#please tommy pleas

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[honeyedmiller]

A Burning Desire part six

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: angst, hospitals, fluff, feelings!!! lots and lots of feelings!!!, smut (f!oral receiving, mentions of m!oral and handjobs, fingering, unprotected piv, consented filming), anxiety and overthinking, no use of y/n.

word count: 10.1k

synopsis: Joel’s accident has you confessing your feelings, and while you take care of him, you worry you’re becoming too attached too quick.

a/n: sorry the mood board sucks i literally couldn’t find anything that fit the vibes. hope u enjoy tho. xoxo

You don’t even know how you and Maria got to the hospital so fast. 

Everything was a complete blur; your mind was in a haze and your heart was beating so fast you thought it would nearly jump out of your chest. 

Please be okay. Please be okay. He has to be okay. 

Your vision became blurry as tears welled your eyes, and in your mind all you can think about Joel and hoping to god you guys didn’t run any red lights, speeding against time and pouring rain as you drove here.

He has to be okay. 

You felt like you were going to throw up. You didn’t know how bad it was, and you weren’t trying to be dramatic, but how could you not be worried? 

The man you love is hurt and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your mind immediately went to Sarah, wondering if she was already here—then it shifted back to all of the scenarios running in your mind a million miles a minute. 

A sob escapes your throat as Maria parks the car, giving you a tight hug before getting out of the car with you. 

“It’ll all be okay. It’s Joel we're talking about here, hm? He’s a resilient man,” she tries her best to console you, but all you can do is meekly nod before you walk into St. David’s. 

You’re shaking like a leaf as you approach the front desk. Maria clears her throat and the receptionist looks between you two, furrowing her brows. 

“You’re not hurt, are you honey?” She asks you, and you shake your head. Not physically, anyway. 

“No,” Maria tells her, “We’re here to see someone who got checked in probably not too long ago,” she says, and the receptionist nods in understanding. She twists her bright pink lips to the side, typing something into her computer. 

“Who’s the patient you’re visiting today?” She pushes her glasses up her nose, looking at Maria intently. 

“First name Joel, last name Miller.” 

The receptionist types something into her computer once again, and she nods. 

“Looks like he’s popular today. He has a lot of visitors,” she says, and you know it’s to lighten the mood, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh. You give her a small smile before she prints out two visitor stickers and hands them to you both. 

“Here you are ladies. Fourth floor, and on the left is the waiting room.” 

“Thank you ma’am,” Maria says, pulling your arm gently as you both put the stickers on and head to the elevators. 

A few stray tears roll down your cheeks on the quiet ride up to the fourth floor. Maria won’t let go of you; a silent plea to say I’m here for you without saying a single word. 

The elevator doors open and you turn to the left, seeing nearly everyone in the waiting room sporting an Austin Fire Department uniform. Your eyes search the room for Tommy and Sarah, and when you spot them, you make a beeline for them both. 

You give Sarah a tight hug, rubbing her back in consolement. You’re the adult here, so you have to be strong and put on a brave face for her until you find out Joel’s prognosis. 

Tommy hugs you next, and you can hear the stuttering in his breath as he tries to take a beat to calm down. He wraps Maria in his arms once he lets go of you, and you go back to hugging Sarah, to which she accepts in a heartbeat. 

She’s hugging you tight and won’t let go, and you look around the room and give a weak smile to all of Joel and Tommy’s coworkers as they wave at you with sad smiles. 

“What happened, Tommy?” You whisper, trying to brace yourself for the worst. 

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“We were on a call and Joel needed to get to the third floor of a building, so he was climbing the ladder of the truck. I guess he slipped or lost his footing because he fell off the damn ladder, and his harness didn’t hold his body weight up right and it fucking snapped. He fell three stories to the ground,” Tommy said, tears coming out of his eyes. 

You could barely even process his words. Your blood was pulsing in your ears and your body went still. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to cry and panic, but you were in a room full of his colleagues and his daughter’s arms were wrapped around you tightly. 

You look at him with glossy eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “Have the doctors said anything yet?” 

“They’re doing scans and tests on him right now,” Tommy says. 

“Was he at least wearing his helmet?” You can’t help but gnaw on your lip, body starting to tremble again in disbelief and fear. 

“He was, but he took a really hard fall. He kept coming in and out of consciousness on the way here,” he says, and you shut your eyes to steady yourself. Maria gave you a look of sympathy before coaxing the four of you to sit down. 

It became a waiting game at that point. Everyone was talking quietly amongst themselves, and Sarah leaned in to you and rested her head on your shoulder. 

“How are you holding up?” You ask her, voice soft and concerned. 

“He’s been hurt before, but not like this. I’m really scared,” she confesses, and you sigh and wrap your arm around her shoulder. 

“Me too, sweetheart, but your dad is a strong man. He’ll get through whatever the outcome is,” you try to reassure her, but even you heard the worry in your own voice. 

After what seemed like hours, a doctor comes out, looking down at her clipboard. 

“For Joel Miller?” She says, and everyone looks up. She blinks in surprise that nearly the whole waiting room’s eyes are on her. 

“Who’s his next of kin?” She asks, and Tommy stands up. He looks down at you and Sarah, nodding his head toward the doctor. He grabs Maria’s hand and you all walk up to her, waiting for her to tell you what’s going on with him. 

“How is he?” Tommy asks, worry written all over his face. His brows were furrowed, eyes glossy, and his body language was stiff—he was on edge. 

“We need to keep him here for a few days to keep a watchful eye on him and observe, just to make sure he’ll be okay. He hit his head really hard. He’s concussed and he has a couple of broken ribs with some bad bruising in various locations, but I’d consider him a seriously lucky fella. This could’ve ended a lot worse for him, but his heavy gear and helmet took a big amount of shock absorption from the fall,” she explains, and it feels like you can breathe a little better. 

Of course, his injuries are still nothing of the sort that you wanted to hear, but knowing they aren’t worse than what they are fills you with a tiny bit of relief. 

“When can we see him?” Sarah asks, and the doctor gives her a soft smile. 

“Now, actually. He’s asleep and heavily medicated, so he probably won’t be up for awhile. Four visitors are allowed at a time,” the doctor says, and you all nod. 

“You girls go ‘head. ‘M gonna inform the guys on what she just told us,” Tommy says, and you three nod before you follow the doctor past the doors labeled restricted. She takes you down a long hallway and into a room on the right hand side. 

Your eyes land on Joel, wearing a hospital gown with an IV in his arm. He looks peaceful while he sleeps, breathing steadily on his own. You notice the bruising starting to form on his arms and you can’t help but get teary-eyed again at the sight of him like this. 

You obviously know his job comes with many, many dangers—you just never in a million years thought he’d get hurt like this. You three pull up chairs to his bedside, making sure to stay out of the hospital staff’s way in case they need to get in around Joel or his bed. 

“This man really is resilient,” Maria says, smiling at Sarah. She returns a weak one back with a small nod. 

“He is. I know he’s a hero and he’s great at what he does, but sometimes I wish he and Uncle Tommy had a profession less… dangerous,” she confesses. 

You can’t even begin to imagine the anxiety she’s faced practically her whole life, knowing her dad is doing a job that’s strenuous and physically demanding, not to mention the danger he has to face every time he’s out in the field. 

“Have you ever talked to him about it?” You ask softly, genuinely curious and not-too-shocked about her confession. It seems like this thing would be normal for kids to think about when it comes to their loved ones performing a dangerous job such as this one. 

She shakes her head. “No,” she says with a sigh, “He loves this job and it makes him happy. The last thing I want for him is to leave what makes him happy because of me.” 

Sarah has to be the most level-headed, mature fourteen-year-old, you think. You’ve never met anyone as wise as her at her age—hell, nobody was this wise when you were around her age—and yet, her bravery and wits was tell-all about how she was raised. Joel really did a great job. 

“I get your point,” you say eventually, meticulously calculating your next choice of words. “Maybe you should have that conversation with him, though—in your own time. His job makes him happy and it’s important, of course, but you make him happier and you will always come before his job.”

She offers you a small smile as she leans her head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around her shoulders once more, giving her a loving squeeze of reassurance. 

“You know, you’re an important part of his life now, too,” she starts. “He talks about you a lot. Admires you a ton. He’s crazy about you,” she giggles, green eyes looking up at you. 

You can’t help but softly laugh. 

