 

“Do you need. . . another pillow?” 

“Um,” he opens the door, takes a look. “No, I’m good. Is that all you were gonna say?” 

“It is.” 

It isn’t. 

I'm sorry that this took me insanely long for some reason???? Honestly, I blame the fact that I'm not used to writing family dynamics, it's hard. 😭😭😭 but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you guys thought 💜

I did make a post about it but I'll be taking a small break from SIB, I will return to it and will be working on it in the background but I really need to let my mind loose. The next two chapters are already outlined so y'all won't be waiting for that long! This isn't one of those series where the rest of the plot is lost in time and space and I'm too chicken to work on it lmaodfvd

Thank you so much for all the support!!

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader, 3.7k words, WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injury, stitches, cursing, violence

Guys... is it weird that I'm crying a little? This is the first series that I've ever done. This is from the first post i ever made on this blog, and I feel like I've met so many amazing people from this series. I did spend a good amount of time thinking of a good way to close this series, and I can only hope that I made it good enough for you guys. My heart breaks leaving these two behind, but I don't think this is the end for them. I do see myself writing some one shots or other things for these two. But regardless... I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy this final installment. Sending all of my love always. - Mo

---

Any soldier worth his salt knows what getting shot feels like. Either through their own experience or staying beside their brother. They all say the same thing.

A hard punch.

The immediate all encompassing burn.

Your body feels like you’ve been run over by a train.

Your body on fire.

Air sliding through your lungs like glass shards.

Alfred Solomons has been shot five times.

Six counting this one. The first time was when he was 14, and he was caught snatching sweets from the corner store, and the old store owner with the bad eyes shot at Alfie, grazing his left thigh. The other four times were in the war. Foot and shoulder and once in the lower back, which is still troubling him to this day. All of those were the same. Rage inducing. The bloodlust burning brighter than the flame of the pain. In hours he was fixed up. Rusty scalpels and pliers pulling out the shrapnel as he numbed the cuts by drowning in drink and breaking metal bars with his teeth.

This one was different. The burn and hit was memorable. As memorable as a betrayal. But the bloodlust that got him through that burn wasn’t present. Like warm oil being poured over his mind and body he felt the exhaustion of the tears settle over him. And look. An angel has come to take him to stay with the forefathers. Wow… what a mercy… the angel looks so much like you. Sounds and smells just like you. Like lavender. Like spilled ink and fresh paper. So soft and tender. What a mercy God has given him. That the angel to walk him to the other side would look like the only woman he has ever truly loved.

Tommy and Ollie rush over, as John pulls you away from Alfie's body. You screamed and kicked, trying to get free from John's grasp. "It's alright love it's alright. They're going to fix him up I promise love! He's gonna be ok!" John tried to calm you but you were inconsolable as you saw Alfie's lifeless body being carried out. It takes four men to life his large and hardened body off the ground, a pool of garnet the only sign of the King of Camden’s presence.

John’s attempts at soothing and assurance are met with deaf ears. What point is there for calm and rationalization when Alfie might be leaving you. What point was there to breathe, if breathing meant prolonging a life on Earth that may not have Alfie. Your mind was blank. And you body could do the only rational thing it could do. Wail and preparation for the certain mourning to come.

With a hard smack across your face you suddenly cease, as you see Polly's face in front of you, "Enough! This is not the time for screaming!"

Your lip quivered, never had you been smacked like that before. With a wave, Polly dismissed John to assist Ollie and Tommy, and took you to a chair to sit. Polly wiped your tears, "I am sorry for slapping you, usually I don't smack friends till we are at least 3 months acquainted, but I felt you needed it and I'm sure our friendship will survive. But you need to pull it together darling."

You nodded. It was needed. Even if your ego was now bruised. Polly sighed, "I know you're scared. We all have been in your shoes. But you cannot lose yourself. We need to be there for our men. Yes?"

You nodded. Your man. Your Alfie. Polly stroked your face, "He will live.”

“How can you be sure?”

Polly gives you an embarrassed look, attempting to push up the corner of her mouth, “They always do darling. Try as they might to die, they somehow always make it out. I think God may think these episodes are more of a punishment than Hell.”

A defeated chuckle pushes out of your chest. Alfie would say something as dark as that. And for some reason that makes you feel better. Makes you feel more centered. Polly grabs a bottle from the ground and takes a long swig before passing it to you. You take a longer one, pushing to suppress the sick face you make. Polly’s eyes are glassy, looking at your young face. Thinking and considering how you would handle this. Handle this life. Because if her intuition was right, and it always was, this wouldn’t be the last time you experienced this. This wouldn’t deter you from being next to Alfie. As if Alfie would ever let you go.

