#leave poor tommy alone?

[inklessletter]

Happens after gym class. Eddie was held back, and the new gym coach is warned against the obscene numbers of excuses Munson handed over the last one to skip class, so this time, he actually has to go an do shit.

Fucking hates it.

First class of the year comes, and Eddie just tries his best to not engage with the new kids. Former class was a nest of assholes, and that was part of the reason he hated going in there. Hasn't got time to overthink because the coach is in the middle of the basketball court and makes them run thirty laps.

Eddie's sure he's dying at the ninth.

And it's mortifying being eighteen and in such poor shape he can't even run for a few minutes.

He's about to faint, and he knows he's not even running right because his feet don't respond how his brain wants them to. It's the fifteenth lap yet.

Eddie is dying, he's swearing he's going to quit smoking after this shit, when he feels a tap of a hand next to him.

Great, first asshole was taking to long to make fun of him.

It's Harrington.

"Hey, man" he says, and he's carrying himself with a fine layer of sweat that makes him look even good. "Get upright, come on, you're going to kiss the floor if you keep running like that."

"Leave me... a... alone..." Eddie says. Or tries to.

"Just run with me, slow your pace," Steve says. "Just like this. One, two. One, two. One, two."

And maybe it's because those are his last moments of his short life, but he actually decides to do as he's told. Eddie straightens his back and takes a deep breath and focuses on his feet, following the rhythm. One, two. One, two. One, two.

"That's good, keep going, just like that," Steve praises.

And it's fucking odd, and suspicious as fuck that Harrington is being nice to him.

Eddie thinks that maybe Harrington is avoiding Tommy H for whatever reason. Last year they were together all the time, but this year Hargrove seemed to have captured his attention.

Eddie also thinks Harrington is going to ditch Eddie once he doesn't look pathetic, but actually sticks with him the rest of the laps, and the last five he actually is looking like a mess too, but has some breath left for encouraging Eddie, who is deliberately not responding verbally because air is precious.

Then they finish the tirtieth lap and Eddie's knees barely work until he finds a spot to sit and never, ever stand up. His lungs are burning, and his vision is all blurry. He's hot, and sweaty, and fucking disgusting.

Steve is there again, offering some water.

Eddie takes it, and Steve just nods with his head and goes away to the showers.

With the last bit of strength his muscles has stored, Eddie stands up and goes to the showers. He need one SO. FUCKING. MUCH.

The kids are loud and there's a general vibe of complaining and Eddie has no meaning to finish soon to get to class right away.

Fuck next class, he's toast.

There's barely five or six of them still in the locker room when he can breathe almost normally again (his lungs still hurt) when he starts to undress.

Harrington is just going out of the showers, towel around his middle when Eddie is... well. Almost fully naked.

For a reason he's so not going to analyze, he feels a wave of heat going up to make nest in his cheeks. He tries not to stare when Steve takes off the towel, not looking at him twice.

He observes, and thinks that maybe needs to say thanks or something nice for helping him out back there. Anything, actually. But he's there. Staring. Frozen.

Harrington is... well. That. He's been that since a few years ago. They have never interacted before, so him being that was never a problem until he stands there, fully naked in front of him.

Who's also naked.

Steve is dressing, and he's not looking at Eddie, but Eddie, who's looking with no trace of discretion, sees him smiling while he's tying his Nikes.

"You've got no shame, man," Steve says, and then looks at him fully. He's putting his polo on and then working on his belt while looking at Eddie in the eye. "See something you like?"

"Uh... Ah... I'm not-"

Steve's eyes just go south on Eddie's body, and then back up, smirking.

Eddie is suddenly hyper aware that he's hard. Hadn't even noticed. He's got no time to feel ashamed when he feels a dry towel crashing against his face. He grabs it, and looks at Steve, trying to... to what? Apologize?

Steve is smiling when he closes his locker, takes the duffel bag and leaves the room.

"For your modesty, dude."

--

@lawrencebshoggoth

[slasherx]

Thomas Hewitt relationship HC's

Content: Thomas Hewtt x gn!Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, manipulation from Hoyt, possessive and jealous behavior, brief mention of sex but no actual NSFW, so 17+

Notes: My first slasher fic! Pls be nice, it's my first time writing for our boy Tommy

Lets skip over meeting him for now. If anyone wants to know how I think Thomas would meet and fall in love with his S/O, just shoot me a request!

Thomas would be very cautious at first. Not because he doesn't trust you, nono, he'd HAVE to trust you before getting in a relationship first

He's cautious because he doesn't know how to control his strength around you, and doesn't want to cross a line. You're his first and likely his only partner in life, so he doesn't want to lose you

Thats another thing - he's super scared that you'll end up seeing how much better you can do and leave him. If not for how ugly he thinks he looks, then for the fact that his family are cannibals.

This leads him to be very jealous and possessive. If another man comes near you, he's behind you in an instant if he can be, glaring them down and practically tearing them apart with his eyes

If he finds you flirting with another man, he'll be angry with you beyond belief. Would probably give you the silent treatment for a week, and he's already mute, so that's saying something (I tease)

Probably wouldn't be super touchy, he's been hit his whole life, and I believe the Hewitt's would use physical disciplinary methods growing up, which means Tommy would've most likely been hit by his family too. Nowhere is safe for this poor man

He wouldn't mind if you were touchy though, it would just take him a while to get used to it

He doesn't mind if you don't get along with Monty or Charlie, that's kind of a given, especially if you're a woman or fem presenting, but he wants you to get along with his mother so BADLY

He definitely would not say "I love you" first, he would wait for you to say it, even though he'd most likely fall in love with you first

He'd do anything for you. He'd kill for you, beat someone for you, talk shit about someone for you, etc. He'd basically drop anything for you. Aside from his family, you are his first priority.

This can lead to fights between you and Hoyt. Hoyt doesn't think Tommy should be loyal to "a good for nothing slut like you" above certain members of his family, since you're technically still an outsider

Tommy will butt into these arguments and have your back, but the first time this happened, Hoyt had managed to get into his head and make him doubt you. Yeah, safe to say that never happened again

Tommy wouldn't feel comfortable sharing a room until you were farther into your relationship, and it would take even longer for him to take off his mask around you

When he does finally take his mask off around you, he expects you to yell and scream, to call him ugly. But when you don't, and you even call him handsome? Oh he is melting into the floor

That's when he starts to develop an unhealthy obsession with you. He was in love with you before, but now that he's shown his rawest form to you and you still loved him above all else? Oh he's in LOVE love

He refuses to leave you alone, and this is probably around the time you guys first have sex. He wanted to wait until you were married like his Mama asked, but he just couldn't help himself.

This is getting kinda long, so if you guys want a part two or something, be sure to request!

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn’t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn’t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, her lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

Master list

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[soullumii]

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you. 

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what. 

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool. 

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry. 

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.  

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves. 

Alone. 

In the dark. 

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place. 

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.” 

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks. 

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now. 

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are. 

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin. 

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.” 

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.” 

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic. 

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point. 

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.” 

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you. 

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips. 

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum. 

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation? 

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.” 

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.” 

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear. 

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome. 

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer. 

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say. 

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead. 

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch. 

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.” 

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.” 

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again. 

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.” 

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers. 

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper. 

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing. 

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night. 

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. 

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth. 

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs. 

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan. 

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy. 

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall. 

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God… 

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...” 

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure. 

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole. 

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends. 

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Bt headcannon:

The rest of the 118 don’t actually tell Buck about the story of Maurice the chicken, because it’s more funny to vaguely allude to it and watch Tommy sweat.

Bobby will serve a roast chicken for a family dinner and Chim will say ‘that kind of reminds me about that time with Maurice-‘ and Tommy will beg Chim with only his eyes to leave it alone because, miraculously, Buck still thinks he’s cool and Tommy would like it to stay that way, thank you. ‘So Chim will smirk and back down. One time Buck will be boasting about Tommy and how he isn’t afraid of anything and Hen will say ‘you should ask him what Maurice thinks of that’, so that night Buck asks Tommy and Tommy just says, ‘Maurice doesn’t have a say in the matter’ and moves the conversation along as quickly as possible.

And then one night Buck’s working up to say something and Tommy can see that he’s kind of nervous and jumpy but Tommy just takes his time and waits for Buck to be ready. And Buck, who is trying to be very chill and mature, looks up at him and says ‘Is Maurice your ex?’.

And Tommy curses everyone at the 118 because he has to explain to his poor boyfriend that no, people aren’t teasing Buck about an ex of Tommy’s, they are just brutally terrorising Tommy with a story about one of the most embarrassing and unattractive incidents of his past.

I'M LAUGHING SO HARD 🤣🤣😂🤣 and yes it's so true and I love it so much!!!!!!!

And last part about Buck thinking it's about ex is so canon Buck

Talk to me about bucktommy, Buck or Tommy HCs please. Madney too if you want

[peppermintquartz]

some possible midseason bucktommy angst:

Tommy gets into an accident at work partially because he got a little cocky. He's okay, but Buck finds himself overwhelmed (he doesn't fall to pieces, not until Tommy's safe, and then he just crumples at home alone in the loft) by what could have been, and the fact that Buck would not have been anywhere close enough to try to save him, not like he was able to save Christopher and Eddie when they were in danger.

So he tells Tommy he wants to break up (so that neither of them will have to feel the worst kind of heartbreak).

It kinda blindsides Tommy, who naturally assumes the worst, and he tries to get Buck to tell him why but Buck just says "It's not you, it's me" and then he clams up and avoids him.

Over the next two, three episodes we hear voicemails that Buck doesn't delete but never replies to, sees some texts, and Tommy finally comes to the station but Buck hides from him until a job rolls in, and Buck quickly goes out to work, pretending he doesn't see Tommy's devastated expression.

Unfortunately in the meantime the people who can talk sense into Buck are occupied with their own shit - Hen and Karen with the councilwoman, Eddie with being on his own in his adult life for the first time in forever and discovering himself, Bobby not at the station and not really able to observe Buck, Chimney and Maddie having some trouble with their daughter maybe (not that I want harm to come to Jee-yun but she's so cute, so something will, if my writer's instincts are correct).

Then Tommy accidentally sees Buck and Eddie hugging and thinks that Buck got together with Eddie and gets super jealous. Tommy asks Eddie out for a spar but doesn't ask Eddie anything about the hug, he just keeps fighting and not pulling his punches or kicks, and finally when it gets too heated and they're pulled apart, Tommy spits out that he isn't ever giving up on getting Evan back. Then Eddie realizes what happened and he clarifies matters with Tommy.

Then Eddie is on Tommy's side to get Buck and Tommy to reconcile. Then Buck is hurt quite seriously because of poor leadership and Tommy almost assaults Gerard after he rescues Buck; he's stopped only because Chimney and Athena and Eddie hold him back.

He rushes to the hospital, but Buck doesn't want to see him. Tommy is beyond frustrated, because he doesn't know what he did wrong, and he wants to make it right, and he begs Maddie and Chimney to help. Maddie goes in and sits with her brother, who finally confesses that he's really afraid that if he'll loses Tommy while they're together, he won't be able to take it.

"I live with that thought every day," Maddie tells him, stern and wise and kind. "And I have two of you to worry about. Every time you and Chim are at work, my heart is with you. Should I leave Chimney then, because he might die on the job?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then why are you doing this to Tommy?" Maddie is very gentle and she kisses the top of her little brother's head. "I'm gonna let him in, and you're going to talk this out with him, ok?"

Tommy comes into the ward, Buck takes his hand, and they finally have some time alone.

"I thought you'd thrown me over for Eddie," Tommy admits. "I know you two are close."

"I was just afraid I'd lose you and not be able to save you," Buck says. "I didn't want you to feel how I felt that day. I thought I could protect you from that pain."

"We won't have to worry for a bit, seeing how you're in hospital and I, uh, I may be suspended for threatening to assault a captain."

"You did that? For me?"

Then it's them saying sorry for being stupid and then making up, and that's when Tommy says, "I love you, Evan Buckley, and nothing will keep me safer than knowing I have you to come home to."

So that's how they split and reconcile and how Tommy gets to say 'I love you' first

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hello! May I request a headcanon for how Tommy Shelby would pine/crush over a reader maybe one who has rejected him in the past because she worked for him or because she wants to keep their relationship as friends/professional! (Since you’re writing you can make the scenario as to why she said no whatever you like) but truly i’d just love to see a headcanon on him falling in love and longing for someone who he can’t have so easily :)

Imagine Rejecting: Thomas Shelby

Tommy x fem!reader

Trope: Right person, wrong time. Warnings: Angst, pining, toxic romantic tendencies, infidelity.

You worked under him as Lizzie's replacement as his secretary, you saw his books and you knew the red on his suit collar wasn't always lipstick. You went with him almost everywhere, memorized his schedule, and completed small tasks that often caused him headaches. Long hours in the office stopped feeling so lonely. And that's where the trouble started.

When he found himself growing fond of you, he tried to fight it. He really did. But feelings grow over time and before he knew it, he started to see you as a partner. At first, he told himself that you reminded him of Grace. It was easier to tell himself that he was projecting her image onto you. However, there came a point where he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

His eyes would follow you as you left a room. His head would turn upon hearing your voice. The smell of your perfume was enough to give him pause at times. When he was at home, he would sometimes go into his office to call you from your desk in Birmingham. Just to have a conversation, even if it was to go over a detail for a meeting he "forgot."

Tommy confessed his feelings to you one late night at the Midland Hotel. You sat with him at the hotel bar, not a soul around except for the two of you and half a bottle of whiskey. Maybe is was the whiskey that did it, but he took your hand and said: "I've been trying to think of what to do about you. The things that you make me want to feel, make me want to do. It shouldn't be this way, but it is. I want you."

You slowly took your hand from him, and stood. The look in your eyes was enough to make him sober. Quietly, you gave your reply, "I'm going to call for two cars to take us home. I'll see you Monday morning, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas Shelby is not unused to rejection. It hasn't bothered him in years. With you, however, it's different. You aren't a political rival, a gang leader, or a position he's being blocked from obtaining. You are a person. A woman who has denied him access to your heart.

That is very, very different.

Not to mention a blow to his ego. Tommy knows he's attractive, and he knows that most of the women he interacts with are more than a little interested in him. Ladies from poor families see a man that can provide. Ladies from wealthy families see a man of danger that can make them feel alive. You didn't seem to fall into either category. You didn't seem to need him the way most people did.

He wouldn't discuss that night at the Midland with you for several months. When it finally did get addressed, you seemed surprised. Had you assumed he was drunk? It hardly mattered. You tried to turn him down, again "We can't, Tommy."

"Of course we can."

You scoffed, "We shouldn't. You have a wife and two children, and I am merely your employee."

Tommy got closer to you, his eyes caught between staring at your rosy painted lips and the look in your eyes. His fingertips gazed your wrist. It would be so easy to just kiss you. To take you into his arms and just hold you. Did you truly not want him? As he stared you down, the answer was found in the tears that welled in your eyes. No, you were just as sick in the heart as he was.

"Lizzie understands. Or marriage is a partnership, nothing more. We can be as we like, she wants nothing to do with it," Tommy takes your chin in between his thumb and index finger. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave you alone. Tell me that."

Tears stained by your dark mascara roll down your cheeks, a shudder runs through you. "Tommy," you sigh "that's precisely why I'll never give in. I can't live my life as your whore. It's almost as cruel as being your wife."

He let you go. You took two steps back, then left him there. As the door to his office slammed shut, Tommy almost chased after you. But, he didn't. Because you were right.