“I’m crazy about him, too,” you confess, and Sarah’s smile widens. 

“I’m really glad my dad finally found someone that makes him genuinely happy. You’re the perfect fit for our small lil family, so uh, thanks for being here. For him. For me. For all of us.”  

Her words make your chest tighten and bloom with warmth. You can’t help it this time—tears spring to your eyes and you kiss her hair, smiling at her with pure endearment. 

“There’s no place I’d rather be. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your lives.” 

“Well damn, it’s about to be a sob fest in here,” Maria says, eyes welling with tears too. 

All three of you laugh, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape. The door opens a few seconds later, and Tommy walks in. He looks exhausted, and he smiles sadly when his eyes land on his brother who was still in a deep sleep. 

He sits in the empty chair next to Maria, watching as Joel’s chest rises and falls at a steady pace. 

“Thank god he’s responsible and wore his gear correctly,” Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “Doctor said he might be a little loopy when he wakes up from the medication.” 

“He’s always been the responsible one, Uncle Tommy,” Sarah chastised him, causing everyone to laugh. 

“Yeah yeah. I owe your old man big time, kid. Now I got this lovely lady here to keep me in check,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans in to kiss Maria’s temple.  

“Damn right, Miller. Don’t you forget it,” she pats his knee twice, an unmistakable happy grin adorning her lips. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, and she nudges his side before everyone’s attention shifts to Joel who groans softly. He doesn’t wake up, but his brows furrow for a few seconds before the tension leaves his face. 

“Well, ‘m goin’ down to the cafeteria before it closes for the night. Anyone care to join me?” Tommy asks, gaze flitting from Maria to Sarah to you. 

“Actually yeah, I haven’t eaten dinner tonight,” Sarah says, twisting her lips to the side. “I’ll go with you.” 

“I’ll join you two,” Maria says as they all get up from their chairs, and you furrow your brows at her before she gives you a soft smile. “Just so you can get a little alone time with him,” she whispers, and you mouth thank you. 

The door snaps shut behind them as they leave the room, and your focus hones in on Joel. You grab his hand and lace your fingers with his. You bring his hand up to brush your lips on his knuckles, leaving soft kisses there. His hand is warm. He is warm. He’s always warm; the most comfortable and loving presence you’ve ever been around. 

You admire how strong this man is. How loving, how loyal, how he’s the type to give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it most. He’s selfless in every way possible. He’s the man of your dreams, and you’re so lucky to have found him when you did. 

For once in your life, being confident and not pushing someone you care about away in self-sabotage has worked out endlessly in your favor. 

“I love you, Joel,” the words slip past your lips easily, giving his knuckles another sweet kiss, “I love you so, so much. I’m so beyond lucky to be with you. I ain’t going anywhere, cowboy, so I hope you don’t get tired of me.” 

Joel’s hand tightens around yours and you gasp, eyes darting to his face. He purses his lips before his hand goes limp again and you sigh, leaning over to kiss his forehead before you let go of his hand. 

You decide to call your family and let them know what happened, just to keep them in the loop. You start with your mom and dad, standing in the corner of the hospital room as you look out at the plethora of lights of Austin that illuminate the night. 

“Hey honey! We were just thinkin’ of you,” your mom chirps, and you laugh softly before you sigh and answer her in a hushed tone. 

“Hey mama, I’ve got some bad news,” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“Oh no. What is it babygirl?” Her voice is laced with worry and overprotectiveness. 

“Joel got injured pretty badly at work. He’s in the hospital right now, but he’s okay.” 

Her gasp was unmistakable on the other line. “What? How did he get injured?” 

“He slipped off of the truck ladder due to the rain, and his harness snapped,” you say, looking back at Joel.

“My god, how badly is he injured?” She’s frantic, and you hear some shuffling in the background. 

“He’s got a pretty bad concussion, a couple of broken ribs and some bruising. Doctors said he’s very lucky considering the circumstances.” 

“Oh, sweetheart. Is there anything we can do?” 

“Do you mind texting the family group chat? I feel bad, I don’t want to bug Emi or Josh on their honeymoon but I wanna keep them in the loop.” 

“Of course I can. And you know Emi, she’d want to know regardless,” your mom says, and you nod with a sigh. 

“Thank you mom. I’ll keep you guys updated, okay?”

”Alright baby girl. Let us know. Love you lots,” she says, and you smile. 

“Love you too, mama. Bye,” you hang up your phone and shove it in your back pocket, facing Joel again. He inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut, and you rush to his side and grab his hand. 

“Joel?” You try to level out the anxiousness in your voice, biting your lip and furrowing your brows as he squeezes your hand. 

He groans softly, eyes fighting to open. He eventually blinks them open the tiniest bit, furrowing his brow as he takes in his surroundings. 

“What the hell happened?” He asks, voice cracking as he shuts his eyes again and swallows harshly. 

“You were in an accident at work, my love. You took a pretty big fall,” you say, bringing his knuckles up to your mouth so you can softly kiss them. 

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyes cracking open again. 

“Everyone’s waiting for you in the waiting room. Sarah, Maria, and Tommy went to get food in the cafeteria. ‘M gonna go get a nurse to check up on you, okay?” You try to keep your voice soft and light in hopes of keeping him at ease. 

He nods slightly, wincing when he tries to take a deep breath. You kiss his knuckles one more time before letting go of his hand, walking over to the nurses station not too far from his room. 

“Excuse me?” You say, getting the attention of a nurse. He looks up at you with a smile, and you easily return one. 

“The patient in room 411 just woke up.” 

The nurse—whose name tag says Jeremy— nods at you and walks with you back to Joel’s room, and Joel squints his eyes open again. Jeremy grabs the clipboard off of the end of Joel’s bed, beaming down at him with a smile. You text Tommy that Joel’s awake and they should head back to the room soon in the meantime. 

“Hey Mr. Miller, how are you feelin’?” Jeremy checks a couple of his vitals on the monitors, jotting something down on his paperwork. 

“Like I got hit by a bus,” Joel says, wincing again as he tries to sit up more. 

“It might feel like that for a couple of weeks, unfortunately. You had a pretty bad accident at work. You have a concussion and a couple of broken ribs,” Jeremy explains to Joel, and Joel’s face deflates. 

“Shit,” he says, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. 

“We’re goin’ to keep you a couple ‘a days just to make sure your concussion isn’t too serious,” Jeremy says to Joel, clipping the clipboard back on the end of the bed. 

The look on Joel’s face tells you he wants to argue, but it’s apparent the exhaustion he’s feeling has drained the fight in him. You can hear it in your head: ‘Couple ‘a days? I’ll be good t’go home by tomorrow.’

Joel just nods and murmurs a thank you to Jeremy as he leaves the room. His eyes find yours, and you can easily clock his frustration. 

“I know you don’t wanna stay here baby, but it’s for your health,” you reason, sitting down next to him again. He reaches out for your hand and grabs it, bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. 

“Y’know, I heard you talkin’ to your mom,” he says, eyes softening as you scoot closer to his bed. Your knees were touching the mattress now, and you were so close to him that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. 

“Oh, yeah,” you start, huffing a laugh. “She’s worried about you, but I told her you were fine. My family will probably want to come visit you sometime after they release you.” 

He smiles at that. “I’d love that. And, if I’m bein’ honest here…” 

He looks at you with a certainty you’ve never seen before. Then it clicks—how much did he hear before? Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you wait for his next words, the anticipation nearly sending you spiraling. 

“I heard what you said before your mom called you too, and sweetheart, I love you too. Kinda a weird place to say it for the first time to your face,” he chuckles, inhaling sharply at the pain. He still has a grin on his face that you’ll never get tired of seeing, and you can’t help but smile brightly at him. 

“Joel, I—wait, did you say to my face?” You ask, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah uh, I kinda said it right after our first night together at the hotel. The night of your sister’s weddin’. I think you’d already fallen asleep, though.”  

“No fucking way,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. He looks confused and frowns before you lean forward and press your lips gently to his, feeling the absolute emotion and passion behind such a simple, much needed kiss. 

“I wanted to tell you then, too—that amazing morning we spent together before we went down to breakfast with my family. I’d been thinking about it all morning, and this whole week, actually. I wanted to tell you when I got to see you next.” 

“‘M glad you feel the same way, darlin’. ‘M absolutely crazy about you,” he says, and you can’t help but gush at his confession. 