Polly stood up suddenly, looking in the gilded mirror on the wall nearest to her, smoothing her dress and repinning those loose curls that fell out in the fray. She holds out a regal hand to you, “C’mon dear. I know where they’d be taking him. He’ll want you near I wager.”

You nod and stand up, not making anymore to wipe the blood or tears off your face. Though it doesn’t stop Polly from straightening out your slip and placing your hair more akin to how you came in. As you begin walking to the door, you see a familiar glint in the shadows and wet of the floor.

Alfie’s signet ring. Small. Small for Alfie at least. You knew him to wear it on his left pinky amongst the rest of his rings. Pure gold, with a royal S engraved onto its front with ivy and thorns. You pause to pick it up and hold it in your hand. It must have slipped off in the scuffle and removal of his body. Polly looked behind herself to see what had made you stop, and marveled at how you had even caught it, “How did you even see that?”

“I suppose I’m just good at looking for his things.”

Polly smiled softly, a familiar ache in her chest reappearing. “Well make sure you don’t drop it hmm? I’m sure he’ll want it back.”

You nod, immediately slipping it onto your left ring finger. You knew innately it wouldn’t budge. It was a perfect fit.

The Shelby family had a trusted physician who routinely dealt with these sort of things. Stand. Cuts. Gunshots. The occasional childhood scrape or concussion when the children needed a good scolding and scare to not be stupid. Dr. Hendricks had been the Shelby physician for many many years. So when he was called for ‘a slight emergency’ he knew that he needed to make immediate preparations.

The Shelby boys and Ollie bashed in the ornate door of Dr. Hendricks’ door, and were immediately met with Mrs. Hendricks pushing the men into the dining room. Already prepped and cold with sterile air Dr. Hendricks directed further with a low and booming voice, “Right here Mr. Shelby, hurry, can’t risk anymore blood loss.”

Alfie was pale, but was still breathing and choking out small groans. Mrs. Hendricks worked diligently alongside the Doctor, who asked questions and made conversation with the men, trying to bring down the tension. “Mr. Solomons boys? Why the sudden fit of charity.”

Mrs. Hendricks hushed him and his sore mouth. But his cheek was what made him so beloved by the Shelbys. Even in what seemed like dire moments, the good Doctor was never one to shy away from a joke or jab. Suddenly Alfie groaned under the crowd. Tommy looked down, shocked Alfie was awake now. Alfie, through the pain and blood, groaned and moaned your name through his teeth. Tommy grabbed Alfie’s arm, “Alright Alfie alright. She’s coming. Took a little bit of a hit didn’t ya old man? You stay awake now for her yeah? Can’t let the girl see ya like this.”

The pain was a hell of a drug, and Alfie could only slur out, “She ok? That little viper make it out ok?”

Tommy could only smile. Even with all the blood loss he was still himself. “Yeah Alfie. Yeah she’s alright. A right harpy screaming out for ya. Now you gotta get fixed up for when she comes back alright?”

Alfie nodded, slipping in and out as the final fragments were being removed, “As soon as im stitched up… I’m killing every Sabini I see. Then I’m fuckin marrying her… you hear me?”

Tommy smiled as Dr. Hendricks scoffed, “I hear you Alfie. I know you will.”

Alfie passed back out on the table. Dr. Hendricks nodded at Tommy and Ollie, “He’ll be alright. Nearly hit some vital organs but it’s alright. Have a nasty scar though, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll probably sleep for the rest of the night and into the morning. You all stay here, let’s keep an eye on him yeah? Mrs. Hendricks? Would you call the kitchen to make some supper for the gentlemen here and ladies to come?”

Mrs. Hendricks and the kitchen must have indeed been witches in a past life, or in the present. because there was no logical reason that such a warm and delectable feast could have been prepared so quickly. Soup and bread and cold chicken brought up with strong tea and coffee. When John Shelby asked for gin, his head was swiftly smacked by the effervescent Mrs. Hendricks, who quickly reminded him that she knew where all his sore spots were.

Polly and you arrived soon enough, and were embraced by the Doctor and his wife. The Shelby men stood up quickly, nodding to you in respect. Ollie shucked off his coat to drape over you. It was warm in the house. But your shivering wasn’t for cold.