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt bbut a Karen makes their S/O cry? :0

It's the readers first ever encounter with one in the wild and at first Y/N just,,, tries to ignore the woman/leave but the Karen does the usual of not letting em leave and then Y/N gets overwhelmed and starts crying?-

BAHAHHAAB I LOVE FUCKING WRITINF ABOUT KARENS I CANNOT LMFAOOOOOO ; thank you for the request lol ; I got a random strike of writers block halfway through and its very obvious I'm sorry

MCYT ; wild karen encounter

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, iterations of homophobia/transphobia & fatphobia, Karen activity, reader is described as nonbinary

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you two went different ways while clothes shopping and you were looking at more fem/masc (whichever doesn't conform with your sex) clothing

you felt someone glaring daggers at you so you glanced up and saw some random ass woman staring at you, accompanied by her 13ish year old son

she started making remarks about how you shouldn't be looking at those clothes and it's not "modest" for a little young man/woman like you

like mf you're nonbinary huh

you try to ignore her, meanwhile her son looks SO uncomfortable and wants to very obviously leave

she starts recording you out of no where to call you slurs and the sons just like "mom stop" and of course she doesn't

you end up crying and trying to hide it while you defend yourself but you get quickly overstimulated and flustered

the yelling caught Tommy's attention so he quickly walks over like "woah, woah, woah, what's going on?"

and she starts SCREAMING at poor Tommy about you

he looks at you literally wiping your tears while she's STILL recording it and he just peacefully flames her ass

"it doesn't matter what the hell they wear, clothes don't have gender and I could care less about what my partner buys and wears and how they express themselves. go post that to Facebook and look like a fuckin' idiot."

he pulls you away to the changing rooms so you can talk in private and eventually try on the clothes you were looking for

while he was going that he got a hold of a nearby security officer and told them about the situation since you'd both been illegally recorded on the premises of the store

he didn't wanna press charges for you or anything but at least wanted the woman escorted out to look more like a dumbass, considering the security guard had to call the police because what she did was a crime

couple days later you found the video and bodycam footage of the woman being detained and arrested for resisting arrest and recording someone without consent on private property, which is marked as a felony where you live

live laugh love Tommy bc everyone in the video description was hyping him up and saying how bad they felt for you and even the son 🫶

RANBOO

dude you can't even go grocery shopping without people bitching about you guys

you were just trying to pick out some chips and this lady walks past with a scoff

ran quickly turns around like, "Sorry, can we help you?"

she quickly starts yelling about how you gay people are all going to hell and shit

ranboo quickly spits back but you get overstimulated and really take it to heart and you tear up a bit

the lady notices and points it out

she then follows you around the store, yelling at you and shit while they're on the phone dialing the non emergency police line because wtf is wrong w this lady???

before you're questioned and after she's detained, you guys stand alone and try to calm yourself down because you were just getting really stressed about it because wtf do you even do in that situation

gives you a big hug and reassures you that it's okay to cry

he's generally just proud of you in general for being able to hold yourself together for the most part

FREDDIE BADLINU

you two were going out for a little movie date, and dressed in tuxedos to watch Saw X

some dumbass dude was making snarky comments to his wife about you two considering you were holding hands while ordering snacks

Freddie turns around, having heard the guy talking about you thinking he dropped something "can I help you?" He asks in the nicest tone possible

the man and his wife both start making nasty comments about "this generation going to hell" and how you're brainwashing Freddie or something???

you almost immediately start crying because you're trying to ignore it and talk to the girl behind the counter filling your popcorn bucket who doesn't know what to do

she quickly pushes the security button under the counter because she can see your distress and how Freddie was just like stunned as he looked between the couple and you cause like wth

once they're escorted out you're the first in the theater so you guys sit there and talk it all out because you got really overwhelmed

he gives you a hug and reassures you that you did nothing wrong and you're gonna enjoy the movie

the dude had a warrant out for his arrest for not paying child support anyways L

NIKI NIHACHU

you two were out on a walk in a park holding hands and shit and passed this little family down by the creek

the mom just goes full fucking demon mode and starts recording you guys and shouting at you

niki quickly retaliated with a "leave us alone!" before walking off

you were visibly pretty shaken but she reassures you everything is okay and she probably wasn't even recording

she ends up finding the video a few days later

thankfully all the comments were supporting you two and flaming the lady's ass lmao

QUACKITY

you guys were out doing stuff (getting shit at home depot for quackitys new house and peojects) and some Karen was judging your abilities to handy-man basically

"actually, my partner is the best handyman I know! so shut the fuck up"

the Karen immediately goes to the front to get a manager or some shit

meanwhile yall quickly checkout and leave

while leaving you see her getting detained for resisting an officer with violence and threatening an officer 🥰

that becomes a story you tell at every single "family reunion" (meetup with friends)

he still boasts about yelling at someone like that

FOOLISH GAMERS

you guys were out getting snacks for a movie night with friends that were staying over

some Karen made a comment how you needed to go on a diet or some shit since you were the one carrying the basket full of unhealthy snacks

foolish quickly whips around and flames her ass

you just kinda stand there like "wtf"

foolish slings an arm around your shoulders and leads you away since she wouldn't stop blabbering and was threatening to call the cops for some reason

back in the car he reassures you that you do not need to go on a diet and you don't need to listen to the lady whatsoever

movie night was 10/10 you watched Barbie & roasted Saltburn bc that movie wasn't good like at all

[bonezone44]

Pretty Is As Pretty Does (18+)

Uncle!Ezra x F!Reader x Uncle!Tommy

Summary: The best part about Uncle!Ezra and Uncle!Tommy is that they always smile when you walk in.

Word Count: 2883

tags: spitroast, double creampie, praise kink, southern accents, being called 'pretty', two men talking about you as if you aren't there. nicknames for Reader: angel, niece, baby, honey, sugar.

------------

It's late at night and you can't sleep. Been tossing and turning for what feels like hours. You finally decide to get out of bed and do something, anything, rather than lie there counting endless sheep.

You make your way to the kitchen with sleepy bare footsteps. You hear murmuring out the back door--deep, smooth voices and soft laughter. You figure Ezra has a friend over. You bite your lip. You want Ezra to yourself for some quality time. Maybe if you let him know you're up, he'll send his friend home. It's worth a shot anyway. You've got nothing better to do.

When you step out onto the screened in back porch, you see Ezra reclining in one chair and his friend in the other. Theyre silhouetted by the blue light of a bug zapper hanging in the corner. It's been a hot summer, but tonight the air is cooler and drier than it has been in weeks. The wood floors creak as you step further onto the porch and both men go quiet and turn to you.

"Hey, angel," says Ezra with a wry smile on his face. "What're you doin up this late?"

"Can't sleep," you answer with a shrug.

"Aww, you poor thing." He holds his hand out towards you. "Me and Uncle Tommy are out here shootin the shit. Why don't you come sit with us for a while?"

That's when your whole body goes hot. You look over and realize it wasn't just any of Ezra’s friends. It was Tommy. And Tommy’s got a nice little smile on his face, too, as his eyes rake over you in your pajamas and bare feet.

" Damn, girl," says Tommy. "You get prettier and prettier every time I see you."

Your cheeks burn and you fidget. "I don't know about that--"

"Shit, I do. I bet you gotta beat them boys off you with a stick."

You wave him off. "No way."

"Aww, look at her bein shy," says Ezra, turning further toward you in his chair. "There is no need to be so timid around your uncles, angel."

"That's right, honey," says Tommy. "It's just us. You don't gotta worry bout nothin around us." He smiles. "We'll keep you safe from all them boys out there. We'll have 'em runnin off. Don't you worry about that."

You roll your eyes with a smile.

"What? You don't believe us?" asks Ezra with big, puppy dog lookin' eyes.

You shake your head. "Y'all are just sayin stuff."

"Oh, c'mere, honey," says Tommy as he reaches out and grabs your hand. "Why don't you come sit by Uncle Tommy and let him show you how pretty he thinks you are?"

Tommy's one of the most handsomest men you've ever seen in your entire life. He's got beautiful wavy hair that curls beneath his ears. His voice is so smooth and syrupy compared to Ezra's deep rasp. He's always wearing nice blue jeans and cleaned-up cowboy boots. Ezra almost never tries to dress nice to the point where you've given up on ever looking nice, too. And right now, you're standing in your sleep clothes and Tommy's offering you something that you weren't even trying for.

Your heart races in your chest and you gush between your legs. Your face is on fire--the whole situation makes you so nervous. What if they're lying? What if they're just playing tricks on you? What if this is all one big joke? Your history with Ezra didn't matter. He could change his mind at any minute and go running off leaving you all alone. You were tired of being abandoned by the people you trusted most.

Ezra rests his large hand on your hip. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your shorts. "Go on, angel. Uncle Tommy ain't gonna hurt you none." You glance at Ezra nervously and he nods. "Go on," he says again.

You decide to give in. Ezra's been around long enough. He knows you. He knows how anxious you get. And if he's there, it does feel safer. You've at least got one person on your side if Tommy doesn't treat you right.

You take two steps towards Tommy and the two men immediately relax. Tommy spreads his legs and guides you by your hips to sit between them. He pulls you back against his warm, broad chest. He feels so solid and sturdy behind you. And he smells like something clean and bright--waking you up even more, making you more aware of just how much of his body is touching yours. His hands slide up and down your bare shoulders.

"Now what's makin you think you're not the prettiest thing on two legs, sugar?" says Tommy.

"I-I don't know," you answer. You did know, though. It was all the movies and TV and magazines. All the clothing stores and boutiques where the clothes never quite fit you right. It felt like the whole world was telling you that you weren't pretty enough to be loved.

"Too much TV," says Ezra and you roll your eyes.

Tommy chuckles into your skin as he presses light kisses into your shoulder. Each one excites you and soothes you at the same time. "You know all that stuff is fake, don'tchu?" His hands slide down your arms, squeezing you just above your elbows. "You can't be thinkin ya ain't pretty just 'cause ya ain't fake, now, sugar. 'S not what men like anyway."

"Not any man worth a damn," adds Ezra.

"That's right," says Tommy. His hands move from your arms to your waist. "Men know a real thing when they see it, sugar." His hands slide up to your breasts and he gropes them in each hand. "And we got ourselves a real one right here."

Your hands grasp tight onto Tommy's knees next to your own. You glance over at Ezra with hazy eyes and Ezra sits so casually as if nothing unconventional is going on.

"'S about what's on the inside," says Ezra, flicking dirt off his ankle as he goes to cross his legs. "That's what counts."

"That's right," says Tommy. He squeezes your nipples through your shirt. "And I'm proud to say that our little niece here is pretty on the inside and out."

"She sure is, ain't she?" says Ezra.

You don't know how to respond. You're not sure what to do. All you know is that there's a pool of slickness growing between your legs and it's enough that you wonder if you're gonna leave a wet spot on the chair beneath you.

"What? You still don't believe us?" says Tommy.

"She can be real stubborn when she wants to be," says Ezra.

Tommy chuckles. "How 'bout this? Don't you feel this, sugar?" One of Tommy's hands slides down the front of you to cup you between your legs. He pulls you flush against him and that's when you feel it. That's when you feel how hard he is. You're not sure how you missed it before. It feels like a steel rod against your back. "You feelin' what you do to your Uncle Tommy, baby?" He rolls his hips against you. "'M about to burst and we ain't even done nothin, yet. We're just sittin here talkin."

Part of you wants to laugh at that. There's a hell of a lot more going on than just talking.

"I think she's grown weary of conversation, brother," says Ezra.

Tommy chuckles again. "Ya think?"

"Yeeeeep," Ezra groans and stands from his chair. "And you did promise to show her how pretty she was."

"I sure did, didn't I?"

Ezra walks over and stands in front of you. You feel surrounded--caged in. But not unsafe. "Whatchu thinkin', angel?" Ezra cradles your face in his big hands. He leans close enough to you that the whole rest of the back porch disappears. "Want me to get you ready for Uncle Tommy?"

Oh fuck. Does Ezra mean what you think he means? "O-Okay," you say.

"Good girl." He grins briefly before his eyes go wide and serious again. "Uncle Tommy's big. I don't want you gettin hurt."

You nod. "Okay."

Ezra sinks to his knees before you. He reaches for your waistband and you lift your hips as he tugs your shorts down and off your legs. "Mm-mmm," hums Ezra, staring between your thighs. "Our little niece is pretty everywhere." His large fingers poke and prod at your lips. "She's wet, too." He spreads your pussy apart with both hands. "Soakin," he says.

"Is she now?" Tommy says. His breathing's picked up. Both his hands back on your chest. You can feel his whole body rolling into you, even if just in the smallest way. Ezra's touch has you responding in kind.

Ezra's head tilts upward with his fingers still on you. "Remember that job on Breyer street? The house with all those cat paintings?"

Tommy stills a moment. "... y-yeah?"

"Remember how that faucet on the side of the house wouldn't stop leaking?"

"...yeah?"

"That's about what she looks like right now."

Tommy laughs and holds you close, grinding against you. "Fuck, man. You can't be sayin shit like that to me, man. What the hell?"

"I am merely trying to be honest with you," says Ezra with a shrug. He thrusts two thick fingers inside of you with one hand and with the other, he rests his thumb against your clit. Unmoving. Simply applying pressure as you and Tommy's bodies move together.

"Oh my god," you moan as Ezra's fingers stroke inside you and Tommy whispers in your ear.

"'S Uncle Ezra makin you feel good, sugar? 'S he touchin you just right?"

"Mm-hmm," you whimper. "So good. So good."

"You feel how pretty we think you are, honey?" asks Tommy.

"And it's not just because you're our favorite little niece," says Ezra.

"That's right," says Tommy. "'S because it's a fact, sugar." Tommy grunts. Ezra's fingers squelch inside your wet walls. "It's a fact that you're the prettiest goddamn thing we've ever seen."

"Our pretty little angel inside and out," Ezra says with a smirk as he adds a third finger inside you.

"Oh fuck" you moan and writhe.

Tommy chuckles. "Even if she got a dirty mouth on her."

Ezra laughs, too. "Oh she's filthy."

"Is that right?"

"I-I don't know." Your dizzy with desire. You're surprised you can register anything they're saying to you.

"How 'boutchu get that filthy mouth on Uncle Ezra's cock while Uncle Tommy gets inside this pussy, huh, sugar? How's that sound?"

"Yeah, okay," you slur.

Ezra pulls his fingers out of you and stands. Tommy scoots you forward so he can undo his jeans. He and Ezra situate you so that your feet are on the floor with your ass hovering above Tommy's lap. Your hands grip the arms of Tommy's chair. Ezra pulls his own cock out of his pants and it bobs in front of your face.

You and Tommy both hiss as he pierces your cunt. Ezra was right. Tommy is big.

"Shit, man. You didn't tell me it was like this--" Tommy chokes out through panting breaths.

You bite your lip and groan.

Ezra chuckles as he strokes himself. "I tried, brother, but some things are best experienced for yourself."

"You got that right," says Tommy. He moans and curses as he guides you up and down his shaft, providing you with the rhythm and speed.

Once you feel steady enough, you open your eyes and Ezra's cock is hard and ready for you. You open your mouth, eager to hold its weight on your tongue. He doesn't thrust or move--merely lets your rhythm on Tommy's lap provide all the back-and-forth action.

"You're doing perfect, angel," says Ezra as he caresses your cheek. You've given him much better blowjobs before but he's looking down at you like you're giving him the high of a lifetime. "You look so pretty."

"Prettiest fuckin thing we ever fucked," grunts out Tommy.

"Play with that clit and she'll cream all over ya," says Ezra.

"Goddamn," curses Tommy. And he does what Ezra says. He reaches one hand around and presses hard against your clit. Four fingers rubbing back and forth just above where his cock is thrusting in and out of you.

Syrupy warmth begins to flood between your legs and seconds later your spasming between the two men--thighs twitching and toes curling.

Tommy curses again. "If she wasn't my favorite niece before, she sure as shit would be now."

"Told ya," says Ezra.

Tommy continues to thrust into you as you bounce onto him. "Yeah, suck his cock. Suck Uncle Ezra's cock, sugar."

Ezra does his best to keep his cock inside your mouth, but he doesn't seem too concerned about your performance there. It seems to be enough to watch you getting fucked so hard by your Uncle Tommy. Hearing your thighs slap each other and his cock squelch inside you is like music to Ezra's ears and dick. And your whimpers--goddamn!--you got the prettiest little whimpers he's ever heard in his life. Add in Tommy's desperate grunts and Ezra's careening toward the edge and nearly sent over it. He has to take a step back to get control of himself.

Without Ezra's cock to muffle you, your whimpers turn into shouts and Tommy grits his teeth. "Where do I cum?" asks Tommy through strained breaths.

"Fill her up, brother." Ezra's eyes sparkle at you. "Then I'll take my turn inside our pretty little pussy."

Tommy curses some more. He wraps his arms around you and taps on your clit, hoping to make you come along with him. And you do, it's hard not to. His thrusts were hitting all the right spots in your inner walls and Ezra's standing in front of you and watching you with tender focus. Your legs twitch and your toes curl all over again.

"Alright, now, hold it all in, angel," says Ezra with a stern expression on his face and you know what he means. You reach between your legs as Tommy pulls out and you do your best to keep all his cum inside you.

Ezra sits and then lies down on the floor, his cock hard and at attention. He waves you over with the flick of his fingers. "Come ride your Uncle Ezra, baby. Come show me how it's done," he says.

And something animalistic has been triggered inside of you as Ezra casually reclines on the hard wood floor. His elbows are bent and his head rests in both hands. He dons a simple smile and it almost drives you crazy. You want him as desperate for you as you are for him. You want him aching and writhing for your touch. He's been too relaxed this whole time and you almost hate him for it.

Tommy's cum is beginning to seep from between your fingers so you hustle to sit on Ezra's cock. Ezra's facial expression doesn't change as you sink onto him--but you notice the way his hips curl ever so slightly into you. He's holding back and you wanna make him give in. But you know Ezra, just as much as he knows you. And riding him how he likes it isn't going to get you anywhere. He wants you to use him--make yourself come by whatever means necessary. And that is certainly something you can oblige by.

So you do. Your hands grip his chest and you find the right angle that allows you to roll your hips into him with your clit pressed against his skin. You decide to take. You take and take and take your pleasure from him--you don't give a shit what makes him feel good. This one's all about you. And eventually he does give in. You see the way he grits his teeth and bites his lip. His hands fly to your waist, but you don't let him guide you at all. This is your ride and your orgasm. Even if you've already had two and Ezra's yet to have one.

But it was just what Ezra wanted--he was getting off on you getting off and some kind of feedback loop developed into both of you getting off and your panting and he's snarling and then suddenly there's another burst of hot liquid inside of you and seeping out of you. And you don't know it, yet, but Ezra loves when all the juices and cum are soaking his lap and he's filthy with the remnants of a well-and-good fucking. And if he could suck his own dick after all of it, he would. But instead, he pulls you up his body and has you sit on his face and he gives your pussy the most tender and loving kiss with tongue and all. All while your trembling and dizzy from overstimulation.