“I love you, Joel,” you say with finality, and he grins widely. 

“I love you too, baby,” he squeezes your hand and tugs you toward him for one final, searing kiss before the room door opens. You and him separate and turn to see Sarah, Tommy and Maria all entering the room. 

“Dad!” Sarah exclaims, giving him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hey there pumpkin,” he says, wrapping his arms around her the best he can. 

“Had us all scared there for a minute, brother,” Tommy chimes in, nudging his bed with his boot. 

“I’ll be fine,” Joel grumbles, sighing. 

“Glad you’re okay, Joel,” Maria says, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Thank you. And thank y’all for bein’ here,” Joel says. 

“There’s no place else we’d be than right by your side, Joel,” you smile at him endearingly, and the other three nod their head in agreement. 

“I appreciate y’all,” Joel’s gaze shifts to Tommy, “Can’t wait for Cap to put my ass through the wringer for this one.”

It elicits a laugh from Tommy, and he shakes his head before pointing his thumb at the door. 

“Nah. Poor bastard was scared as hell. Whole crew is waitin’ out there for ya,” 

“Shit, really?”

Tommy nods. “Mhm, but the doctor said only four people at a time can be in here to visit ya.” 

“We should give the others a chance to see him,” you suggest, looking at the three. 

“Took the words right out my mouth, lil lady,” Tommy chuckles, and you flash him a grin. 

You look at Joel and grab his hand, giving it one more gentle squeeze. He gives you a lopsided smile and you lean down one last time to kiss his forehead, and he murmurs those three words that make your heart unabashedly skip a beat. 

“I love you sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, cowboy,” you wink at him and he huffs a laugh, slowly letting go of your hand. He gives Sarah one last hug and a kiss on the cheek before you all head back out to the waiting room. The rest of the team looks at you four as you all walk out, and three of them get sent back to see him. 

Their captain stops to talk to Tommy for a bit before he heads back as well while you, Sarah and Maria take a seat again.

“So you finally said it, huh?” Maria nudges you, wiggling her brows. Your face heats and you look down at the frayed part of your jeans, trying to hide a shy smile. 

“Yeah,” you confess. 

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this so much,” she says, and you smile and lean into her side hug. 

“Thank you for encouraging me to stop being afraid of what I really feel. It’s about time I just stop cowering away and just let myself…feel,” you say. 

“That’s what friends are for. You ever need a pep talk, I’m your girl.” 

You both laugh at that, settling into a comfortable silence before Sarah taps you on the arm. 

You look her way and offer her a smile, which she mirrors right back to you. 

“Would you, uh, mind staying the weekend at our house?” She asks, and there’s a shyness to her voice that you instantly clock. You offer her a reassuring smile, silently vowing to her that you’d be there for her no matter what.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d love to.” 

-

You kept your word and stayed at the Miller’s house for the weekend. Joel was set to be discharged Sunday morning which thankfully came faster than expected. By the time you and Sarah got situated and wrangled him home, he was ushered to the couch to relax his body. 

You were sitting next to him while a Cowboys game was playing on the TV, silently watching the end of the first quarter. Sarah was finishing some homework upstairs and Tommy and Maria were on their way for a Sunday night family dinner. 

Tommy insisted on grilling some steaks tonight while you and Maria made some sides. 

“Can I lay my head on your lap, baby?” Joel’s voice is soft, and he looks at you with those big, brown pleading eyes that make you melt in an instant. 

You almost want to giggle at how cute he looks. 

“Sure honey,” you scoot your body over before he slowly lays himself down, situating his head on your lap. He closes his eyes for a second before inhaling as much as he can without hurting himself, opening his eyes and fixating his gaze on you. You stare at each other like that for a moment before you bend down and give him a chaste kiss.

You try to separate yourself from him, but he puts his hand on the back of your head gently to keep you there. You can’t help but smile against his lips and kiss him again, a little bit longer this time, before you move your head up slightly. 

“Don’t exert yourself too much now, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he scoffs against your lips. 

“If I wanna kiss my lady, ‘m gonna kiss her until my face turns blue,” he says, and you laugh at his fake stern tone. “‘Sides, it’s the only action I’m gonna be gettin’ for awhile anyway.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare down at him. “Joel Miller!” You can’t help but laugh, “You’re an insatiable man, y’know that?” You take the liberty of running your fingers through his soft locks, and he closes his eyes for a brief second in comfort. 

“What? ‘S true,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, cowboy. Maybe you’ll get a little something from me soon enough.” 

“You gonna give me some sugar, sugar?” He grins proudly at his lame joke and you huff a laugh. 

“Only if you behave. Gotta wait a little while longer, though. Doctor’s orders.” 

“You’re really gonna make me wait?” 

“Mhm. Learn some patience and keep it in your pants,” you giggle, and the irony of it all is that Joel is literally the most patient man you know. His laid back personality is every indication of patience, but it’s funny to see him squirm a little at the prospect of you taking care of him without having to have him exert himself in any way. 

“It’s hard when I got a beautiful, lovin’ lady such as yourself.” 

“Joel Miller, are you flirting with me?” You try to hold back your laugh, and he squints his eyes at you. 

“And what if I was? Is it workin’?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but fully laugh this time. Fuck, you really love this man. 

“Maybe. Means I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’re stuck with me,” you say, and he tugs you down for another sweet kiss. 

“That’s fine by me. Hey, uh, speakin’ of not goin’ anywhere—” he pauses, looking like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “Would you mind stayin’ here while I heal up? Sarah n’ I would both love it if you’d stay here with us for the time bein’ if ‘s not an imposition, of course.” 

You answer him almost immediately, trying not to sound too eager. “I don’t mind at all,” you say, “I know my boss wanted us to move remotely anyways, so it works out.” Your boss telling your whole department they were going to move strictly to remote work truly couldn’t have come at a better time, you think. 

“I can also take Sarah to school and soccer practice for the time being too,” you offer, and a swirl of excitement settles deep into your bones at the thought of the domesticity of it all. You try not to think about it, but there’s something about spending consecutive days with the person you love that drives your heart into a frenzy. 

“You’d do that?” His voice is soft, hopeful. You nod, brushing your fingers through his curls once more. 

“You’re too good to me, woman,” he groans, bringing you down for one last kiss. You can’t help but smile against his lips, whispering right back to him. 

“And you’re too good to me.” 

-

It didn’t take long for all of you to fall into a routine. Mondays are hectic but manageable as you usher Sarah out of the door just in time to drive her to school. Tuesdays are for school and soccer practice, making a quick and easy dinner to appease everyone. Wednesdays are for school and tutoring, because Sarah is wickedly smart, but geometry seemed to take a toll on her. Thursdays are the same as Tuesdays, and Fridays are the days you all decide if it’ll be takeout or pizza for dinner. 

Tommy and Maria will occasionally pop in and help with dinner once in a while, which is always a nice surprise. Your family visited too, checking in on Joel to make sure he’s okay. Your mom even made a pot of ‘get well soon soup’, as she likes to call it. 

It’s now week three at the Miller household for you and you feel like you practically live here at this point. Well, in a way, you sorta do. 

It’s just until Joel heals fully, though. Then it’s back to the regular routine—something you almost forgot about; what it was like before you brought some of your stuff over to Joel and Sarah’s. 

You don’t know how it’ll feel to go back to a bed with an empty side on it, void of Joel and his comforting scent and warmth. You don’t know how it’ll feel to be back to stark quietness, no morning rushes or scrambling of eggs for three or showing off your pancake flipping skills that elicits excited laughs and rounds of applause. 

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t want to go back to your apartment. You haven’t constantly been in a house so full of laughter and love since you left your parents to live on your own over a decade ago. 

It’s funny, you think. You were so okay with being alone, so okay with pushing people away to ‘protect your own peace’ as you’d called it, so okay in your own little bubble—when in reality, you were sabotaging every potential relationship that had come your way. 

After Christian, those feelings of doubt and isolation crept in and slowly sank its claws in you, and for a while, you were so content with just being by yourself—so much so that you’d already accepted the fact that you’d probably be alone forever. 

And then Joel came along. This man has single handedly turned your whole world around, and you can’t get enough of him. He’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more. You don’t know what possessed you to make the first move a couple of months back at Rosemary’s, but you’re so fucking glad you did. 

You probably wouldn’t be here in this warm house with the most loving man right now if you didn’t. 