Before you could look to Dr. Hendricks, he gruffed out from behind his thick salt and pepper beard, “No need to fret Miss. He was a model surgical patient. Nearly slept through the entire thing. In fact that stomach of his is a model for good stitchin’ would you like to see?”

Before Dr. Hendricks could pull back the clean and crisp cotton laid over Alfie’s bare torso to show you his no doubt fantastic work, Mrs. Hendricks stopped with a cherub like hand on his thick arm, “My dear, I don’t think the lady would feel keen on seeing her darling cut and stitched. Maybe some other time yes? Why don’t we let her have time alone with Mr. Solomons? It’s late. I think we should all retire yes?”

With a look around the room everyone nodded, giving their best to you and expressing incredible thank to the Doctor and Mrs. Hendricks. The Shelby boys tipped their hats to you as they filed out. Ollie nodded to you, assuring you that he’d alert your family of your whereabouts. Polly gave you a motherly hug, kissing the tip of your head, “Chin up dear. Must be strong when he wakes up. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

As soon as you came in, you were left alone. With the soft voice of Mrs. Hendricks pulling out of your numb trance. “Let’s get you cleaned up dear. Get you in something a little more comfortable. My daughter was about your size, and I have some of her clothes in her old room.”

Like a child who just woke out of a long slumber, you were lead down the short hallways littered with photos and paintings and certificates to the now guest room of the Hendricks home. Once she realized you had gone nearly despondent, Mrs. Hendricks helped you out of your stained dress, and into a soft cream colored night gown, with pink ribbon threaded through the top. She called one of the maids bring up hot water to wash the makeup, dirt, and dried crusted blood off your face and arms. Your dress was taken to be washed, and Mrs. Hendricks un-pinned your hair, getting it loose and out of your face. She sat you back in the make shift hospital room once she assured your were comfortable and clean. She poured tea for you. Something strong. Something hot. Your thumb rubbed across the delicate ridges on the cup, incredibly interested in the greenery hand painted on the china. Unable to face the near stillness of Alfie on a table.

“You love him don’t you?”

You feel those tears welling up in your eyes. Unable to speak any louder than a whisper, you confess, “Very much.”

She smiled softly, placing her thick soft hands on your knee, “He called for you.”

You looked up, “Did he?”

A soft chuckle left her, and she sounded so much like your mother, “He did. That’s the thing about these military gangster men yeah? Big and strong and tough. Till they get hurt. Then they cry for their women. I think we are the only things that help.”

You nodded, a pained smile sneaking on your lips, hands gingerly slipping into his rough hands. So much gentler now in sleep. Your eyes never leave his hands as you ask, “How do you stand it? How does any woman stand it?”

Mrs. Hendricks just sighs. Remembering the old days with her dear husband James. Back when he running with the Lee boys. When the medical practice wasn’t just a medical practice. There was a reason he was so good at stitching people up. Mrs. Hendricks leaned back in the chair, “By trusting them. By scolding them. Telling them off when they’re being outrageous. By standing by them. Because we know even a little bit of time with them is better than a life without them.”

Mrs. Hendricks then stands up, “It’s nearly 2 sweetie. Why don’t you take Jeanine’s old room? He’ll be there when you wake up.”

You shake your head vehemently, “No. Thank you Mrs. Hendricks. Thank you very much for your hospitality. But I want to be here when he wakes. I just… I don’t want to leave him here alone.”

She softly smiles, a tear slipping by, “Alright sweetie. That’s fine. I’ll bring you a couple blankets then. And a pillow just in case. Feel free to walk around the house if you need. Kitchen is all yours.”

You’re not sure how long you stayed awake after the gifts of the blankets were delivered. But you never laid down. You sat on one of the chairs placed on the dining room table where Alfie laid. You brushed the hair out of his face and ran your fingers over his beard and scars. You rattled off the notes you had for the gaming club. You whispered to him about the set up, the prices, and how he should really be more affable with the customers. But mostly you whispered how much you loved him. How much you wished you had told him sooner. How much he scared you doing that. You chastised him for putting himself in such grave danger. And for every insult and admonishment you kissed a knuckle and scar. Every kiss an oath that you would not leave him. Not willingly. Not before death.

It was mid morning when Alfie’s gruff voice woke you, “Well ain’t you a picture.”

You gasped and sat up straight, hand clutching Alfie’s warm hand. His hand squeezed back tiredly, “Now I know I’m damned… but this sure don’t look like hell… too nice ain’t it. And I know the devil wouldn’t let an angel like you in hell with me.”

“Oh shut up you wretched old man please.”