Once you finally take a moment to breathe. You find Tommy watching with lazy, tired eyes from his chair, his own cock already tucked back in. But there's a smirk on his face that tells you he appreciated the show you and Ezra just gave him.

"Alright, angel," says Ezra with a messy mouth. "Let's go put you back to bed."

------

a/n: wow. so horny. jesus christ.

tagging: @neverwheremoonchild @xdaddysprincessxx 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, death, blood, language, alcohol, sexual tension etc :)

A/N: I needed to give these poor characters a break lol

Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

April 2004

Spring was in the air and the days were getting warmer, which meant you both needed new clothes. You rifled through the closet of the house two doors down, tossing clothes that were both your sizes onto the bed behind you. Whoever lived in the house you were currently staying in was much larger than you and Joel, so you made rags from their clothes, and you ended up searching inside the house down the street.

In the past two months, neither of you had seen an infected or a living person unless you left the area to explore the nearby town. You were beginning to feel like the two of you were living in a little bubble, completely cut off and alone, and it was wonderful. You let yourselves relax, laughing and joking, and you felt comfortable going out by yourself to explore the neighborhood. The houses were practically untouched and stocked with all kinds of food that you could use, and Joel felt confident about starting a fire in the seclusion of the forest. You would make dinner together at night, and afterwards you would play cards, read, or do crosswords in front of the fireplace. It was overwhelmingly domestic and peaceful.

Joel had originally said he wanted to stay there until you were healed and the weather warmed up, but it's been a couple weeks of spring and he hadn't suggested leaving yet. You didn't bring it up because it was as close to normal as you thought you would ever feel again, and you were scared to let it go.

Almost every morning, you woke up with Joel's arms wrapped around you. You were both so used to it by now that it no longer felt forbidden, but it was expected. There hadn’t been another charged moment like that morning in your childhood bedroom, but there had been a few moments here and there that caused your mind to wander. Like when you would make dinner together in the kitchen and Joel would slip by you, gently placing his hands on your hips as he brushed past while you prepared food, or when you sat together reading in front of the fireplace and he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his long fingers grazing your shoulder.

You became an expert at avoiding your feelings for him, so you never acted on those moments. Instead, you distracted yourself with the new world around you. Joel would spend much of his time during the day hunting in the forest and gathering wood for the fire, and you would explore each house on the street, first for supplies, and then for entertainment. You had found a romance novel tucked into the bedside table of the house you were currently rummaging through, deciding at the last minute to bring it back with you for something to read.

You tucked the book in the back of your pants and grunted as you lifted the pile of clothes off the bed. Your wounds had healed pretty well, but you were still a little stiff and you had a few nasty pink scars along your ribs to show for it. You wandered down the street, barely able to see over the clothes, as you made your way back to your white house with blue shutters. Joel had been resting in a rocking chair on the front porch, waiting for your return, when he saw you struggling with the clothes. He jogged down the stairs to meet you halfway and grabbed some from your arms.

“Thanks,” you said, readjusting the clothes as you made your way to the house. “When did you get back?”

“’Bout ten minutes ago. I got lucky early and got us a small doe, probably just a yearling. I got it in the garage, I’ll skin it later.”

“That’s great, we haven’t had venison in a long time,” you said, climbing the stairs up to the front porch. You dropped the clothes unceremoniously on the couch in the living room, deciding to tackle the sorting later.

“What’s this?” Joel asked, yanking the book from the back of your jeans. He glanced at the cover, his eyes widening, and he shot you a teasing smirk. You huffed and tried to tug the book from his hand, but he was too quick, dangling it above your head and then turning around so he could thumb through the pages. He stopped on a page and skimmed a quick paragraph, giving a low whistle. You wrapped your arm around him trying to grab the book, but he anticipated it and twisted away, taking a few steps backwards as he continued to read.

“This is dirty!” he teased, and you felt your face flush.

“I didn’t know what it was, I just grabbed it for something to read!” you lied, lunging forward again but he held his arm out and tucked the book behind his back. You grumbled irritably, your hands on your hips as you glared at him. He tsked at you and waved his finger back and forth.

“Liar,” he said, grinning as you felt another wave of heat roll over your skin. “You’re blushing, you knew what this was.”

You had enough of him embarrassing you now, so you decided two could play that game.

“Fine, maybe I did,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “A girl’s got needs, you know.”

You smirked as you watched his teasing grin fade instantly from his face. His gaze darkened as he regarded you for a moment. You stood your ground, hands still on your hips and looking at him defiantly but you could feel your fast heartbeat and the butterflies in your stomach betraying you. He took a step towards you, then another. You played it cool, refusing to break eye contact and let him win, but you couldn’t stop from swallowing nervously. You tilted your head back to continue to meet his gaze once he came to a stop right in front of you. Now that you were up close, you noticed there was a slight pink flush dusting his cheeks. His lips were parted, and you swore he was breathing faster than normal.

“Is that right?” he murmured to you now, his voice unmistakably heavy with desire. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything without it coming out three octaves higher than normal, so instead you slowly nodded your head.

You must have parted your lips without knowing it because he finally broke eye contact to look down at them hungrily. You shifted your weight slightly as you felt your arousal pooling in your underwear. You dropped your arms to your sides and rose to your tip toes, slowly leaning up towards his face. He could smell the soap you used this morning and felt your exhale tickling his neck as you rose higher. He was practically in a trance as his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned down a fraction, eagerly awaiting the feel of your mouth on his.

Once his eyes shut, you swung your arm out and snatched the book from his hand, jumping back and holding it in front of you triumphantly. His eyes snapped open and he held back a groan, the look of disappointment evident on his face.

"That wasn't very nice," he said. His whole body was on fire, and he prayed you didn't notice the growing erection through his jeans.

"Aww," you gave him a teasing frown and pout, tapping the book on his shoulder as you passed him, "don't worry, I'll let you borrow this when I'm done."

After dinner, you and Joel settled into the living room like you always did, today choosing to play cards in front of the fireplace. You were closely examining your hand and struggling to remember the rules of poker Joel had taught you last week. Joel watched you as your brows furrowed and you shuffled the cards around.

"Hey," he said softly, placing his cards facedown and putting his hand out to push yours down as well. You looked up at him curiously, dropping your hands to your lap and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "Can we talk about somethin'?"

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the softness behind his eyes and heard the tone of his voice. This is it, we're finally going to talk about it.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I've wanted to talk to you about this for a while, but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it," he began, and your heart started thudding in your chest. "Just know that we can do whatever you're comfortable with," he continued, your eyes widening. Holy shit. He took a deep breath and leaned forward on the table, inches away from your face. You thought you were going to pass out from how fast your pulse was racing. "What do you think about gettin' a CB radio?"

You froze, not sure you heard him correctly.

"What?" you asked, your voice cracking.

"A CB radio," he repeated, leaning back in his chair again. "I bet either the fire department or the police station in town's got one. Figure we can listen in on one, maybe there's other survivors, communities... maybe we can even find Tommy."

"Oh!" You said, shaking your head to clear your mind from the wrong direction your thoughts had gone. "Yeah, sure, let's do that."

"I know you really like it here, and I do too," he said, picking his cards back up, "but it's not safe to stay here forever. We gotta have a plan. People'll eventually find us here. Call." He pushed a red button you were using as poker chips into the center of the table.

You nodded and bit your lip, looking back at your cards. You let out a shaky breath, your adrenaline still rushing through your veins.

"You alright?" Joel asked you innocently, noticing you were jittery.

"Yep, I'm fine," you said, sounding clearer now. "I fold." You tossed your cards face up on the table and leaned back as Joel swept the pile of buttons into his hand.

You yawned and stretched your arms above your head. "I think I'm gonna go get ready for bed." You stood and picked up your flashlight to make your way upstairs.

"Did ya think I was talkin' about somethin' else?" He asked lowly, right as your foot hit the first step. You whipped your head around to find him smirking with his arms crossed in his chair. Your jaw dropped and he winked as your cheeks began to feel hot.

"That wasn't very nice," you repeated his words back to him before ascending the stairs to bed.

New Virginia, Iowa was a very small town that consisted of a few churches, a library, a handful of restaurants and a post office. The whole town appeared deserted except for a few infected, most of which the pair of you took care of when you first explored the town back in March. Joel had trouble trying to break into the front door of the police station, so you tried your luck with another entrance attached to the small parking garage. You shifted your backpack on your shoulders as you waited for him to jimmy open the lock. Whenever you left the safety of your house you always made sure to pack both your bags with all your necessities. Even though the past couple months have been quiet and relaxing, you refused to let yourselves be caught off guard. You brought your supplies and weapons with you whenever you left the neighborhood, never knowing for sure if you would have to make a run for it one day.

You glanced around the parking garage once again before hearing the telltale click of the lock breaking.

"Shit," Joel whispered harshly. You turned back to look at him and saw blood dripping down his palm. You dropped your pack to the floor and rummaged around for a handful of rags, pressing one into his hand before digging for some rubbing alcohol. You both sat down on the floor, his hand held out to you while you gently cleaned his cut, first with some water, then with the alcohol. He hissed at the sting and clenched his eyes shut while you pressed a clean rag against the cut and squeezed his other hand comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, removing the rag to assess the damage. He opened his eyes and watched as you tended so delicately to his injury. He stared adoringly at your face while you were distracted, taking in the way you bit down on your lower lip in concentration, the loose strands of hair that dangled in front of your eyes, the little frown your brows made. He had been so distracted that he didn't even notice you were done patching him up. You looked up at him and smiled.

"Good as new. Well, I think, anyway. Cut doesn't look that deep, I don't think you need stitches." He looked down and saw you had expertly wrapped his hand tightly with a couple of rags. He flexed his fingers as he tested his mobility.

"Thanks," he said, standing back up and looking back down on the floor at his broken hunting knife. He sighed. "I really liked that knife."

"We can find you a new one," you said, pushing the door open a crack to listen inside. You pushed it open all the way and scanned your flashlights over the room. As expected, it was empty. You both walked past a few desks towards the back of the room, opening up each door until you found a gun locker. You were about to offer to work on the lock instead but Joel walked up and the door swung right open. He turned back to you with his eyebrows raised and shrugged.

“Small town, I guess,” he said, looting around for more ammo and then pulled out a handgun. He checked that it was loaded and handed it to you, remembering yours was stolen from your house after you left it with Tim and Lucy. You double checked the safety was on and shoved it in the back of your jeans, pulling your light jacket over the top. Joel couldn’t find any knives, but he did find two retractable police batons. You tested it out with a flick of your wrist, the baton extending instantly in your hand, then collapsed it so it would fit in your jacket pocket.

You left the armory and went to explore the police chief’s office where Joel found a CB radio on top of a filing cabinet next to the desk. He flipped it around to examine it, then picked up the transceiver and microphone, shoving it into his pack.

“Maybe we can find a car battery in the parking ramp before we go home, get this thing workin’," Joel said, but all you heard was the word home. You grinned like an idiot once his back was to you, leading you out of the police station.

Joel pried open the hoods on the cars remaining in the parking ramp, trying to find a battery that still had power and was in good condition. You yawned and meandered around the corner, looking for something to occupy yourself while he worked. You saw a car with the passenger door open and what looked like duffel bags inside. You glanced at Joel over your shoulder, his head buried under the hood of a red sedan.

“I’m gonna go take a look at this car down here, see if there’s anything we can use,” you said. He turned around and looked at the car you had pointed out. He nodded before saying, “Be careful.”

He was muttering to himself as he unhooked yet another dead battery when he felt the cold metal barrel of a pistol press against the back of his head.

“Don’t say a word, or we kill the girl,” a deep voice said quietly behind him. We. He froze and swung his eyes around frantically, trying to think of anything he could do to get the upper hand. He glanced down at the revolver on his hip, but the man behind him already saw it. “Two fingers. Pick it up slowly, and hand it over. Slow.”

Joel did as he was told, his heart slamming against his ribs as he listened for any indication that you were hurt.

“Stand up, turn around, hands in the air,” the man said, and again, Joel obeyed. He was faced with two men, one of which was now sheathing his knife in favor of Joel’s revolver. He looked behind them, trying to spot you by the car you said you were looking through, but you weren’t there. He began to panic, and his vision narrowed.

“Take whatever you want, just don’t hurt her,” he said gruffly to the men, but his eyes gave away how fearful he was. They chuckled, slinging Joel’s backpack over their shoulder along with the rifle he had set down next to it. “Please,” he tried again, begging.

“Don’t worry,” sneered the man holding his revolver. “We got a friend taking real good care of her.”

Before Joel’s mind could even process the implication, he heard a man’s wild, high-pitched scream coming from the other end of the parking ramp, around a corner none of you could see beyond. The two men exchanged nervous glances, then one single gunshot rang out, echoing over the concrete walls. The men stared at the corner of the garage, guns still aimed on Joel, waiting to see who had pulled the trigger.

Joel tried to control his panicked breaths until he saw you round the corner with a look of anger and determination on your face. In one hand was your handgun, and the other was reaching into your jacket pocket, flicking open the police baton. Your eyes were glued to the two men threatening Joel, your jaw clenched, and nostrils flared as you suddenly picked up your pace and made a beeline towards the one holding Joel’s revolver.

Joel could tell you had surprised them with your bold plan of attack, so he took advantage of it and lunged forward, tackling the man who originally held a gun to his head. He knocked the gun out of his hand, and it skidded under a parked car. Joel began mercilessly beating the man’s face with his fist, watching as he broke his nose and then his jaw, only stopping when he noticed his own blood began to flow from his knuckles and the injury on his palm. As he stood up, he pulled the knife from his boot. The man’s eyes shifted towards the knife and then back at Joel with a wild look in his eye.

“No! No, no, no, please, I’ll –“ before he could finish, Joel rammed the knife into the man’s chest with a grunt. He made sure he was dead before pulling the knife out and stumbled in your direction, but as it turned out, you didn’t need any help.  You had the other man on the floor with your foot on his chest as you removed your own switchblade from the side of his neck.

You turned around, gasping for breath from the exertion, and wiped the blood from your face with the sleeve of your jacket. Joel strode right up to you and yanked you into a tight hug, pressing the side of your head against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart was beating as you wrapped your arms around his waist and closed your eyes. He finally allowed you to pull back, but he held your face in both his hands, looking you up and down for any injuries.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you told him, covering his hands with your own and gently tugging them downward. You folded the switchblade and baton back up and put them away before leaning over and picking up Joel’s revolver, along with the dead man's knife. “Told you we'd get you a new one,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as you could tell Joel was still shaken from the fight.  He let out a small chuckle before picking up his belongings.

“What the hell did ya do to that guy to make him scream like that?”

“I stabbed him in the balls,” you said, glancing sideways at him and catching the wince on his face.

“Fuck the battery, let’s go home,” he told you, wrapping an arm around you for one more half hug before heading back out the way you came.

Once you got back to the house, you each took a turn washing the blood and grime off your bodies before preparing some venison to eat for dinner. You had made a packet of instant mashed potatoes and you shared a can of green beans as you settled on the couch to eat. Halfway through the meal, Joel's eyes lit up and he turned towards you.

"Wait here, I forgot I found somethin', I'll be right back," and he headed out to the attached garage to bring back two bottles of white wine. You gasped, grabbing them from his hands to look at the labels in the light of the fire.

"When did you find these?" you asked, still in shock.

"Couple days ago in the basement of the green house. I was settin' them aside for a special occasion, and seein' as you kicked so much ass earlier, I figured today is that day," he said, heading into the kitchen to find a corkscrew and glasses.

"Well, I don't know if I kicked ‘so much’ ass, I think I kicked an average amount of ass," you giggled, sitting back down to finish your meal as he poured you each a glass. You tried to ignore how casually you spoke about killing other people as you gratefully took a glass from his hand, taking your first sip and letting a moan escape your lips. Joel smiled and went back to finishing his dinner, trying to ignore the sound you made.

Your plates long discarded and on your second glasses of wine, you insisted on properly bandaging the cut on his palm, now that the bath he took had washed away all the dried blood. You tipped his hand towards the light of the flames as you diligently sanitized the cut again before sticking a big, rectangular bandaid over it.

"Maybe you should take some antibiotics," you said, gently running a finger down the bandage. "That parking ramp was filthy." He shrugged as he watched you lazily tracing his cut through the bandage.

"Yeah, maybe, I'll take one tomorrow," he mumbled. He could tell his alcohol tolerance was next to nothing after all these months because the wine was going right to his head. You flipped his hand over and ran your fingers gently along his damaged knuckles. His breath hitched at the contact, and he took another sip of wine to hide it. Maybe the wine was going to your head, too.