It’s another Tuesday at the Miller household, and Joel squeezes your shoulders to break you from your wandering mind. 

You look up at him from your seat and give him a tired smile, looking back down at the steaming cup of coffee he placed in front of you. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty lady?” He asks, kissing your cheek before sitting down next to you. 

You know you were too chicken to tell him your real thoughts, so you made something up. 

“Your birthday’s this weekend,” you state matter-of-factly. Okay, truthfully, it’s been on your mind for days, so it isn’t  something totally made up. It seemed to work though as Joel groans and tips his head back. 

“Don’t remind me,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh c’mon, let me plan a little something for you,” you pout, as if you didn’t already have a plan in mind that his family, your family and his friends knew about. 

“My sweet girl, you don’t have to do that. Not exactly thrilled at celebratin’ turnin’ a year older.” 

“But I want to, Mr. Miller,” you tease, and he groans. “Besides, you deserve to be celebrated.” 

“You know what that does to me when you call me that,” he shifts in his seat and you have to stifle a laugh at how fast this man gets turned on by you. He doesn’t comment on the second half of your statement, which you decidedly let go of. 

The feeling of power and seduction sinks her gnarly little teeth into your very being, and you can’t help but feel proud that you’re the one who makes him feel this way. Maybe slight possession wiggles her way in between power and seduction, nestling herself comfortably between the two. 

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. For now,” you say, quirking a brow as you point a finger at him. He leans forward and nips his teeth gently at the tip of your finger, 

kissing it right after. He’s sporting a boyish grin when you look at him, and you roll your eyes with a smile before the chair scrapes against the floor as you get up, looking at your watch-clad wrist. 

“Time to clock in.” 

“Don’t be too long, darlin.’ I’ll miss that pretty face an awful lot.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible flirt?” You tease him, knowing damn well he isn’t. 

“What I lack in flirting I make up for in other areas,” he smirks, giving your ass a slap as you walk past him. You fake-glare at him and he tosses his head back as a deep laugh rumbles from his chest, and you admire him so. 

Fuck, you think. It’s going to be really hard going back to things as they were before. 

-

A few days later, and you‘re basking in the way the golden rays of the autumn sun hit your skin through the blinds in Joel’s room. You aren’t fully awake yet, but you can feel Joel’s strong chest pressed securely against your back. 

His grip on you is tight—protective, in a sense. It doesn’t waver when he begins to press soft, wet kisses against your shoulder, moving the strap of your nightie down as his kisses trail further up your neck. 

He brings his mouth up to your ear, nibbling on your lobe a tiny bit before moving his hands up your torso to palm at your breasts. 

You hum in response, your brain fuzzy and still trying to catch up to what was going on in reality. He tweaked your hardened buds through the satin you wore, and you instantly melted into the palms of his large, warm hands. 

“Mornin’ honey,” he whispers, dragging his lips down your jugular. You hum again, slowly blinking your eyes open. You squint as the sun directly hits your eyes for a second before you stretch, hands above your head. The movement caused the satin material to slide up your thighs, exposing your bare bottom half. 

Joel groans in response, and he flips you over onto your back before his sweet brown eyes meet yours—except his eyes were riddled with pure mischief. He wore a smirk to match, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck before carding your fingers through his soft curls. 

“Morning handsome,” you say, voice soft and full of sleep. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you beautiful,” the tenderness in his voice matches yours, but he takes one glance down your body before you feel his hardening length against your thigh. You stifle a laugh and bite your lip, excitement swirling in your bones. 

You’ve touched Joel in the past few weeks—handjobs in the shower, morning head every so often—but you haven’t gone beyond that while he’s been healing up. You didn’t mind, obviously, but you can tell it’s been bothering him. 

The thing about Joel, well, he��s a giver. And when he can’t provide what he wants to give, it drives him fucking nuts. You could easily see the frustration brewing within his features when he wanted to give you more, but he couldn’t exert himself. Doctor’s orders. 

His lips trail down the satin material and he pulls it down where your breasts lay, exposing them to himself. He hums in delight and envelopes a pert bud into his mouth, closing his eyes as he licks and sucks. 

You sigh in contentment, hips involuntarily bucking up. Guess you’re a lot more needy than you thought. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you? It’s your day, after all,” You’re breathless, arching your back off the mattress. 

He releases your nipple with a small pop before his brown eyes meet yours once again. “It’s been drivin’ me crazy not bein’ able to please you the way I want—the way I know you deserve to be pleased.” 

“But Joel, that wasn’t your fault. You were healing up from a terrible accident,” you reason, and he grunts. 

“Still doesn’t mean I didn’t miss doin’ this,” he trails off, moving his lips down your torso as he slides his hands up your body to push the satin up. 

The cold air of the bedroom hits your core and you gasp, eyes falling shut as you loll your head back. 

He runs his hands back down to your thighs, digging his fingers into your hot skin before prying your legs open a bit further. He tosses your thighs over his shoulders and gives you the most devilish grin you think you’ve ever seen from him as you force yourself to look at him again. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he leans forward, kissing your aching, puffy core a few times before finally sticking his tongue out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. 

Only then does he close his eyes in what seems to be pure ecstasy, groaning to himself as he gets lost in his own words and indulges in you. 

You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, knowing that Sarah was right down the hall and Tommy and Maria were in the guest bedroom. They did not need to hear this. 

Joel doesn’t relent and his thick muscle works you incredulously. He’s giving your clit kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth, not caring to be quiet with his ministrations. You’re gasping for air behind your hand as you feel that familiar warmth blooming in your belly already. 

You realize you hadn’t even touched yourself in weeks, being too busy with work and taking Sarah to school and her extracurricular activities while simultaneously making sure Joel was okay and healing properly. Your want and desire was shoved all the way down, filed away and forgotten about until this very morning. 

You can’t help it—your other hand goes flying to his curls as you begin to rock your hips against his mouth. God, he’s so fucking good at this. He hums against you with a chuckle and prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull and you have to bite down on your lip hard in order not to scream. Fuck, you wish you were back in that hotel room right now so you can be as loud as you want. 

He continues to lick up and down your slit at a torturous pace after, making sure to tease your clit with the tiniest little flick at the tip of his tongue. 

You’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and you whisper behind your hand don’t stop, don't stop, god, don’t stop before your thighs lock around his head and your body starts to twitch under his hold. 

You have to shove your face into a pillow as you moan loudly into it, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. 

And the thing is, he doesn’t fucking stop. In fact, he slides two fingers into you and curls them in a ‘come here’ motion, and your brain goes absolutely blank. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and you’re seeing stars, body shaking so hard you feel like you’re rocking the whole damn bed. Then there’s a strange sensation—you feel like it’s perhaps a stronger orgasm, but with the feeling of needing to pee. 

You toss the pillow off of your face to warn Joel to stop, but it’s too late. You’re fucking gushing around his mouth and fingers, clear liquid coating the bottom half of his face and the sheets beneath him. The squelching sound is so loud that you think this is what’ll get you both caught. 

You’re gasping for air as you toss your head back on the mattress, body now completely limp. Joel slowly slides his fingers out of you before licking one up himself, moving up the mattress to hover over you before he takes his other hand and opens your jaw before slipping his finger into your mouth. You obediently suck, and you can feel his cock twitch in his sweats at that. 

It’s a tangy-sweet taste, and you hum around his finger before peeling your eyes open as you try and even out your breathing. 

“Always taste like a dream, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into his mouth, reaching down to rub his cock through the fabric. 

He all but growls into your mouth, rocking his hips into your hand. You gently force him to lay down after you separate your lips from his, smiling down at him before kissing his nose, then shuffle his sweats down his thighs. 

To your delight, he isn’t wearing boxers. His delicious length is rock-hard, pre-come leaking from the slit. You thumb it and bring it up to your mouth for a little taste before you start to shuffle your body down the bed. 

Joel catches your elbow though and gives you a pleading look. “I need to feel you, baby. Please,” his voice is a desperate whisper. How could you possibly say no to that? 

You move back up again and straddle his hips, grabbing his cock before pumping the silky flesh a couple of times. You swipe his head between your folds and you both moan, all furrowed brows and bitten lips. 

You finally sink down onto him, and Joel’s hands fly to your hips. He keeps you steady there for a second, and you can literally feel him pulsing inside of you. You have to bite your knuckle to keep from groaning his name. 

