#i know i know 'tommy used to grind but got his things taken'

[sinsofsummers]

sensational; part ii

6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational

summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)

You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.

Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.

He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.

Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:

Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.

It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.

You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.

It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.

"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.

This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.

No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.

But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.

"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.

Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.

So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.

Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.

"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"

The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.

It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.

Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."

You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.

—

Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.

After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.

The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.

It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.

It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.

With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.

For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.

In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?

But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.

Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?

—

"How'd you sleep?"

When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.

It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.

Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.

If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.

With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.

Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.

You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.

His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.

"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.

You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."

Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.

Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"

The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.

You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."

There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.

You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.

"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"

You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"

There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."

You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"

It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."

You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.

Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."

You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.

"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"

A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."

It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"

You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.

Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.

You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"

His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."

The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.

—

This was the worst possible outcome.

Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.

Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."

He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.

You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.

"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.

Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."

You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.

When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.

"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.

With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.

Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.

He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.

A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."

Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"

His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."

The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."

His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.

"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."

—

Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...

You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.

There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.

He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.

But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.

After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.

Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.

You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.

You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"

He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.

He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.

Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"

You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."

Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."

The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."

"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.

You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."

When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

You nodded. "Show me? Please?"

Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"

You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"

"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."

An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."

Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.

"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.

He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."

It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.

Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."

So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?

Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."

—

Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.

Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.

—

Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.

Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.

You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.

Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."

"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.

His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"

You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.

Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."

His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."

"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"

He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."

You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"

He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"

You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.

Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."

It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.

"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."

You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"

"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.

"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.

"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.

Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.

One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."

He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."

You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.

"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.

It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."

"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."

He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"

"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.

Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"

Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."

It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."

With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.

The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."

A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."

Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.

"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."

You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.

"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."

"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."

You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."

tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!

[roping-riding-wrangling]

Bennie and the Jets

“Y/n” he says with that tone. The same tone he used to tell you that your family dog Tammy had been hit by a car. The same tone he used when your mother died.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

He pulls you to sit with him on the plastic chairs. 

“I got a call from the police. Benny, he…he was found dead this morning”

Your hand flies to your face. Your dad’s hand rubs comforting circles on your back as you try to catch your breath. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten 

Over and over you count to ten until you find your voice again, “What happened?”

Previous Part

summary: Y/n's day goes from bad to worse as she suffers caffeine withdrawals, finds out her boss is dead, and almost gets into a car accident.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Newby!reader, death, mentions of suicide, brief mention of dead dog, swearing, ANGST, reader ignoring her emotions™

Sleep has a firm grip on you in the early morning. After last night, you got home to find your dad already asleep. You hadn’t taken your uniform off before you crashed onto your bed. You dreamt of milkshakes and volleyballs and little girls with tattoos. The alarm wakes you violently, and violently you react. You smash the thing until it stops beeping, groaning when you hear it five minutes later. You shoot up and rip the chord from the wall, effectively silencing the machine. Already up, you figure that you might as well get ready for the day.

You go to make your pot of coffee, reaching for the jar where you keep the grinds. “Fuck” you softly whisper. In the chaos of yesterday, you forgot to get more coffee. You glance at your watch.

Fuck. 

There's not enough time to run to the store to get more coffee before practice. You leave a note for your dad and grab the last can of coke from the fridge, hoping it gives you enough energy to make it through the day.

The ride to school is quiet. The sun hasn’t quite risen, casting the town of Hawkins in an eerie gray light. The leaves are just starting to fall, some of them already barren. The heat in your truck hasn’t worked since last year and you can see your breath as you drive. The cold this morning is extra bitter. Sleep lingers in your eyes as you make the winding drive, forgoing the cassette to listen to the radio. You park as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. Standing outside your car, you let the light wash over your closed eyes for a minute, taking in the stillness. 

You’ve always preferred sunrises to sunsets. There’s something about the world coming out of darkness that calls to you. Everything is a little less hopeless in the daylight.

You feel someone’s eyes on you. Your gaze darts across the parking lot before landing on none other than Steve Harrington. He stares at you from a few cars down quizzically. You’re too tired to dignify his staring in any meaningful way, offering the smallest tilt of your lip in acknowledgement. You turn back to the sun, ignoring the way he continues to stare at you. 

You let yourself enjoy the last few seconds of sunrise before you go inside. 

––––

It turns out the coke was not enough to get you through the day. It’s fourth period when you feel your eyelids drooping. The pre-calc lesson is not nearly intriguing enough to warrant you staying awake. You’re roused from your almost-slumber by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Carol, a folded paper in her hand, gestures for you to pass the note to Hannah, who sits in front of you. The paper moves along, and for a minute you wonder if Carol even knows your name. 

She’s part of the popular crowd and you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter what she thinks of you. Then the thought hits you: does she even think of you at all. Do any of the popular kids even think about anyone but themselves? Are they so wrapped up in their own bubble that they can even perceive their peers?

As it turns out, normal kids can be perceived by the holier-than-thou popular kids. Next to your locker, Carol congregates with Tommy, Steve, and Nancy, who has seemingly joined their crew through her connection to Steve. It's hard not to overhear them as they gossip about Jonathan Byers.

The parking lot incident had long since been forgotten as you listen to Steve and Tommy joke about Will.

“I bet he killed him”

Their crude speculation brings a scowl to your face. How dare they speak about Jonathan like that when he’s clearly trying to find his brother. Anger pools in your stomach and you pull out your books faster, eager to avoid listening to this bullshit. Suddenly Nancy’s gentle voice pipes up, “Should we say something?”

You’re suddenly grateful that you’re facing your locker, as you’re sure the shock from hearing her defend him is written all over your face. You peak over your shoulder to see her approach Jonathan. You can’t hear the short discussion, but Jonathan purses his lips and nods at her. She walks back and you and Jonathan make eye contact. 

It’s heartbreaking how terrible he looks. He’s even more disheveled than normal, hair unbrushed, eyes puffy and sunken in. You give him a small nod and a look that you hope he reads as “I’m sorry and good luck”

He leaves. 

–––

Fifth period is just as brutal as the last. You had just nodded off for the third time when the secretary opens the classroom door. All eyes turn to her as she calls for you to join her in the hallway. 

The walk to the office is silent as you run through every scenario of why you would possibly be called up. The secretary opens the door for you to see your dad waiting for you. 

“Y/n” he says with that tone. The same tone he used to tell you that your family dog Tammy had been hit by a car. The same tone he used when your mother died.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

He pulls you to sit with him on the plastic chairs. 

“I got a call from the police. Benny, he…he was found dead this morning”

Your hand flies to your face. Your dad’s hand rubs comforting circles on your back as you try to catch your breath. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten 

Over and over you count to ten until you find your voice again, “what happened?”

“Buddy, I don’t think-”

“Dad, what happened”

“He shot himself”

“Oh”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten 

One, two, three, fo–

“Buddy, the police want to talk to you, ask you a couple questions about Benny. I’m gonna take you down to the station. When we’re done we can go home.”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten 

“Ok”

You walk to your locker to collect your things in a daze. It continues all the way to the station and your dad has to stop you from walking into a wall. If you weren’t in such a state of shock, you probably would’ve laughed. 

An officer whose name you immediately forget takes down your information and you lose count of how many sets of ten you’ve collected. Finally, Chief Hopper sits in front of you and introduces himself. 

“Jim Hopper”

“Y/n Newby”

“y/n, you were the last person to see Benny. Did you notice anything odd about his behavior?”

“Um, no he seemed fine–normal. But, I wasn’t the last person.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a little kid that broke in last night, a runaway.”

“We heard about the kid, did you get a good look? Did he look like this?”

He produces a missing kid poster, Will’s picture on the front. The nausea returns to your body.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

“No, uh, that's Will Byers. I know Will and I didn’t recognize this kid. We called social services. They were supposed to come this morning.”

“So there’s a chance this kid’s running around too?”

The thought of the little girl from yesterday being on her own again terrifies you. You count two more sets of ten before another officer pipes up, clearly not reading the room, “Huh chief, what’re the chances of two missing kid cases in the same 24 hours–in Hawkins!”

You see a spark of connection flash on the chief’s face, a look you can understand. You’re pretty sure you’ve connected the same dots he has: Will, the little girl, and Benny’s death are all intertwined. 

–––

The bedroom feels tiny yet giant all at once. The popcorn ceiling seems to dance in front of you–probably because you’ve been staring at it for the past few hours. No matter how you try and put the pieces together, none of them fit. Any way you looked at it, it didn’t make sense. The big question underlying everything was Why? 

After what felt like another hour of staring at the ceiling, you had a horrible realization. You never got the coffee. Laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably. You trap the laughter behind your hands, horrified at the humor of the situation–and at yourself for getting lost in it. God, what a mess this whole day has turned out to be. 

Turning over, your clock displays the time– 4:52 pm. Your dad is still at work. He had stayed with you for an hour before going back, letting you know he’d be back later than normal. He had to be at the store to meet with someone or receive a shipment or something–honestly, you weren’t really listening. You didn’t protest, just gave him a hug and told him you were fine. 

You grab your bag and head outside but your truck is nowhere to be found. That's right, you remember, dad drove you home, which means your truck is still at the high school. As you contemplate how long the walk to the school is going to take, Mrs. Henderson leaves her door, calling out your name before walking over, a sad smile on her face. Clearly, news travels fast.

“Oh, Y/n, I was just coming over to check on you. How’re you holding up? Your dad told me what happened.”

You glance down at your converse and shift from foot to foot. “Um I’m ok, all things considered. I was about to head to the store.”

“Why don’t you let me drive you? I’ve been meaning to pick up a few things too,” she’s clearly trying to be subtle but you doubt she’s going to let you go alone.

“Uh sure,” you answer, not wanting to be rude.

Sitting in her car isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it’d be. Mrs. Henderson pointedly doesn’t ask about Benny, but does make small talk. 

“How’s volleyball going? Your dad was telling me you made varsity this year? Congratulations!”

“Oh yeah, its pretty good. Coach has us doing morning practices every other day. Getting ready for the first game in a few weeks.”

“Ooh are you excited? It must be nerve wracking to be so close to game day”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess, but I’m not that worried. Our first game is against Cuark High, and they're not that intimidating.”

Mrs Henderson hummed in acknowledgement. The radio played a beach boys song so softly the words were incomprehensible. She tended to listen to older music, you noticed. Soft tunes that crooned of love and hope were always the soundtrack of the Henderson home. You appreciated the way Ms. Henderson emphasized comfort throughout her life. 

When the Hendersons first moved in next to you, your father had insisted that you offer your help. After a full day of unloading furniture and unpacking boxes, Mrs. Henderson had cooked you a hearty meal. Dustin was just 9 years old and had stared at you with wide eyes as you ate. As you helped Mrs. Henderson clean the dishes, she’d told you that if you ever needed a woman to talk to, she was just a short walk away. 

The woman rambles gently about some mischief her cat got up to while you stare at the radio. It's a horrifyingly familiar piano riff. If there was ever a song you didn’t want to hear, it's this. Elton John’s unintelligible singing continues as it draws nearer to the chorus. You try to will the radio to combust as your hands ball into tighter and tighter fists. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Over and over you count until all you can focus on is the song in your ears and the numbers in your head.

“...Y/n? What's wrong?” Ms. Henderson's voice cuts through the ringing of ears and the song, which seems impossibly loud. 

“B-B-B-Bennie and the jets” Elton John's voice sings emphatically.

“Oh god!” Ms Henderson exclaims, quickly switching off the radio, “I’m so sorry sweetie, I didn’t even hear the song playing.”

The silence from the radio is welcome, but the ringing in your ears remains. 

As you pulled into the parking lot, you came out of your daze. 

“Y/n, sweetie, would you mind grabbing a cart?”

You silently grabbed a shopping cart from the line up, falling into step with her. 

“What's on your list?” Mrs. Henderson asked, pulling out a written list from her bag. 

“Uh, just coffee”

“Oh, thats it?” You shrugged. Your father had never been the shopping list type, preferring to just pick up whatever he needed on the way home. It was a trait you’d picked up as well. 

“Well, we can get that first then we’ll tackle my list.”

You trailed behind your neighbor with the cart, occasionally throwing in groceries that looked interesting or you figured you’d be running out of soon. A pack of coke, a bag of chips, and a carton of eggs soon joined your coffee grinds in the cart, surrounded by Mrs. Henderson’s haul. 

It was dark by the time you got out of the store, and you pulled your sweater arms up on your hands to protect them from the chilly air.

Her car warms you up quickly and you are reminded of your own car, “Mrs. Henderson,” you begin, “could you stop by the high school? My truck is still parked there.”

“Of course sweetie, don’t want you walking so early in the morning tomorrow!”

The drive to the school is fairly quiet until a thought pops into your head, “How’s Dustin holding up with the whole Will thing?”

A sad look crosses Mrs. Henderson’s face, “Honestly, I don’t know. He seems to be perfectly unaffected. I don’t know if he’s really optimistic or just putting on a brave face…he’s always been a resilient kid, but I can’t imagine how it’ll affect him if Will…” she shakes the worried look off her face, “I hope they find him soon.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She pulls her car next to yours and turns to face you. “Y/n, I know that you probably don’t want to talk about Benny right now. But I want you to know I’m here for you. If you need a shoulder, or another girls’ night, I’m just a walk away.”

“Oh,” you aren’t sure how to respond, “Thank you…I’ll keep that in mind.”

She pursed her lips, an emotion crossing her face that you couldn’t quite read.

“Anyways, thanks for the ride…it was nice. And make sure Dustin helps you carry in the groceries. I know you’ll probably try and make it in one trip.”

“Dustin’s actually at the Wheelers tonight, though he should be getting soon I suppose.” she replies, seemingly realizing the time

Driving your truck home, you immediately missed the warmth that Mrs. Henderson’s car offered. Alone with your thoughts, your mind began to wander as you drove. Considering all the odd things going on in town, you tried to piece them all together. Maybe Eleven and Will met and were on the run together, but why would Will run away? And on that note, Why had Eleven run? Did social services ever pick her up? How long after they showed up did Benny shoot himself? Did he even wait for it? Did Eleven have to witness it? 

You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t see the other car parked on the side of the road. You have to use your whole body to turn the wheel enough to avoid hitting the car. Huh. It looks slightly familiar. Then it hits you. This is Jonathan’s car. You pull in front of it, hopping out the truck. Looking around, you see the caution tape and a pit grows in your stomach. 

“Jonathan!” you call out, trying no to let your voice quiver. “Jonathan! Where are you?”

Silence. 

You take a deep breath before breaching the treeline, still yelling his name. The empty branches shine silver in the moonlight. Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you carefully step through the woods. You stop for a minute to listen for any sort of response before continuing the trek. 

“Y/n?”

You whip around, Jonathan standing behind you, camera in hand

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here?” 

He stumbled over his words for a few seconds before clearing his throat, “I was trying to find evidence”

“Evidence of what?”

“I don't know, whatever I could find.”

“Jesus christ. Well, did you find anything?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah me too…I heard about Benny.”

You purse your lips and look away. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. 

“Are you cold?” Jonathan asks, already tugging off his coat.

“Oh I’m fine, besides, now you’re gonna be cold” you shake your head in protest as he tries to hand you the coat. 

“I’ll be fine, besides I run hot.”

You hum in consideration. You are really cold and his jacket looks really warm compared to your hoodie. 

“Thanks”

You warm up almost instantly, pulling the coat further around yourself. 

You walk back to your cars in solemn silence. 

“Jonathan,” you say as you reach the edge of the woods, “I am really sorry about Will. He’s a good kid.”

Jonathan turns to you, eyes shining in the moonlight. He lets out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah he is…I need him to be okay.”

“He will be.” you rest a comforting hand on his shoulder and the boy surprises you with a bear hug. You hear him sniffle into your shoulder. 

It's a weird sensation, all in all, as Jonathan holds onto you. You’re not quite sure where to put your hands, and you struggle to support the sudden weight. 

“It’ll be ok, you’re ok”  you whisper to him, comforting him in his crisis. 

His breathing evens out and he steps away, pink faced. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay, Jonathan. Sometimes you just need to let it out.”

He chuckles wetly, wiping his face. 

“See you at school tomorrow.”

You wave from your window, “See ya!”

Next Chapter

Tags:

@ucannotcompare

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Predator and Prey: Chapter Three

Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Swearing, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol & Drugs, I think that’s it?

Summary: You and Tommy open up to one another about your difficult pasts.

- Chapter Two Here -

—————————-

The police had come and gone and they weren’t able to find anyone in your house. They’d checked the window latch which worked fine and said you must have opened the window to let in some fresh air and forgotten to close this, and the intruder must have taken what they wanted and left.

Regardless, you still didn’t feel safe, nothing was missing and you pretty much never opened the windows in the winter months, you were not a fan of the cold, and you couldn’t understand why Jet hadn’t scared them away. After all he was a big Alsatian and looked scary to anyone who didn’t know him as the goofball he actually was.

You didn’t sleep that night, instead you held up in the living room with Jet and watched reruns of The Office in the hopes of lightening your mood.

By morning you were exhausted, but you got up and left for work like any other morning, and made a mental note to buy some security cameras next time you went to the tech store.