You dragged your gaze up from his hand to his exposed forearms, remembering how fixated you were on them just a year ago. You bit your lip and reached for your glass, in the process dropping his hand to rest on your knee. You almost gasped, then had to stifle a laugh at how absurd it was to have such a reaction to a simple touch on your knee. You took another sip of wine and blamed the fact you hadn't had sex in nearly a year as the reason. The time you had sex with Justin wasn't exactly fulfilling, so it hardly counted. You stole a glance in Joel's direction as he stared at the open fireplace and sipped his wine. You thought back again to that night at the bar when Joel asked you to go home with him. You could kick yourself now for not doing it. You knew he was still attracted to you by the way you saw his pants tighten yesterday when you teased him with the book, and months ago back in your bedroom when you had almost kissed. That day, you were ready to take things further with him, even with the understanding that all he was willing to offer you was the physical part of a relationship.

"Why are you lookin' at me like that?" he asked you without taking his eyes off the fire.

"Like what?" you replied lowly.

"You know what," he said, turning to you now. His beautiful brown eyes were a shade darker as he looked at you, his fingers curling around your knee, this time pulling a gasp from you.

You decided to go for it. You put your glass down and slid over to sit a little closer to him as he eyed you warily. You trailed your fingertip along the back of his hand again, admiring how long and thick his fingers were before dragging a line up his forearm and wrapped your hand around it gently.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked huskily, staring down as your thumb rubbed his arm.

"Mhmm," he murmured, entranced by the contact.

"When we first met, I couldn't stop thinking about your arms. Every time I saw you... I was just so distracted," you flicked your eyes up to his face and watched as he held his breath at your words. He finally found his voice and brought his eyes up to look at you.

"That wasn't exactly a secret," he whispered, "even Tommy noticed that."

You hummed, refusing to let any embarrassment throw you off. You watched as he took another sip of wine and tried a different tactic.

"Do you remember the last time I had wine like this?" you asked, raising your eyebrow. You saw his Adam's apple stopped bobbing mid swallow. That did the trick.

"Yes," he said roughly, looking straight ahead at the fire again, his grip on your knee tightening as you slowed the circles your thumb was making on his arm.

"That was a fun night," you said, willing him to look at you again.

"Followed by a not so fun day," Joel replied, trying to throw some cold water on the conversation. You sighed, growing frustrated as he put his glass down on the coffee table.

"Right, the outbreak," you muttered, your hand releasing his arm.

"No," he said, finally turning towards you. "Because that's the day I fucked everything up." His eyes burned into yours, desperately trying to say the words.

"You didn't fuck everything up," you told him, scooting even closer to him on the couch. You leaned forward and put a hand on his knee for balance, then placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped his other hand around your wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked, fighting the urge to give in.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" you said back, planting another small kiss in the same place. His grip on your wrist loosened and he swallowed hard.

"Please," he croaked out, his expression pained when you leaned back to look at him. "Don't do this again. I don't think I can take it."

You frowned, confused. Maybe he didn't realize you now understood what he wanted. You reached out a hand to rest on the back of his neck.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," you murmured to him, licking your lips. "I get it now."

Now Joel was the one to frown and pulled his head back a fraction to discourage your kiss.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, unable to hide his heartache as he searched your eyes for an answer. Maybe the wine was getting to you more than he thought. You paused, genuinely perplexed now.

"Isn't that what you want?" you asked him, your brows knit.

"What are you talkin' about?" he questioned louder now, turning his whole body to face you, your hands dropping to your lap as he removed his hand from your knee.

"The day we fought in your office, the day I quit, your birthday!" you said, your voice getting louder with each word.

"What does that have to do with this?" Joel asked, his voice filled with despair. What the hell were you talking about?

"You got mad at me for not sleeping with you!" you all but shouted now, getting angry you had to spell it out for him. "I didn't want to just have sex back then, but I'm trying to tell you now that I'm fucking fine with that, if that's all you want!"

You stared at each other for a minute, both panting slightly as you got increasingly agitated. Joel shook his head and rubbed his hands up and down his face. Then he suddenly stopped and his hands grasped your shoulders, bringing you an inch closer.

"Do you got any idea what you do to me?!" he exclaimed, almost shaking you. You could hear the pain in his voice as it cracked. "'Course that's not all I want. I want everything! I want you!"

Your breath caught in your throat at his admission, completely stunned. You shook your head now, finally asking him the question that weighed on your mind for months.

"Then why did you call me a whore?" you asked, softly now, your voice laced with sadness. He slowly dropped his hands from your shoulders, casting his eyes downward in shame. His eyebrows furrowed as he brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing before dropping his hand to his lap and looking back up at you.

"I..." he began, chewing on his lip and casting his gaze around the room to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I saw you that day, before you came up to my office," he said, looking back at you now, your lips parting as you tried to think back. He could see the confusion in your face. "I had no right to feel, to think, you were mine," he added, "but when I saw you flirtin' with him, I just lost it."

You frowned and pursed your lips, still not making the connection.

"Flirting with who?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

"That guy in your department, the one that was at the bar that night!" He said, throwing his hands in the air. "I saw you dancin' with him in the goddamn copy room. It's my own fault, I knew we weren't anythin', but I guess I'd hoped... and that fuckin' copy room... it just set me off," he said, looking deep into your eyes before finally saying, "I'm so sorry."

You remembered now. He had seen you dancing with Kyle in the copy room. Kyle. You shouldn't have found it funny, but the wine coupled with how ridiculous your fight seemed now made you giggle, which then escalated to full blown laughter as your covered your mouth, turning your face away from Joel's intense stare. He raised an eyebrow at you, still not finding it funny. You saw he was patiently waiting for you to explain, so you wiped a stray tear away from the corner of your eye and composed yourself.

"Joel... Kyle was gay," you said, still trying to hide your smirk. You watched his face as he absorbed the words, his pained expression slowly softening and his eyebrows relaxing.

"I'm so fuckin' stupid," he whispered, his bandaged hand reaching out to grasp the back of your neck and pulled you into him, his lips locking onto yours. You whimpered as you brought your hands up to rake through his hair, his other hand coming to rest on your hip before sliding down your leg. He leaned forward to push you backwards onto the couch. Hovering above you, he hooked your leg around his waist and rested his hand back on your hip, licking at your bottom lip. You eagerly opened your mouth at his request, deepening the kiss as you ran your tongue alongside his own, tasting the remnants of the wine between you. You moaned into his mouth, removing one hand from his hair and wrapping it around his back, trying to bring him closer. You were desperate to taste and feel him everywhere, a year of yearning for him finally coming to a head.

Joel could hardly see straight from the adrenaline coursing through his body. Every nerve ending felt alive. He thought he ruined his chance of ever being with you. He had resigned himself to a life where he was content with just being near you and occasionally got to hold you at night. His emotions were so overwhelming that his movements were becoming chaotic, his hand briefly sliding from your hip to cup your ass, then back to your hip. His other hand moved from the back of your neck to hold your jaw in place as he broke contact from your mouth for a moment, just to flip his head in the other direction before sliding his tongue back inside your mouth.

You arched your back off the couch to press your body against him. You tugged at the back of his t-shirt and wrapped your other leg around his waist, pulling him all the way down so he was laying on top of you. You lifted your hips up to grind against the erection straining against his jeans, eliciting a groan from Joel, when you felt something sharp digging into your thigh. You let go of his shirt and brought your hand around to his chest, pushing him up and breaking the kiss. You had to tug gently on his hair to keep him from latching his mouth onto your neck.

“Wait,” you gasped. He removed his hand from your hip and pushed his fist into the couch cushion, holding himself above you. “What is that?” you asked, flicking your eyes downward. He paused, confused, as he looked down at his cock rubbing against your inner thigh through his jeans, then back up to you.

“Not that,” you said, removing your hand from his hair and swatting playfully at his shoulder before reaching down to his pocket. “This.”

“Oh,” his face broke out into a warm smile now as he removed his hand from your jaw and dug into his pocket, pulling out the Texas shaped keychain. He dangled it between you, still smiling as he watched the realization hit you. Your jaw dropped as you stared at it and then gently reached out to take it from him, turning it over in your hands before looking back up at him. You couldn’t help it. Tears sprung to your eyes as you swallowed roughly, biting your lower lip. He pressed his wounded palm back against your jaw, using his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth and then wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, running his thumb across your cheek again. “Please forgive me.” You choked back a sob at the pet name he refrained from calling you for so long. The last time you heard it, it was said with such cruelty and disdain, and to hear it now, said with so much love and adoration, nearly broke you. You could only nod your head enthusiastically, not trusting yourself to speak as you looped the keyring around your finger and pulled him back down to you.  

This time, the intensity behind your kiss escalated. You gently raked your fingernails through his hair and then up and down his back, your tongues swirling together, quiet moans leaving your mouth and being swallowed up by his as you ground your hips up into him, begging him to take things further. He broke your kiss to allow you to get some air, but he continued, leaving gentle kisses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe, then traveling down your neck, occasionally giving your skin a warm lick if he felt he had left a mark with his teeth. You reached down with the keychain still looped around your finger, and fumbled hastily with his belt buckle. He stopped his assault on your neck and pulled back, taking his hand from your face to stop yours from undoing his belt. You frowned as you laid underneath him, gasping for breath.

“Not tonight,” he panted, drawing a whine from you. “We’ve been drinking,” he continued, bringing your hand away from his belt to rest above your head, where he pressed your wrist into the arm of the couch. “I wanna take my time,” he leaned forward, gently pressing his mouth against your swollen lips before pulling back, “and remember,” giving you another languid kiss, “every,” he pressed his lips against your cheek, “single,” kissing the tip of your nose, “sound you make for me,” he finished, massaging his lips tenderly against yours again.

You groaned against his mouth and you felt his lips tug into a smile.

"It'll be worth it, I promise," he whispered against your lips, his grip tightening against your wrist as you squirmed under him. He tugged on your wrist as he rolled off of you and onto his back, pulling you onto your side and under his arm. You rested your cheek against his chest and drew lazy patterns on his stomach, while he absentmindedly dragged his thumb over your upper back and stared into the fire. You slid the keychain off your finger and tucked it back into his jeans pocket with a smile. You couldn't believe he had it, after all this time, and never said a word.

"Why don't we go up to bed?" he mumbled as his eyes slid shut. You nodded and nuzzled your face into his chest.

"In a minute," you told him, your eyes closing. He hummed in response before his thumb slowed its movement on your back and you heard him softly snoring. It wasn't long until you had also drifted off, your arms wrapped around each other.

Chapter Fourteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

[blogtrix]

So in all likelyhood, it was probably just logistics behind the fact that no one came to support Tommy (why hire faces for a side character), but it is a good way to show character background that he is pretty much alone. He spoke about his jealousy of the 118 becoming a family and the fact that he had no friends or family show up for his award ceremony means he had no one before he reintegrated into the 118's family through Buck.

It must have been a really lonely life for him up until now, and the fact he felt like he had to leave the 118 to stop lying to himself only for him to be brought back into their fold and see no one cared? Poor dude.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

RUNAWAY FROM ME - CHAPTER 2

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x oc

Summary - Deirdre ran from her life of misery for her own safety. However, she managed to run back into the arms of an angel she once knew, now known as The Peaky Blinder Devil. In which he has no intentions of letting her run away from him again.

Warnings - Dark content, non con, dub con, explicit themes, lovers to enemies to lovers, slow burn kinda, Tommy needs a hug.

Word count - 4.7k

The Garrison, Small Heath - Evening, January 20th 1915

Drunk, filthy, vain. That was Deirdre’s code for her carefully picked victims of her acts of deviance. Never the good, poor and innocent. Not that there were many of those around here in a town like this. 

Of all places to end up, she found her tired feet in the dust, muck and filth grounds of Small Heath. In between the brick walls of the city of fire, brimstone and smoke. A town in which all men had a life long sentence of being trapped in the working class. No thoughts and dreams in their futures, only merely hoping to make it to the next day. 

Deirdre was far from home. The furthest she had ever made it. It was a shock, wandering this far after many failed attempts. But her future entity being locked to a filthy man over twice her age pushed her to run. The window was quickly closing, Deirdre had to flee before she was trapped to another savage. 

Her home was a palace in comparison to here. The life that many would dream of replacing her absence in. But regardless of it all, she preferred Small Heath over being trapped between rough hands in Dublin. 

None of her father’s men would ever suspect her to end up in a place like this, she was free. Living day to day, nights slept in a ramshackled home felt far more secure than sleeping in a comfortable bed, underneath the roof of the man that abused her daily. 

It was another typical day of work. Here she was, sitting by the bar, accompanied by a drunken bastard whose hands got too touchy too quickly. Just a few more minutes, she’d let him finish his drink and then slide her small hands into the pockets. Always hoping for more than she’d actually grab. 

Deirdre did this a lot, she didn’t have any options for work. She had no papers, no identity, no proof of her existence. All she had was the two dresses she took with her and the pretty face that many desired. She’d pop into a random pub, she had to keep her appearances cautious. It was questioning how she’d been surviving off this for weeks now. But many men would give her a shilling just to smile at them. These were times of mayhem and anguish.

Most women would sell their bodies, a man’s shilling was far more valuable than their reputation in a town like this. There was no blame in it, but Deirdre refused to drop her innocence for anyone. Because in the back of her head, she heard her father’s gruesome threats if she ever committed such an act. It was traumatic, replaying those menacing memories. 

Tonight was a bad choice. Deirdre felt her heart thud against her chest as the older man’s hands roughly gripped onto her slim waist. It was as if he knew her ploy. Deirdre tried not to pull attention, her hands pushed against his, but it made no difference. 

“Sweetheart, going shy on me now aye?” the man grinned, a front tooth missing, the rest yellow. Before she could say a word, a man approached them.  

“Oi” a strong, intimidating voice boomed as his hand clamped over the man’s shoulder, it bent under his hold. The man turned his back to look at the younger man. He snarled and shoved his hold off of him. 

Deirdre had seen him, only one or twice here, in Small Heath. He had a shorter height than most, a small frame underneath his thick coat, but his eyes were captivating. His soft pale skin outlined his jawline. A slight undercut of his brunette hair. For a working man, he was beautiful. Deirdre had forced herself away from watching him in the swift glance. 

“Leave the poor girl alone, would ya?” The stranger threatened in an intimidatingly kind manner. His Birmingham accent was thick yet as smooth as velvet. 

“Who the fuck are you to-” the man paused, his blurred vision clearing as he stared into his blue orbs. The drunk’s sight flicked over to the table in the corner, the men in peaked caps watched him. With a snort, the man finished his drink and stormed out of the pub. 

Deirdre gulped to herself as she kept her sight low. She heard whispers of the men in the peaked caps. They swarmed at the opportunity of the war to build society as their own. Without a word, she slipped off of the barstool and went to turn her heel towards the door. 

“No” the blue eyed man opposed, his arm shooting out to gently grab ahold of her forearm. “Stay for a drink, my offer” he grinned softly as he turned his attention back to the barman. Deirdre was lost for words, simply nodded in agreement as he ordered two glasses of whisky. 

“I’ve seen you around here a couple of times. Always by yourself, your hands tend to slip into men’s dirty pockets and you’re gone” he chuckled as he slid a glass towards her. 

Deirdre laughed, she had been caught out. Finally, she’d be paying the price for her crimes. But he merely laughed lightly at her acts and took a sip of his drink. 

“What’s your name?” He asked as he sat on the bar stool and gestured for her to do the same. 

“Deirdre” she answered without thinking, she’d never told anyone her name out of caution. The paranoia was setting like paint on her skin. 

“Deirdre… The name of the broken-hearted, sorrowful and the wanderers” he nodded to himself, those piercing blue eyes of his lingered over her features as she slowly climbed onto the seat. 

She couldn’t help but to gently laugh at the accuracy. But he didn’t know that, he didn't know anything about her. No one around here did. 

“How old are ya?” He continued his questions and consumption of his drink. 

“Eighteen years old, sir” she nodded, her fingers traced the rim of the glass. 

“Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy” he corrected with a gentle smile. A soft smile grew on her lips as she finally took a sip. “Where are you from?”

“Galway” she lied, a short nod. Her eyes struggled to remain still. 

“Is it green over there?” He hummed. 

“Very” she replied shortly. 

Tommy bobbed his head to her. “Come, sit with me mates. It’ll be more comfortable there” he suggested, or ordered. Deirdre couldn’t exactly tell.

But she knew that her stay was over welcomed, and all she wanted to do was disappear again. She knows the lifestyle of gangsters, traumatized by the brutal actions that can snap out of nowhere. Deirdre would be damned if she allowed herself into that again, even for a night. 

“It’s alright, I was thinking of leaving anyway. Thank you for the drink” she opposed, pushing the half full glass away from her. 

“No, no. We will have another after this one” he said in a determined and decided tone as he pushed the glass back towards her.

“I must reject your kind offer” she sighed softly. 

“I ain’t going to do anything to ya if that’s what you believe. I swear on my family’s name” Tommy swore, holding his hand over his heart. 

They did, have another after another. She sat squished between Tommy and another, his older brother Arthur. The table was surrounded by peaked caps, the room echoing the cheers and disputes between the men. Tommy watched her as she sipped on her liquor. None of the others dared to say more than a couple of words to her. 

His arm wrapped around her waist, her guard was down and she relaxed into his hold surprisingly. Deirdre had never drunk, her father would allow a modest woman to act in such a way in his house. The effects came onto her quickly for she had hardly eaten in days. Her head swayed lightly, cheeks reddened and an innocent smile on her lips. With one last swig, Tommy finished his drink and it clinked on the wooden top.  