“God, fuck—goddammit, you feel so fucking good,” he croaks, and you lean down to kiss him. He responds hungrily, hands roaming your body furiously before they settle on your ass. He squeezes your pillowy flesh, kneading it before slowly moving you up on his cock. You sink back down onto him after he nearly slips out of you, and you hiss at the intoxicating sensation. 

“Fucking love your cock, Joel,” you whine, “I love you.” 

“I–I, oh, fuck me, I love you too.” 

His resolve totally crumbles as he gets lost in the feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him, stretching beautifully and taking him so well. Like you were fucking made for him. And you are, you think. 

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to be a tease but you can barely even concentrate yourself. 

“Mhm. So fuckin’ lucky you’re all mine. ‘M the luckiest bastard alive,” he huffs, and you lean down to lick up his neck and suck a little on his pulse point. Not too hard, though, because god knows you two’d get teased to no end by both your families. It’s hard not to get too lost into it, though. You pull yourself back with the very little self restraint you have. 

“I think you got it twisted, cowboy. I’m the lucky one,” you moan into his ear, kissing his temple afterward. “Thank you for loving me the way you do.” 

He can’t help but groan at your words. You pick up the pace of your hips, planting your knees firmly on the mattress so you can start riding him for real. You set a relentless pace as you sit up straight, tossing your head back in pure ecstasy. 

Your head lolls forward again and you look down at Joel who’s looking at you with such desperation in his eyes. 

“Can I—fuck, I can’t believe I’m askin’ this,” he grabs your hips, slowing you down a beat. “Can I take a picture of you like this? On top ‘a me? Won’t get offended if you say no,” he’s cautious with his words, and you have to stifle a laugh. The amount of times you’ve thought about asking him to record you both fucking each other is actually ridiculous, even though this is only the third time.  

“I’ll do you one better. Why don’t you take a video,” you send him a wink, and his cock twitches once more. You raise the nightie over your head, tossing it beside you on the bed. He groans at the sight of your naked body above him. 

You bite your lip and look down at him, and he doesn’t waste another second before fumbling his phone off of the night stand, ignoring the plethora of texts he’s got, probably all wishing him a happy birthday. 

His hands are a bit shaky, but he finally gets situated and hits record. You continue to ride him, putting on a little show for the camera as you move your hips in a seductive way. You smile down at Joel and give him a wink, picking up your pace. 

You’re sure the camera frame is all skin slapping against skin and your breasts bouncing wildly as you ride him, and he can’t help the moans and whimpers that slip past his lips. He reaches up and gropes your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefinger once more. 

You feel more of your slick arousal pool out of you at the sensation, and you know you’ve got him drenched with you. 

“Fuck, Joel, you always feel so damn good,” you whine. 

“Yeah? Who’s pretty pussy is this?” He asks, reaching down to rub your swollen clit. You cry out, biting the back of your hand to try your best to stay as quiet as possible, which you’re sure you’re doing terribly at. 

“Yours, baby. All yours,” you confess, switching to a grinding motion. You both moan in unison as you circle your hips while giving yourself that extra friction. You feel the familiar bloom in the pit of your core, and you don’t know how much longer you’re going to last. 

He needs to come first. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop. I’m close,” Joel grits, and you do exactly as he says. “Where do you want me?” His voice sounds so small, so strained. 

Your head snaps up and you look him in the eyes as you shoot him a wicked grin. 

“In me.” 

And that’s that. He comes instantly, body stilling as he pumps you full. You moan as you grind against him a few more times before you’re coming, too. 

You’re both breathless and dazed as he stops recording, tossing his phone back onto the nightstand. You slip off of him and he instantly pulls you into him, covering you both with the comforter. He lifts his hips and tucks himself back into his sweats, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathes you in. 

“Best way to start my birthday,” he says, and you grin and nudge him gently. 

“What the birthday boy wants, he gets,” you say, tipping his chin up for a chaste kiss. 

“What he wants is to stay in bed with you all day.” 

“I wish I could give you that too, handsome, but I’ve got a party to throw and you’re the guest of honor.” 

He quirks a brow. “Guest of honor in my own home?” 

You nod with a grin. “Mhm. So c’mon,” you tap his arm, “Up n’ at ‘em.” 

“Five more minutes,” he groans, burying his face into your chest. He leaves soft kisses there, and you bring your hands up to cradle the back of his head and scratch his scalp. 

“Fine. Five more minutes.” 

-

That five minutes turned into forty five, with Tommy knocking on Joel’s door to shout “Happy birthday you old fucker! Get up!” 

And now you’re all prepping for the party, telling Joel to sit and do nothing. He can’t have that, though, so he helps Tommy prep the grill for the burgers and chicken vegetable kabobs. 

Sarah decorates the backyard while you and Maria dance around each other in the kitchen to prep some side dishes. Joel also requested that you make your chocolate chip cookies he loves so much, so you were eyeing them in the oven while you chopped up some iceberg lettuce for salad. 

The doorbell rings, and you halt your chopping. You glance at the door before setting the knife down and wiping your hands before making your way over to open it up. 

Your whole family stands there, and you immediately smile and hug them one-by-one before ushering them into the house. 

“Maria, this is my mom Alexandria, my dad Michael, sister Emily, my brother-in-law Josh, and my brothers Andrew and Cole,” you point to everyone as you go down the line. “Everyone, this is my good friend Maria,” Maria beams a bright smile at them. 

“Nice to meet y’all, I’ve heard lots of wonderful things,” she says, and Cole snorts. 

“Shadow was just probably tryin’ to be nice,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. 

“Dude, shut up,” you say, and Maria laughs. 

“Oh, he’s funny. Tommy’ll love him,” she says. 

“They already have a ‘bromance’ going with Joel,” you shudder at the words, “I’m sure they’ll get Tommy, too.” 

“Not our fault we’re all funny and good looking,” Andy ran a hand on the side of his head in a slick-back motion. 

“God, you two are idiots,” Emily chimes in, and your mom and dad laugh at the childish banter. 

“Okay, okay, enough all of you,” your mom steps in, putting the tin foil pan on the counter. 

“Go say hi to your boyfriend. He’s in the backyard,” you tease Andy and Cole, and Andy holds up a twenty-four pack of Modelo. 

“Glady,” he’s got that smug smile on his face, and you huff a laugh. “C’mon Josh,” Andy nods his head out to the backyard where Joel and Tommy stand. 

“Don’t corrupt my husband please!” Emily calls out as they step through the sliding glass door, giving Joel a wave as him and Tommy turn their heads. 

“No promises!” Cole calls back, and they all follow them out to the backyard like a pack of wolves. Your attention is torn away as the oven beeps. You pull the cookies out, resting the tray on the counter before looking back outside. 

You sigh and give Maria a nudge. “Let’s go rally the troops,” and she laughs as she follows you out to the backyard. 

“I feel like I need to do a line-up military style to introduce all of you,” you say, and Joel and Tommy chuckle. Sarah sidles up beside you, giving you a grin. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you say, looking around the backyard. “Everything looks amazing.” 

She takes a half-bow. “I try, I try,” she says, and everyone laughs. 

It takes a few minutes for you to introduce everybody to Sarah and Tommy, but once everyone is familiar with one another, they all get to mingling. Joel, Tommy, your dad and brothers crack a bottle open and gather around the grill while the women head inside, finishing up the last of the food. Sarah went up to her room to freshen up, which just left you, Maria, Emily, and your mom. 

“So, Emi, how was Costa Rica? It looked beautiful,” you ask, plating the cookies before putting Saran Wrap over them. 

“Oh my god, it was wonderful. The pictures I sent y’all didn’t even do it justice,” she swoons, putting her chin in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the countertop. 

“Am I getting grandbabies anytime soon?” Your mom asks, and you and Emily share a look.

“Mom, really?” You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Hey! I ain’t getting any younger here, and it’ll probably be a couple of years before you and Joel start having any—”

You cut her off. “Mom, please. Don’t even go there.” 

She huffs and puts her hands on her hips. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, mom, Josh and I didn’t use any contraceptives on this trip,” Emily says, and your mom’s eyes go wide. 

“I’m gonna get a grand baby!” She dances in place, making the three of you laugh. 

Emily shrugs with a smile. “Guess we’ll find out.”