The next few days passed uneventfully, and despite the discomfort you now felt in your own home, you were looking forward to your coffee date with Tommy.

Saturday morning arrived and you got dressed in your favourite jeans and oversized sweater, and gave Jet a big fuss before leaving. You made sure to double check that you had locked the door and windows before leaving, something you never second guessed before this week, and made your way to the local Cafe, the Toasted Bean.

Tommy waited for you outside, and quickly stubbed out his cigarette when he noticed you walking up to him.

“Sorry.” He mumbled with a sheepish grin, grinding his heel into the cigarette to make sure it was out, and held the door open for you to go in.

Once you had ordered drinks, you both sat near the window. You spoke about light hearted subjects for the first hour or so, only getting up to replace your drinks, and found it easy to be in each others presence.

“So…. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable, but, do you mind me asking what you went to prison for?” You asked, smiling gently and not wanting Tommy to think it was a dealbreaker. He had said it was nothing too terrible anyway.

Tommy grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, before looking you in the eye and sighing.

“I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to think I’m a bad guy or anything.” He looked a little sad, before continuing. “But I guess if you don’t hear it from me you’ll hear it from someone else, so here goes…”

Tommy told you the story of how he robbed a woman at gun point when he was desperate for money, having been in a dark place and too proud to ask his father or brother, he felt he had no other choice. He told you detail by detail how it had gone wrong, the woman had recognised him as Hank Cahills son and the police were called. He had never intended on using the gun and it wasn’t actually loaded, but the whole thing looked extremely bad and he was sentenced to 3 years. He told you how he had apologised to the woman when he got out and how she was thankful, and Tommy said he could never bring himself to do something like that ever again.

You believed him and gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand gently.

“I don’t think that makes you a bad guy.” You said. “I just think everyone has at least one shitty point in their lives when they do something totally out of character, and it seems that was yours.”

Tommy smiled and squeezed your hand back.

“What about you, I’ve been meaning to ask what your life was like before you left New York?” He asked, not realising he’d touched on a sensitive subject.

You took a sharp intake of breath and slowly pulled your hand out of his before putting your hands in your lap.

“Well, I guess since you’ve told me yours I better tell you mine.” You laughed awkwardly.

You then told Tommy how you had been living in and working in New York after college and you had met Jason when you’d gone out for drinks with some colleagues.

He had seemed charming at first, and you’d started dating, eventually moving in together and getting your dog Jet as a puppy. The first 3 years were idillic, and Jason was charismatic, kind, fun and everything you could have asked for.

Everything changed suddenly one night when Jason went to a rave with his friends, having taken some unknown drugs, something in him changed and he was never the same after that night.

Jason started waking up in a frenzy most nights, pacing up and down the hallway muttering to himself. Once you had made the mistake of trying to wake him from his crazed sleep walking, only for him to pin you against the wall by your throat, muttering “He’s coming, he’s coming for us.”

You had been terrified, and when you’d confronted him about it the next day, he didn’t remember a thing and called you crazy.

The nights were bad but eventually the days became even worse, with Jason’s temper getting the best of him. He’d began accusing you of bringing men home in the night, and having secret relationships in the apartment under his nose, and that you’d sent men after him to assassinate him so you could move on with your life. He’d started smashing plates against walls, kicking furniture across the room, and the straw that broke the camels back was when he started hitting you.

You’d called it quits, and you were quite tearful despite how afraid you now were of him, because you had had the best 3 years with him before that awful night, but this was not the life you signed up for.

You moved into a new apartment with Jet and tried to move on, but the problem was that all of your friends were originally Jason’s friends to begin with, and their loyalties lay with him. Jason had told everyone that the reason you’d ended things was because you were cheating on him with someone else, and his friends believed him over your “far fetched” story.

Jason had asked your friends to keep tabs on you, and at first you couldn’t understand how he’d kept turning up to the same events and bars as you, just lurking in the corners of rooms with a dark look in his eyes, but eventually you’d clocked on that your friends had been involved.

You decided to withdraw from social engagements altogether, and saved every dime you had instead. You were good at saving and already had a rather decent sum, although you had no idea what you planned to do with it.

One night while you and Jet were curled up on the sofa in your new apartment watching a movie, there was a knock on your door.

You had ordered pizza that night so assumed it was the delivery boy, and got money from your purse before walking to the door. You didn’t think to check before opening it, and were met with Jason leaning against your door frame with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Jason! How did you know were to find me?” You stuttered out, surprised, stumbling backwards. Big mistake.

Jason pushed his way into your apartment and closed the door behind him, blocking the exit. He didn’t answer, but you’d assumed one of your mutual friends had given him your new address.

Jason looked deranged, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead, his unfaltering grin and his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I’m gonna need you to leave.” You stated coldly.

Jet jumped off the sofa and went to greet Jason with a wag in his tail, you stopped him before he got too close. “Jet, no boy. Go lay down.” You instructed. Jet obeyed and slunk off with a huff to the sofa, laying down with puppy dog eyes, upset he didn’t get to say hello.

“See how much he misses me, (Y/N)?” Jason finally spoke. “I think it’s time you came home.”

You laughed a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head.

“You can’t be serious. After everything? No, Jason, you need to leave or I’ll have to call the cops.” You said, grabbing your phone from the kitchen counter top.

Before you could dial anything, Jason pulled his hand out of his pocket revealing a long, thin knife, one typically used to fillet beef. He must have had to poke a hole in his pocket to fit it in there.

The air left your lungs as all rational thinking stopped. You froze in the spot, unsure of what to do.

“You honestly think I’m just going to let you go huh? So that you can move on with someone else? You’ve wasted 3 fucking years of my life, (Y/N)!” He shouted, an angry expression replacing the grin.

“He’s finally here, (Y/N), he’s come for us and he won’t take me without you. If you don’t come willingly, well…. He didn’t say he needed you alive.” He laughed sinisterly.

This was all a game to Jason now, he didn’t actually care about you, he just wanted revenge or to feed whatever messed up hallucinations he was having.

“Who has come for us, Jason? Are you in trouble with someone? Do you owe money? I can give you the money you need!” You spluttered, your mind racing for any way to get out of this situation. You knew if you went with him you would never leave, so that was absolutely not an option.

Jason laughed and gripped the sides of his head as if trying to stop it from falling off, and looked at you with an exasperated expression, the knife precariously close to his eye.

“You just don’t get it do you? You never did! This is the problem with people like you, (Y/N), you scum of the earth ruin all things good for people like me!” He shouted, pointing the knife at you like an appendage, spit flying out of his mouth.

At this point you were shaking, the man in front of you was not rational, nothing you could say would bring him off the edge, and you knew he was on the brink of snapping.

You looked right out of the corner of your eye, mentally calculating if you could make the short distance to the couch to grab Jet and sprint to the bathroom. It seemed unlikely, Jason was too close to you, but you refused to go anywhere without your dog, as you had no idea just how far this man would go to get to you.

You spied a heavy vase on your kitchen island, and without a second thought you grabbed it and launched it at Jason’s head.

It landed with a heavy crashing noise and you took the opportunity. You turned on your heel and sprinted towards the couch.

Jason dizzily gripped his head, blood dripping onto his hands. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision.

You grabbed Jet with all of your strength, thinking it quicker to scoop the large dog into your arms than to take him by the collar. The adrenaline making him feel lighter than he was. Jason had regained his sense of awareness and started to close the short gap, a dead look now cast over him.

You skid into the bathroom, lobbing Jet as carefully as you could inside before swinging around to shut the door, but Jason was too quick, grabbing you by the hair and slamming your head onto the bathrooms tiled floor.

His weight on top of you was too much to shift and now you felt dizzy, trying your best to push the knifed hand away from your neck without much luck. You could feel the blade cutting the skin while Jets barking faded into muffled sounds, you had realised this was it.

You closed your eyes, not wanting your last memory to be of those cold, disturbed eyes you had once loved. You waited for the cold blade to penetrate your windpipe. You waited, and waited, and suddenly the weight on top of you lifted.

Slowly you opened your eyes, and your hearing rushed back, loud and intrusive, with Jets booming barks continuing.

Jason was now slumped over next to you, unconscious. The pizza delivery boy stood over him with a heavy stone paperweight from your coffee table, eyes wide and hands shaking.

The pizza boy waited with you until the police arrived, after they took his statement you thanked him profusely and gave him the biggest tip he had seen in his life.

You gave the police the full run down of how things with Jason had been since that night, and they took him away.

You made a decision that night to pack your things and get the hell out of dodge, not stopping until you found somewhere far enough to settle down.

You finished your story and finally looked up to Tommy, thinking he’d laugh at you and call your story far fetched, but instead he looked wracked with guilt for something he didn’t do. He got out of his chair without another word, walked around to your side and gently grabbed your arm to pull you into a standing position. He looked at you incredulously for a second, before pulling you into a hug.

You were surprised for a moment, but after a few seconds you melted into his warmth. You knew this would be a good thing, Tommy held no malice, something you had to realise not all men had.

——————————

- Chapter Four Here -

[the-firebird69]

Gothic Armada Warhammer cinematic - Google Search

This guy Trump is a huge pain in the ass we need to use him up and get him out of this this is Warhammer 40K it is the cinematic and it is the cinematic that Trump dies in and it's fitting that it's only a cinematic and not a major film or even the TV series it's only one issuance of it. And that's kind of what he is. They were tired of people pumping him up so much is disgusting other people wanted some air time and they're forcing themselves in and this should never have been done this guy is a total disaster for the realm of s. Which is great. Our priests want to get involved these ships are going to start coming out in the next week or two and there's going to be a lot of them there's already about 300 million up or more some say it's a trillion and I believe that a lot of them aren't very huge but they're big but the ones that are out there they're not really covered with that much stone is not true Tommy fought a huge amount of stone up around Saturn and he did lose that to the empire and the empire clad a lot of ships recently about 300 million stone chips of this type the gothic Armada and about 200 million empire ships most of them battle cruisers 5 miles 1 mi and so on. But those 300 million ships pack a punch of about 1.2 trillion classes and they're getting up there and people are not paying attention and Tommy have lost it he knew about it later on not even sure if he knows okay and there are some other things too going on meeting they may have taken the shifts they may have taken them and for some reason he doesn't know about it but this is going to happen real soon they said he's going to find out. Trump is spent and he's evil and he is evil to the Earth and our son he needs out he has spent a while ago and when he started throwing the skulls at the Earth we've had enough of that piece of s*** and nobody wants to see his crap and nobody wants to see him in movies he's terrible he is a horrendous a******. And to deliver in a pretty cool and he comes along and says some dumb s*** so he straightens them out and he says what's the matter with you boy you sound like a week and they straightens out and says a few things here are not that bad but boy that kind of crap person and really there's tons of them that are on the streets of Calcutta tell you what when these idiots come out they rob them blind out there in Calcutta it's good they've got a lot of stuff they've got information they're going after a lot of stashes and caches all over Asia because this idiot hasn't said and he's going to go down and right now he is falling from Grace in Florida literally people are pulling him out of businesses and government positions and they're taking them away he is too hostile to our son he's stuck to him too much and the thing with the letters and he's in there screwing up what he's trying and bja helps with the printer said boy this is this is difficult and he says he can't even get to the thing no he can and it's a team but this guy is the one in the way he says he's going to take you up to Nova Scotia and I think Lily saves you because I helped Billy and Lily escape the bus and she panicked and have you do it at some point in time and they drive the car and see the Monte Carlo and I love it but boy this is tough and that's gross and I now see what you're saying they're grinding them up and they're putting them in the wall and I got to get that all out of here these people need to die we need people down here now there's way too many trumpsters.. and VGA says that so we're going to print

And yeah the above is an emergency

Thor Freya

Olympus

[parasocialpixlriffs]

i would probably be so much more open to anti techno arguments if 'he always comes out on top' wasnt so frequently used because 1 on an emotional level no he doesnt 2 from a game perspective, im sorry he's good at the game and grinds i guess??

[redorich]

Hey what if the Hermits got to see Tommy’s version of war. Someone mentions going to war but it’s the friendly hermit kind of war. Tommy while he seems calm is internally panicking. He grinds just like Techno in the neather. No one sees him for three days and then he grabs a few people on his side and says, “It’s finally done come on- well not totally done but good enough to show.” And he leads them to a far off hidden base with chests of top tier armor, golden apples, over a dozen full stacks of tnt and one full stack of wither skulls. Tommy even shoves a sharpness 3, burning, looting, and unbreaking sword into Grain’s arms while talking battle plans -🐍

The thing is, Impulse thinks, none of this is impressive to him. Well, relatively. Tommy's eyes shine at the elaborate secret base he's built, but he doesn't even have a redstone door. It's just a block in the ground that he mines up and replaces every time he wants to get in and out. There's enchanted netherite armor for everyone, and yeah, the stuff's not easy to get, but Cub has a whole room in his pyramid made of ancient debris. Impulse knows that Iskall has an insane gold farm, so golden apples come cheap. The very specific eleven and one half stacks of TNT are pocket change to Impulse, who regularly steals from Tango’s creeper farm. The damn thing’s so efficient that Tango doesn’t even notice. Impulse himself has a wither skeleton farm so efficient that he sells beacons for dirt cheap.

But here’s the thing.

Tommy doesn’t have a wither skeleton farm. He has no creeper farm, no gold farm, nothing. Every farm he has is small scale, so early game that most of the hermits barely bother with them: a wheat farm, a pit with some cows in it, an afk fish farm. (Tommy doesn’t even know that fish farms are out of fashion, now that 1.16 has nerfed them.)

For Tommy, what he has is the pinnacle of grinding. He’s spent days preparing for war. He comes from a poor server, everyone is aware but is too nice to say. He hoards shulker boxes like they’re 12 bamboo, hides anything he doesn’t want stolen in his ender chest even though he trusts the hermits now. How long has it taken him to accumulate this much? How much time did he spend mining away in the Nether, all alone save for his determination? How many times did he die to a creeper trying to collect its gunpowder? How long has he spent underground, mining away at gold ore?

It scares Impulse. Tommy’s a motivated person, yes, but this level of material preparation? It makes Impulse think that Tommy doesn’t quite understand what the hermits mean by war. Impulse looks at the young man, really looks at him. His coat is even more raggedy, meticulously stitched back together. His body language betrays the exuberance in his voice; the boy is dead on his feet. If Impulse were to remove Tommy’s smiley mask, he knows he’d see deep-set bags under Tommy’s eyes. Impulse thinks that Tommy is so tired he might just let Impulse do it.

Tommy understands war a little too well. He is familiar with it, has personally danced with the devil in a way that few hermits have. Impulse puts his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Tommy,” he says softly, “I don’t think we have the same idea of what war is.”

Tommy tilts his head in silent confusion.

“Don’t get me wrong, this is all very impressive,” Impulse sighs, gesturing to all the accumulated weaponry, “but Hermitcraft doesn’t do war like that. No one’s going to be in danger.”

“But it’s a war?? Danger’s kinda-- it’s kind of a requirement, innit?”

Impulse tries a different tactic. “Remember when you were new here, and you explained to us what a ‘canon death’ is? And how Xisuma told you that you’re always allowed to respawn?”

Tommy nods warily, so Impulse continues. “So if we’re always allowed to respawn, why would we kill each other?”

“Is... Is Hermitcraft war about suffering, then? If you can’t kill your opponent, then you make them suffer while they’re alive, right?”

Impulse is horrified. As soon as he’s done with Tommy, he’s going straight to Zedaph’s base for a hug and possibly booze. What the actual fuck, Tommy is so young! And he genuinely believes that the hermits would... Tommy must have been a child during whatever war he’d seen, participated in! Is he even an adult now? Is he still a kid?

Impulse has been silent for too long; Tommy can sense he’s said something wrong. He doesn’t correct it, though. Xisuma rolled back the server to give him his compass back once, after he died in lava. Xisuma will do it again if Impulse kills him.

“Hermitcraft war isn’t real war, Tommy,” Impulse says softly. “It’s not about hurting other people. It’s about winning. It’s about having fun. We solve our wars through minigames, and PvP matches, and pranks, and IOUs. We’re all friends here.”

“I don’t understand.” Tommy’s reverting back to the quiet, contemplative young man that he was when he first showed up, the man they know now that he is not. Impulse has to stop this before it gets worse.

“We call it war, but it’s just a competition. I appreciate the amount of effort you put into trying to protect us, but we were never in danger.”

The masked young man says nothing, but sits down on the floor heavily. Impulse sits down with him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let me tell you a funny story from the Hermitcraft Civil War of season six...”

It’ll be okay. It has to be.

[stellocchia]

Got some sleep, so now I'm on the Manifold grind!

Stream starting with Jack spending his birthday alone, drinking in his empty hotel is... quite depressing man...

"I don't think I left this room in 80 days" damn, welcome to the world of depression man...