“So, are you going to tell me? What brought you deep in the grime streets of Small Heath?” He questioned through a whisper, his mouth pressed against her ear. 

Deirdre chuckled lightly, this question was bound to come up. “Change of scenery” she answered calmly. 

“A runaway huh?” Tommy laughed, his fingers brushing over hers. “I know one when I see one” he stated.

It felt nice, a bit too nice for her. It was unfamiliar and it made her anxious, waiting for the punch line or the trap to be triggered. She never knew physical touch could feel so lovely, so calming, so affectionate. 

“Yeah you caught me” she breathed out, almost ready to wave the flag of surrender, prepared for her father to walk in at any moment.

He could see the trouble in her eyes, the despair, how badly she wanted to forget her past. There was no denying the connection he felt to that, how badly he felt the urge to help her overlook those thoughts. 

“Well, no one will find you here. Nobody suspects Small Heath as a new beginning. It’s a cursed city where men are punished with working their lives away. But I intend to change that for my family, I will end our line of despair. Put our family name in the good” Tommy promised, his eyes glancing over at his brothers in the room. 

Deirdre smiled at him, she admired his ambition. Many working men were cold and broken. But him, it seemed that his eyes were wide open to his calling, to charge at what was rightfully his. Or, maybe he was just so desperate to chase after a kingdom to free his mind of anguish. 

“Well, I’ll walk you home” Tommy said as they slowly walked out of The Garrison. 

A wave of embarrassment of him seeing the dump she confined herself in crashed over her. It didn’t matter how drunk she was, what would he think of her? Even worse, what could he do? 

“No Tommy, it’s alright” she protested, her hands raised in fear. 

His expression was stern as he slowly shook his head to her. Many men were still wandering the dark, minacious streets of Small Heath. Best believe Tommy would not allow her to walk those dangerous grounds. 

“Nonsense, a woman needs to be cautious. Especially in these streets” he objected, his tone dripping of order. 

“Please, I must-” she sighed, lowering her head in defeat and embarrassment. 

“Do you have a place to call home?” He cocked an eyebrow to her. 

“Not really” she mumbled. 

“How long do you intend to stay in Small Heath for? Better yet, how long have you been here for?” Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, leaning towards her. 

Deirdre scratched the back of her head uneasily. 

“I, I don’t know” she answered. Tommy slid off his coat and laid it over her shoulders. 

“Alright, come with me” he encouraged, gently holding onto her hand. 

They walked silently, her body leaning towards him whenever she saw people walking nearby. But they all remained away from him, the infamous man in the peaked cap.

They stopped in front of a door, the porchlight off. Tommy opened the door slowly and looked down to her. 

“Tommy?” Deirdre asked timidly. 

“Come in” he said quietly. 

With her silent protest failing, he led her into the dark building, and they went straight upstairs. The door creaked open and Deirdre stared at the unmade single bed illuminated in the moonlight. 

“This is my room” he made known. 

There was no shame in the size or state of his room in his tone. Tommy Shelby was still a working man after all, he had to make do with what he had. 

All was heard as a small exhale from her lips. Slowly, she looked up to him with doe eyes. 

“Uh, Tommy I don’t know” she spoke, her nerves stabbing at her skin. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m merely offering you somewhere more comfortable to sleep. I’ll sleep on the floor, or I can sleep in the kitchen if that makes you more comfortable” he offered as he slid the coat off of her shoulders. 

“No have your bed, I can’t accept your generosity” she shook her head. 

Tommy chuckled at her demeanor and leant closer to her. Gently, he took her hands into his as he tilted his head towards her. 

“How about we share the bed?” Tommy suggested. Through the dark, Tommy could still see her eyes widen and heard her lightly gasp. “You’re so shy” he chuckled as he moved slightly closer to her and brushed her hair to the side. “I don’t expect to have sex with you tonight, if that makes you feel better” he assured her kindly. 

Of course that was the first thought that crossed Deidre’s mind. It passed through the moment he told her to stay for a drink. In the back of her mind, she felt her father hold a knife to her back for even thinking of such a thing. But he wasn’t here, Deirdre needed to keep on reminding herself of that. 

Deirdre stiffly nodded and Tommy slowly led her to the bed. They both laid stiffly on the bed. Complete silence, except for Deirdre’s heavy breathing and rapidly heartbeat. Tommy looked down at her and sighed. 

“Let’s get more comfortable, eh?” Tommy told her as he shifted his body to the side

They turned around on the small mattress, his arms wrapped around her timid body and held her close underneath the thin sheets. Quickly, her stiff frame softened against his hold, a feeling she had never felt before, or at least remembered. Their bodies molded as one as she finally drifted off into a comfortable sleep. 

Eden Club, Soho - Night, 23rd July 1924

“You’ve been in my dreams, my love. Have I been in yours?” Tommy tilted his head, gun still pointed to hers as she slowly stood up and leaned against the desk in defeat. 

The tension was as clear as day, they both listened to each other's breathing as she slowly batted her eyes to the familiar stranger. All Deirdre could do was laugh at her predicament. There were no cards she could lay down. All options exhausted for the time being. Unless, she could get her hands on that pistol. 

“How are you Tommy?” Deirdre inquired, raising an eyebrow to him, her body leaning back over the desk as her eyes looked him up and down slowly. He set the pistol back into his holster and took one last inhale before flicking the stick away. 

Time had certainly changed him, despite his beauty remaining the same. It was beginning to age like the finest bottle of whisky. The softness of his skin had roughened. Those perfect blue eyes have darkened whilst his jawline grew sharper. He was a lot more built now, an old part of Deirdre tortured her mind to wonder what he looked like underneath. 

“I’m spectacular now, such a lovely surprise for you to visit me at my club of all places” Tommy smiled wickedly as he shuffled closer towards her.

His hands planted on the desk around her hips as he looked down to her, his mouth ajar open. It wasn’t known by either of them if he was trying to intimidate her or seduce her at that moment. Deirdre batted her lashes once more and went doe eyed to him. 

“Did you miss me Tommy?” Deirdre asked softly, as her body drew closer to his. 

“A part of me hoped you were dead” he admitted without hesitation, his hands resting on her smooth hips now. 

“That’s sweet” Deirdre bobbed her head, her teeth biting on her inner lips. 

Tommy’s hand rubbing gently against her cheek. A wave of remembrance of her beauty crashed over him. After all of these years, all he had was his memory of her. Her maturity aged like fine wine, and Tommy was currently resisting the urge to taste her. He miscalculated his belief that his urges would be restrained by his anger. 

The only card that has deemed relevance was to seduce him, tempt him, fuck him. The old Deirdre would never demean her body like this. But the world against her had turned her desperate. Her legs spreaded as she slowly lifted her body onto the desk. His body molded to hers as he pressed his crotch against hers. There was a few inch distance between their lips, she could smell the whisky on his breath and he could smell the gin on hers. 

“So, are you going to fuck me with your eyes or your cock?” Deirdre cocked an eyebrow to him. 

“Trying to fucking seduce me” Tommy huffed as his hand slipped around her throat. Gently he tested how firmly he could squeeze her skin before she reacted.  

“Would you rather I scream for mercy?” Deirdre shot back, a cheeky grin plastered on her. 

A firm warning squeeze was fired by his hand, Tommy’s head tilted as he gently shrugged his shoulders to her. 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s all the same” he spoke slowly. 

“Which is?” She asked.  

“You won’t run away again, you’re staying with me” he spoke firmly, nodding his head at the plan which was building in his mind. Deirdre couldn’t help but to pout towards him and softly shake her head at that idea. 

Of course he was holding onto the past. Thomas Shelby was always holding onto it, even though he pretended he didn’t care about anything. He couldn’t help himself, these things kept him awake at night, consumed his dreams and tried to bring down his ambition. 

“That’s so boring Thomas, for the both of us” she sighed. 

“That’s marriage” he countered. Deirdre responded back swiftly, a bit too without thought. 

“Where’s your honor to your dead wife?” she spat, irritated with his arrogance. 

Deirdre choked out as his hand tightened roughly around her neck. His free hand held her back in place as she tried to thrash in his hold. Even though her fingers were trying to claw underneath his, they wouldn’t budge. 

“Have some fucking respect” he spat by her ear before abruptly letting go. “Should have been you anyways” he snarled as he stepped back and spun around.

Tommy cursed to himself as he felt his erection in his pants. Shaking his head firmly, he blinked away the idea of her and brushed his hand through his hair. When he turned back around to her, Deidre was staring at the ground. Tommy opened his mouth to speak when there was a heavy knock on the door.

The door swung open with Arthur on the other side. “Tommy! She’s not fucking-” Arthur paused as he stared blankly at Deirdre. “Ah! Deirdre!” Arthur exclaimed as he rushed over to her and hugged her tightly. 

A heavy exhale left Deidre’s lips as she embraced Arthur, her arms instinctively wrapped around him for security. Tommy frowned at the sight before him, especially with how Deidre’s eyes shut with ease. Quickly his blood began to boil again. 

“Arthur get out” Tommy ordered, his jaw clenched, his hands on his hips.  

“Oh Deirdre!” John boomed as he entered the room, her belongings in hand as he strided over to them. “Your purse Deirdre” John offered the bag to Deirdre but Tommy snatched it so Deirdre could even reach out for it. 

Quickly, Tommy’s hand scrambled through the small bag and he tutted to Deirdre at the small vial he discovered. “Still up to your old games…” Tommy commented as he slipped the vial back in. 

With a heavy breath, she hugged John tightly, he hummed against her as he patted her back to reassure her. She had forgotten how badly she missed them. It was shocking to see how they were still the same men from before the war. For once, she felt a brief sensation of relief to see the brothers that she adored dearly. 

A dramatic sigh left Tommy’s lips as he slammed her purse onto the desk. “Ah, no papers yet again. No identity for Miss Deirdre” Tommy mocked, his teeth gritted as he stepped closer to her. 

Deirdre looked up to him as he returned in between her thighs. Those cold paws of his rested on her waist as his eyes analyzed every inch of her body. 

“Get out, I’m still talking to my wife” Tommy demanded, his blue eyes shooting from brother to brother. Arthur muttered whilst John remained silent, a stern expression locked on as he lit a fresh cigarette. 

“Tommy, it’s roaring out there. How about we all just enjoy the night how we intended to. Then tomorrow, we can-”

“Get the car ready” Tommy cut Arthur off. 

John frowned and leant forward, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“The car?” John butted in, his light hanging from his lip. 

“Yes John, the car” Tommy spoke dumbfoundedly. “We are returning to Arrow House immediately” he disclosed as he tugged Deirdre to her feet. 

John moaned out dramatically as he shook his head at Tommy’s desires. 

“Oh Tommy, you can’t be serious!” John argued. “This is our last fookin night!” He hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I won’t repeat myself” Tommy spoke firmly as John huffed in annoyance. 

John stood closely to Tommy, his lips near his ears. 

“Fuck off… I won’t be involved with anymore family affairs tonight” John whispered before abruptly leaving the room. 

Arthur gulped as his eyes darted from Tommy to the open door. Whilst Tommy stood expressionless as his eyes slowly moved to Deirdre’s. Arthur began to stammer as he awkwardly stood before the pair. 

“Go make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless. I’ll see you both back tomorrow” Tommy finalized as he harshly tightened his hold onto Deirdre’s arm and pulled her towards the exit.

Deirdre latched out for her coat and purse quickly as Tommy strided into the hall. A worker stood there with Tommy’s coat and cap. A firm finger pointed to Deirdre in warning as he slid on his coat and peaked cap, his eyes not even shifted an inch off of her. She kept her head low as they exited through the back door into an isolated dark alley, his hand still tight on her bicep.

Her eyes shot to the light to her left and she gulped at the sight of countless bystanders continuing on with their night. Unknowingly, she slowed in her steps, causing Tommy to frown and look back to her. A snort came from Tommy as he shook his head and leant close to her ear.  

“Don’t be foolish, my love” he warned as he tugged her into the darkness. 

Tommy opened the passenger door to his Bently and pushed Deirdre in. As he slammed the door, he again raised his finger in warning before he hurried over to the other side. Another cigarette was lit as Tommy turned on the engine. 

“Will you let me grab my belongings?” Deirdre spoke quietly, her head pointed out the window. 

Tommy’s head snapped towards her. 

“What fucking valuables could you possibly have” he commented, his tone dripping with irritation. 

“Please Tommy” she pleaded, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. 

Tommy muttered, wagging his head to her. When his eyes snapped to hers, he exhaled at her doe eyes accompanied by her anxious hands fiddling together. 

“It better be on the way” he grunted to her. 

As he parked the car outside of the hotel, Tommy was quick to jump out before her. His hand held onto the handle firmly as he yanked the door open for her. Deirdre muttered her gratitude as she slipped out of the car. 

Likewise to a prisoner, Tommy escorted her up to her room. With a shaking hold, Deirdre slid the key into the lock and opened her room. When she tried to slip into the room alone, his foot wedged between the door and frame. 

“Can I not have a moment of privacy” she pressed, muttering curses to herself shortly after. 

Deirdre let go of the door and walked away from Tommy. The door creaked shut as Tommy continued to watch her like a hawk

“You will not run from me again Deirdre…” Tommy reminded her through a cold glare whilst slipping out a cigarette. 

“We’re on the third floor” Deirdre countered with scrunched eyebrows. 

“You have your ways” Tommy murmured as he brushed the end in between his lips before lighting it. 

Tommy’s eyes lingered over the cheap room, his hands firmly on his hips as Deirdre quickly tried to pack up her belongings. Right as she was going to zip up the bag, Tommy nudged her out of the way and pulled it wide open. 

“Oh Thomas… You’re so immature” Deirdre bickered, her arms crossed over her chest as she huffed to him. 

The only response she got was a huff as his hands rambled through her clothing. Until he stopped when he felt something firm. Tommy frowned as he pulled it out, hidden in one of her dresses. Slowly, he lifted up a small piece of silver to her. To his surprise, her back was turned towards him. 

“Do you have a child Deirdre?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to her as he dangled the shining rattle at her. The sound from the toy teased her, he knew it. 

“No” she swallowed, her throat instantly feeling like it was closing in on her. 

“Fucking liar” Tommy snarled as he dropped it back into the bag. 

“I don’t” Deirdre snapped back as her body spun back to him. 

“Sure” Tommy smirked. 

He watched the fire light inside of her as she walked up to him. It was amusing to him, seeing how she walked on a tightrope of emotions. 

“I don’t Thomas” she spoke firmly, her tone sending a warning to him. 

“Alright…” Tommy spoke quietly as he watched her body unknowingly begin to shake. The rattle fell into the bag as Tommy zipped it up. 

Without another word, Tommy led her back to the car. As if they were on a tight schedule, Tommy sped off down the quiet roads. When they were far from the city, the only sources of light being the headlights and moon, Deirdre looked over to him. 

“Where are you taking me Thomas?” She asked. 

It was ignored by him as his hands tightened on the wheel. 

Deirdre rolled her eyes and rested her head against the window. Slowly she fell into an uneasy sleep. 

She dreamt of her husband. Using his belt on her yet again. At this point, Deirdre laid hopelessly on the tiled flooring as he spat out every cruel word from the book to her. She was crying out, begging for mercy, her hands clenched to her stomach.

When she looked down, she screamed at the sight of blood pooled at her legs. Her body trembled, her temperature low as her eyes darted around for her husband. But he was gone. As she looked up, she saw Tommy, watching her with an emotionless face. 

Deirdre called out his name, begged him to help her. But her words were falling silent, her throat tight as she reached out for him. When she tried to crawl to him, her body ached and she fell back onto the tiling. Keeping her hand out in one last attempt of mercy, Tommy took a step back, gradually being consumed by darkness. 

“Deirdre” Tommy whispered. 

Faintly, the back of his hand brushed over her cold cheek. Deirdre mumbled out, but remained asleep against the side of the door. 

“Deirdre, my love… Wake up” Tommy urged, speaking more forcefully now. His hand tapped her cheeks until her tired eyes fluttered open. 

The remembrance of her situation pressed back onto her mind. Deirdre yawned out as she looked out to the mansion, lit majestically in the night sky. Tommy slid closer to her, his lips pressed to her ear as they both looked out. 

“Welcome home, my love” Tommy spoke faintly as she took in her new prison.

[deluweil]

Oh God yes, I am so for Tommy being gone just to have people stop being stupid about Eddie. Which is a pitty because at first I was intrigued by Tommy. Now i just want it to end.

And lol at your tags. I have blocked so many people lately, too. Not even stupid takes during TK era made me block so much. Some of them really take the cake now. All this hate towards Eddie is staggering. And to have the audacity to call eddieblr toxic (and yes, I have seen that and not only buddies are being called toxic these days).

HI there,

I have to say that I was intrigued and even excited for Tommy at first too, but there were a lot of things that just ruined it along the way, amongst them the last minute joiners and Eddie haters fans who just set out to make this place unbearable.

I wouldn't have minded Tommy so much if not for all the toxicity that brought with it and the poor writing and the money for specs from Lou.