A few hours later, the party was in full swing as everyone you’d invited was gathered in the backyard, laughing and talking amongst themselves. You made it a point to invite people at the firehouse he was close with, thanks to the help from Tommy. 

“There’s my pretty lady,” Joel says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before bringing you into his side. He kisses your temple gently before smiling at you. “Thank you for,” he gestures with his hand that was holding a Modelo, pointing the neck of the bottle into the crowd. “All of this. It means a lot that you’d do this for me.” 

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course, Joel. You deserve to be celebrated.” 

He leans down to give you a kiss. You wrap your arm around his waist, pulling him tighter into you. You pull away before prying eyes can catch you getting carried away because you know you get so caught up in the moment with him. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You ask, putting a hand on his chest. 

He nods and flashes you a soft grin. “I am, but y’know what I wish I was doin’ right now?” His voice lowers a couple of octaves, and that tone shoots straight to your core. 

“I have an idea,” you say, trying to ignore the intense throb between your legs. 

“Wishin’ I was buried between those pretty thighs of yours.” 

He squeezes your hip and your eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, having half a mind to drag him upstairs into his bedroom so he can pound you into his mattress. 

Your delicious fantasy dissipates as soon as you hear Tommy and Andy howling of laughter. 

“Looks like our brothers are hitting it off,” you observantly say. 

Joel nods. “Yeah, actually. The guys wanted to go out for beers next weekend. Told you it was the start of a beautiful bromance.” 

You shoot Joel a look. “The guys? As in you, your brother and my brothers?”

He nods, and you can’t help but huff a laugh. “Well, have fun, and be careful. Don’t let them talk you into anything stupid. Don’t need another broken rib,” you roll your eyes teasingly, bumping your hip to him.

You grab his beer bottle from his hand, taking a swig of it before handing it back to him. He has that boyish grin on his face again and it’s so contagious. 

“Definitely don’t want another one ‘a those. Shit still hurts when I turn a certain way.” 

“I didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?” Your voice is lower now, referring to the lovely morning you two spent in his bed together. 

“Not at all. Would’a said somethin’ if you did. Promise,” he says, kissing your temple. 

“Well it won’t be too long before you’re all healed up.” And you have to go back to your apartment, drowning in the once-loved loneliness. 

You dread it now, and you don’t know how to bring it up to him. 

“Hey sis. Great party you threw,” Andy comes up to you and Joel, giving you a rare grin of appreciation. 

“How drunk are you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Can’t I compliment you without you thinking I’m under the influence?” He frowns at you, nudging your side. 

“I guess so. Thanks, Andy,” you say, and he waves you off. 

“Yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes right back at him. “Wasn’t gonna.” 

“Anyway, lemme steal my boyfriend back since you so rudely kept him to yourself for a long time,” Andy says, grinning at Joel. 

Joel can’t help but laugh and shake his head, and if it could, his forehead would have ‘dear god help me’ scrawled across it. 

The party went on for a couple more hours after that, the crowd slowly fizzling out. Everyone helped clean the backyard until it was spotless, and by the time everyone left except for you, Joel, and Sarah, it was nearly midnight. 

You’d just finished brushing your teeth and washing your face before you climbed into Joel’s comfy bed, snuggling into his side as he pulled you closer to him. You start to trace small patterns on his warm chest with your fingertips, soaking in every moment you have while being beside him. 

You don’t know how you’re gonna give this up. It honestly scares you how attached you’ve gotten to Joel. 

And, well, for god sakes, you love the man—and he loves you. Being beside him these past few weeks has truthfully filled a void in your life that’s been empty for so long. Now that it’s fulfilled and you’re the one experiencing what love is really supposed to feel like for the first time in your life, you’re struggling with the prospect of being alone again at your own place. 

You know you can come to Joel’s house at any time and vice versa, but it’s just not the same as being able to wake up in his arms every morning. It’s not the same as being able to go to sleep and the last thing you see is his beautiful face, smiling at you tiredly as his brown eyes droop closed. It’s not the same as having hectic but amazing mornings as you brew coffee for two, getting Sarah out of the house in time to take her to school. 

God, you sound so clingy. Maybe you’re just overthinking this, like, a lot. Maybe Maria or Emily can give their input on this—

“Thank you for the party today, baby. Made my day so special and I can’t thank you enough for doin’ this for me.” 

Joel’s deep, velvety voice pulls you from your thoughts. You smile at him tiredly, reaching a hand out to run through his curls before settling it on his cheek, swiping your thumb back and forth. 

“I’d do anything for you, Joel Miller,” you lean in and kiss the tip of his nose. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” His voice is a mere whisper as he moves his face closer to yours. 

“You’re unapologetically yourself and you let me love you the way you deserve to be loved,” you answer as if it’s the most simple and obvious thing in the world.

“My dream woman,” he grins, giving you a kiss. “I love you.” 

You’ll never get tired of hearing him say that. 

“I love you too.” 

And while he’s drifting off to sleep, you’re left with your anxious thoughts swirling your mind—ones that make you want to cower away and push push push, but you won’t allow it. 

Not this time. 

taglist: @raspberrybesitos ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @clawdee

@pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @typewriter83

@lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg

@pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin ; @kikaaauu ; @buckyispunk

@untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @survivingandenduring

@party-hearses ; @pedrospatch ; @harriedandharassed ; @brittmb115 ; @sunnytuliptime

@frodofreakingbaggins ; @aceaubrianna ; @tangled-tumbler-blog-blog

let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off of the tag list!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part One/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of negotiations between lawyers, the day goes wasted when Tommy takes it upon himself to interfere in court proceedings. With your muddled intentions made clear, and your husband's declarations of love forcefully made known, a blazing row erupts between you both in the bustling streets of Birmingham. Will you ever be free from your husband's restraints? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: For the purpose of depicting the manipulative behaviour of Tommy in the first part of this chapter, I've taken it upon myself to have radios become a common feature in cars before they were. We'll pick back up from the first scene again in the last chapter. The song playing on the car radio is called "Release Me" by Engelbert Humperdinck.

[Masterlist] [Trailer] [Main Masterlist]

" Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you, anymore..." the sound of your husband's humming voice accompanied by the taunting song and a sharp turn of the cars rumbling wheels on the gritted ground, jolted you from the daze your tired body had drifted into.

"Tommy...Tommy!" you began to frantically cry into the darkness, faced once again with the horrors sleep had dulled for you. A slither of light beaming through a crack in the rear headlights, the salty air of sand and kelp your only comfort to stop your racing heart from plunging you into complete obscurity.

"Tommy please! I'm...I'm sorry! I was scared...you were scaring me!" Your stifled breath wept with desperation as you begged for mercy before panic took over, and you succumbed to the tight enclosure.

Losing track of the countless halting stops, the speeding turns as Tommy's foot pressed down onto the pedal with determination. You had given up on trying to route your husband's destination and fallen into a weary haze of slumber. But with Tommy's clear attempt to awaken you, and bless his lonely thoughts with the beauty of your strangled cries, he had also awoken the searing panic within you once again.

How many hours had it been...fuck, how many hours had it been?! How much air was left?!, your frightened mind scrambled to make sense of the amount of time that had passed through the music loudly confusing any tangible answer you could come to.

" I can't breathe...Oh my god, I...I can't breathe!" your chest heaved in a frenzy, relenting to the alarming situation you had distanced yourself from as your hands searched to ground your body before you let what was left of your sanity slip into the terror your husband was hellbent on inflicting on you.

" Tommy! I...I can't breathe!" your hand flew to your chest as adrenaline coursed through the blood pumping furiously throughout your body. Every muscle reacting in a torturous plea for you to flee the inescapable.

" Maybe you should stop screaming, sweetheart" Tommy's voice rose above the music as a wicked smirk etched on the corner of his curling lips. His arm resting casually on the open window with a lit cigarette perched between his fingers as one would on a leisurely Sunday drive in the country.

" You bastard!" you snapped forgetting yourself, throwing the warranted insult his way as a low chuckle obnoxiously echoed back to you in response.

" And to think I put a cushion in there for you" he teased, if only to spur on the enticing game of cat and mouse he had become the sole player of.

" Don't say I don't do anything nice for you, eh?" a slither of irritation seethed at the end of his tongue for the chaos he blamed you for. For the cascade of selfish decisions you had made he blamed on the day's events.