He's wearing the L'Manburg uniform as well. Haven't seen that since Tommy's death

He's gonna tour the smp

He also keeps having "momentary blindness" (the screen going black) and I'm pretty sure he decided it's canon

Jack and Shroud one interaction my beloved <3 ("We're the only one on the server, guess that means we gotta become friends" yes, yes you do)

"It's been quiet without him, you know, Tommy. It's been really quiet. I'll be honest I've actually- there's been very little to do with him gone" man... it really does makes you realize how much Jack was reliant on his semblance of a connection to Tommy (the whole "muse" thing Wilbur mentioned in his own stream seems to apply quite a bit for Jack)

Ooooh, he's talking about the heist that he, Quackity, Tommy, and Tubbo did! Man... remember the cartel? Good old days...

Jack just discovered the remanents of the beetroot cult

And now he's going to the museum. Glad that that museum is getting the attention it deserves

Mood immediately going down upon entering the final control room as it usually is. Though Jack wasn't actually there for that but, you know, he joined just one day after

"I miss that part, I miss L'Manburg. This was a lot easier when we all were friends. And, I mean Dream- I mean, there were enemies, sure, but, I don't know, we fought them together. Everyone feels so distant now" I wish c!Phil heard this when talking about his bs on how people are better off now that L'Manburg is gone...

"This [Manifoldland] was my cut of- cut of the woods. And it was untouched as well until I-" o7

And now he's going over where Tommy was exiled through the Nether, trying to find the point where he was killed

*staring into lava* "I don't think I wanna visit this place. I don't think I wanna look at this one. I think I wanna go back. This isn't really where I wanna be" Jack your trauma is showing

"Since when was Tubbo's house back? Didn't Tommy burn that down? I think? It's what Tubbo told me" One of the times for sure, but wasn't it destroyed the final time by Dream? Do I remember that wrong?

"Let's go to Fundy's place. I have not seen him in FOR-EVER. I don't even know what he did. I don't even remember what he did after L'Manburg" In all fairness, Fundy also probably doesn't remember...

Oh yeah, I forgot that Jack was the one who built Fundy's tower. And now it's blown up... man...

"I don't know if you could tell, but I've been pretty purposeless for the past 80 days"

"I just wish that someone would have logged on" See, that's why I say that it would honestly be beneficial for Jack more than anyone if he and Tommy mended their relationship. He just really desperately needs a friend...

"Everything I care about on this server gets blown up or destroyed or taken advantage of or... or they- it betrays me"

"I know Niki became an anarchist or whatever- at least she's happy. At least she's happy" My rocket duo crumbs for the month...

Also, Jack noticing that Quackity's business offer fell through, though, to be fair, Las Nevadas is also without customers and still unfinished

"I've never done anything for me. Anything at all" That's sort of a stretch of course. I mean, he wasn't trying to kill Tommy for someone else. He didn't take over the Hotel for someone else. But I get why it feels that way to him...

And his new objective is to create a place for himself, that caters solely to himself and where he's the only inhabitant, which will not end well for him because clearly isolation has not worked this far either

"No one came looking for me"

Final thoughts under the cut

I genuinely enjoyed the stream. It feels like he brought up quite a few of the stagnation problems there have been with the server lately and he integrated them well in his own storyline. I do hope that this is gonna go somewhere though. Maybe get integrated with the sort of bigger storyline we got going on? The one revolving around Las Nevadas and Quackity in particular at some point. Because it feels like season 3 so far has just been a bunch of loose threads that never gave us any kind of payoff.

[wasflypaw]

I'm sorry that this brings a lot of negativity, but I just want to discuss a bit.

Since you've been around since the early days, I just wanted to check if there was a cult of personality in the early L'Manburg days. Mainly because I came across this take while editing TV Tropes (the editor claimed to be “correcting” information and added it) and from what they have said, they sound like an apologist for the sad green man.

They also claimed that c!Dream only started cutting off his attachments AFTER the Spirit incident (before Exile).

I want to know your thoughts on this take, because I think I'm about to cry over how stupid this sounds.

Going to rip this apart one second.

This person says L'Manberg was formed on the basis of "making a drug empire" using "materials that Wilbur and Tommy stole or manipulated other SMP members into giving" and oh boy.

1. Wilbur and Tommy stole a few brewing stands and some potions from Tubbo's base, which wasn't Right, but it also.. wasnt as bad as it sounds? The only person they really tried taking blaze rods from was again, Tubbo - but Sapnap took the blaze rods before they could - and then later, Tubbo gave the whole stack of blaze rods willingly to help Wilbur and Tommy. No other SMP members were affected other than Tubbo who chose to join their side. The only people they tried "manipulating into giving items" were Sapnap and Tubbo. Tubbo who later decided to work with them, Sapnap who refused and didnt have any items taken from him. Fundy later joined because he literally said he wanted to brew drugs. Eret decided to help Wilbur and Tommy for fun.

2. "L'Manberg was founded on the basis of creating a drug empire" god is this a tiring take. Yes, there was a "drug van" that held.. normal Minecraft potions. The drugs were a bit. Nobody ever acted high off their ass on drugs. Also L'Manberg was Not the drug empire. The drug empire is the failed thing they attempted before this, and the.. violent reaction to the drug empire sparked the L'Manberg revolution. Sapnap had repeatedly been referred to as the "police" and Wilbur even had Fundy say "fuck 12" and he was called a "pig eating pig". Sapnap killed Tommy, and later Purpled went on a killing spree, killing Fundy, Eret, Wilbur, and tried to kill Tommy and Tubbo. Wilbur's idea of a Safe Independent Nation was a response to the violence, not because he wanted to make drugs. Literally after L'Manberg got its independence I vividly remember Wilbur telling Tommy to stop talking about drugs bc he just wants a Hamilton roleplay lmao. Wilbur and Tommy never tried the drug thing after this, L'Manberg's focus has never been selling or creating drugs.

3. Yes they banned Americans from joining L'Manberg. It was funny. But there's this weird idea that "oh nobody could enter-" they could! People entered L'Manberg all the time, nobody could enforce the whole "keep non-L'Manbergians out" thing. Quackity trespassed on his first day. One time Sapnap threw a tantrum bc Tommy wouldnt kick Fundy out and went into L'Manberg to shoot at the salmon in the river. There's a whole stream with Niki hanging out with Punz, Ponk, Eret and Karl.. on L'Manberg's grounds. L'Manberg had a "no armor, no weapons" rule, so if anyone were to enter L'Manberg they'd take their armor off and keep their weapons away. Surprisingly enough this one was followed.

4. The idea that Dream was "in the right" during the first L'Manberg war. Why does there have to be a "right"? I dont think L'Manberg side was morally great, but that doesnt make Dream the one in the right. Even if it was "his land", even if he had a right to be mad... he focused on Tommy over the person who actually made L'Manberg, he destroyed Tommy's base twice, he burnt down Tubbo's base, he destroyed Tommy's cuck shed, he and his friends stole 10 hours worth of grinded items from Tubbo ONE DAY before the war, and then again stole the items he'd prepared the MORNING of the war. He then appointed a spy and took 4 canon lives. May I bring to attention that he did all this to enemies to repeatedly said theyd fight with words, not weapons, who refused to grief back. Dream was "viewed as a bad guy" because he destroyed things and killed people. He KNEW L'Manberg was harmless, he literally called them "The Land of Pussies" half an hour before declaring war and then burying Tommy and Tubbo in a hole to steal their items for fun. He knew damn well there was no chance of L'Manberg ever winning and he refused to let them have a chance at getting good items. Even if he felt villainised by L'Manberg, the "propaganda" turned nobody against him that didnt already have a bad experience with him, and the rest of the server was FINE with him until he hurt them directly.

5. "He has been known to do good" where

6. Tommy threatening Dream with Spirit is a scene that makes me see Red when people talk about it. Tommy was being humiliated for what was essentially the crime of.. burning a roof and building a netherrack penis. Dream responded by building huge obsidian walls and threatening war, instantaneously taking it too far. Everything was being blamed on Tommy, you could clearly see him panicking, Dream was taunting him, sending him whispers of "enjoy your probation" and ":)", knowing damn well he'll make Tommy snap. Tommy threatened Dream with Spirit to try to get him to take the walls down, to try to get him to stop. He did what Dream had done to him multiple times, use an attachment against him. I hate the idea of "this is the moment Dream gave up his attachments" because it blames everything on Tommy once again. People frame this as a malicious act from Tommy against Dream but it was a scared kid doing a last desperate move to try to get the person who was threatening to build walls up to build height and slaughter anyone outside them who was also trying to exile him from his nation to stop and leave him alone. George's house was an excuse, there has been no rule against messing with the DSMP king, no rules were added or changed. Tommy is not to blame for Dream willingly giving up his attachments, and the Spirit thing was a dumb move at best but never a malicious one done intentionally to hurt Dream. I hate the idea that Tommy "deserved exile" for "not listening" and letting Dream walk all over him and punish him in a severe way for something literally nobody else has been punished for.

[marvelingstardust]

Caught - Pietro/Peter (Wandavision) x Reader

Read part 2 here!

Request -Idk but I had this thought and I think I would be funny but like reader and Peter/Pietro are babysitting Tommy and billy and you put them to bed and things get heated ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and the twins walk in and when Wanda and vision get home they start asking questions and yuh anyways Chile-

A/N: thank you for the request!! 💞💞 this has definitely been one of my favorite request I have gotten so far hehe 🌝 I hope you enjoy!!

TW: making out, slight smut??? lmao idk 😪

——————————————————————

“AUGAH” The sudden yell from your boyfriend was followed by a loud thump onto the floor and giggles coming from the twins that the both of you were baby sitting.

Out of curiosity, you went over to see what was causing all the laughter.

Pietro had tackled Billy and Tommy onto the ground and was aggressively tickling them, while the boys squirmed, trying to break free from his hold on them.

You laughed at the adorable sight before you.

“Don’t worry boys, I will rescue you!” You said as you quickly jumped into action, grabbing ahold of Pietro’s arms, giving the twins time to dart away to the other side of the room.

“You saved us!”

“Aunt (Y/N)’s our hero!”

Peter rolled his eyes, and you smirked at him, before turning your attention towards the twins.

“You’re welcome boys, now how about you both go brush your teeth and then we’ll come tuck you into bed.”

They both nodded, and exited the living room, leaving you and Pietro alone.

Pietro broke out of your hold on him, and he gasped dramatically, flopping down onto the floor into a starfish position, “I can’t believe my own girlfriend would betray me like that!”

“Hmph, Well maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the last slice of pizza yesterday, without even bothering to ask me if I wanted it!”

You moved yourself on top of Pietro so you were somewhat straddling him, crossing your arms against your chest.

“I told you I would go out and buy you a new pizza if you were that hungry!”

“And you would buy it with what money?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought.”

Pietro sighed and moved his hands up to your waist, sliding them up and down slowly.

“Welllll I think I might have a different idea on how to make it up to youuuu” He said wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You chuckled, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“Pietro now is not the ti-“

Pietro sat up and connected your lips together before you could finish your sentence.

You were taken aback for a moment but melted into the kiss quickly, placing your hands onto his chest and pushing him down back onto the ground so you were hovering over him.

He moved his hands under your shirt while you moved your hands up into his hair, giving it a slight tug. He let out a groan at the sensation, grinding his hips up into yours, trying to get some friction where he needed it most.

The both of you were so caught up into each other that you totally forgot about the twins, who had been waiting patiently in their bedrooms for the both of you to say goodnight to them.

Soon enough, their curiosity got the best of them, and they both decided to see what was taking you and Pietro so long.

“Aunt (Y/N) did you forge-“

Billy stopped mid sentence when he saw you and Pietro onto the floor together.

Your eyes widened and you let out a yelp, as you and Pietro both scrambled to get off of each other.

“Ewwww you guys are grosss” Tommy said sticking out his tongue.

Pietro stuck his tongue out back at Tommy. You shook your head at his childish behavior and sighed.

“Why did Uncle Pietro have his hands under your shirt?” Billy asked innocently.

Your eyes widened and you started to panic.

The last thing you thought you would be doing tonight was explaining the birds and the bees to two ten year olds.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard the door from behind you open.

In came Wanda and Vision, both back from their date night.

Oh god oh god oh god.

“Why aren’t the kids in bed yet?” Wanda asked you confused.

Pietro took a sharp inhale, “Wellll sis, here’s the thing-“

“Aunt (Y/N) and Pietro were kissing on the floor!” Tommy yelled, which was followed by Billy yelling, “And he had her hand under her shirt!”

Wanda and Vision looked at the two of you in shock, and you smiled nervously.

“uhhh haha...you know what I think it’s about time we head on home, don’t you think so Pietro?” You said glancing over at him.

“Yep Yep Yep, so long everyone!” He yelled out picking you up bridal style and super speeding the both of you out of the house.

You could only imagine how much trouble you would be in with Wanda tomorrow, but for tonight, all you wanted to do was finish what Pietro and you had started ;)

[hoodieofholland]

request: trying 69 with Tom ?? 🖤

A/n: excuse me, i loved the idea! Really fun to write, i went all the way from fluffy to filthy and fluffy again, lol, anywaysss. It got quite long, hope you like it!

Pairing: boyfriend!tom x female reader

Warnings: smut (minors dni); extended warnings bellow the cut.

Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts on this!!

+warnings: oral (f and m receiving, 69 basically); fingering (f receiving), dirty talk.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Tom grabs the smooth flesh of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, while you keep working your lips over the sensitive spot on his neck, right bellow his ear. You hear a choked groan coming out of his lips.

"Baby-", he bites his lips, almost losing his thoughts when you grind over his crotch. "Baby, can't get marks"

His protests are weak, and you know very well he's pondering between the pleasure you're giving and his commitment with work; Tom had already warned you that he couldn't get any marks on his skin right now, as the shooting for Spider-Man was still going on.

You smile apologetically.

"Sorry, Tommy", you press a tender kiss over the spot and raise your head to look at him. "Just missed you. Been aching to get my mouth on you." You brush your nose against his, closing your eyes as you just feel the proximity between the two of you. "It's been a time."

You and Tom have had a hard time trying to conciliate both schedules, with his filming and your work, and that was the first weekend both of you got some time off to enjoy the company of each other. Obviously, you agreed on skip the movie and cuddles you both used to enjoy the time alone to relieve the need of touching you two had grown since three weeks ago.

"Yeah?", Tom enjoys the sensation of your tenderness, among the sensuality of your hips swirling slowly over his lap. He feels the pure bliss while closing his eyes and bringing his lips to grave over yours, pecking every then and now. "Missed you too, darling. So, so much".

You tease him, hands going down his torso until reached the waistband of his boxers. "Gonna show me?", you smirk, finger lingering around the fabric.

Tom smiles, grabbing you by the waist and in a skilled movement, flipping your positions. Under his toned body, you have to catch your breath, hands sliding down the sides of his torso whilst bringing him closer.

"Wanna feel close to you, baby", he murmurs, eyes focused on yours. "Show you how much I appreciate you", he releases a quiet pleased sigh as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his lower half closer to you. "Just wanna take it slow tonight, y'know".

You smile at his sweetness, though you knew you had other plans running through your mind.

Tom drops his head down to kiss the space between your boobs, his lips tracing a wet path on your skin. You tug your hands on his hair, feeling the soft curls.

You bite your lips, remembering the thoughts you had about something you wanted to try with him just a couple of days ago. It came out from a not so innocent chat you had with one of your closest friends, who asked if you have ever done sixty-nine before. You thought to yourself it wasn't a big deal that you haven't, as you always imagined the position a bit messy and uncomfortable for both of partners, but then she made it pretty clear that your fears were making you lose something you might quite enjoy.

So there were you, thinking how you'd bring it up with Tom, when he was already so close to your core. You squirmed a bit, sucking on your lower lip nervously.

"Tom?" Your voice comes out as a whisper, and Tom doesn't take his mouth away from your skin, lips hovering over your hips as his tongue licked on it. He hums, giving vibrations that tickled you, making you giggle a bit. "Can- uh, can we try something?"

He stops the moves of his tongue, looking up at you, lips pursed in a mischievous smirk. "You wanna try something?", he asks and you nod sheepishly. "And what is it?"

His mouth goes back to work on your skin, but his eyes didn't leave yours. He was working you up, teasing you, and you could feel and arousal between your legs grow with every light bite of his on your belly.

"I was thinking..." you suck in a breath. "I could give you a blowjob..."

"I like the sound of that", he smirks playfully and you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. He laughs. "Go ahead".

"As I was saying", you sigh quietly and readjust your body in bed, propping your elbows on the mattress to lift your back. "I give you a blow, while- well, while you eat me out".

Tom stops on his tracks again, but the mischievous smile wasn't plastered on his face anymore. If anything, he looked surprised, taken aback by the sudden propose.

"You mean, you wanna do the 69?" He asks, sounding baffled, but it quickly changes into an eager manner. "Hell, yes".

You blink a few times and sigh in relieve. You and Tom were always up to new things, and you had promised each other that whenever one of you felt like trying something new, you'd always be open and talk about it. However, it got into your nerves anyways.

Tom made his way back to meet your face, kissing you fervently.

"And what about the go slow thing?" You pant, amused by the way he seemed to change his mind.

"Yeah, yeah, we can have it later", he is quick to dismiss. "Right now, I just wanna a little taste of you".