You crashed your lips into his, relishing even in his slightly chapped lips as he chuckled into you. You feel him move under you, “Now now sweetheart easy on the old man. Don’t go popping my stitches now. Oh treacle why are you crying my dove? I’m here ain’t I? Old Alfie’s alright.”

You couldn’t help the tears falling, “I… Alfie I… you nearly died.”

He sneered, “Nah. The bastard barely nicked me. What about you eh? No bumps or bruises on you?”

You shook your head and sniffled. You knew you looked pathetic but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Alfie was alive. Not when you got to see him in the morning light like this. Alfie groaned as he pushed himself off the table. You moved to help him as he motioned you to settle. He got up, limped to another chair to sit down. The stitches held and he looked good. Still a bit pale but good. “Do you need water Alfie? Tea? I can call for breakfast.”

He shook his head, “No not yet love thank you… but come here.”

The wood floors were cold on your bare feet as you softly walked over to him. He stared up at you, as he tugged on your nightgown, signaling you to sit. Carefully… oh so carefully you sat on his lap, legs swinging over the side, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alfie leaned back with a sigh, bringing you closer, “This is all I need treacle. Just need you near.”

Stroking the scar on his jaw you whispered, “I was so scared Alfie… I thought we’d lost you.”

With half lidded eyes Alfie stared at you. Your sweet lips and teary eyes. A picture of beauty and serenity. The rough callouses on his hands caressed up and down your bare arms, “You’re never going to lose me dearie. I’ll always be here. No matter what. You know why?”

The way his eyes become like fire makes your heart beat faster, “Why?”

He brings your hand to his heart. His own hand dwarfing yours as you feel the strong and steady heartbeat in his chest, “Because this sweetheart… this belongs to you… No matter what happens… in this life the next one and every other fuckin one… I belong to you. You ain’t ever got to worry about what might happen because I’m with you. You got it?”

You smile, nodding, feeling as though your heart is going to burst, “My heart belongs to you Alfie.”

“You don’t have to say it back treacle.”

“I do if it’s the truth.”

A blush rose in his cheeks, barely concealed by his beard and the smile that broke out on his face. “Well… treacle… if that’s the case… I wanted to ask you in a more romantic way…”

“Alfred Solomons…”

“But this seems like a good time…”

“I swear if you dare ask me…”

“And we never know what’s to happen next…”

“Alfred Solomons I am in a night gown!”

“Woman if you do not be quiet I am trying to ask you to be my wife!!”

Your hand flies to your mouth in utter shock. Alfie’s brows are furrowed but he’s trying to keep the smile off his face, “Marry me sweetheart. Be my wife please. I can’t promise that I’ll suddenly be a tame boy but I can promise you that I love you more than any other man ever could love a woman. You can scold me all you want and I’ll never be cross with you.”

He watches you bite your lip and think, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven for real this time. You cheekily smile, “I do like it when you’re cross though.”

A dark glint flashes in his eyes as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, which you all too willingly return. When you come up for air he asks you again, “Is that a yes? You going to be my wife?”

You laugh, “Yes Alfie. Always yes.”

Laughs escaped out of you in a stampede as he presses a million prickly kisses to your cheeks. He mumbles out onto your face, "I need to get you a ring. We'll go to the shop yeah? You pick out any ring you like, I'll resize whatever I need to. Fuck we'll design it for ya yeah?"

You push him back from his assault on your face and hold up your left hand, The one holding his signet, "One could say I have one already. You dropped it on the way over."

Alfie grabbed your wrist to inspect your hand. When he finally recognized the ring and noticed his own was missing, his laughter roared out, "Fuck me you are always so prepared. Always two steps ahead of me ain't ya? Well alright treacle. There's your engagement ring for now. But on our wedding day, I'm giving you a dazzling rock you hear me?"

You laugh again as he rants and raves for his idea of a ring for you. Knowing inside that it didn't matter what he gave you. If he gave you a ring at all. All that mattered was that he was here. He was yours. And you are is.

6 Months Later

The slow sea air dances in through the open window, sending the gossamer curtains floating around you. The radio scratches out something slow and tantalizing from America, the notes sending shivers down your spine. You're dizzy from the night you've had. The butterflies and bubbly drinks and spinning along the floor. You can't believe it happened. You can't believe your wedding day arrived. You feel as though you're amongst the clouds. The only thing keeping you anchored to the Earth is Alfie's grip on your white satin slip as you sway against him to the music.