How could you have done this to him, after all...no. After everything he'd lovingly done for you to keep you away from those that wanted to ruin what you shared.

" I hate you...I fucking hate you! I never loved you Tommy, just like your fucking song! I don't love you! Are you listening?! " your screams continued as you thrashed your limbs against the walls. Desperately trying to garner a reaction out of him as your lungs heaved for the stolen air, panic had snatched from them.

And a reaction you got, but one you'd be thankful to not have witnessed when Tommy shifted in his seat, loosening the collar of his shirt from the restricting pang of anger bobbing in his throat. His jaw clenching into a grating sound of teeth grinding on top of one another as the blue of his eyes eclipsed with a foreboding shade of coal at the lies you had spoken to scorch him. Lies he knew were only said to fool yourself into believing, rather than succumbing to the truth that your doting husband was, and always would be, the only man you would ever love.

You were just...tired. A knock to the head would make anyone confused, Tommy told the distasteful burn that had settled on his chest as the calloused pads of his fingers turned the volume up to drown out any more unwarranted admissions that would have him act out on the sting you had pierced him with.

"I'm warning you, eh? You hear me? One more fucking word Y/N, I dare you!" Tommy's voice loudly ordered with a shuddering tone of control as his eyes narrowed in on the road in front of him. His leather gloves snapping with a crisp creak under his curling fingers as they tightly grasped around the steering wheel. Tethering on the idea of stopping the car to an abrupt halt and dealing with you by hand.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, your trembling bottom lip steadied itself from any further statements you'd be a fool to make as the toying melody lulled your weeping body back into hopelessness. Your eyes drifting to the narrow rays of the sun fading with each passing minute.

Hovering your fingers over the dusting of light, you began to quietly mouth the tormenting lyrics of the song Tommy had chosen to accompany your long drive into the unknown as you let your body sink into itself.

Feeling a strangled cry build in your throat, one last frustrated thrash of your elbow against the side of the car boot had a flash of light searing into the darkness, causing your head to turn from the glaring brightness of the outside world now beaming into your enclosure.

" Shit, shit..." your head turned in a panic to see the back headlight gone, your pent-up hopelessness now your saviour.

Whipping your head back to the sound of your husband's toying lips whistling in tune to the song, your heart pounded rapidly against your chest as you waited for him to acknowledge his taillight skimming across the road. But when no reaction came, you tempted fate and slipped your arm through the open gap, frantically waving your hand in hopes somebody would see.

Hearing the rumbling sound of a car approaching, you pushed your arm further through the shards of glass as you desperately tried to alert its drivers' attention.

" No, no, no..." you cried, pulling away to see the car disappear into the fading sun, hurtling all despair back to you in a strangled muffle of cries.

Readying yourself for the burning sting once again, you pushed your bloody hand back into the sharp teeth of your only escape, forcing it through until your shoulder met the door of your prison one last time.

And that's when you felt it. The lock that had kept you captive for countless hours in the dark.

In for a penny, in for a..., your teeth bit down onto your wobbling bottom lip, dried with a layer of blood from the dripping gash on your forehead.

Steadying your heavy breaths from backing out, you pushed your thumb down onto the chrome button, committing to your escape and the horrors you would face if your husband caught you.

With a subtle click, the door effortlessly popped open as you pulled yourself up with shaky hands, throwing the weight of your body out onto the road without care to any car approaching or injury you'd likely sustain as Tommy's foot slammed on the breaks to a screeching halt.

" Now just where do you think you're going..." Tommy's eyes narrowed, the rolled cylinder of tobacco resting between his plump lips puffing a cloud of smoke with each quiet breathy observation as he flicked the wing mirror with his finger to see the reflection of you scrambling to your feet.

" Help! Somebody!" You screamed in horror as you ran barefoot along the gritted ground. Only a thin slip covering your modesty, Tommy hadn't given you a chance to conceal with his unexpected appearance that morning.

"Shit" Tommy huffed throwing the door open, discarding the burnt cigarette from his mouth as he bolted after your sprinting feet.

" C'mon darling, don't make a scene!" you heard his gravelly voice call after you as you dared to look back to see him chasing towards you with a malicious smile of amusement toying on the corners of his lips.

With no sign of life but the two of you on the long winding road, you took your chances in the bushy hedgerow, heading down the dangerous coastal path with screams of terror as Tommy stayed hot on your heels behind you.

But your frantic escape and pleas for help would go unheard among the thrashing sound of waves, leaving only the echos of the melody coming from Tommy's abandoned car in the middle of the lone country road, and the ticking of its blinkers counting the moments down until he caught you.

"Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you anymore. To waste our lives would be a sin..."

One month earlier...

"Shit, I'm sorry. I don't..I don't have any change" your cheeks reddened with embarrassment as your fingers fumbled with the small, empty purse. Not a single shilling nestled within its velvety padding. Not a single penny to your name.

"My husband wi..." you stopped yourself, feeling a fool to have even referred to him as such, that you were going to rely on him to settle your fare, knowing full well he'd find enjoyment paying on your behalf with the proceedings set to take place in a moment's time.

" S'alright, Mrs Shelby. On the house" the taxi driver nodded to you in the rear mirror with a bushy bearded smile. For he was not foolish enough to follow in suit with your slipping tongue and make the wife of the leader of the Peaky Blinders pay a sum so trivial it could see him costing a finger his profession deemed vital.

" Thank you, Jeffery. But after today I'll no longer be, Mrs Shelby" you stated, opening the car door to a gust of autumn air nipping at your cheeks, your heels stepping onto the cobbled street, that paved your way to the grand building where a judge would decide on your future.

Strutting into the towering structure, you held your head high as your heels loudly echoed along the marble floors. But as you pushed through the heavy court doors, your mustered confidence took a sudden blow when the room turned to face you and the man that would reside over your divorce proceedings, scolded you like a child in front of a class of their peers.

" You're late, Mrs Shelby" he looked past the rims of his glasses as your pace slowed in a desperate attempt to muffle your poor choice of shoes and the unwarranted attention it garnered.

"I'm sorry your honor" you apologised, shamed in front of everyone as you hurried past the set of blue eyes following your every step. His piercing stare roaming over your body from head to toe, to every curve your fitted dress accentuated. His head leaning into your musky perfume filled with notes of amber and vanilla that drifted past him in a gentle greeting as you took your seat next to your solicitor. The intoxicating smell enough to cause a breathy exhale of repressed want from his throat. Tommy.

Feeling the intent stare of your husband boring into your heated cheek, you whipped your head up from the documents between your painted nails to see Tommy leant back in his chair, admiring your choice of outfit from between the men of law that separated you. Why did he have to look at you that way? He was doing it on fucking purpose.

Snapping your eyes away, a screeching sound of a chair scraped along the floor, followed by the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching.

" Darling" he greeted, taking the opportunity to approach you and the tray of refreshments stood feet from your desk as the fumbling Judge lay out your weighty file in front of him with the help of his assistant.

"Tommy" you replied, eyes fixed on the documents in front of you, trying your upmost to shield yourself from the pull of his daily dose of sweet-talking.

Scoffing a chuckle, Tommy raised the glass tumbler of water to his grinning lips. Amused by the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him.

"Quite the entrance. Was that little show all for me..." You suddenly felt the heat of his body next to you, his distinct cologne of tobacco intertwined with whiskey and soot filling your senses. "...eh?" he perched himself on the edge of your desk as he leant into your ear, his fiery breath sending a ripple of goosebumps down your neck as the beginnings of a cocky smile curled against your skin.

" No" you firmly stated, feeling the remaining surges of embarrassment making laps in your stomach as you raised your eyes to see the smug smirk of enjoyment plastered across his face. Did you do it for him? Were you still seeking his attention, his approval after all this time, after everything that had happened?

" You sure, sweetheart?" his brows knitted together, mischief twinkling in the corners of his creased eyes as his hand reached under the table, roaming under your dress until his fingers met the clasps of your garter and unclipped one.

"Hmm, such a tease" he chuckled to himself, feeling the sting of your hand slapping his fingers away. Toying with your emotions and the agreed boundaries he was unwilling to follow once again.

Whether it be to purposely play with you or sheer refusal to admit he was the one that had pushed you to this point. Tommy didn't care. For your husband would never abide by anyone, let alone follow life's rules that weren't from the beat of his own drum.