You nod eagerly, pretty much satisfied with how quick he has agreed with you. Hands tangled in his curls, you watch as he goes down on you again, much faster now, until reaching your panties. Tom taps the sides of your hips, and you lift it to help him get the piece of cloth off.

"Shit, darling" he eyes your glistening center, head dropping to get closer. "Can't wait to put my mouth on this sweet pussy".

Tom doesn't seem to contain himself as he licks a long strip of your heat, making you whimper.

"Not fair", you say while pulling him away from your core. "C'mon, don't get me distracted".

He chuckles before kneeling down on bed, taking his boxers out. "I don't think I could. You look very determined".

When he's fully naked, you give him space to lay on bed, a smirk proudly hanging on his face.

"C'me here, suit yourself" he pats his rigid thighs with both hands, and you can't help but laugh at how comfortable he's with it.

You make your way to sit on his lap, gasping lightly at the contact of his thigh with your exposed pussy.

"Have you ever done this before? You don't look... nervous or anything", you ask timidly, holding on hands Tom gave you for support.

He smiles softly. "Have never. It's just that I'm excited whenever we're trying something different. I like that you trust me enough for this".

You blush and bite your lip to hide a smile.

"Me too, Tommy".

He rubs your hips with affection and look at you in awe. "Good. But now, love, I think you're facing the wrong side".

You roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing a bit. "I know, dork".

You reposition yourself, sitting on Tom's abs, feeling a little nervous while you face his hard cock. It's a beautiful sight, the outlined veins, the red tip almost as a claim for you to give him some sort of satisfaction and you sigh to try to relax your nerves.

Tom holds your hips and help you to adjust, which ends up creating a great friction between his toned abs and your cunt, making you release a low moan.

"Fuck, the view I have right now... You wouldn't believe", he says and you clench around nothing. You can now hear the smirk on his face. "You like it, don't you, darling? Such a dirty girl. Come here, need you a little closer"

You turn your head back to do as you were told and feel the heat on your cheeks once you see the hungry look on Tom's face. "Just like that", he squeezes your butt, giving a light kiss on one cheek. "Is it alright, love?"

You take in a shaky breath and nod.

"Do you wanna me to start?" He asks sweetly, worry in his voice. You can tell he's trying to catch any kind of discomfort in you, if you're still willing to do so. "If you don't want to, we can stop-"

"No", you shake your head firmly. "I want it. Just a bit nervous, I guess".

He gives you a reassurance smile and rubs his thumb over your hips. "It's okay, love. But if you feel like you are not enjoying it, just use the safe-word, alright? I'll stop".

You smile back at him and nod. You shouldn't be nervous. It was Tom, after all, and you always feel so safe and comfortable around him. So you turn your head again, focused on calming your nerves down. Looking at his hard, you realised it was just a matter of doing what you always did - and liked pretty much doing. You lowered your head and licked your lips, giving his tip a light kiss as to tease him a bit.

You feel Tom squirm under you at the minimum contact, his cock twisting in expectation.

"Fuck, y/n", he breaths out, "Shit, it's going to be hard to focus".

You giggle and try to lick a long line from his base to the tip, which made him curse.

"Alright, you wanna play", you could hear the smirk once more and jolted when felt the wetness of his hot tongue flat against your core.

"Fuck, Tom", you moan, hiding your hips back to earn more friction. You loved his tongue, you loved just how he always knew what he was doing with it and how he knew to tease you, making you ask for more.

His tongue invades you, collecting your wetness before pushing in and out of you in a quick and steady pace. It feels firm and thick inside of you and your eyes roll back to the pleasure.

"Thought it was supposed to be both of us at the same time, darling", he teases at your lack of action, sucking on your lips harshly, "Guess it's not just as simple, is it?"

You gasp before snapping yourself back to reality. You wanted to take that smug attitude out of him as much as you wanted to take him on your mouth, so you focus on your work.

Taking his cock on your hand, you pump it a few times before putting a small length on your mouth, opening it wider. Adjusting your jaw, you took what you could get from him, tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck, fuck", he pants, hips jerking up to your mouth. "Perfect mouth, you have. God-"

You smile proudly with he still on your mouth, moaning around him when he kitten licks your clit.

You bob your head up and down, eyes tearing up with the effort, but still pleased as you felt Tom burying his face on your heat, as concentrated to get you off.

In a matter of minutos, both of you were a mess on the bed, pants and moans loud enough to make one another go further, deeper, faster. Your jaw hurt with the intensity of your movements, but you couldn't care less. It was pure bliss, the way your walls clenched around Tom's tongue, and the way the would throb on your mouth, drool rolling down your chin.

You noticed that your thoughts on the new position were right, it wasn't the most comfortable one, and it was certainly messy, as one of you would always end up jerking hips or have your faces covered in each other's arousal. But it was good - none of that mattered, cause it felt good to have Tom on this position, and turned you on to imagine he was doing all of that with your cunt and you couldn't even watch it.

When you felt the pressure building on your belly, you took him out of your mouth, replacing it with your hand. "'M close".

"Yeah?" He shook his head rapidly on your folds, tongue out, and you moaned his name. "Come for me, baby. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue".

You try to focus on his release as the feeling was taking over you. It was hard, but you put your mouth around him again, sucking him off.

"Fuck, darling, gonna come on your mouth", he pants, hips jerking while his fingers entered your hole to stimulate you more. "C'mon, pretty. Yeah, that's it, love, give it to me"

"Tom-"

Your climax hits you in intense waves of pleasure, your toes curling and legs shaking. You moan around Tom, closing your eyes, and you can't control the work of your mouth anymore. In the lack of anything to hold on to, you grip the sheets beneath you.

Tom feels your reaction and it only coax his own climax, shooting his cum in your mouth, with your tongue laid flat against his length, sending vibrations on him. He curses all the way, riding you out of your orgasm with his fingers lazily working inside of you.

With your mouth full of his cum, you release his cock and swallow every drip of him, catching your breath and falling apart on the top of Tom.

His breath is heavy under you, and after a few seconds trying to collect yourself again, you decide it's time to lay down straight. You catch a sight of him collecting your release from his messy face, cleaning his fingers up with his mouth, and if it wasn't for the powerful orgasm you just had, you'd have whined just at the view.

Tom helps you, and your head feel dizzy as you lay beside him. He puts one arm around you, bringing you closer to his chest, and you lay your head there.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing the top of your head. You smile lazily, still taken by the euphoria of your orgasm, and nod. "So... did you like the new position?"

Still smiling, you look up at him, fingers caressing his jaw.

"Loved it" you press a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you".

"Thank you" he smiles tenderly, a contrast from the previous actions and words. "For trusting me. You're amazing, love. And I'm more than happy to be the one you try new things with".

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 2

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Read Part One

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, this chapter talks about Reverend Teagardin/his actions towards the young girls in the story (nothing is described in detail- just accusations discussing how he gives off bad vibes and is creepy- if you’ve seen the film you already know)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

It was always so hot in that little one room chapel. There was no fan and everyone would be crushed in together like sardines. The air was always sticky and it turned everyone sluggish. Your mama never brought you and Tommy to church, but you saw how that singled you out in this community. The judgmental looks people would give you for not going always made you feel like they viewed your family as trailer trash. So when they left, you started going regular like everyone else. You wanted to make a good impression and give yourself an opportunity to be more involved in the community. You used to attend with Arvin’s family, but now you sit on the opposite side of the aisle.

You and Arvin were still on friendly terms. On your nights off, sometimes you’d be invited to join them for supper. Ever since you and Arvin broke up, you’ve politely denied his grandmother’s thoughtful invitations. Now that you were living alone with the Sheriff, you wouldn’t anticipate any more neighborly invitations but instead prayers to save your soul, like you weren’t already damned for ‘peddling the Devil’s drink’ as you’ve heard alcohol referred to so many times by Ms. Russell.

You didn’t care much for the new reverend, and you found yourself often zoning out during his sermons. You were more preoccupied with the uncomfortableness of the pews and how your thighs felt like you’d be ripping giant band-aids off the back of them when you stand up after the service ended- even if it was a cooler day. Reverend Teagardin made a terrible first impression in your opinion, and he never did nothing to make you think you were misjudging him. You trusted the Sheriff’s advice to steer clear of him. Though based on the liking he’d taken to talking to the high school aged girls after service ended, you were thinking you were too old for him anyways. You shook your head, chastising yourself for joking about something like that even just to yourself. You made sure to tell Lee whenever he did something to tip you off that he might be trouble. You didn’t trust him one bit.

After the service, you were almost ambushed by a couple of women who were notoriously known for being the town’s busy bodies. The shorter of the two was Ethel Perry, who absolutely wreaked of cigarette smoke and always carried a little beaded purse. The other was Ida Sinclair, whose hair was a silver blue, and always wore a turtleneck and a thick sweater overtop even in the middle of hot summer days. They were sweet ladies, and normally you’d love to gab and let them fill you in on all the town gossip. They were great to talk to. But now that you were on the other side of their gossip, their nice demeanor felt much more predatory now that they were seeking you out for information instead of sharing it.

“Sweetheart,” Ida said sweetly, cornering you outside by the steps. “You poor thing how are you holding up?” You were buttoning up your jacket, when the pair snuck up on you, catching you off guard.

“Oh Mrs. Sinclair, I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me,” you say, giving them a small smile.

“Is it true you’re renting a room to Sheriff Bodecker?” Ms. Perry interjects, not even bothering with the small talk. You almost respected her more direct approach, the small talk Ms. Sinclair was attempting to make made you feel a tinge resentful of their attitude towards you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, not giving her anymore details. If she wanted the gossip, she’d need to own up to being direct in her behavior.

“We heard Janie kicked him out of the house,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her face plastered with worry like she felt sorry for the man. You smiled through your teeth and nodded.

“Makes sense,” Ms. Perry added, “Him needing a room and with your mama leaving you here alone and all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say smiling through your teeth, you hadn’t realized you were grinding down on them that hard.

“Ms. Beaumont was going on and on yesterday about how it wasn’t fitting,” Ms. Perry continued. “You being a young single girl- working at that terrible bar, renting out a room to a man. She was insinuating something awful- but don’t worry dear. We know she’s just being meddlesome and trying to stir the pot where she shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Ms. Perry,” you responded, sarcastically but they didn’t pick up on it. “It was lovely seeing you both,” you say, stepping away, “but I should be heading home now.”

“Too bad the Sheriff doesn’t come to Church,” Mrs. Sinclair, said, “He could be driving you, so you don’t have to be walking.”

The Sheriff worked on Sunday mornings and both of them knew that. You knew it was just an attempt to insinuate something else you didn’t have the patience to try to decode. You just nodded as a goodbye and started walking home. It never took long to walk, and you wouldn’t bother the Sheriff for a ride unless you really needed one- like if it was bad weather or if you were leaving work too late at night. You didn’t mind walking at all- gave you a chance to just clear your head and enjoy the fresh air, especially after getting out of that stuffy chapel.

You knew the Sheriff actually wasn’t working today. He told you this morning he was going to the courthouse to sign his divorce papers and then to pick up his stuff at the house. You’d see him later on that night when he finished that whole mess. It was the quickest divorce you’d ever seen. Neither one of them seemed to care to get lawyers. Based on what Lee told you so far, he really just was fine with her taking anything she asked for- including the house. His indifference to the whole thing really was like no divorce you’d ever heard about. You sympathized, because it was just him not wanting to prolong the painful ordeal of it all. He just wanted to get it all over and done with, and you understood that.

When you got home, you changed out of your Sunday dress and into some work clothes. A pair of overalls, a short sleeved tshirt and a pair of your old saddle shoes. You protected your hair with a bandana and decided to get to work. You got some free cardboard boxes from the grocer yesterday, and you resolved to help Lee out and clear out all of your mom’s old stuff. You told him when he left to leave the door unlocked for you and it would be cleared out as best you could get it so he’d had somewhere to put his stuff when he got back.

You started with the closet and getting rid of all her clothes. You’d call the donation center tomorrow and they’d send someone to come pick it all up. You weren’t sentimental about anything that belonged to her. Much like the Sheriff and his divorce, you just wanted to get this stuff out of the house and get the chore over with. You kept the photographs, and some of the things you knew might be worth something, like any of the jewelry she’d left in her jewelry box. You took anything that was hers and either tossed it or put it in the large donation pile.

You knew the weather tonight would be fine, so you opted to carry all the boxes outside and stack them on the porch. You figured it would be better and easier to deal with if you piled the full boxes outside before they came tomorrow. You didn’t touch Tommy’s room. You figured there was no need, and he was the only one out of the two you had a small amount of hope would someday come back, even if it was just to visit.

You closed the first box, and carried it down the hall and down the stairs slowly because it blocked your vision. At the bottom of the stairs, you propped the box on your hip so you could open the door. You then walked sideways out of the front door to drop it on the porch. As you were walking out you saw the familiar cruiser, driving down the road. You smiled, actually liking the feeling of having someone living with you. It was a little exciting. It was clouded by terrible circumstances on both your parts, but you hadn’t realized how lonely you had been living alone- even if it had only been a couple of days of Lee being here.

When Lee saw you walk out on the porch, he almost hit the garage door. You looked absolutely gorgeous, sweaty from working around the house and moving boxes. His heart felt strained in his chest when you smiled at him. That right there made his whole shitty day worth it. He hated facing Janie, scribbling his signature fast as ever on every document thrown at him. He hated that she was there with Miller, him standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder comforting her, like she wasn’t the adulterer in the room. It was infuriating.

He felt like a stranger in his own goddamn house, rummaging through everything grabbing what was his. Janie watched him like a hawk, following him around and saying nothing, like he wasn’t to be trusted to not take something. What like he’d steal something that was his? He hardly spoke two words to her. Miller sitting in his recliner, watching the news on the television. She made no attempt to even shield him from the look of another man living there. She wasted no time, announcing she’d be marrying the bastard as Lee was leaving. He mumbled a ‘congratulations’ and loaded the few boxes he had into the trunk of the cruiser.

Now seeing you there standing on the porch, all the bullshit he had to put up with today seemed worth it. It was grounding. He sighed, tossing his hat on the seat, and zipping up his leather jacket- ignoring the way it was fitting a little snugger. As he fumbled with the zipper, his mind started to wander- thoughts always clouded with you. He was usually able to keep his feeling pushed away when he was out, but the second he would see you again, all progress was lost. And here you are, like you were waiting for him to come back to you.

“I still have a few more boxes,” you say as he closes the door to the cruiser.

“I can move them,” he tries to protest, but you’ve already disappeared back into the house. He gets his own boxes out of the trunk and brings them into the house, leaving them on the living room floor for now. He hangs up his coat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, and then heads up the narrow staircase to see if he can help you. He gets to his room and he stops in the doorway, dead in his tracks. You’re on the floor, on your knees in front of a box, using a roll of packing tape to secure it shut. His heart stops and he’s frozen. He stutters to make himself known, but you don’t seem to notice the way he reacted to you. He’s relieved that you don’t seem to miss a beat, pushing the box in his direction, your way of telling him he can bring it outside. You stretch over and pull another box in front of you and begin placing folded clothes that were on the floor inside just to fill it to the brim completely before closing it.

That silent assembly line of the two of you makes the work go by quick. You have six large boxes ready to get picked up tomorrow sitting on the front porch, and Lee is able to bring his stuff upstairs. You decide to let him have some time to just settle, and you get started on what to do for dinner when you see it getting pretty late in the afternoon.

There was never any spoken agreement that you’d both eat together. It just kind of happens on its on the past two nights he’s been here. You’d be making dinner for yourself anyways, and making something for two isn’t that much more work. You know he doesn’t expect you to cook for him at all, but since you were taking up the kitchen anyways you don’t mind. You weren’t the best cook, but you’re pretty sure your cooking beats a cold sandwich from the diner.

Upstairs, Lee was letting his emotions get the best of him. His ever-present feelings for you- he actually wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attraction, or maybe he was so used to coldness from Janie that he’s falling apart at a woman being nice to him and treating like a person. He needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing how you looked packing the boxes up. On your knees, the overalls hugging your figure, the little bit of sweat on your brow- it was the best sight he ever got the pleasure of seeing. He looks at the mirror that sat in the corner of the room. He sighs looking over his appearance.

There’s no way a beautiful, young girl like you would look at him the same way, as much as he wished it. His slightly protruding stomach, a sign of all the drinking and his bad diet. He had a little bit of a double chin from angles as well. He sticks is neck out to try to remember what his face looked like when his jaw was more defined. He realizes how ridiculous he was being. He didn’t think you were the kind of person to care that much about the things that very much bothered him. He runs a hand through his hair, and continues to hang up his shirts in the closet. You were turning him soft, and you had no idea.

He hears you coming up the stairs, and he feels his heartbeat quicken like you were going to catch him thinking about you. He was being so stupid, he chastises himself. He couldn’t have you affecting him like this. He turned his head and catches your eye as you are heading into the bathroom in the hallway.