Like wth dude, didn't anyone teach you to be correct, you can't justify Tommy's behavior in S2 and pass it as teasing. It's like punching someone in the face in rage or nearly break someone's ankle for attention and call it roughhousing. (not joking, I literally had an ask with someone justifying the white man railroading the POC for attention as roughhousing. - When Buck himself said he wasn't sure it wasn't done on purpose. like wtf?)

lol I live for those tags, everyone say their real thoughts and be funny in tags, it's so much fun.

I literally bonded with that block button, I haven't blocked so many ppl since early S4 and the porn bots attack lol

Ppl need to chill, everyone is entitled to their opinions but are not entitled to force it upon others.

Ship who you want but tag properly and don't be toxic about.

A lot of ppl read X's posts and come to rant about it here, Tumblr is not X, most of the ppl here are ppl who hate X's toxicity. I have deleted my account so many years ago.

We are here to have fun, so I say ship who you want, TAG PROPERLY, and leave us the hell alone.

Eddie/Ryan haters are all blocked so thankfully I don't see those, but if after everything they still hate on Eddie for something Ryan apologized several times for, learned from it and has bettered himself to the point that Aisha posted a thankful for Ryan story once and they have so many pictures together where she hugs him like he's one of the most precious ppl to ever live, than I have to call pure racism.

And that would explain the sudden admiration to the new white man on screen to be paired with the other white man who is by chance also the fan favorite.

Don't get it twisted, I love Oliver and Oliver loves Ryan and Eddie, but one has to wonder about the audience's choice of favorite even as they call against racism and for equality and with the same breath hate on a regular poc character.

I'm hoping this bizarre season ends on a good note, because otherwise S8 may be the last season.

Keeping my fingers crossed.

[hier--soir]

under the night | three

summary: what's dinner between two friends? + joel makes great parsnips pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, smut, oral [f recieving], protected sex, age gap [20ish years], disappearance, angst word count: 8k part two | series masterlist | main masterlist

Fungus.

“That’s not fucking funny, man,” Ellie stared at you, as you tried, and failed, to contain the grin spreading across your face.

You held your hands in the air in faux sheepishness, smirking. “Well,” you said triumphantly. “It’s worth 10 points, and it’s on a double word score square, so 20! Fungus is a winner, I say.” You grabbed the pencil and scribbled your score down, staring victoriously at the scrabble board on the platform between you.

Joel’s front porch was cramped as it was, just enough space for two chairs facing outward; but Ellie had determinedly wedged a small stool between the chairs for you to play on. Scrabble had been her idea, after she came across the old box at a friend’s house a few days prior. It had taken a few trial runs for her to fully get the hang of the rules, and on game four, she was really beginning to enjoy herself. Sitting out in the cool afternoon air three quarters of the way through winter, you were relieved you’d worn a thick beanie. It was crisp out, and after 2-hours of playing, the board had an icy layer of condensation settled on it.

“Sorry, kid,” you winked. “Gotta find a way to use that shit to my advantage somehow.” You took a long sip of your steaming coffee, leaning back in your chair to watch Ellie begin her turn. The girl was taking a painstaking amount of time trying to figure out the correct spelling of her next word, when she grew distracted from noticing Tommy wandering down the street with the newbie by his side. He gave the two of you a wave and sidled up to the bottom step of the porch.

“Kiddos,” he grinned fondly. You huffed lightly at the moniker, considering you were in your thirties yet being grouped in with a teenager. “Y’all met Lincoln yet?”

The man behind Tommy was short and slim, with a shaved head and an easy-going smile that never seemed to leave his face.

“I’m Ellie,” she said, eyes trained on her letters.

You introduced yourself with a polite nod, giving him your undivided attention to make up for Ellie’s lack-there-of.

“Mighty fine to meet you both." His voice was low and hoarse, in a way that sounded like he used to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, and now it surely hurt him to speak.

Tommy butted in quickly. “He came all the way here from Canada, so I thought I’d be hasty with introducing him to some friendly faces.”

“Ooh Canada,” Ellie gave a poor attempt at enthusiasm, and you tried not to laugh at how clearly the girl wanted to end the conversation and play her next word.

Tommy gave her an ungrateful eyeroll, and asked, “Joel in?”

As if by clockwork, the front door of the house opened and the man in question peered out curiously. When he spotted Tommy, he emerged fully, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Tommy grinned, reaching out to grip his brother’s hand quickly. Joel made eye contact with you ever so briefly and offered a small smile, before looking back to his brother.

“Doing a newbie tour?” he queried.

“Y’met Lincoln yet?” Ellie asked, to which he gave a quick nod.

“Please, call me Linc,” the man told them all, his gaze resting on your face for a second longer than the others’. “All my friends do.” You couldn’t tell if you’d imagined it, but you swore you heard a low scoff come from Joel.

“So you came all this way by yourself?” Ellie asked him, finally putting down her letters and giving the group her full attention. Her voice seemed to shine with a sort of curious respect.

Lincoln nodded, his face drooping somewhat. “Been alone for a long time now. My girls, they died a long time ago, in those first few months. By myself ever since.” You noticed Ellie shot a quick wary glance in Joel’s direction, who had turned his face away from the conversation to stare out into his neighbour’s front yard. Weird. “I try not to dwell on things though!” Lincoln said, that cheery smile returning.

You didn't offer up any kind of response, as you mulled over his words. His story wasn't so different from most of the people you knew, but you allowed a short moment of empathy for the stranger. You couldn't imagine the loss that would come from losing a child.

“Well,” Tommy broke the silence. “Let’s continue this tour.”

“I’ll head out with you, I gotta stop by and see Maria,” Joel started down the porch steps, and you tried not to stare at his back as he walked away from the house.

It had been almost two weeks since the night you and Joel had almost kissed, and since then the pair of you had never been alone. It wasn’t purposeful, at least on your part. But you were acutely aware that he would only appear in your presence when he knew there was going to be other people present.

When you thought back on that night, your heart would swell remembering the soft way he spoke to you; the care in his eyes. But it was directly followed by the memory of how you rejected his kiss. Your chest ached with longing at the thought of getting a do over.

The cycle of avoidance ended at last when he noticed you walking the streets by yourself one afternoon.

“Hey there,” he murmured, falling into step beside you. “Where you headed?”

“Just wandering around,” you replied slowly, staring at him in something akin to shock.

“Care for some company?”

“Well, who’d you have in mind?” you teased in an attempt to act casual, ignoring the quick thrum of your heart.

“This grumpy old Texan,” he chuckled. “He doesn’t get out much, but he’s great once you get to know him, I swear.”

You turned your head to grin at him. “Sounds like a riot, I’ll take him.”

The pair of you roamed aimlessly around town for an hour, talking and catching up. Your stomach filled with warmth; you had missed speaking to him. Missed the way your name sounded coming from his mouth.   

“Y’know,” Joel began after a batch of silence. You had almost reached your house, and it seemed the walk was coming to a natural end. “I was wondering if you’d come to the house for dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” you said in surprise, stopping and staring at him. He ground to a halt a few steps ahead of you, and turned awkwardly. "You're asking me to dinner?"

"I am."

"Was this Ellie's idea?"

Joel rubbed his hands together in front of him. “No, uh,” he paused thoughtfully, not quite meeting your eye. “The kid's out tonight. It would… it would just be you and I.”

“I see,” you said, trying to read his expression.

“I understand if-“

"You've been avoiding me." His eyebrows twitched into a frown, and he licked the corner of his lip.

"Not on purpose," he said.

"You've been accidentally avoiding me?" you asked, knowing the wrinkle between your eyebrows was no doubt identical to his.

"I thought you wouldn't want to see me," he finally admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I felt like a fuckin' ass the other night. I overstepped-"

"Joel," you tried to interrupt but he shook his head, continuing.

"No, you needed support, and it wasn't the time or place for that shit, I shouldn't have.... I shouldn't have."

Your heart beat wildly as he spoke. Arms wrapping around yourself to protect from the cool wind, you nodded slowly.

"I appreciate that."

The pair of you were silent for a beat, just watching each other. Joel's eyes seemed to roam over your entire face, and then downward. He stared fondly at your frame wrapped up in his old black jacket, and then said, "Let me cook us dinner."

“That sounds lovely. I’ll be there, Joel.”

His eyes lit up softly, and sweet crow’s feet appeared beside them as he smiled at you.

“It’s just dinner,” you mumbled to yourself in frustration, willing your feet to move. Your legs were locked as you stood on the road, staring at Joel’s front door. “It’s dinner, you love dinner.”

Taking a deep breath, you propelled yourself forward and rapped your knuckles sharply against the door. Your skin was hot underneath the layers of clothes you wore.

When it swung open, relief washed over you like cold water, and you were delighted to see Joel standing there. Damp hair slicked back, with a clean bottle green shirt hugging his body. Most times you saw him he'd be dressed in the same old clothes, with dirt and grime smeared across his skin from long days of work. The difference was stark, and it made your throat feel tight. So fucking handsome.

He said your name simply, staring you down.

“Joel,” you imitated his tone, holding back a laugh at the odd greeting. “Hope you remembered inviting me over.”

He rolled his eyes, and you swore you saw a faint flush rise in his cheeks. Clearly, he’d been expecting you; that much could be told by his appearance, and by how clean the house was when you stepped inside.

The cushions on the couch were fluffed and placed neatly, rather than haphazardly like normal. It even looked like he’d dusted the bookshelves. 

“Something smells delicious,” you inhaled deeply, turning to see him wringing his hands nervously. He nodded his head towards the kitchen, encouraging you to follow him.

“It’s almost done, just needs some finishing touches.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“Rabbit.”

You enjoyed the smells of roasting meat as he worked in the kitchen. He piled the food onto two plates with careful precision, before picking them up and leading you to the table. With a swell in your chest, you saw that he’d already set two places with cutlery and glassware. Seeing this side of him, this domesticity, was almost unnerving. It was like a trapdoor had been opened, and he’d ushered you inside quickly, exposing a secret, soft, part of his personality. You felt privileged to have it bared to you.

“This looks lovely, Joel, thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he replied brusquely.

“Well, I will anyway,” you retorted. “This looks better than anything I could ever cook.” You dug in eagerly, and an involuntary moan slipped past your lips as the flavour of the rabbit hit your tastebuds for the first time.

While you ate, you took the time to notice more details of his home. It wasn’t very cluttered, but small sentimental items were placed around. It felt so intimate to be there. You’d been in the house before, but it had always been brief. A pause in the kitchen while Ellie grabbed her bag from the bungalow, or a quick rifle through the pantry for a tea bag before you returned to the porch. Being able to sit, and take it all in, felt so good.

You discussed his patrols, your work at the stables. He asked if you'd made anymore friends, and smiled when you told him Ellie was your favourite person in Jackson. The conversation was light, and non-committal. Where you both avoided chit chat with everyone else in town, it seemed to be all you could do for that first hour in each other’s company.

And amidst it all, the silent tension between you seemed to have spiked again. All your shy, private interactions around Jackson for the past few months. All the smiles, and hushed laughs, and eyerolls. All the times you’d shamefully admired his looks, his strong hands. The almost kiss and the conversation from earlier danced around your mind while he spoke to you. Was tonight the night it all came to a head?

“So,” he said. “How was the rest of your day? After your walk, I mean.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “To be honest, I was just waiting around the house before I could come over here.”

“You could’ve come earlier,” he said.

“And crash your spring-cleaning session?” you scoffed teasingly. “I couldn’t possibly.”

That flush returned to his cheeks, and he took a quick sip from his glass of water. “No shame in keeping a clean house.”

“No shame at all,” you murmured with a smirk, knowing damn well you and Cal’s house looked like a pair of wild animals lived in it. Clothes strewn haphazardly around; dirty mugs littered across the kitchen counter.

You ate in silence for a while after that. The food was incredible. A medley of herbs and spices speckled the tender meat, and he'd glazed parsnips in honey and thyme. They were sweet and sticky and reminded you of something your mom made when you were a kid. You savoured every single bite.

Unable to help it, your eyes fell closed and you hummed happily, sinking back into the chair. Cutlery clinking against a plate made you look up, and you found Joel with an empty plate, watching you with a fond expression.

“What?” you reddened, placing your knife and fork carefully onto your now sparkling clean plate.

“Nothing,” he murmured. “It’s nice to… to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Joel seemed to struggle for the words, scratching his beard absentmindedly. “… happy. It’s nice to see you smilin’.” His eyes flicked ever-so-slightly down, and you knew he was looking at the scar on your cheek.

“Oh,” you whispered, mouth slightly ajar with surprise. You went to say something, anything, but he interrupted quickly, chair scraping against the hardwood floors as he stood up.

“Are you finished?” He took your plate before you could answer, and stalked into the kitchen.

As you rose to follow him you flinched at the sound of metal clattering against the ground. Joel was crouched in the kitchen, picking up a knife from the floor. He grunted with the effort, knees cracking sharply as he straightened up.

“I feel like such an old man sometimes,” he grumbled, tossing the cutlery into the sink.

You sidled up beside him and rested your palms against the counter, gazing at the side of his expressionless face. 

“Well, how about I wash, and you dry. Sound good old man?” you winked, using his own words against him. He cracked a half smile and looked over to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “Sounds good.”

You worked in a comfortable quiet, cleaning the dishes and tidying up his kitchen. For a minute, you began to worry that maybe the two of you had finally run out of mindless topics to entertain yourselves with. Your stomach twisted faintly at the thought of the night coming to an end so quickly.

But in the instant that the kitchen was restored to its natural order, Joel squashed down that feeling.

“Stay for a whiskey?” he offered, and you revelled in what you thought was hope in his tone. Your mind flashed back to that night weeks before, when you’d been desperate for him not to leave your home. You could stay a bit longer if you want to.

“How about a wine?” you smiled bashfully.

“Let’s see what I got.”

He disappeared up the stairs and returned a few minutes later holding a dusty bottle of red wine up in the air. You let out a low whistle, nodding in approval. Joel removed the cork with ease, and soon enough you were reclining beside each other on his couch, enjoying the deep fermented berry flavours of the wine. He’d started a small fire in the hearth, and it crackled quietly, offsetting the awkward tension permeating between you. You could feel sweat dampening your palms, but you pushed down the feelings of nervousness, hoping he wasn’t noticing the effect this prolonged alone time with him was having on you.

“I can’t remember the last time I drank good wine,” you sighed wistfully, licking your lips greedily. You heard him clear his throat, and caught him staring at your mouth with dark eyes.

“Been a while for me too,” he admitted, eyes lifting to meet your gaze. “Stick with liquor most of the time. But this… this is definitely nice.”

You hummed happily into your glass.

“You know,” he started. “What you were saying earlier, about just waiting around before coming over here… you could have, you know?”

“Could have what?”

“You could’ve come over,” he cleared his throat. “This place is… you’re always… you’re welcome here.”

“Well, that’s sweet and all, but I wouldn’t want to impose on you or Ellie.”

“Ellie adores you,” he stated firmly.

Your mouth moved without your permission, forming the words too quickly for your brain to register. “And you?”

He frowned slightly, “And me?”

“I’m welcome here because Ellie adores me…” you trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the gap. Half a glass of wine, and it seemed you were more forward than you’d ever been with him. But the game of cat and mouse was getting old, and you figured maybe this was your chance to gain some clarity on the situation.

Dinner and wine between…two friends? What was this?

“I think you…” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, before turning to face you front on. “I think you’re lovely.”

His big brown eyes shined with earnest, gazing endlessly into your own.

“What does that mean?” you pushed further, grip on your wine glass tightening. You couldn’t read his face. Those eyes seemed to darken, and he took a deep breath.

“It means you’re always welcome here.” He was talking in circles, and he seemed to realise it too, shutting his eyes and grimacing. “I’m no good at this,” he admitted with a humourless chuckle. “What I’m trying to say is that I like it... when you’re around. I like being near you.”

You could tell from how tight he gripped his glass, that it wasn’t an easy admission for him to make. Yet his voice was laced with sincerity.

He continued softly, “I don’t… talk to people, the way I talk to you. I didn’t think it was something I could do anymore. But it feels so… easy, with you. Easy to just be around you. It don’t make sense to me.”

You could see the weight of Joel’s honesty; how it manifested in his hunched shoulders. He was scared to say these things.

“I like being near you too,” you reciprocated, body instinctively shifting toward him. You were perched precariously, with your chest tilted forward, all your weight balancing on your right hand that gripped the sofa cushion in between you. “I was worried I made you think otherwise.”

He didn’t speak for a moment, eyes darting wildly across your face before his gaze settled solidly on your mouth. Intuitively, your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. “I like being near you,” he repeated slowly. “And… I gotta say, I’m nervous as hell to try my luck at kissin’ you again.”

Heat flared inside your stomach, and that was all you needed to push forward and press your lips against his.

Joel’s lips always looked chapped, but they were soft, and pushed eagerly against your own. For a moment, that was all it was. Your lips pressed gently against each other's, soft breaths rushing from your nose. He pulled back, and stared at you with a contemplative expression. Smiling shyly, your hand landed on his knee and squeezed it gently.

And then he placed his hand on your cheek, tilting your head ever so slightly to the side, and kissed you again.