Late at night. Early morning. Too much work to tell. But it was the first time in a week that you've been able to be alone with Alfie. Your husband.

"What're you thinking about my love?"

You press your face against his chest, shirt long discarded, "I'm just so happy. I didn't think I'd have this. That we'd have this.'

He hums as he presses his lips to your hair, smelling the perfume that had been brushed through your hair. "But we have it now. This is the greatest gift I've ever received. This is the life I've always dreamed of sweet."

You continue to dance with your husband until your bodies couldn't take it anymore. Soon enough he carried you to bed, quickly drifting off into deep sleep in Alfie's arms. In the morning you would wake not as a secretary. Not as a scared girl. Not as someone who felt as she didn't belong. But as Alfie's wife. Alfie's partner. A confidant. A capable woman running a business alongside her best friend. Tomorrow you would wake up excited for this next part of your life. Waking up to a new beginning.

Tag List:

@jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee , @galactict3a , @il0vebeingdelulu @enretrogue @j23r23 @mulletmcghee @afuckingdisasterreally @graceisinloveagain

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | May 27th-June 2nd 2024

That finale sure was... something.... Can't wait for all the fix-it fics we're gonna get over the summer!!

Complete

the same damn thing that made my heart surrender by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Crack, Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Ever since that barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s last weekend I’ve been getting the weirdest targeted ads on my Insta,” he pouts, scrolling some more. On the screen is an ad for… a pale blue babydoll tee with the word BRAT screenprinted across the chest in curly pink letters. or, buck’s instagram algorithm is plaguing him with salacious clothing ads and eddie can’t be held responsible for playing Beefcake Barbie dress-up in his head about it

seeing you with him just don't feel right (you're giving me a heart attack) by bellabrady (Post-S7, Crack | 1,9K | Not Rated): Or: Buck and Eddie accidentally give their homophobic captain a heart attack.

stained by my mistakes by Tizniz/@tizniz (BTHB: Accidental Murder | 2K | General): Like an overslept mistake or killed a dude mistake? Under any other circumstances, Eddie would probably laugh at his best friend’s reply. But he’s not laughing. Not right now. He swallows the lump in his throat and stumbles over his reply. …the second option.

Everything you lose is a step you take by justhockey (Getting Together, Post-Lightning | 2K | General): For a while, when Buck would find himself about to float - about to slip into that space where he couldn’t believe he was still here, still breathing - he would need something to keep him steady. To keep both feet firmly planted on the ground. That’s how all of it started. Because it had been instinct, like it always has been with them, for Buck to reach for Eddie that very first time he felt like he was floating. And Eddie, like he always does, reached back. Through fire and trauma, under fire trucks, across blood-soaked asphalt - Buck and Eddie always reach for each other. It’s what they do. It’s who they are. They reach, and hold on, and they pull each other to safety.

that's the way love goes by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (BuckTommy Break-up, Buddie Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Tommy thinks Buck and Eddie used to date and never really got over each other... he is very tired and confused. But it makes some feeling realizations come to light and a pair of idiots to see what they've been missing all along, so it's all good.

Sweet as Sugar by Tizniz/ @tizniz (BTHB: Chronic Illness | 8K | General): “There’s still something wrong with me.” “I don’t like that phrasing, but your labs did come back positive for something, yes.” Buck swallows, rubs his hands down his thighs, “Okay. What?” “Evan, you’re diabetic.”

What’s Your Order? by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S7E5, BuckTommy | 18K | Teen): 5 Times Buck Guessed Tommy’s Coffee Order + 1 Time He Didn’t Have To

🔥 a place we both know by not1_2write (A/B/O AU, Not A Firefighter!Buck | 42K | Mature): This whole thing is Bobby's fault. He's the one that suggested Eddie apply for the mate matching service, it was his idea to look for an Omega that would love and care for Christopher, to find a mate to be by Eddie's side. Eddie's gonna have to send him a fruit basket or something. It was the greatest idea Bobby's ever had and because of it they now they have Buck in their lives, in their pack and firmly nestled right in Eddie's heart.

WIP

🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 7/10 | 55K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

🔥 like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Fix-It | 2/7 | 6K | Mature): If you’d asked Eddie back in May what rock bottom looked like, it was his son leaving him. That felt like it; everything ruined so entirely that there was no way to ruin it further. There’s always more to lose.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 128/? | 401K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 3/22 | 14K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

Podfic

🔥 [Podfic] Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Cowboy AU, Reincarnation, Soulmates | 10-15h | Explicit): In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.