“Just washing up before supper,” you say casually, and heading into the bathroom. He had to pull himself together. He sighed, thinking about your sweetness and hospitality ever since he showed up at your door two nights ago. You welcomed him into your home without a second thought. You trusted him, and that made him feel even more guilty. He couldn’t be thinking that anything between the two of you could happen. He needed to be a good man. But Christ, how even could a good man keep himself in check when he’s in such close quarters with you?

“Made mac and cheese with some grilled chicken if you’re hungry,” you say, not looking back at him but just immediately heading back down the hallway and down the stairs. He watched you walk away, biting his lip at how your ass looked in that denim. He gently hits his head against the mirror, like that’s somehow going to snap him out of it. He makes a fist and then stretches out his hands like that will do anything.

“Ms. Perry and Mrs. Sinclair cornered me outside Church today,” you said with a chuckle, as he came into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” he asks, taking the plate you hand to him. He opens up the drawer and grabs silverware for him and yourself while you put your plate together.

“Yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “I’m the talk of the town apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that, hun,” he says sympathetically, “That’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, walking over to your kitchen table and taking a seat. “I find them kind of funny,” you shrug, “They were talking about me long before this and this is just the newest thing.”

“What did they say?” he asks, as he takes his seat across from you. It was a small table, only was able to seat two comfortably, anymore would be too crowded.

“They think I should be using you as a ride to Church,” you reply, “Also that our situation ain’t fitting according to Ms. Beaumont. But they insisted they don’t think that at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins.

“I thought she was gonna ask me how much I’m charging you for rent next,” you scoff before taking a bit of food.

“Do they bother you?” he asks. He felt bad at how this living situation would affect you. He understood how much keeping up appearances mattered in this town. If someone were to start a nasty rumor, your name would be tarnish all over town. You might as well start wearing a big red A on your jacket.

“Not really,” you shrug. “It bothered me in the moment, cause they cornered me, but I have no reason to be worried. It’s not like anything they say is gonna amount to anything without evidence. They can insinuate all they want.”

The word evidence hung heavy on his mind. His brain running through scenarios if you both actually had something worth hiding. Kissing you in the backseat of the cruiser pulled into some back road by the water somewhere or sneaking touches under the table at the diner. It wouldn’t be wrong, not really, he thought to himself. You’re an adult and if you felt the same way fuck what the town would think.

You actually thought the Sheriff was quite handsome. You hadn’t really been able to look past how intimidating he looked sometimes or his gruff exterior. The man sitting across from you was not like the guy that makes the town cower away from him at times. He was relaxed, his face especially. It was a rare form for him. The man seemed to constantly be stressed, full of pent-up tension, no doubt due to the stress of his job. You noticed that his eyes looked softer, and how blue they were. Suddenly, you realized it was just you and him- alone. Living in your house. You felt your face heat up, and he picked up on your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you say, a little nervously. “Just need some water.”

You get up and head over to the cabinet next to the sink, and you reach up to get yourself a glass. Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, making you jump. He’s just reaching to get himself a glass too, his body pressing very lightly against you. He gives you a concerned look as you look flustered and you let out a small gasp.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, and you could almost swear you saw him smirking. He takes his glass over to the fridge and pours himself some of the iced-tea from the pitcher you keep inside the fridge.

“I think you’re right about Reverend Teagardin,” you say, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

“He’s no good,” Lee agreed. “He’s crooked. Just be careful around him, sweetheart.” Those damn pet names were making your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I think I’m too old to be on his radar,” you admit quietly, in a rushed tone. Your accusation hushed, even if it was just you and Lee.

“You see him do anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really,” you say, “but he talks for an awful long time to the high school aged girls after services. I don’t know it just gives me a gut feeling about him. Those poor girls, like Lenora- they don’t know when their being sweet talked and manipulated. Just makes me nervous. Married man talking to those girls so shamelessly- charming them.”

“I’ll try to swing by and check the place out,” he nods, looking a little lost in thought.

“That’ll make me feel so much better,” you smile. He grins and licks his lips, before taking a swig of his drink.

You both take a seat at the table again, finishing up dinner fairly quickly. You asked him about his day and he told you all about Miller and the papers, and you listened intently. You felt bad he had to go through that. Yeah, Lee was not a picture-perfect husband by any means, you were sure. But the actions he faced today still sounded harsh. Somewhere in your mind, you thought he deserved better. Maybe he didn’t, but the man was clearly in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Since you made dinner, I can clean up,” he offered.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lee,” you smile shyly. This all felt so… domestic. You were acting like a married couple. It’s not like the two of you could help it. You were living under the same roof and existing in the same space. This is how people who live together interact. That’s it. Right?

“I think I’ll call and leave a message at the donation center so they send someone to get those boxes tomorrow,” you decide. You head over to the living room where you kept your phone, pulling out your address book out of a drawer in the table the phone rested on. Lee nodded, taking your dishes and his own over to the sink.

You sit on the couch, criss cross and hold the base of the phone on one knee, resting the receiver up to your ear with your elbow. You dial the number, the phone clicking every time the dial falls back into place.

Lee can’t make out what you are saying, but he chuckles recognizing the tone of voice you use- like a customer service voice he’ll hear you pull out at the bar often. He does the dishes, and just lets himself escape into his fantasies again. His mind was racing about what those women at Church thought was happening between the two of you. He knows its wrong, but god he wishes it was real.

He imagines that after you both have gone to bed you show up at his door in the middle of the night- looking like how you did the night you agreed to let him stay. You confess how much you want him and he just pulls you into a rushed kiss- you just overtaken by the sudden relief of all the pent-up tension. He imagines how it would feel to hear little moans against his lips coming from you when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He can almost feel what it would be like to have you tightly against his body. His hands being allowed to just freely explore you and how you must look under him, begging and needy-

“Okay, that’s all set,” you announce walking back into the kitchen. “Hopefully they’ll send someone over first thing.”

“G-good, yeah,” he stutters out, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I go in at 4,” you reply, not noticing how flustered he is. He’s relieved to see you looking in the fridge and it gives him a chance to adjust before you saw how hard he was.

“Need a ride?” He asks. “I can pick you up on my way home.”

“Perfect,” you smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m gonna see if there is anything good on the television we can watch.”

“Sounds good, doll,” he says, relieved when she finally heads back into the other room, taking her seat on the couch again, clicking through the channels.

He needed a minute before heading in there. Every time you were in the room he felt like his skin was on fire. He knew if he wanted to stay, he needed to get a grip. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He joined you in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an old picture playing on the black and white set.

Neither of you could pay attention to the damn screen no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room- between the both of you was borderline unbearable. Both of you were stealing glances at the other, not realizing the other person was doing the same. When you would look over to him, his eyes would be toward the tv set, seeming to be watching the picture- but he also looked incredibly tense. You wondered if he was hanging out with you because he felt like he needed to. You feel awkward now thinking he’s just sitting though this to not be rude.

Lee was on the whole other side of the world in comparison to what you thought he was thinking about. He was trying desperately to gain some level of composure. He felt like he was acting like a teenager again, fucking jumping out of his skin sitting next to a pretty girl. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. An hour went by, neither of you saying anything- him just lost in his own thoughts. But then he felt your head hit his shoulder ever so lightly.

You had fallen asleep. He wondered how long you had been sleeping before he even realized. Here he was stressed out as ever and you are relaxed enough to fall asleep. He doesn’t even dare move. His whole body goes stiff, not wanting anything to wake you up. He wouldn’t move from this spot for all the money in the world. You were blissfully unaware at how you cuddled up next to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. You were going to be the death of him.

He very carefully wanted to just make himself a little more comfortable. He slowly moved the arm you had pinned and adjusted so it was wrapped around your shoulder. His fingertips just grazing your skin where the sleeve of your t-shirt ended lightly. Your skin was so soft, and he bites his lip, thinking about how soft you must feel everywhere. The man was so goddamn touched starved. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this close with Janie. It had to have been years since he experienced something this intimate. After a very long internal battle, he allowed himself to rest his head on top of yours and close his eyes for a few. He didn’t intend on falling asleep, just bask selfishly in the moment for a few minutes.

You opened your eyes and yawned softly. You looked at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes again, too tired to realize the position you were in at first. Then, a minute later you realized, and your eyes shot open again. Cuddled up to Lee’s side, his arm loosely around you. His head rested on the back of the couch, looking so peaceful.

Fuck. You were so embarrassed. You hoped he had fallen asleep first and would have no knowledge of this interaction in the morning. You carefully untangled yourself from him, moving as slow as possible to not wake him up.

You clicked off the TV and then turned off the lights, getting ready to retire up to your room for the night. You felt so hot, flushed with pure embarrassment. Your mouth was dry and the only thing you think about was cold water. You tip-toe into the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, drinking the whole thing at once. You turn off the kitchen light and leave your glass in the sick before heading upstairs.

You change out of your overalls and shirt and put on your blue nightgown. You head across the hall to the bathroom, navigating in the dark. You brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth before climbing into your bed and swaddling yourself with your many blankets. Your eyes are heavy, and the feeling of being in Lee’s arms is still present on your skin.

His large hands sliding up your thighs is what jolts you awake. His calloused hands moving their way up your body, pushing up your dress as they went. He dips down and presses a tantalizing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your cheek softly and the other rubbing over your wet panties. You kiss him back, opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. You can feel his hand slip under the waistband of your panties and his thumb gently rubs your clit. Without even questioning anything, you moan and he trails his lips down to your neck, and you shiver at the feeling of his stubble. You arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your fingers play with the ends of his short hair. He groans against your skin and the sound just sends a shiver throughout your whole body. You can feel him smile, and he pushes two fingers inside. You gasp and he muffles your sounds with another deep kiss. You feel overwhelmed by how good it feels combined with the terms of endearment that fall from his lips as he praises you.

The ringing of your alarm clock scares the shit out of you, and your eyes fly open at the sound. You’re breathing heavily, and you feel your hair sticking to your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh, and click off the alarm, and then cover your face with your pillow. You felt how wet you were without having to check. You had a sex dream about Lee. A fucking wet dream about Lee Bodecker.

Part Three

Taglist:

@asylumaniac​

@rosalynshields 

@jiminlife2k18

@scar-is-bi

[slasherhaven]

Do you write nsfw stuff aswell? (If yes, would you mind giving us nsfw hc’s for Brahms Michael and Thomas? Since you did relationship hc’s nsfw would be very fitting?) if not pls ignore 👁👄👁

I do! I’m going to add Jason to this because I plan on doing some relationship HC’s for him as well!

Nsft under the cut

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas has two sides of him in this case.

During your first time together, he is nervous. He loves you so much and he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't want to do anything wrong. And let's be real, he's not exactly experienced. So he lets you take the lead. He appreciates the guidance but he mainly wants you to feel comfortable and safe.

Towards the beginning of your sexual relationship, he's extra careful and gentle. He will never touch you without consent, even when you tell him that it's completely fine and that you want him to touch you. He's honestly still in shock that you actually want him. Him.

But the longer you are together, the more comfortable and sure of himself he becomes. Especially is you start begging him to take more control or to be a little rougher.

Thomas towers over you in any situation and in the bedroom he absolutely engulfs you.

He loves when you cling to him as he fucks you into the mattress. Loves when you moan his name or beg him for more. He absolutely melts when you praise him, telling him how good he feels and how wonderful he is.

Eats you out like you are a five star meal, and to him you are. His large hands parting your thighs, feeling you shake as you orgasm, loving how your fingers curl and tug on his hair, or how your hips buck against your control.

He likes knowing that he can make you feel good, that he can make you feel like this.

Thomas is huge and strong and he will have the headboard banging against the wall. And everyone else in the house just has to deal with that. Hoyt will comment on it, embarrassing you but at least you get to see Tommy get all protective over you. Luda May tells Hoyt to shut the hell up. She wants grandbabies!

Thomas can be dominant and more rough with you, never hurting you though. And you love that side of him.

But he can also be a huge softy. He thinks you look so adorable and tiny sitting on his lap as you ride him, your hands clutching his shoulders. He can't help but watch in awe. But he isn't one to just sit back and enjoy it, unless you ask him too (because he deserves it after a hard day's work) so his hands will be on your hips to assist you with your movements.

Normally the two of you only get to be together in your bedroom, since there are usually other people wandering around the house. Thomas likes to keep the basement clean so that you can visit him down there and not be grossed out. So the two of you spend a lot of time down there. He's a little more reluctant to have sex in the basement, just because of what else goes on down there, but you both know that you are both completely safe and will be undisturbed.

So it's not too difficult to talk Thomas into taking you down there. Either you'll ride him on one of the chairs but it's more common for him to lift you up onto the large table and take you on that.

Thomas loves to cum inside you, definitely has a breeding kink. It makes him feel closer to you and it makes him think about having a family with you, of you carrying his children. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

Michael Myers:

I hope you know what you're getting into with this one.

Michael is always stoic and that includes during sex. Though, if you're lucky, you will catch a glimpse of him showing the smallest amount of vulnerability as his release washes over him.

He's dominant and possessive.

He loves leaving marks on you. Bruises of his hand prints on your hips, waist, and thighs. If he's at the point of taking his mask off around you, he'll be leaving bruises and bite marks as well.

He has (or will) take you in every room of the house. He doesn't care, if he wants you he'll have you. He doesn't even care if there were people watching, luckily that's not exactly a problem when you're at home and your never really together in public.

Loves to wrap a hand around your throat and just hold it there. You both know that he could kill you with ease but he was choosing not too. Something about it is a little thrilling. He'll squeeze his hand, make your breath catch, letting you go light headed and feeling how you clench around him before releasing.

Afterwards you will be sore, covered in various bruises and possibly bite marks. He's not apologetic in the slightest. If anything, he is proud of the state he left you in.

Teasing him never ends well. Whatever you do, you only do because he allows it. When you climb onto his lap, straddling him and holding his shoulders, he is watching carefully and ready to act. If you somehow think he's letting you have some control, you're wrong. He'll let you carry on for a little while, kissing the visible skin of his neck as you roll you hips against his. But once he's had enough, he's pinning you down or bending you over the nearest stable surface.

Michael doesn't care for taking things slow or gentle. Technically he can, he has amazing self control, but he doesn't want too. Taking you roughly and possessively is just more satisfying to him.

He's not a gentle soul but if he's keeping you around, he must care for you in his own messed up way. So, he might not be much of a cuddler but if he's in a good mood he'll carry you to bed and lay you down to rest. If one of his bites or something has made you bleed, he'll tend to it as you sleep or as you watch him through heavy eyelids.

Jason Voorhees:

We all know that Jason doesn't have the most positive view on sex so you're going to be dating for a long time before you get to that stage.

He loves you and gradually gets more and more comfortable with you. He trusts you and that's why he allows you to start easing him into these new experiences.

Starting with some heavier make out sessions to ease him into it. Rolling your hips against his and grinding against his growing hard-on, giving him a taste of how you could make him feel. He's a strong man but his resolve is weakening. Oh the effect you have on him. It probably won't get much further than that the first time.

Slowly but surely, Jason warms up to the whole thing.

Even once you've been sleeping together and it's become a normal thing. He would still need you to seek him out for it even when he desires it. Eventually though, he will start approaching you with his needs. Just be patient with him because he'll definitely be patient with you.

You're definitely going to have to guide him through your first time together, and you'll probably be riding him. Even if it's your first time, he would encourage you to take some sort of control so that you feel comfortable and know that he isn't going to hurt you. Even though you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

Compared to him, you're just so small and fragile. It makes him oddly nervous. He thinks you're precious and never wants to hurt you, never wants to mess up with you.

He kind of likes you taking your pleasure into your own hands and letting him be the person that pleases and satisfies you.

He'll still top though!

Jason isn't into teasing much at all. He just wants to make you feel good.

His cabin is secluded and offers a lot of privacy, so the two of you have plenty of time together. He feels comfortable in the wilderness, knowing the woods like the back of his hand. All I'm saying is that he will definitely hold you up and have sex with you against a tree.

For somebody so big and strong, he's so gentle when he touches you. But don't forget that this man can pick you up and throw you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing. And who knows, if you ask him nicely he might even start to put that to use in the bedroom...

Brahms Heelshire:

The thing is that once the two of you start having sex, Brahms is going to want it almost all the time. You have unleashed a monster. He just can't get enough.

If he hasn't already taken the mask off around you yet, this is probably what would do it. He wasn't to kiss you properly, to leave marks behind with his mouth, to taste you!

Plus, if you plead with him to let you see his face while you're getting hot and heavy, his chest swells in pride and love. Yes, he can do this one thing for you.

Brahms is a brat and he is needy.

You'll know when he wants you because he makes sure to let you know. He'll come up behind you when you're doing chores and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back towards him. Before you can even question him, he rolls his hips against your ass so you can feel how hard he is.

You've got this huge house all to yourselves...he does plan on having you in everything room.

He won't take up too much of your time, promising you that you can get back to your chores soon. If you're doing dishes in the kitchen, he'll lean you over the counter and take you from behind. Then you can finish up afterwards, right?

You'll have to put your foot down every now and again and tell him no. He's not going to make you do anything but he might sulk about it.