You sighed as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, before eagerly pushing into your mouth. The taste of red wine and parsnips invaded your mouth, and you reached up to place a hand on the side of his neck. His thumb stroked your cheekbone softly, fingers drifting into the hair behind your ear, cradling your face. You could feel his pulse racing under the skin, and gasped wetly into the kiss as his free hand landed on your waist. Devastated to break the moment, you pulled back for a breath of air, scraping your teeth across his bottom lip, and nipping it gently.

Joel grunted, gripping your waist and pulling you across the couch so you were above him, hovering over his lap. While you took deep breaths, he pressed sweet kisses along your cheek, down your chin, and to the skin of your neck. He was insatiable, not taking his mouth off you for a second.

You trailed your hands through his dark hair, smiling at the soft groan that he let out in response to the sensation. You did it once, twice more, wanting to hear the noise again, but suddenly he pulled off from your skin. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, and he ran his fingers lightly along your clothed hips while staring up at you. His eyes were heavy with longing, lips wet from your kisses, and you were certain it was the most attractive he'd ever looked.

“What are we doing here?” Joel asked quietly, licking his lower lip. A laugh sprinkled from your mouth, and he joined in, the sounds mixing beautifully in the air. He was chuckling, but his eyes shone with uncertainty, searching yours for clarity. 

“What do you mean, Joel?”

“I mean, what are we doing?” he echoed. It clicked. The last time you'd been this close you had trusted Joel, told him about your past. And here he was, giving you an out. He was saying, you’re the boss, you tell me what happens next. You could feel your pulse thrum between your thighs.

“What you say goes,” he said softly, reaching up to trace his fingers over the scar on your cheekbone.

“I want you,” your voice cracked on the third word, and if your cheeks weren’t already red from the excitement of the kiss, you would’ve blushed at how needy it sounded. But your tone was sure, and Joel nodded once, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

He pulled you closer so your chests were flush against one another, and you rested your forehead against his. “You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you saying those words.”

You shook your head at him in mock exasperation, but really, you just didn’t know how to respond to that. So instead of speaking, you kissed him again. You looped your arms lazily around his neck and pushed your tongue into his mouth, stealing the breath from his lungs. He made you feel desperate.

Joel’s hands drifted from your waist down your back, resting carefully just above the waist band of your pants. You reached back and took his hand, pushing it down to rest lower. Quickly, he slid both of his hands into your back pockets, gripping your ass through your pants.

You whimpered into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily. He removed the space between your lower halves, pulling you down so you rubbed against him. The feeling of him, firm beneath the zipper of his jeans, sent a jolt through your system. He ground up against you, breathing heavily against your lips, eyes open and watching your reactions. For a moment you felt a wave of shyness rush through your system. For years, no one had seen this side of you. The vulnerability was intense, and you tucked your face against his neck. Joel gripped your chin and pushed your face back into his line of sight, shaking his head.

“Let me see you,” he breathed. “I don’t wanna miss a single thing.”

Holding eye contact, he dragged his fingers across your belt, and started undoing the leather strap. Your hand stopped over his.

“Not here,” you said. “Upstairs.” He gripped the back of your thighs and stood up from the couch in a swift movement, walking you up the stairs. You peppered kisses along his neck, swiping your tongue along the pulsing artery under his tanned skin.

Once he reached the landing, he used his back to nudge the bedroom door open, and you couldn’t help but pull back to look at your surroundings. You tapped his shoulder absentmindedly, and he lowered you gently to your feet. As if Joel no longer existed, you let youe eyes roam across the room, hungrily taking in all the details of his most private space.

Passing by a walk-in closet, you trailed your fingertips overtop his bedside table, landing on a pair of glasses folded up beside a book. You lifted it carefully.

“An Idiot’s Guide to Space,” you read aloud, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

He was leaning against the wall, one hand propped on his hip, with a leg jutted out in front of him. His chest rose and fell quickly as he struggled to catch his breath. Irresistible, but not as irresistible as going through his things.

Sheepishly, he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Ellie loves space,” Joel told you. “Helps if I can understand a little of what she’s talkin’ ‘bout.” 

“You really love that kid, huh?”

He didn’t respond, but his eyes were soft, staring at the book when you placed it back down.

A large window covered the wall opposite his bed, with a chest of drawers beneath it. You spotted two picture frames sitting on it and wandered towards them. But before you got too close, Joel’s arms had wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

His lips tickled your earlobe, his hot breath making goosebumps raise along your neck. “I want you,” he repeated your words from earlier.

You spun in his grip and pushed him into a seated position on the edge of the bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt. With the skin of his torso revealed to you, you gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your head. Joel’s lips were on your chest, kissing along your collarbones, along the tops of your breasts, as his hands fiddled with your bra strap.

After a few seconds of struggling he sighed in frustration and looked up at you. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” You grinned, and undid the strap yourself, throwing the bra somewhere behind you.

A heavy exhale fell from him, and he trailed his fingers over your pebbled nipples. The cold air in the room did you no favours, but Joel seemed exhilarated, pinching one between his fingers, and leaning in to flick his tongue over the other. You squeezed his shoulder and gasped at the feeling of his teeth gently nipping at your bud. As he licked and sucked, his hands drifted down to finish undoing your belt. He tugged and pushed your trousers down your legs, and your underwear went with them. Within a second, you were completely naked in front of him. Joel pulled back and let his dark eyes run over your body.

“I want you on the bed.”

You settled yourself in the middle of it, head tucked into his soft pillows and stared up at him in anticipation.

Under his intense gaze, your skin felt hot. Like whispers of a flame were tickling along your body; heat rising everywhere his eyes roamed. Joel kneeled on the mattress in front of you, and his large hands gripped your knees, pulling them apart. The urge to lean down and cover yourself was strong. But then he reached out and traced his fingers along your torso, from your collarbone, past your belly button, to the dark hair above where you wanted him most.

“My god,” he whispered in what seemed like disbelief. “You’re a dream.”

He pressed teasing kisses down your stomach, along the inside of your thighs, dragging his tongue tantalisingly, making goosebumps ripple out across your flesh. Puffed breaths were whispering along your skin everywhere except where you needed his mouth to be, and you were aching. You clenched around nothing, and let out a pitiful whimper when he finally exhaled over your wet heat.

Suddenly, his tongue licked a solid stripe all the way along your throbbing core, and you cried out. Finally.

“Fuck,” he groaned, inhaling deeply. His tongue was strong, shifting between swiping back and forth across your pulsing clit, and gently prodding into your entrance. Joel pulled one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, and held his palm against the other one, pinning it to the bed. His fingers dug into your skin, and the pressure only added to the sensation of his mouth on you.

“Joel,” you breathed heavily. He moaned into you in response, rubbing small circles over your clit with his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, eyes rolling back as you rocked your hips up against his face.  “Fuck.” His hand moved from your thigh up to your chest, pinching and playing with your nipples as he fucked you with his mouth. Joel was ravenous and unrelenting, and after living so long without being touched by another person, you felt yourself close to orgasm within minutes.

“Give it to me,” he begged. “Cum for me, baby.”

After a few more seconds of his tongue dragging gloriously over you, you let out a deep moan and shuddered into the sheets, thighs tightening impossibly around his head. Your fingers raked through his hair, holding his face into you as you rode out your high. Somewhere through the pounding in your ears, you could hear Joel moaning with you, and feel the vibrations running through your core. When you finally came down, your thighs relaxed over his shoulders, but he wasn’t done. His tongue flicked lazily over your clit, cleaning you up. He pulled your aching bud between his lips, and gave it a soft suck. The sight of his face pressed into your dark curls made you feel like you were going to cum all over again.

“Joel,” you gasped, grabbing his hair to tug his face away from you. He looked up, slack jawed, with a deep frown across his forehead. His mouth and beard were shining with your slick, and your stomach tightened at what a vision he was.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I need to feel you,” you implored, and the frown disappeared. He leaned in and pressed one final sloppy kiss against your clit, before sitting back on his heels. You sat up hastily, helping him undo his belt, and then watched with heavy eyes as he stood up and removed his final articles of clothing.

His cock slapped up against his stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you hungrily stared at it. It didn’t surprise you that he was big. Something about the way he carried himself; so confident, so sure of himself. He was thick, and long, and your mouth salivated when you noticed precum leaking from the ruddy tip. You watched as he got back onto the bed, trailing his fingers down the length of it before gripping it at the base, and sighing in relief.

You flicked your eyes back up to his, exhilarated to see how intensely he was staring back at you. “I want to taste you,” you breathed, but he shook his head, bicep tensing as he lazily stroked his cock. “Please.”

“Trust me,” he grunted, eyebrows furrowed. “I hate myself for saying no, but you’ve got me so on edge already, darlin’. Had to stop myself from finishin’ with your thighs wrapped around my head.”

Your core throbbed painfully and you pushed forward, kissing him firmly. The taste of your own cum on your tongue made you moan softly; licking the tang off his lips, and swallowing it down.

You pulled away and slowly lowered down until your head hit the pillows. Joel stared down at you with parted lips and shook his head slowly.

“What?”

“Nothin',” he murmured, still shaking his head. “So beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you turned your face into the pillows. He hovered over you and pressed wet kisses along your exposed neck, his teeth nipping harshly at the juncture where it met your shoulder. You hissed at the pain, but sighed softly in forgiveness when he lapped his tongue soothingly over the spot. You watched Joel pull a condom from his bedside table, leaning back to rip open the packet, and slide the latex down onto himself.

With his cock in his fist, he pushed his tip between your folds, and you exhaled in unison at the feeling. After dragging his head along you a few times, he finally nudged his tip against your entrance. Your head was pressed back into the pillows, eyes shut and mouth wet from his kisses. You were blissed out already, but fluttered your eyes open slowly at the feeling of his fingers running over your left eyebrow.

“You with me?” he murmured, the soft look in his eyes almost too much for you to handle.

You hummed, turning your head slightly to press a kiss against his palm.

“Gotta relax for me,” he urged softly, tracing his fingers down gently over your collarbones, wanting to feel every bit skin that had been revealed to him.

You eased your tense muscles as much as you could, taking a deep breath before letting it rush out of you slowly. And with your exhale, he slipped inside you with one smooth motion. You gasped at the feeling, mouth hanging open in an 'O' shape at the sharp sting.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your eyelids. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” you groaned, relaxing your furrowed eyebrows. “It’s just been so long.”

The pain was already shifting into a faint, dull ache, melding beautifully with the pleasure of being so full. He readjusted his legs, and the movement caused his tip to prod gently into the deepest part of you, and you cried out.

“Fuck,” he gasped, moving to pull back, but you gripped his shoulders tightly to keep him in place.

“Feels good,” you gasped, licking her lips. “You’re so big, filling me up so well.” He swallowed back a pitiful moan.

Joel was thick and heavy inside you, and he knew better than to move too quickly. He let you adjust to him for a few more moments, enjoying watching the way your nose scrunched up and your chest heaved with harsh breaths. You were wet and hot around him, and he felt like a teenager losing his virginity again after his few years of celibacy. But he was determined to give you his all.

“God, please move,” you finally groaned, reaching up to play with your nipples out of desperation.

Without any more encouragement, he pulled back slowly, until just the tip remained inside, before pushing himself forward into your heat. You moaned in unison, your hands travelling down to his biceps. He started a steady rhythm, his eyes floating down to stare hungrily at the way your chest bounced with the force of his movements. Joel leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, circling it with his tongue and groaning as you pulsed around him. Your fingers pulled his hair painfully tight, and the feeling made the muscles in his stomach tingle. 

He was so deep inside, and yet you ground your hips up towards him, wanting to feel him even further. It had his hips stuttering against yours, and he let out a low vibrating groan. Joel’s hands gripped against your hip bones and pressed you down into the bed, seemingly holding you away from him.

“Baby,” he ground out, and it was more of a warning than anything else.

“You can’t do that,” he panted. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doin’ that.”

You smirked lazily up at him and pushed your hips up against his weight again, meeting him stroke for stroke. There was no pain anymore, just a heavenly feeling of fullness, and you were desperate for him to let lose. “Maybe I don’t want you to last.”

“God, woman,” he scowled. “You’ll be the death of me, I know it.”

He pulled out and then thrust back into you with enough force to knock the breath out of you, and you bit your lip to hold in the high-pitched moan trying to escape.

“Let me hear you,” he ordered. “I want to hear you cum for me again, just give me one more, and then I’m yours.”

You let go of your bottom lip, letting whines and sighs fall easily from your mouth. The fire in Joel’s chest roared, loving the way you allowed the tables to turn, and obeyed him so quickly. It was so out of your character to be submissive to anyone. The thought that he had as much of an effect on you as you had on him made his cock throb painfully.

The feeling was so overwhelming you could barely keep your eyes open. He was fast, and strong, but you weren’t afraid, you were activated. Your abdomen was tight with the pleasure, and he pounded into you relentlessly. Suddenly, his cock was pressing into that spot again, and you let out an urgent exhale of his name.

“There?” he growled, angling his hips to hit it again, and again, and again. You moaned desperately, spreading your thighs wider to give him more access.

You’d forgotten every word except for Joel’s name, and you said it over and over. He had reconnected you to something so deep, so animalistic inside of you. Desire was something that hadn’t properly crossed your mind in years, only for brief moments when you rubbed one out quickly in rare moments alone. Not for a long time had you felt wanted – nor had you wanted someone the way you did with him. 

Without warning, his fingers met your clit and began rubbing messy circles on it while he snapped his hips. It was all too much, and you cried out harshly as the tightening in your abdomen grew. 

Your mouth was on his neck, and all you could taste was Joel’s salty skin when you finally came. Your body wracked with convulsions, the muscles in your stomach spasming intensely as he fucked you through your high.

His thrusts grew sloppy, and his face looked pained, sweat rolling down his biceps. He shifted so his elbows were in the pillows beside your head, and his forehead knocked against yours with every shift of his hips. One of his hands tangled in the hair at the back of your head, holding you in position while he pressed a sloppy kiss to your open mouth. Your orgasm was prolonged as he pounded against the spongy spot inside of you, and you were twitching, close to becoming over sensitive.

“God,” he moaned into your mouth. “You’re squeezing me so tight.” 

You mewled weakly at his words, purposefully clenching around him in response. 

It didn’t take long for Joel to follow you off the edge, mouth ajar as deep groans spilled from his lips. His face dropped into your shoulder, and you sighed at the feeling of him spilling inside you. He said your name softly, delicately, into your ear, his voice more gravelly than normal from exertion. For a moment, with sticky skin pressed together, and eyes closed in exhaustion, your heavy breaths were the only audible thing in the room.

Slowly, you cracked your eyes open to look around, and admired the way the moonlight shone through the window and hit his bare back. You trailed your fingers down his spine, enjoying the way goosebumps rippled across his flesh and he shivered.

“You ticklin’ me?”

You laughed into his hair. “Just enjoying all this skin.”

He hummed thoughtfully, lifting an arm to trail his hand along your side in reciprocation. “I’m enjoyin’ it too.”

He pushed up onto his elbows and slowly pulled himself out of you. Your breath hitched at the sensation, the pain from earlier returning ever so slightly now that the heat of the moment had dissipated. 

“You good?” he asked softly, falling back onto his heels.

“I’m great,” you smiled, watching him pull the condom off carefully and duck into the bathroom to dispose of it.

He padded softly back into the room a few moments later with a cloth in his hands, and used it to gently wipe down your skin. You flinched at the feeling of the warm cloth between your thighs, and he apologised in a hushed tone, working quickly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, staring at him fondly. In that quiet moment, you took the opportunity to admire him properly. His body was thick and strong, all muscles underneath scarred, tanned skin. He had large strong thighs and biceps, but his stomach was soft, and you liked that.

“What’re you lookin’ at stud?” he raised an eyebrow and you smirked cheekily.

“Admiring you is all.”

He shook his head, disappearing off to the bathroom again. You tugged the covers up over yourself and laid there alone for a moment, head clear of thoughts, and sleep so close on the horizon.

“You’re staying?” you heard him, and looked over to see him standing in the doorway.

Your eyebrow jutted up questioningly. “Joel Miller, if you think I’m walking home after all that, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

He let out a quick laugh, and pushed himself under the covers beside you. His hand slid from your thigh up your body before resting gently over your ribcage, thumb stroking along the underside of your breast.

“Good,” he mumbled into his pillow. “Don’t want you to go.”

You woke with a sharp inhale, eyes flicking around the room slowly. Still in the chokehold of a deep sleep, you yawned into your elbow and sat up slowly. The night before came rushing back to you, and you turned to see Joel sleeping soundly beside you. He slept on his front, with one arm tucked underneath his head, and face squished up into the pillow. Lips puffed out, deep breaths inhaling and exhaling through them. You stared at him for a few moments, admiring how peaceful he looked in his slumber.

He let out a sudden harsh breath, and an incoherent murmur escaped his mouth.

“What are you dreaming about?” you whispered. Reaching out, you let your fingertips whisper along the skin of his back, down his spine as far as you were allowed, to where the blanket covered him. You traced a line over a particularly bad scar on his back, and cringed to picture how he’d gotten it.

“Was dreamin’ bout you,” he said suddenly. “Until you woke me up.”

You gasped, sitting up straighter.

“Christ, I thought you were asleep.”

Joel smiled, eyes still closed.