Remember that one rule about having to give him a kiss goodnight? It becomes so much more now. He still demands the kiss but by now you're also sharing a bed. He's a cuddler and wraps himself around you, you're not going anywhere even if you wanted too.

He'll nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his hand stroking over your stomach, and his hips pressing into yours. Thinking he's being sneaky.

He's waiting for you to respond to him, otherwise he'll just keep rutting until he stains his pants.

But if you turn around, laying a leg over his hip and running your hands over him as you press a kiss to his neck or the underside of his jaw, he just melts.

His hands are all over you, kneading and pawing.

Depending on his mood, he can be on top or the bottom.

Brahms will bury his face into the crook of your neck as you cling to him, him fucking you into the bed.

He'll bend you over any surface, pin you up against any wall, lay you down on any piece of furniture.

But he also loves it when you take control and ride him. Whether it be in bed or in the lounge. He'll hold your hips, his head tilted back as moans and whines escape him. Again, he is very needy!

Brahms is insatiable, that's what you need to know.

[uncertaininnit]

a bitch is going to try to write an essay about the incredible portrayal of dream and tommy’s dynamic in one sitting cause if i stop ill never start again so if you are seeing this lucky you

(Okay this actually got finished and turned out a lot better than expected so anyway read if you care lmao)

Everyone who is seeing this knows the way Tommy’s arc is going. He is getting depressed, getting suicidal, grasping for friendship in his exile because of how alone he feels all the time. He lost his Tubbo. 

And Dream, he has all of the power. OP gear. He is the owner of the goddamn server. He only has to say the word to get anything he likes, despite the power Tubbo appears to have in his own country. And despite how you would think Eret has power, as King. Dream is quite literally god, and has a complex to match.

Ever since Dream manipulated Tubbo into exiling Tommy and facilitating his exile, Dream has been spending a lot of time just... hanging out with Tommy. He jokes with him, sort of helps him, just makes Tommy used to being alone. But alone with him. Tommy, infamous for being clingy, clings to him. He starts to trust him when Dream doesn’t hurt him, physically or mentally. And then Dream DOES hurt him. Just to remind Tommy who is helpless and alone.

This. Right here. It is the perfect example of an abusive relationship. I’ve never been in a relationship, so I’m going to use a good example and use a fictional one. Excuse me as I compare Killing Stalking to the Dream SMP.

In Killing Stalking, Yoonbum is crazedly in love with this man. He breaks into his house and finds a woman, dying and tied up like she was being sexually tortured. The man he loves, Sangwoo, finds him and knocks him out, and ties him up.

Yoonbum is in love with Sangwoo, and alone, and gripping for anything for comfort. Sangwoo uses Yoonbum to project childhood trauma onto. And he tortures him. Mentally. He will tend his wounds, be really nice, even let Bum sleep in his bed. Bum begins to trust him, and he turns around and hurts him again. Physically and mentally. It’s a cycle of torment, and because the both of them are extremely mentally ill, they never want to escape it.

Now Tommyinnit is definitely not in love with Dream. And Dream is not projecting any childhood trauma. However, the dynamics match up.

Tommy, taken from his home by Dream and already getting depressed, (oop sorry he just said he was ‘clinically and mentally insane’ on stream as I was typing and it FITS) is alone. He has no reason to think he will ever be visited by his best friend, because his best friend was the one who made the choice to throw him out. He is depressed. He contemplates suicide sometimes and gets more reckless when moving around the nether, but Dream keeps him alive.

Dream, a literal god, has nothing to do but take over. He wants everyone to bend to his will, and Tommy gets in the way of that. But ultimately Dream rules all, and he can do whatever he likes to flatten Tommy’s will. 

So they get into this toxic relationship. Tommy, all alone and friendless, grasping for any reason to live, and Dream, a man who can play with Tommy like putty and suffer no consequence. Tommy has no other interaction, aside from Ranboo and occasional other, but those people are usually under the threat of Dream and can’t do a thing. Dream can bend Tommy to think anything.

As I was typing, Dream told Tommy a story of an interaction that he had with Tubbo. I watched that interaction, I know how it happened. They were talking about how L’manburg looked. Tubbo said something like “Yeah, I think the country is really developing!” And Dream added on by saying “especially without Tommy here.” Tubbo LOOKED AT HIS ‘Your Tommy’ Compass and said something like “I think that’s just coincidence.”

When Dream retold the story, he switched the roles. Tubbo was the one talking about how the country was so much better without Tommy. And Tommy has no way to learn otherwise. Dream can bend his perception of anything that happens. 

As well as fucking up everything Tommy thinks, Dream can fuck up the way he feels. As I touched on before, Tommy is alone and clinging to Dream, the only person who consistently talks to him. Not only that, but Dream spends most of his conversations being pleasant to Tommy. Tommy thinks he could be getting on his good side, getting his chance of seeing L’manburg back. And most importantly, he has someone to talk to, someone to keep him company, keep him from losing his mind.

But Dream doesn’t stay pleasant. He will spend the whole stream being nice to Tommy, building trust, before turning around and absolutely wrecks him. He’ll spend all day grinding with Tommy for gear or whatever, and then when they’re done, he tells Tommy to put it in a pit. And Dream would explode all of Tommy’s hard work. Ruthlessly not only stripping Tommy of his items, but of his trust, and his stability.

Tommy is already in a terrible place. Dream has created a cycle of torment that serves Tommy nothing but agony, for his own enjoyment, and for the idea of having unrefuted power. Tommy’s idea of a stable friendship is wrecked, and Dream shows no sign of stopping.

I am so, so scared to see what this holds for him.

[mcmoth]

BOIS

The aro c!Tommy propoganda is done.

Here:

Friends can be Home, too

Summary:

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

'Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

 He couldn't doubt anymore.

A journey of introspection, self doubt, and realizing you're not alone.

Or read on ao3!

Warnings: swearing, internalized arophobia, which includes self doubt, a bit of self hate, that sort of stuff. Also, this will have like, mentions of attraction and all that stuff, and Tommy gets pretty confused, so if you'd like to avoid that? This isn't the fic for you, ig. Btw, as a reminder, this is all set in the dsmp universe and is not about the irl people in any way.

Now onto the fic!

Welp.

Tommy sure is ready to stab someone right now.

Well, not really. More accurately he wanted to run, or shrivel up into a fucked up raisin, or snap, or just exist in darkness right now. Because there were his two best friends, cuddling on the couch. And he was sat there, next to them, supposed to be enjoying movie night.

It's not like he wasn't happy for them. They can do what they want, he reminded himself, again and again. They're just expressing their love, they're just close, and Tommy has to stop being such a fucking oddball about it. This wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.

And he could even see Ranboo giving him looks, probably about to ask something stupid. But if he made any comment, expressed discomfort, that would just be him being a dick and a weirdo. He's not going to ruin this for them. He just has to… to ignore it. To ignore it. He can do that. Yes.

“You alright, Tommy?”

Tommy's jaw snapped, he could feel his teeth grinding, and the couch was feeling all too small. So with a fast raise to his feet, he stumbled away, throwing a brash “fine" Ranboo's way, something burning deep in the pit that was his chest.

It was fine. It was fine. Why wasn't it fine? What the fuck was wrong with him??

Maybe he was just…

Jealous.

 

***

 

“I think I have a crush on Hannah.”

Tubbo and Ranboo stilled. The silence was… bad.

“oh?”

Tommy gulped, anxiously crinkling the chip bag he got from targay. “Y-yeah.”

Tubbo hummed. “I've never seen you interact with her much. When… did that start?”

Tommy's mind buzzed, and he resisted crushing the food in his hands, reclining heavily against the backrest of the bench. “I-I don't know, uh, recently? I guess? She's just… nice. She uh…. Has pretty hair? And she gave me a flower once! That was just, swe- uh, poggers of her, so. Yeah. I just think… yeah.”

Tubbo nodded, head tilting. “Do you think she likes you back?”

Tommy's eyes widened, and he didn't know why he laughed, but he did, and when he responded, he himself was taken aback by the hiss accompanying the words. “No!! She- why would- no- no, I mean… m-ma- I don't know??”

Ranboo swung his tail. “She better not. I mean, how old is she?”

“What does that matter?”

Ranboo stared. “You’re a child. Technically.”

Tommy bristled. “Fuck you, I am a big man! I'll kill you!”

The conversation moved on after that, and Tommy, somewhere along the way, quickly got lost. Head filled with cotton, electricity running through his veins, feeling horribly, oddly, humiliated and strangely… dissatisfied.

They didn't care. And he just felt more confused than ever.

…Why did he even do that?

 

***

 

Tommy was walking, grass up to his knees, a lead in hand. When he reached the village, he tied it to a fence, patting his borrowed horse before placing feet on the path, comforted by the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the feel of the sun on his neck. He looked around, at the wooden houses and half stacked stalls and idle chatter. He looked around and he thought.

He thought back to older days. This was… strangely nostalgic. Walking alone, in an unfamiliar town, the vastness of the world enveloping him in it's many potentials. He still wasn't sure when he felt better. Running around on the streets, just trying to survive, noone by his side, weak but naïve, hopeful. Or now, with some people to care for and trust, a place to return to, enough food in his pack, but shouldered with the weight of a dozen betrayals, life slipping past him three times too many. In a sense, he was still just trying to survive. Everything was so different now, yet the same.

He supposes, one thing that remained, was the sense of loneliness.

He grasped the front of his shirt, taking in the beating of his heart, looking at the strangers mingling amongst themselves. At the pairs, at the couples, at the families, sharing laughs and smiles, a contrast to the furrowed brows or tired amusement of shopkeepers and the idle folk visiting them.

He had always wanted a family.

…there was one way to get a family.

Someone to share laughs with. Someone who would comfort you. Someone who would take your hand, or hold you through the night, and never even leave. Someone who promises to stay.

It was a nice thought.

So why was it so hard to conceptualize? To imagine, to picture someone actually coherent, to look at a person and go – yes. I want to be your partner.

...eugh. just that sentence made his whole nervous system do a double take.

But why? Why? Was it the betrayals? Was it some fucked up self conscious mind shit? Was that it? Was he just fucked up in the head? Maybe.

Maybe.

But as it is, he knew he liked girls. He did. He liked them. They were… they were nice. Like Niki, who smelled of baked goods, and had a soft smile, and who had once given him a hug when she found him crying during the revolution, and who looked very nice in dresses. Or Puffy, who had made him a pickaxe when he asked for one, and who opposed Jack in stealing his hotel, and who offered him therapy, and she had really cool horn rings. Or Hannah, with her red flowers, and pretty builds, and the way the nature seemed just a bit more lively with her around, and her laugh was bright with mischievous intent that he could empathize with. They… they were nice. Yeah. Most girls were so nice.

So why… why hadn't he found one that he could. Actually picture doing… anything. In his head. No kissing, no dates, none of that… shmuck. It was just… he could see many girls his age running around, just now, in front of his eyes, many running through his mind as he searched his memories. None of them… no. And he tried thinking of boys, but that didn't… no. Not that either. …Enbies?

No… no, nothing… nothing felt. Good. None of it felt good, he just felt sick, he just felt weird, he didn't even feel dirty per se, but more like he was charting into foreign grounds, into something alien, and none of the thoughts he forced to visualize behind his eyelids, fleeting from how quickly he shut them out, felt like him. It didn't feel like him.

His fingers trembled, his chest felt tight, throat choked, and his head, on his shoulders, heavy and woozy and oh so muddled. He felt his heart race. Was… was that it? Maybe that was a sign. People said heart racing was a sign of attraction. Was there anyone in particular who did that? Maybe he was wrong – he was not lacking or messed up or broken, he just had buried the feelings so deep below his ribs, underneath fabricated doubts and trauma and the disconnect he had with reality and relationships in general, and once he got over those barriers, and just found someone, he would experience that joy that everyone spoke about. That closeness. He just had to… allow himself to get closer. To know more people, know them better.

That was… that was probably it.

But no matter. He raised his eyes, his senses coming back to him like the wind blowing his hair out of his eyes, blinking at the noise around him.

After all, he still came here for a reason.

 

***

 

“Yeah, I like these ones the best,” Tubbo said as he handed Tommy the various colored discs. Tommy nodded, smiling as he sorted through them, writing down the names in his notepad, feeling little stones dig into his elbows. Tubbo joined him fully on the ground, laying down next to him. “What do you need these for, anyways?” he blinked, and there was a smirk growing on his face. “Are they for… someone?”

Tommy furrowed his brows, staring at the other. “What?”

Tubbo chuckled nervously, waving his hand around as he stumbled over his words. “You- you know. Like a gift? Are you going to… to try to, get someone?”

Tommy’s stare just became sharper, becoming even more confused. “What??” What the fuck was he talking about?

“You know, like a- a date?” Tommy blanked. “Cause- you know, you've been talking about girls a lot lately, and I just thought-"

“No.” Tommy interrupted, feeling numb. “No, it's not for a fucking girl.”

“Oh.” Tubbo laid on the grass, clearly uncomfortable. He began to tear up the leaf he had picked up. “Sorry, I just thought- I'm not really good at this whole thing… sorry for assuming. W- …what is the reason, then?”

Tommy sighed, thankful for the topic change. “It's for… you know how I’m going to therapy?”

Tubbo hummed in affirmation.

“Puffy suggested that, since I like music, I should like, indulge in that, use it to calm myself or give myself something to do, that junk. So I’ve just been. Collecting, I guess.” He looked over the list again, then closed the notepad and sat up, discs in hand. “I wanna build a place where I just keep all the records, maybe I’ll even sell the ones I don't like. Good business practice, you know?”

Tubbo brightened. “Oh! That sounds really cool! If you need help with the building part, I can help you, by the way!”

Tommy looked at Tubbo's grin, so sweet and infectious, and his heart thawed, thinking of working with Tubbo again, building towards something together. It was a nice thought. “Alright.”

It would be nice to be with Tubbo again.

 

***

 

Tommy felt miserable.

This… this was miserable. He didn't know why. It really shouldn't be – it was just music. He was just sorting through all of his music, picking ones he liked, picking ones to comfort him, he loved music, it was fine, it just…

Why did so many of the songs have to be about love.

It made him feel angry and hurt and alone in a particular way that was so familiar and yet so utterly different. Because when he felt alone before, he fought with himself the same, he sunk into the thoughts of being unlovable or broken or undeserving of company, but at least he could understand it. At least he could look back now and think “Dream was a bitch" and that would be some solace. At least he could have hope that even if he was unlovable, he could still love. Love others. Try to seek others. Even if he never got that back.

But now, hearing all the poetics and sweet confessions that were in such abundance, something that sounded so passionate and revered, so integral, it was like looking into another reality he didn't, couldn't, understand, and suddenly, he felt more alien than ever before.

And most importantly, how fucking stupid that was, that the thing that made him feel that way was love.

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

He couldn't doubt anymore.

God….

He laid on the ground, head to the cold floor, the record still spinning. The noise bounced off the dark wooden walls and into his skull, grating and aching. He covered his ears, messed up his hair, breathed in and out. In and out. What was wrong. What was wrong.

The record fell to silence. Then it started back again, as it automatically swapped out. Next.

His fingers felt restless, his whole body did. He tapped his skull, feeling the thumps echo. Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe-

“-ow will I ever know you enough to love you, if you're hiding who you are?

Don't ask me to explain-"

He startled, his breath catching. This disc was scratchier than the others. It felt different. Something in him drew in the lyrics, head loud. He blinked.

…He's not hiding. Is he? Hiding what? He’s- no. Just- Breathe in-

“-Who are you hiding from, across the table with a penny in each eye?

Don't ask me to explain, don’t ask me to explain-"

His breath escaped, arms trembling as his body froze. He didn't understand. He couldn't explain. He wanted to cry. Something was unravelling.

“I'd like to marry all of my close friends, and live in a big house together by an angry sea,”

He sobbed.

He did, he thought, with surprise, as the tears fell.

“Am I the devil's marbles don't move on without me,

Who will be watching my body when I sleep?

Who will I believe in?”

Something… yeah.

Something happened.

Because suddenly, all that stress, all that confusion, all that loathing, was detangling, and the tears ran deep, ran painful, silent, wheezing screams escaping as the sobs continued. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight. His head swam, and he felt oh so light headed. Light. He felt light. Happy. He felt alive.

He felt understood.

He- he wanted that! He could- he wanted to live with his friends, with Tubbo with Ranboo. He wanted to stay as friends. He wanted them to protect him, to be able to trust them, to be able to protect them in turn, he wanted to reside with them, he wanted to sleep amongst them, to have them watch over him, safe, he wanted to wake up in the morning and see the sun rise with then, he wanted to have casual dinner with them, he wanted to grow old together with them. As friends. As friends.

Friends.

What a lovely thing…

He could… he could live with his friends…

He could build a family with his friends.

And he didn't even care at that moment that he didn't know how Tubbo and Ranboo would feel about that. He didn't care whether they'd want him at their house, whether they'd want him around at all. He didn't even care, at that moment, if he couldn’t join them.

Because he realized that it was a possibility at all. Just the prospect, just the thought, the realization, that spending your life, being intimate, finding a stable ground, with your friends, not romantic partner, was possible, that it was possible to not be able to feel otherwise, that it was shared by other people, who wrote this song, who sung it, who had thought about it…

It meant he couldn't be that alone after all.

“It's so easy to lie to myself,

And pretend that I could love you, but I can't"

And oh so comforting it was, that he couldn't.

 

***

 

“Ey, Ranboo! Bitchboy!”

Ranboo suppressed a smile, an exasperated sigh hissing through his teeth. Tail swishing, he glanced to the other boy, who was down below, standing in the snow.

“C'mere!! I gotta give you something.” He yelled.

Ranboo raised a brow, but complied, closing the window he had been looking out of. After making a quick detour to check on Michael, he made his way down the stairs and stepped out of the doorway and into the light. Tommy bounded to him, big grin on his face. He seemed jumpier than usual. Ranboo smiled in turn. “what is it?”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, instead going to rummage through his bag. What he took out was a… box? “Here, fuckboy.”

Ranboo winced, taking the container. “Don't call me that.”

“Why, what does it mean?”

Ranboo stared. “Just…. Don't.”

Tommy blinked, laughing nervously. “o-okay.”

Moving on, Ranboo inspected the item in his hands. It was medium sized, and made of simple, but elegant, smooth black wood. On the top, there was a leather sign embedded in it, with the word Beloved stitched into it. His ears flickered. This seemed… awfully nice. “What’s in it?”

Tommy scoffed. “Just open it, you twat.”

Ranboo, with a glance, could see the anxious way Tommy was holding himself, seeming impatient and uncomfortable. So he wasted no more time, and clicked open the surprisingly sturdy iron latch after a moment of struggling, and what awaited him inside was…

“…Discs…?”

Ranboo held his breath, fingers twitching as he held the gift. …was it a gift?

Tommy was staring at the ground. “Yeah. You know, I’ve just been traveling around, collecting, and I wanted to…” He seemed to shake himself lightly, hands wringing. “I wanted to give you some, I guess. That… yeah. These are yours.”

Ranboo was stiff, still perceiving the actual gift in his hands, that looked hand made, that was hand picked, that Tommy had worked to attain, just to give to him. His tail curled, and he carefully, delicately closed it's lid and hugged it close to his chest. “I… Thank you. Thank- O-oh wow…”

Tommy scowled. “You look like a fish. It's not a big deal. Just… take a listen sometime, won't ya?”

“Y-yeah!” Ranboo reverently nodded, cursing the way his eyes felt misty. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll definitely listen, and cherish it. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy curtly nodded. “Alright. Pog.” And then, he was turning around, walking away with a quick “Share it with your family, too, some day. Bye.” Thrown or his shoulder.

And then, he was gone.

 

***

Tubbo heard music down the hall.

Ears tilting towards the pleasant sound, he skipped with bare feet over to the source, evening light casting warm glow through the windows as he went. When he arrived, to what was Michael's bedroom, he found Ranboo on the couch, curled gently over their son, head resting on his little head as he seemed to just… listen, wistful. Michael was listening too, letting out a little yawn as he turned his head to snuggle even deeper into his parent's warm embrace. Tubbo smiled softly at the scene.

Quietly, he patted over to them both, Ranboo eventually noticing him and watching him as he did. Tubbo buried a hand in Ranboo's hair, and the other leaned in. “What are you listening to?”

Ranboo didn't rush to explain, letting the comforting silence fill the space. When he spoke, it reminded Tubbo of soft flower petals and honey. “I didn't know Tommy's music taste was so…”

Tubbo blinked, turning to the disc lazily turning on the jukebox near them.

“-But in the end, I don't really care what you think,

Cause the bottom line is you make me happier than I’ve ever been...”

“wholesome.” He chuckled, fondly.

Tubbo hummed, unsurprised. “Tommy gave you these?”

Ranboo leaned more heavily in the couch. “Yeah. I don't know why, but…”

Tubbo's smile only deepened as he thought. Slowly, he replied, “I think he just wanted to show you he cared.”

Ranboo seemed to lose his breath a little, looking up at the other. “You think so…?”

Tubbo carded his fingers through Ranboo's hair, looking past Ranboo's twitching ears. “Tommy doesn't do things like these without reason. If he gave you something, it’s safe to say you mean a lot to him. He doesn't like to show it, usually, but… that I know.”

Ranboo stared at the turning of the discs, breathing softly. His tail curled around Michael. “Oh.”

Tubbo sat down at his feet and joined in.

Hearts warm, they laid there and listened until the sun had cast it's last rays and the jukebox no longer had a melody to spin.

 

***

 

Tommy sat behind the counter, feet on the counter, just trying to eat his discount chips while some people were being dumb children.

“Stop throwing the fucking food! I'll have to clean this up later!” He whined, to which Tubbo and Ranboo just threw him a glance, Tubbo’s apathetic and Ranboo's at least vaguely guilty, before Tubbo went right back and threw another gummy worm Ranboo's way.

Tommy scowled. “Seriously. At least pick them up and eat them.”

Ranboo made a face of disgust. “I'm not gonna eat candy off the floor, Tommy.”

“Yeah, some of us don't eat mud, Tommy.” Tubbo added.

“There’s no fucking mud here! It's a clean floor! You can totally pick them up and eat them, what the fuck!”

Tubbo raised his brows, staring. “Okay, then go and eat them, trash boy.”

“Okay, that's it.” Tommy raised to his feet, left his chip bag on the table and ran to Tubbo. Tubbo squawked, crawling onto the armchair he was reclining in to curl into a ball around his bag, but Tommy just threw himself onto the armchair with him, trying to reach for the candy. Which, considering the position, it was more like he was half-tickling, half hugging the other more than anything. “Give me that.”

Tubbo just burst out laughing, trying to hide deeper into the couch, attempting to kick the other away. “St-Stoppp!”

“C'mon, you disobeyed my shop's rules, I’m just confiscati-"

Something hit his head. Tommy stilled.

Ranboo peeked from behind his own candy bag, before digging into it again.

Tommy laid off of Tubbo slightly, raising like a puffed up cat. “Ranboo, you fuck!”

Tubbo laughed again, and Tommy was about to go on a murder spree, only for all the commotion to halt when they heard a sudden 4th voice.

Michael.

“Oh shit.”

Ranboo sighed. “He's awake. C'mon.”

Tubbo sighed as well, rolling out of the couch and dragging his feet towards the source of the oinks. “For the record, this is not my fault.”

Both of the other boys gave him the stink eye, but in the name of preserving needed ceasefire they held their tongues.

Michael was sitting up in Tommy's bed that resided in the backrooms, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hiccuping. Tubbo reached for him, lifting him up. “Aww, did we wake you up? I'm sorry, little bossman.”

Michael clutched Tubbo's shirt, muttering something in piglin.

“He's asking what all that noise was.” Tommy quickly translated, before turning his eyes back to the kid and saying something soft in piglin back. Michael listened, seeming to quiet a little.

Ranboo, gathering that it was an affirmation, smiled and took one of Michael's hooves gently. “Yeah, we were just having fun. Do you want to have fun, too, Michael?”

Michael’s big eyes widened, and he wiggled in Tubbo's grip. “Ye! Ye!”

They chuckled, and Tubbo transferred his hold of Michael to Ranboo, who led the way in making it back to the front of the shop, chatting with his son all the while.

Tommy bumped his shoulder with Tubbo's as they walked, but didn't say anything further. Tubbo bit back a grin.

The next hour was spent feeding Michael and letting him listen to some new discs. Tommy even remembered he had some records that were in piglin, some songs, some stories, and put them on, which seemed to enrapture Michael quite a bit, immersed in the new voices and tales and familiarity. The three boys let him sit in Ranboo's lap and get lost in his own world, residing on a couch together and quietly chatting, around them comfortingly dark walls, bookshelves and the smell of wood and candles.

Eventually, the conversation steered.

“You know, Tommy, why don't you join us?”

…huh?

Tommy blinked, willing his breathing to restart and for the words to come. “W-what?”

Tubbo looked at him with warm eyes and a trepidant smile. “Like, how would you feel about coming to Snowchester? Live with us?”

Ranboo waved his hand. “Of course, you don't have to! But we just thought, you know, if you'd like a bit more, uh, company…”

“We want to be with you, is all.” Tubbo added quietly.

Tommy's heart raced, and he only blinked more, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. “B- be with me… are you…” he gulped down the butterflies clogging down his windpipes, still trying to understand that this is real. “are you sure…?”

Ranboo grinned, patting Michael's head idly. The piglin looked up at them. “Yeah! You're family, Tommy, after all.”

Tubbo tilted his head. As Tommy was still struggling to respond, he assured, “You don't have to if you don't want to, big man. No pressure.”

Tommy laughed, weak and breathless, but bright. “No, I-I’d- I'd really want that, but…” he gestured, trying to put his worries to sudden coherent sentences. “wouldn't that be… awkward? Like… you two, just, l-lovebirds," he chuckled clumsily, “and then there's… me, just, there?”

Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, then turned back and laughed. “You won't be a third wheel, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, it's not like we’re really romantic partners, even, it'll be fine.” Ranboo said.

Tommy stilled.

Blinked.

“Uhw- what?”

The other two tensed, Tubbo quickly glancing at his husband before grimacing, thinking deep on how to explain it. “You know, we… we're not really… romantic? We just decided to marry? But we're… not platonic either, it's…”

“I-It's something inbetween. Queerplatonic is the word? I think?”

“It's hard to explain-"

“There's- there's a word for that? And you were- Like. Friends? Living together, this whole time??” Tommy reeled, head in hand.

“Well, not exactly friends, or at least, with how we decide to label our relationship, but… yes?”

“Oh my-" Tommy slumped forwards, now both of his hands holding his head upright, just. Breathing. “Shit. What the fuck. I…” he laughed, wrecked.

Tubbo and Ranboo stared at him, uncomfortable. Tubbo frowned. “Look, if you… if you're gonna say something, I’d rather-"

“No- nono, it's…” he raised his eyes, slowly, like coming out of a cave and into the light. His words tripped upon his tongue, but he was so eager to know. “So you two don't want… romantic partners?”

They blinked. “Not… particularly, no.” Ranboo replied. “…are you okay?”

Tommy laughed. It sounded stilted even to his ears, senses muddled as he was wrapped up in his own head, his own elated feelings, his heart nearly bursting at the seams. “I-I’m not alone.”

Tubbo stared, but then his eyes softened. He sighed, and his smile was immensely gentle, while looking at his friend. “Oh, Tommy…” Ranboo, beside him, wilted the same.

Michael, inbetween them, looked at all three of them silently.

“…Do you want a hug?” Tubbo quietly offered.

Tommy quickly nodded, slumping into Tubbo's side and burying his face in Tubbo's soft hair, not even caring for the way one of his horns poked into his cheek slightly. He held the other, and Tubbo held him. He felt the end of Ranboo's tail drape over his leg.

With a delicate tone and worn vocal chords, he quietly, and simply, admitted. “I'd love that. I'd really love that. Living with you three.”

Tubbo tightened his hold.

That night, Tommy fell asleep not alone, but with his two other closest people, his family. Safe, warm, with that insistent nagging at the back of his chest cavity, that told him he was alone, that he was wrong about himself, that he never even knew himself at all, finally silenced.

He had never felt more at home.

[atlabeth]

transferred part eleven - atla smau

masterlist | part ten | part twelve

there’s a time skip of about a month between this and the last chapter just so u know

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

a/n: i am so sorry this took so long to come out. i’ve been really unmotivated to write in general plus i’ve been super busy with school. i also have been hating everything i write lately i rewrote this like 4 times before i was okay with it lmao. also realizing that i might’ve channeled my stress over school into this chapter. manifesting a tea date w zuko

wc: 1.9k 

warning(s): cursing, pining, some very stressed out college kids, a painfully awkward zuko after a fun realization

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

transferred taglist: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper​ 

“Take all the time you need, I can see that it’s a very busy day.” Your head shot up from below the counter when you heard the voice and a grin broke out on your face. 

“Zuko! What are you doing here?” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as he smiled, which was something that seemed to occur every time you were around him. It wasn’t your fault he had a smile that could make anyone melt. 

“Zuko! What are you doing here?” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as he smiled, which was something that seemed to occur every time you were around him. It wasn’t your fault he had a smile that could make anyone melt. 

“What, am I not allowed to just show up?” He joked as he pulled a chair out from a nearby table and sat down. 

“No, of course you are! This is actually the highlight of my day. It’s just, this is one of your rare days off, so I figured you would wanna spend it doing something better than, uh, coming to the place that you work.” You dropped the towel you had been using to clean on the counter and walked around the register, taking your own seat across from him and crossing one leg over the other. 

“Well.. you sounded really stressed in your texts, so I thought I would pay you a visit. It can’t be easy balancing all of your classes along with this job, and I figured I could try and help with some of that.” 

The grin from before came back and you rested your chin in the palm of your hand. “Zuko, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You didn’t have to come all the way here just to hang out with me when we live together.” 

He seemed taken aback by that, surprisingly so. “How? I mean, you had a boyfriend, right?” Thankfully, you missed him visibly cringing at his choice of words as you looked away and passed it off with a laugh that only sounded slightly strained. 

“Keyword is had. I don’t really wanna get into details, but there’s a reason we broke up.” You opened your mouth to say something else in an attempt of changing to subject to anything that wasn’t your failed love life when you heard a familiar voice behind you. 

“I see that my only working employee is taking a break after her break?” You turned your head in a flash and your eyes widened slightly when you saw it was the one responsible for paying your bills.

“Oh, Iroh! I am so, so sorry. Blame your nephew for distracting me on the clock.” You immediately jumped out of your chair as Iroh came out from the back and he simply shook his head, giving you and Zuko a warm smile. 

“Please, do not worry. This is actually for the two of you.” He set the tray with a teapot and two cups on your table and the calming scent of jasmine immediately washed over you.

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re practically paying me to do nothing right now,” you asked, hesitantly settling back in your seat. 

“I have complete faith that you will be able to handle anything that comes your way — today has been a slow day anyways, so you will be fine.” 

“Don’t even try to stop my uncle once he’s made up his mind about something,” Zuko chuckled. Iroh gave his nephew a knowing look that made him blush as he continued walking towards the door.

“Enjoy your date!” He called as he exited the store. Zuko’s face somehow turned an even brighter shade of red and you bit down the smile growing on your lips. You wouldn’t mind if this was a date, of course, but you knew it wasn’t. It was just one of your best friends coming in to see you to help you wade through the endless sea of stress you had found yourself lost in. Definitely not a date. 

“Y/N?” Zuko’s voice snapped you out of your pondering and you nodded with a small laugh. 

“Sorry, just got lost there for a second.” You picked up the teapot and poured a decent amount into both of your cups. “Y’know, I’ve actually started to like tea since I started working here,” you mused, taking a small sip of your own once you finished. “That might have something to do with the fact that we get a discount, but you’d be amazed at the things I’ve grown to like just because they’re cheap.” 

Zuko responded with a laugh of his own, and from there, conversation flowed easily. You weren’t even aware of how much time had passed as the two of you traded stories — your classes, events from your childhoods, your high school experiences — about anything and everything. Your stress melted away a little bit more with each shared anecdote and cup of tea. 

You found yourself enthralled with everything Zuko said — it wasn’t so much the material as much as the way he just… was. The way his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions, how he tapped his fingers against the ceramic cup when he got excited, and of course, that smile that made you melt. You hung onto every word he said, but you enjoyed him simply being there just as much, if not more. 

And as Zuko watched you talk animatedly, barely able to get through the story you were trying to tell without laughing every other word, he knew that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face. The million dollar smile that lit up every room you walked into and made his heart burst at the seams every time without fail. He wanted you to see yourself the way he saw you, and he would do anything to make you happy. 

It was at that moment that Zuko realized that he was crushing on his best friend’s sister. Hard. 

“Shit,” he muttered. Your story grinded to a halt, exaggerated hand gestures frozen in the air, as you fixed him with a questioning look. 

“Did you say something?”

“No, no— Just- it was nothing. Keep going,” he gave an encouraging smile and nodded for you to continue, which you happily obliged. 

“So, anyways, that was how my lab partner asking a question led to us setting our entire experiment on fire,” you finished with a chuckle. You hit your hands against the table a few times then stood up. “Thank you for this Zuko, really. I wish we could just stay here talking, but I’m not getting paid to do nothing. I gotta get back to work.” 

You waited for a response, but the faraway look in his eyes once again signalled that he wasn’t paying attention. You sighed and snapped your fingers in front of his face, and that seemed to get him out of his stupor. “Hello? Earth to Zuko? 

He blinked a couple times and you let your hand fall to the table, concern flickering across your face for a second. “Sorry! Just.. thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“Classes,” he blurted after a too-long pause. 

You could tell that he was hiding something — throughout your time spent together, you had picked up on how he would always pick at the skin on his right thumb whenever he was nervous — but you didn’t want to push him. 

“I take offense to that, Zuko. You think that your classes are more important than my very entertaining story about my chem lab, I’m just- I’m heartbroken,” you snickered. “I was just telling you that I enjoyed this, and I really appreciate the break, but I actually have to get back to what I’m being paid to do.”