“And what was I doing in this dream of yours, Miller?”

His tongue slipped out to wet his lips, before settling back into a lazy grin. Slowly, Joel’s bleary eyes opened to look up at you. “Was a continuous replay of last night. I wish you hadn’t woken me up, actually. Was quite enjoyin’ myself.” His voice was husky from sleep, and it sent a jolt of heat through your stomach.

“Oh, is that so?” you jokingly huffed, pushing the blankets off your body. “In that case, I’ll get out of your hair and let you sleep.” But before you could get off the mattress, his arms snaked around you, slamming you back into his chest.

“Not so fast, soldier,” Joel mumbled sleepily, pressing gentle kisses onto the skin behind your ear and tugging the duvet up over your heads.

The stairs creaked loudly as you walked down them, an hour later. Your clothes felt stale on your body; stiff after being discarded on the cool hardwood floors overnight. Your skin was cold, begging you to climb back into the bed where Joel still laid naked, tucked up under the covers.

You were halfway to the front door when Ellie’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Fucking finally.”

You turned quickly, trying hard to display an expression of stoic nonchalance. She was splayed across the couch with her legs kicked up onto the arm rest, grinning over a copy of Savage Starlight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”

“Sure, sure,” she chuckled, lifting the comic up to hide her face behind it. “I may be a kid, but I know what it means to sneak out of someone’s house at 8 in the morn-“

“I’m not sneaking out,” you interrupted coolly, your face flaming at the insinuation. Ellie lowered the comic just enough for her eyes to be visible, and raised one eyebrow at you.

“I see.”

“Shut up,” is all you could get out, and threw yourself out the front door, Ellie’s loud laughter following you onto the street. 

It was a particularly chilly morning, and you gripped your black jacket around yourself tightly. You’d promised Maria the day before to stop by for a tea, and although you longed to be at home for a moment before work, you headed quickly to Tommy and Maria’s.

Knocking once on the front door, you let yourself in, calling out a quick “hello!” so as not to alarm anyone.

“In the kitchen!” Maria’s voice shouted back, and you rubbed your red hands together for warmth, traipsing through the house. When you reached the kitchen, you were surprised to see Maria wasn’t alone. A young woman sat at the dining table, gripping a steaming mug and staring at the table. Her face was red and blotchy. You lingered awkwardly in the doorway, glancing at Maria for direction.

“It’s okay, have you met Rose?” Maria ushered you in.

“No,” you replied slowly.

“You work at the stables,” Rose perked up suddenly, her stare firmly stuck on you.

“Yes,” you replied dumbly. Your mind was blank as you stared at the stranger, wondering who she was and how she knew anything about you.

“Have you seen Milena?” you asked desperately.

Your hackles lowered slowly, and you glanced at Maria curiously before shaking your head no. Milena worked at the stables with you. She was one of the women who taught you the ropes, and helped you get familiar with grooming the horses.

The tension in the room was thick, and you looked away quickly when Rose sniffled, and reached up to wipe a tear from her eye. I shouldn’t be here.

“She’s m-missing,” Rose stuttered out wetly. Maria walked up behind her and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Rose found a note that Milena left for her,” Maria explained softly. “She’s been gone for a day now.”

“She didn’t write that note,” Rose raised her voice. Your heart raced in your chest. You stared at Maria’s face, and tried to gage how you should be reacting to the information. Sweat slicked your palms when you noticed the warily anxious expression the woman wore.  “I swear she didn’t, she wouldn’t write that shit. She wouldn’t leave me here alone. Not after,” she paused as a sob wracked through her body. “Not after everything we went through to g-get here.”

“She left Jackson?” you asked. “Did she say where she was going?” Milena hadn’t mentioned anything around the stables about planning to leave the settlement. And Milena was chatty. You had often shied away from her when you shared a shift, because of how much Milena tried to pry into your personal life.

Rose didn’t respond, dropping her face into her hands, shoulders wracking with sobs. The display of emotion set you on edge. You felt like an intruder on such an intense moment for Rose and took a step backward into the doorway.

“I’m going to go,” you murmured when Maria made eye contact with you. She nodded in understanding, leaning down to whisper in Rose’s ear. You spun on your heel and walked quickly toward the front door.

“Please believe me, Maria,” you could hear Rose saying. “To just leave without saying goodbye? Milena would never do that.”

You let the door fall shut behind you. 

part four | series masterlist

[hp-hcs]

Please more Tom riddle x ftm Reader 😩

vine? what’s that, like, herbology? (chapter four of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

uh okay so i accidentally gave tom religious trauma so that’s a thing in here

imagine being cool and requesting lmfao couldnt be yall

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What in the Goddamn Hell did you do?!”

You fall off of your bed with a shriek when a pillow hits you straight in the face with a whap!

You hit the floor with a solid thunk, picking up your nearest weapon—a single converse sneaker—and chucking it at Harry, who’s practically dying laughing on his bed.

Tom looks alarmed, partially at your fall, partially at the abhorrent language. Glancing down at where you’re sprawled on the floor—when you’d been sitting on your bed beside him just moments ago—Tom shifts his gaze to an overdramatic, whining Harry, clutching his shin and pouting like a petulant child, then finally, settling his gaze on a furious, fuming, irate Gryffindor girl with bushy hair.

“You Goddamn fucking dumbass-” the mystery girl arms herself with more pillows, chucking them at you with a surprising amount of force. When Harry laughs again, at your expense, he receives a pillow to the face as well.

She stands in the center of the boys’ dorm, her hands clenched into fists and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply, Tom wonders for a second if she’ll start steaming at the ears like the characters in newspaper comics do. Who is this girl, who so freely speaks the Lord’s name, as if she isn’t afraid of being beaten?

Hovering in the doorway to the boys’ dorm is an apprehensive redhead, who flounders for what to do for a moment before slowly joining the angry girl at her side like a demure, kicked stray. Tom tilts his head as he examines the two newcomers. The redhead… yes… yes, this must be one of the little Weasley girl’s older brothers. Which one, he’d never be able to guess.

The angry girl was currently cursing out Harry, Y/N, Tom, and God, which, Tom found rather egregious; but it was also a bit exciting, seeing someone do something so taboo.

“And you,” Angry Girl whirled around, her index finger pointing straight at Tom.

(Tom was a year older than Angry Girl. He had to be at least a foot and half taller than her. He came from a time of Nazis and economic depressions, for Christ’s sakes. Regardless, Angry Girl absolutely terrified Tom out of his wits.)

“You, you insufferable, good-for-nothing reprobate! You motherfucking scuzzy lowlife snake!”

Tom scrambled backwards on your bed as Angry Girl took a few purposeful steps forward, her finger in his face.

Honestly, her language was appalling. Who was this girl? A street urchin? Certainly not well-mannered, that was for sure.

“You utter pig! Don’t look at me like that! Oh no, I’m speaking right now. Be quiet!”

Tom was at a loss for words. He just stared, wide eyed, mouth agape as this unknown girl cursed him out and damned him to the deepest parts of Hell.

“‘Mione, lay off the poor guy. I think he gets it,” you said dryly, apparently in no concern to rush to Tom’s aid, if the game of… poker? you were currently playing on the floor with Harry and the Weasley boy was anything to go by.

Angry Girl, ‘Mione, as you had called her, stopped talking, but she still looked furious. She whirled around, a single angry look making the Weasley boy and Potter scramble to shove the cards back into their box. You seemed unbothered though, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bored expression.

How the Hell were you not terrified of this girl?

“Oh, no,” ‘‘Mione’ said with a humorless chuckle. “You don’t get to say anything either. I leave you alone for an hour- You told me you were helping Harry clean out his trunk!”

“Well I was!” You defended. “It just so happened that good ol’ Tommy-boy’s diary was in Harry’s trunk. So really, you should be, like, yelling at him, for being so irresponsible as to still have it.”

“Oh, I’ll get to him shortly,” she snapped. “But you, dear brother-”

(Brother? Tom wondered. He could only vaguely see the resemblance, but when you ran your fingers through your short hair and it started to puff up, it finally clicked. Twins.)

“-you resurrected the guy who tried to fucking kill a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds! The same guy who tried to kill Harry as an infant- Jesus fucking Christ, this is why you’re not in Ravenclaw you dumb fuck-”

Tom gaped at her profanity. Not only using the Lord’s entire name, but giving Him a middle name that was a curse? The blaspheme this girl spoke was extraordinary.

‘‘Mione’ ran her hand down her face in exasperation. “There is a collective total of three brain cells in this room…”

“And all of them are yours?” You muttered sardonically.

“…and all of them ar- hey, that’s my line.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a loud exhale, closing her eyes. “Okay. Okay. Oka-”

“If you say ‘okay’ one more time, I’m punching you.”

Mother Mary, this boy was awfully violent. Nearly as bad as his sister.

“Right. Start from the beginning, please,” her tone made it obvious that it was not a request, but a demand. “Oh- Ronald, really. What are you two doing?”

The Weasley boy, Ronald, looked up—as did Harry—at her scathing tone. They were both still sat on the floor, but now had a garishly bright magazine between them and appeared to be solving a crossword together.

“Two bros, chillin’ on the floor, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” you chimed in, with an odd sing-song voice that Tom was baffled by.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N,” Harry mumbled under his breath, his quill scratching on the magazine’s page and the ink turning green as he scribbled in the correct answer to number ten across.

‘‘Mione’ sat down on the floor next to Ronald, sighing heavily. She snapped her fingers at Tom, pointing at him, then making a sharp motion down towards the floor. “Sit down here, Thomas. You’re not sitting at a higher level than anyone else.”

Tom wordlessly slipped down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged with wide eyes as he scooted as far away from her as possible, which, coincidentally, was right next to you.

‘‘Mione’ seemed caught off guard when she saw Tom’s loaned clothes: green flannel pajama pants, a thick knit sweater with an ‘F’ on it, and fuzzy blue socks with penguins on them.

He was not intimidating in the slightest.

It’s kind of hard to be intimidating fifty years in the future, especially when future you is way scarier that current you.

But Tom digressed.

~~~

“DON’T FUCK WITH ME! I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE!”

“We are not quoting Vines when we break into Malfoy Manor, Y/N,” Hermione, as her full name turned out to be, let out a long-suffering sigh.

You pout, your lower lip sticking out.

Tom nearly chokes on his tea when he sees this, his cheeks flaming red as he hurriedly wills away any depraved thoughts.

Don’t look don’t look don’t look don’t look oh dear God don’t loo- don’t take the Lord’s name in vain either Thomas! Oh no oh no no no-

He can almost hear his old headmistress at Wool’s chastising him after boxing his ears.

“You’re a child of God, Thomas Marvolo! Do not speak His name in vain!”

But you know what? Jesus fucking Christ, he hated his Goddamn name.

Tom let himself look up from his tea mug at you, let his gaze fall from your mirthful eyes to your pouting lips.

Oh.

Goddamnit, I’m fucked.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter five

[swiftieblyth]

London

warnings- Fluff, being cold, Tom being a gentleman, mean and kinda sexist reporters

Tom had invited you to come with him on his world tour for TBOSAS and of course you couldn’t say no. The two of you had been dating for over a year and a half and you had adopted a puppy. You both loved and spoiled your little baby puppy with all the love in the world, and you knew she couldn’t go a long time without her daddy. And honestly neither could you, so of course you said yes.

Tom was so excited to take you to London and show you part of his home country. And of course you were exited too. Not only was Tom letting you come with you on his world tour, but you got to go to London for the first time with your lover. Your London Boy. (Okay, sure he’s not actually from London, but a little Taylor Swift reference never killed anyone)

💜💜💜

You were sitting on the plane with the rest of the cast while Lady (your new puppy) was asleep on your chest as you held her up. She really was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How are my girls doing?” Tom asked, sitting down next to you.

“Great.” You smiled, tilting your head up for a kiss. Tom chuckled but pecked your lips. “I think Lady while be happy to see you when she wakes up.”

“I think she will to.” Tom smiled, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“I’m glad we got her,” you smiled, resting your head on Tom’s chest.

“Me too my love. Me too.” Tom smiled, kissing your head.

“How cold is it there? Do you think she’ll be able to handle it? I bought her a cute little sweater but I still don’t know.”

“Love, I’m sure you’ll be fine. We can keep her warm.”

“Okay,” you breathed. You felt a shift in your arms and paws pressed to your chest. You looked down and saw your little Lady looking at you with big, tired eyes. “Hi, my darling!” You smiled, brining her up to kiss her head. “Look who’s back!”

“Hi, my darling,” Tom smiled, looking down at her.

Lady quickly tried to jump out of your arms and to Tom. You both smiled as you watched her trying to climb her way off your chest.

“Come here darling,” Tom chuckled, carefully taking her from you and holding her to his chest as she attacked his face in licks.

“Someone missed her daddy.” You chuckled, pulling on Tom’s purple flower jumper (as he called it)

💜💜💜

You were holding Lady to your chest as everyone got off the plane and said their goodbyes.

You shirked as a gust of wind hit you. “Tommy it’s freezing!” You let out as you let Lady shaking in your arms. “We should get a cab, our poor baby is freezing.”

“Okay, my love. I’ll get us a cab, just keep our Little Lady warm.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly tucked Lady in between your shirt and Tom’s jumper. “Is that better honey?” You asked, kissing her head. “Daddy’s gonna get us a cab.”

💜💜💜

You were walking around London with Lady in Tom’s arms to keep her warm and Tom’s pink trench coat on you to keep you warm. It was big on him and extremely oversized on you. (So I’m 4’11 and done growing:( so in my mind readers a lot smaller. Sorry guys) But truth be told neither you nor Lady cared because you were both warm and with Tom. He had a big smile on his face as he showed you around London.

💜💜💜

ETNews posted_

Hot new couple The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes actor Tom Blyth and singer, song writer, actress, and author Y/N Y/N/N were spotted sightseeing in London with there new addition. Y/N looks rather warm in her oversized male coat.

💜💜💜

Your car came to a stop and Tom opened the door. You heard the people shouting and the cameras flashing. Tom got out and reached for your hand. You thankfully took it and looked at Lady wrapped in your arm. She looked terrified as she saw everything. You felt bad, but you also didn’t want to leave her alone. She was so young and your little girl, you couldn’t let her stay alone in the hotel.

“It’s okay, my love.” You whispered, kissing her head as you and Tom made your way to the carpet. “We’re gonna support daddy.”

“Oh, darling, don’t worry.” Tom cooed, taking her from you, smoothing down her little dress. “It’s okay, they’re not going to hurt you. They’re going to take pictures of us, and ask me and Mummy some questions. We’ll be with you the whole time my darling.”

“Do you think we should have left her?” You asked, looking up at Tom.

“I think she needs to be with us. She’s still a baby.” Tom let out, keeping one arm wrapped around Lady, holding her tightly to his chest, the other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

“Tom! Y/N!” Reporters yelled, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N what’s it like coming on the tour even though you’re not in the cast?”

“Oh,” you let out, taken aback at the rather harsh comment. “Well, I mean, everyone is super loving and supportive. And Rachel is my best friend so I was already coming to see them, and then after Tom and I started dating I was always on set, so it doesn’t feel any different honestly.”

“I see. So the two of you must have been dating for a while now.”

“Yeah. Over a year and a half actually.”

“So when will you two be expecting?”

“I-I’m sorry?” You stammered, really taken aback. But thankfully you had your night in shining armor right there for you.

“Kids have not been talked about yet,” Tom cut in, trying his best to keep his cool. “If and when Y/N and I want to have kids we will talk about it in our own time. That discussion is only between me and her, not for anyone else.” He looked down at you and kissed your head. “Come on my love, let’s keep going.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, once you were away from that reporter.

“Of course my love. I’m so sorry. He had no right to talk to you like that.”

“Tommy,” you sighed. “Unfortunately that’s just how things are for women in this industry. We mainly only get to talk about things like our hair and clothes and if we’re going to have kids one day.”

“Well, I don’t think it should be like that at all. You should have every right to talk about your work just as much as everyone.”

“I know. Thank you, Tommy, but unfortunately not everyone sees it that way.” You explained as a shiver ran down your body.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, placing his free hand on your bare shoulder. “You geese, you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” You lied. “How’s Lady? Is she warm enough?”

“Lady’s fine. But I’m worried about you my love. Why didn’t you bring a coat?”

“I don’t know.” You honestly answered. “I guess I didn’t think I’d need one.”

“Lady,” Tom said to Lady who was wrapped up in his arm. “I’m going to give you to Mummy, okay?”

Tom handed her to you and you held her as Tom started taking off his coat.

“But what about you?” You asked.

“I’m fine love. I grew up in this kind of weather.” He explained, wrapping his coat around your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

💜💜💜

You held Lady to your chest as you wrapped her up in Tom’s coat with you, as you watched him do interviews with a proud smile on your face.

“You ready my loves?” Tom asked, walking back up to you and Lady.

“Only if you are.” You smiled.

Tom kissed you and smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist. “I’m ready. Everyone else is inside.”

“Do you think the movie will be to violent for her?” You asked, looking down at the little puppy nuzzled up between Tom’s coat and your dress, looking up at you and Tom with so much love in her little eyes.

“I think she’ll be fine.” He smiled.