“Right! I, uh- have to get to those.. classes I was talking about.” He laughed nervously and stood up as well, and the two of you bumped heads as you both reached for the tea tray in the middle. 

You let out an exasperated laugh and backed up, rubbing the heel of your hand against your forehead. “Zuko, please! This is my job, let me do this, okay?”

He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, looking like a fish out of water, as he stared at you with wide eyes. You nodded expectantly and raised your eyebrows and he was finally able to get something out. “Uh- right.” 

You chuckled as you picked up the tray and set the cups on it as well, but it was more than a touch concerned. “Is.. everything okay?” You asked, casting a glance back at him once you reached the register again. “Because I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting strange ever since I started talking about chemistry. Do you have a thing against molecules or something?” 

“Oh, no—it’s nothing you did! And I don’t have anything against chemistry,” he laughed. “I just.. I have a lot on my mind.” Zuko paused, letting his words linger in the air and causing more than a few questions to pop up in your head, but he broke the silence before you could ask. “I really enjoyed this, though.”

“Well, if you ever wanna talk about that stuff on your mind, then you know I’m here,” you smiled. “I had a great time too. And honestly, Zuko, you might be the only thing getting me through this week.” 

“Well, I’m happy to be of service,” he said, returning your smile. “Do you need me to pick you up after your shift?”

“That’s so sweet of you, but I can just catch a ride with Jin. She works at the dress shop across the street, and she actually lives pretty close to us!” You saw the slightest glimpse of disappointment flicker through his eyes and you stumbled over your words trying to explain. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company! I mean, obviously I do, we just talked for like, three hours— it’s just she offered, and I didn’t want to say no, plus she’s in my bio class, so I thought it would be good to get to know her—”

“Y/N, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he interrupted with a light laugh. “I don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t trying to get out of it because you didn’t want to make me feel bad or something. I know I’ve told you a million times, but I really don’t mind. You make my mornings brighter.” 

You averted your gaze with a small smile as you felt your cheeks heat up, and you bounced on the balls of your feet. “Cool. I’ll see you when I get home then?” 

“Yeah. Good luck with the rest of your shift, Y/N. I’m glad I could help with some of your stress.” The two of you exchanged waves and then Zuko was on his way. As soon as he left the shop you deflated and leaned against the counter, shaking your head and muttering to yourself. That man didn’t even know the effect he had on you. 

The rest of your shift went by much, much slower than your time with Zuko, but the conversations the two of you had during your break kept buzzing around in your head. And though things had started picking up with customers coming in for their lunch breaks or for a quick tea stop, making a lot of extra work for you, a small smile stayed on your lips for the rest of the day. And it was all thanks to Zuko. 

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Uncle Jimmy

Jimmy Conway x Reader

TW: smut!, light alcohol drinking, Daddy kink, age gap

Word count: 3.2k

"Fuck!" you shout as Tommy sends drink glasses flying, all for the punchline of another one is his jokes. You're at the bar in the restaurant you hung out in every week with all your favorite wise guys; you and your crime family practically own the joint at this point.

As you're using a napkin to dry up some of the champagne that had gotten on your cute black bodycon dress, when you suddenly feel a tall presence behind you, "Watch your mouth, young lady. Good girls don't curse."

Jimmy.

You look at him nonchalantly over your shoulder, "You know I'm 21 now, just like Tommy and Henry, you don't have to take care of me any more..." In fact, Jimmy is well aware that you're 21 now, and it isn't lost on you how all over you he's been.

His hands slide over your sides, pulling you close to him, as he whispers in your ear, "I know you're a grown woman now, but Uncle Jimmy still wants to care of his girl..." He'd never done anything like this before, and it sent shivers down your spine right to your center. Your eyes widen in shock, both at his comment and how your body responded to it.

You quickly push his hands off of you, turning around to face him, "Order me a drink then, if you wanna take care of me so bad." It came out of your mouth before you could even think, and you weren't completely sure what you meant by it, but Jimmy hails the bartender and places an order for something he knows you'd like: the first drink you ever had, a Cherrys Sour.

Back when you were still in high school, Jimmy made it for you one night when you were staying with him, saying how he wanted to "be there for your first drink, your first REAL drink, because I'm the uncle that'll let you get away with it."

When the bartender drops your drink off, Jimmy picks it up and holds it a few inches from your face. He plucks the cherry off the rim, and although he's tempted to steal it, he places it gently against your lips, appreciating the way the bright red fruit looks against your pouty bottom lip and the way your tongue flicks out to pull it into your mouth and popping it off its stem.

After that, he couldn't help himself. He places a hand on your cheek and the glass to your lips, making you take a sip of your drink. You close your eyes, nose wrinkling a bit as the liquid coats your taste buds.

"Just like the first time..." Jimmy reminisces, "How's that for being taken care of, darlin'?" You slip the drink out of Jimmy's hand and simply give him a look, trying to be pouty, but the man could tell you liked it.

Jimmy ordered himself the same drink; he just loves cherries, and he leaves you for a little while to go greet a few people, including your dad...

But he isn't gone for long, before he saunters up behind you again, setting his empty glass and placing his hands on the bar on either side of you, trapping you in.

"Jimmy..." you whine, looking down at the bar, but he can't see the smile on your face.

"(Y/N)..." he mimics you. He gently and slowly touches his chest to your back, and combs your hair away from your neck, placing a few soft kisses there.

"Jimmy," you breath heavily, "my dad is here..."

"Well then we better get out of here before he sees us," he leaves a little kiss on the shell of your ear, as he presses the beginnings of his arousal against your backside.

"Ooo-ooooh!!! Looks like Uncle Jimmy noticed our little (Y/N) is all grown up!" Henry hollers down the bar.

"Maybe he wants to be her Daddy Jimmy now! God knows he's old enough to be!" Tommy cuts in.

The place is filled with laughter, and simultaneously, you and Jimmy cut looks that could kill at Tommy and Henry. Jimmy makes a move to storm over to them but you grab his hand, holding him back. "You're just jealous Uncle Jimmy never loved you as much as he loves me," you throw over your shoulder as you drag Jimmy out of the restaurant, laughing as soon as the cool night air hits your faces.

Through his laughter, Jimmy unlocks the passenger door of his car, pushing you in and sliding in after you. With you at the wheel, he cranks up the car and says, "Why don't you take us somewhere, baby girl?"

Things go quiet for a moment, then a big smile spreads across your face. You don't get to drive much, and he knows how much you love to.

"You aren't drunk or anything, are you?" he whispers, always checking on you.

"No, I just had the one drink you got me," you answer.

"Good good, you know I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you," he kisses your cheek and pats your thigh, indicating that you should drive now.

You weren't sure where to go, so you just drove to this little park that took up just a block. There are some swings and a jungle gym, but also some trees and grass and benches. You didn't know what Jimmy would think but you thought it might be romantic.

He chuckles as you stop the car, "You want Uncle Jimmy to take you to the park?"

"Hmmm, I think you meant 'Daddy'" you say, mocking Tommy.

He lets out a little grunt and places a hand on your cheek, wiping his thumb across your bottom lip, "Watch your mouth, I'm warning you..."

"But... That's not even a curse word," you say, but then it clicks in your head. You decide to store that information away for later, and you both get out the car.

You quickly discover the fence to the park is locked, but that kind of thing never stopped you and Jimmy before. You slip off your heels, handing them to the man next to you, and start climbing the fence.

"Hey! Be careful!!" He shouts, but you were already over the other side before he could stop you... and he wasn't really sure how you climbed the fence in a dress that tight.

He takes your shoes over to the car, tossing them in the back seat and pulling out a blanket, probably there so he could wrap a body if he needed to, but he figured you could use it to sit on the grass.

He throws it over the fence to you before fumbling over the thing himself; he was much more graceful about it when he had a cop after him.

Inside the park, you stroll around for a while, getting used to Jimmy being all sweet on you like this. You liked it, but he had always been your Uncle Jimmy, so it's a little weird at first.

You walk over to the swings, plopping down in one. Jimmy stands behind you, gently pushing and pulling the chains back and forth. You look back at him and you both share a giggle as he starts pushing you harder, really getting the swing to go. Your giggles grow into hysterical laughter as you fly through the air.

Jimmy leaves you to your own devices to swing as long as you'd like, while he sits on the swing next to yours and pulls out a cigarette, smiling from ear to ear as he watches you.

As your swing slows down, you pluck the cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag on it. He quickly gets it back, saying, "Hey! That's not good for you, baby," in a serious tone.

"It's not good for you either..." you say as your swing comes to a halt.

"Yeah, well. Do as I say, not as I do." Jimmy says, pulling your swing over to his. There's a pause for a moment before he changes the subject, "I'm gonna kiss you now. Are you gonna let me?"

"Why don't you try it and see?" you tease him.

With that, he pulls you off of your swing and onto his lap, holding your waist as his lips meet yours in an open mouthed kiss that can only be described as electric. Jimmy didn't do anything half-assed, especially kissing you. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and you hold his cheeks in your hands as you make out.

He sucks his bottom lip into your mouth, giving it a delightful little nibble that makes you squirm. Your hands move to squeeze at his sides while you desperately kiss one another, both realizing you'd wanted each other much longer than you thought. His hands grab your hips and lift you up so he can stand and wrap your legs around his waist; his lips never leaving yours. He walks a few steps over to the grass and sinks to his knees, laying you down in the damp but soft grass. He grips at your thigh, hard; it'll probably leave little bruises where his fingertips are.

You let out a little whine and he realizes he's hurting you, "I'm sorry, honey."

"It's okay..." you breathe out, "Daddy..."

You watch as he gets a lust blown look in his eyes from your use of that word, and his lips slam back into yours. He starts grinding his hardness against you, "Say it again," he mumbles through attacking your lips.

"Mmm!" you push him of you a little, making him stop and look in your eyes, "Daddy."

His eyes are practically begging you, for what you aren't sure, but he lowers his head and softly kisses at your decolletage. Your fingers grace over his head, threatening to mess up his gelled hair. As his lips give attention to the top of your breasts, Jimmy's voice pipes up, "(Y/N)," his eyes look up at you, "Let me make love to you."

"Jimmy..."

His hand creeps up, intertwining your fingers with his and pinning your hand to the ground. His face meets yours with another fiery kiss.

"Jimmy," you moan against his lips, "What if we get caught?"

"Well, it could be kind of exciting if we get caught," he presses a kiss to your earlobe.

"I mean, by the cops... What if we get in trouble?"

"Listen to yourself, princess, when did you ever care about getting in trouble? Besides, fuck the cops," Jimmy argues still kissing at your neck, and he does have a point.

You push Jimmy up and he sits back on his knees. You get up and sit in front of Jimmy, except you turn your back to him, then you brush your hair to one side to the front side of your shoulder.

"Okay," you say.

"Hm?" Jimmy asks.

"James Conway, unzip my dress right now, or I swear to God, you won't get another chance to for the rest of your life!"

Zip! You feel your dress loosen immediately. His hands roam your back as he scoots closer to you. His fingertips glide over your silky smooth skin while sliding the little dress straps off your shoulders.

"When a pretty lady like you talks, I listen," his voice is lower than it was before.

You chuckle and lean back into him as the top part of your dress falls around your waist and Jimmy's hands explore your bra. You hear his breathing get a little heavier just from looking at you without a top on.

You turn around and start to lay back down on the grass. "Wait-" Jimmy starts, "Let me go grab that blanket."

"You afraid of getting a little dirty, Daddy?" you say in your sexiest voice. It's funny how you can visually see Jimmy short circuit a for minute every time you call him that. He snaps back to reality and jumps up, "I'll be right back!"

He quickly returns to lay the blanket on the ground for you, before grabbing you and gently laying you down with it. You slide your dress off your legs, and Jimmy can hardly think straight seeing you in your lacy black underwear.

"Are you just gonna stand there, big man? A little girl like me got your wires all crossed?" you joke at him.

Jimmy simply responds by taking off his jacket and tie, and getting on his knees between your legs again. You sit up and unbutton his shirt, quickly discarding it and finally feeling the warm skin of his torso. You look up and give him a teasing look before unlatching his belt, sloooowly. He's completely breathless at the way you've taken charge of the situation; you'd always been a little girl in his eyes.

Almost as if you'd been reading his mind, you say, "If I'm gonna call you Daddy, you better start acting like one, hm?" You raise your eyebrows at the last part as if you were expecting something of him.

He exhales and crawls on top of you, "You're so right... God damn it, you just look so good!" He roughly kisses you and pins your wrists down to the ground above your head, "But now I'm gonna make you mine."

You're left gasping as Jimmy moved to your neck, leaving his mark on you. Everyone would know he had had you when they see those hickies on your neck, and that thought- that thought drove Jimmy wild.

He releases your hands as he works his way down your body with his kisses and sucks on every inch of your skin. He pops back up on his knees and works his pants off, and he looks around to make sure no one is walking by around the park. "Want me to lose these, baby doll?" he asks, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"You know I do," you giggle at him.

He groans happily, "You sure you're ready to see your Uncle Jimmy naked?"

You sit up and stroke his hard length as it strains against the fabric, "I thought you were my Daddy now... You must not want me to call you that if you keep forgetting..." You pretend to pout at him.

He takes you by surprise, grabbing your throat and shaking you a bit, "Daddy didn't forget."

You give him an excited smile, and he removes his underwear, stroking himself for you. He grabs your legs and shoves them straight up in the air, giving your ass a solid smack before pulling your panties down.

"Oh, baby," he lays himself on top of you, rubbing his hardness against your clit, "You look beautiful, and you're already so wet without me even touching you... You think you're ready to take me?"

You nod your head, "Mhmm."

"Say it," he demands.

"Say what?"

"You know what I want, princess. Now, say it."

You look up at him with doe eyes, appreciating his muscles as he towers over you, "I want you, Daddy... Take me please, Daddy, I'm ready!"

"Mmmm, God, baby girl, you beg so good," he praises as he presses the head of his cock into you.

You let out a soft, breathy groan as you feel him fill you up. The noises Jimmy makes as he starts to move in you--it's as if he feels relief mixed with absolute pleasure. He moves slowly at first, rocking his whole body gently back and forth, as he kisses the side of your face.

Your little breaths mixed with moans and gasps only turns Jimmy on further; he wants to make you make more of those noises. He shifts his weight onto one elbow, and with his free hand, grabs your hand to bring it to his face. He stares deeply into your eyes as he kisses your knuckles.

Jimmy enjoys your fingers playing with his hair, and he really enjoys it when you give it a harsh tug as he hits a sweet spot inside you. You inhale sharply, "Daddy!!!"

"Yeah, baby? Is that the spot?"

"Uh-huhhh," you whine loudly. You reach down to play with yourself, but your hand is met with a sudden slap.

"No. That's Daddy's job." Jimmy quickly replaces your hand with his, rubbing circles on your clit. His hip movements speed up, and he only takes his hand off of you to pull your bra down off your shoulders before forcefully ripping it and throwing it aside. As his hand returns to your clit, his mouth explores your breasts, sucking on your nipples and leaving more love bites.

How he could do three things at once is beyond you, but it is leading you to your orgasm. When you reach your end, Jimmy shoves two fingers deep in your mouth, muffling the loud noises you would've made. He wouldn't want anyone to hear after all...

Wasting no time, he sits up and pulls your legs up again, hooking them on his shoulders as he fucks into your as fast as he can. You still hadn't fully come down from your orgasm, so your legs shake violently as he slams your g-spot.

"(Y/N)..." Jimmy says weakly, eyes closed tightly in pleasure. He's close.

"Cum for me, Daddy."

"Fuck!" he groans as his hips grow erratic.

"Daddyyy... Cum for me," you beg.

You can hardly finish your sentence before he pulls out, stroking himself as his seed spurts in ribbons across your belly, yet again marking you as belonging to him. His breathing comes out in the form of needy moans as he finishes.

He takes a moment to collect himself as he shakes his member, making sure he got every drop onto you. "You look good with Daddy's cum on you," he pants, grabbing the blanket to wipe it off before it gets sticky in the cool night breeze, "You're 𝘮𝘺 girl now. All mine." He lays next to you, pulling you into him for cuddles.

"Yes sir, Daddy," you look up, rubbing your hands on his chest.

"Good girl; you're such a good girl," he whispers the next part, "and you mean so much to me." He gives a series of soft, sweet kisses.

"Hey! What do you two think you're doing?!" You hear someone shout from outside the park fence. A cop.

Jimmy pops his head up and scopes the guy out, "Fred?" One of the cops Jimmy pays off.

"Jimmy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, what are you doing working nights?"

"Oh, uh, my wife and I have a baby on the way and the force doesn't pay that well. I picked up more hours. But you two go on with whatever you're doing, I didn't see a thing, Mr. Conway," the cop saunters off, leaving your alone.

"That's the other reason I wasn't worried about the cops," Jimmy chuckles to you.

After that, you found yourself in Jimmy's bed as often as possible, and that cop found himself at home with his wife more often, having a much needed pay raise.