" Be seated everyone" the Judge ordered, bringing your racing heart down to a manageable speed as Tommy scooted off the wooden table onto two feet, adjusting his suit before reluctantly playing along to the six-month temper tantrum he believed you was having.

As the dreary morning of papers being sent back and forth between lawyers, of decisions over the custody of your shared child continued. Tommy made it his sole mission to find an issue with every suggestion raised. Addressing only you throughout the entire ordeal as his generously paid lawyer, buried his head in his hands with frustration.

" Mr Shelby" the Judge's voice rose above Tommy's interruptions as he wiped the bead of sweat that had settled on his temple. A huff of defeat in response to the insult that he, a man of his position, couldn't keep his courtroom and its sole troublemaker under control.

" Two Sundays out of the month, Y/N? I won't allow it, understood? Sunday is family time and we'll spend it together, whether you like it or not" Tommy rolled his shoulders, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as the Judge desperately tried to bring order to the room.

"Why don't we go back home and end this fucking circus, eh? I'll make love to you, we'll take Elsie out for an afternoon with the horses..." Tommy trailed off into a tangent of things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the stuffy room he was currently forced to be in with a wigged man telling him what he could and couldn't do with his family.

"Mr Shelby, I beseech you" the Judge removed his glasses, peering at your husband's lawyer to keep control of his client.

" You really want to do this, eh? To our daughter? Y/N? Y/N?!" the last of Tommy's patience quickly evaporated as you snapped your head away from his bellowing voice to the window beside you, tears spilling over your cheeks.

" Mr Shelby!" The magistrate slammed his hammer down onto its wooden pillow as an exasperated sigh at the tiresome morning loudly left his throat.

Ignoring the resonating boom of the wooden hammer, Tommy rested his arm on the back of his lawyer's chair as he leaned in. Whispering his orders into his ear as his scorching stare stayed fixed on you.

Daring to challenge the piercing pair of eyes burning into you, you raised your head as your husband's lawyer approached the bench with his orders.

Gaze drifting up from his clenched fists, you were met with nothing but anger. Anger at your refusal to bring an end to the whole charade, for your unwillingness to let him back into your martial bed over a paddy he believed would fizzle out within a week's time. How had things gotten to this point? Or more precisely, what had your dear husband done to push you to this point?

" Proceedings are postponed until further notice" the Judge's damning words shocked you out of your husband's hold on your every thought as your eyes darted to your lawyer.

" All rise" the portly guard beside him announced as those present dispersed from the room, leaving you with darting eyes scanning the empty rows of chairs until they settled on Tommy, and the satisfied smirk he was maliciously sending your way.

"What did you do? Tommy! What did you do?!" you shouted, storming over to him as he rose from his seat. Unbothered by your fit of rage and the role he played in its sudden appearance.

"You're so angry all the time, darling" he replied, dismissing your questions as his hands snaked over your waist, playfully pouting down at your widening eyes as if the entire ordeal was nothing but a small spat between a married couple.

"You might wanna get that checked love, can't be good for you, now can it?" He continued to rile you up after getting his way as you pushed him off you, feeling fooled by your lawyers guarantee that not even your husband could bring a halt to court proceedings after the lengthy battle you had already fought to get this point.

Tears settling between your lashes, you shook your head in disbelief at another delay to your freedom as you ran from the courtroom and your husband calling your name.

" Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed into the chilly blue sky as he followed after your hurried steps down to the bustling main road of Birmingham's town center.

"Hey!" He grabbed hold of your hips, spinning you around to face him and the tears streaming down your reddened cheeks.

"Hey..." he hushed your cries as you clutched your arms around your body from the bitter breeze of winter slowly rolling in.

"Here" he pulled his black overcoat from his shoulders, wrapping it around your trembling body, you shrugged off the moment it's warmth enveloped you.

No matter what he did, you wouldn't let him in. Why wouldn't you fucking let him back in?!, Tommy thought to himself, throwing his coat on the hood of his car. Oblivious or rather, ignorant to how he had toyed with you moments earlier.

" Why are you doing this, Tommy? We agreed to this. You agreed to this!" a sigh of defeat had your head turning in frustration to the cobbled ground below you. A stream of tears following in tow.

"Forced my hand more like" his huffy response snapped back as he fished in his suit jacket for a cigarette.

Eyes cast down, Tommy's stare darted between your tear-ridden cheeks and the morning dash of men and women hurrying to their places of work as you both stood in silence.

"Hey, look at me" he cupped your chin, turning your head to face him as he shuffled from foot to foot with a breathy exhale. "We'll deal with this in private, alright?" his brows raised, only to be welcomed with your rolling eyes of skepticism on what the word private actually meant to your husband whose idea of a fair deal was only if he was the one making all the deciding factors.

"Y/N?" he waited on your answer, softly brushing a lock of hair from your cheek when his eyes caught the sight of a police car sat guzzling gas on the opposite side of the road, and the prick inside he'd learnt had been hounding you for months on the whereabouts of his colleague.

Jaw tightening, Tommy watched as the detective gave a two-finger salute before turning the wheels of his car into the road and driving off with a pleased smirk. A clear provocation to rile up the notorious gangster on a day he knew Tommy's reputable temper could see him snap given the right push, in the right direction.

" Y/N?" his attention flew back to you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. " I don't want this" he held your gaze as the end of his cigarette sizzled inches from your cold cheeks.

" I love you" his stare intensified as he wet his lips, his hands reinforcing his words with a stern shake to your face. " I can't lose you. If you want me to change...fuck, I'll change, alright?"

" For god's sake Tommy, that's not...not what I want from you" You felt a surge of disappointment plummet to the bottom of your stomach at the empty promises you had heard countless times before. Hoping that for once, just once, he'd say something that could reassure you enough to put a stop to the yearning you had to reconcile without a shit load of regret following shortly after it.

"I was just keeping you safe, darling" his hands dropped to your arms, tenderly rubbing them within his palms.

" Is that what you want me to do? Pull back my men? Is that what this is all about, eh?" He continued with his refusal to acknowledge the lengths he'd gone to keep control over every waking moment of your day.

" You've given up on us, haven't you?" Tommy huffed at your silence and the reaction it had on his grating need to have your undivided attention at all times.

"Just know this is all on you, eh? Our daughters' parent's separated because of you. Great fucking example you're showing her, darling. Well done" Tommy shook his head, viscously switching his mood back to his bitter brooding over your lack of response, and the expected answer you were unwilling to give.

Your silence being enough to make clear where you stood on the matter, you turned to leave as his hurtful words settled in your chest. Burrowing down to your heart, to the pang of guilt you felt for the stress you was putting your six-year-old daughter through.

"Where are you going?" He stopped you from taking another step as he grabbed hold of your arm.

" Into town" you attempted to shrug off his grip as you watched the barrage of questions form behind his eyes.

" You need some money?" He slipped his burning cigarette between his lips as he pulled out a bundle of cash, flicking through the notes.

" No" you huffed, folding your arms away from him as a wave of embarrassment that you didn't have the money for a taxi fare, let alone a trip into town without your husband giving you your weekly pocket money, scorched you with humiliation.

" Why not?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he threw his cigarette to the ground. " Y/N, why not?" His question turned into an urgent demand to know what had you needing to walk into the city for something he could get one of his men to fetch for you.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself, feeling the familiar tone of interrogation seeping though his questions. You just wanted space, space away from the house you still found yourself sharing with him, from the constant reminder of happy memories spent together, from him, from him and his fucking need to know your whereabouts every hour of every second of the day.

"You have someone else paying for this outing into town, is that why you don't need my money, eh? Tommy's paranoia started to turn it's ugly head into an onslaught of never-ending questions.

"Going on another fucking date, hm? Like you did with that pig" his grip tightened, releasing his pent-up anger out on your reddening arms as he glared at you with eyes burning with enough fury to heat your face.

" It's was a friendly dinner..." You sighed with frustration at his inability to stop himself before he pushed you further away with words intended to hurt.

" You meeting someone, Y/N? You fucking somebody, eh?" His voice rose, letting go of the little self-restraint he still possessed as he abruptly pulled you into his body.

" Why you doing this to me, hm?" His voice suddenly softened into desperate pleas anyone would think was an end to his anger. But his tight hold on your body as his cheek pressed against yours, the sound of his gritted teeth grinding together against your ear, enough to tell you otherwise that his fury was seconds away from bubbling over.

" Tommy stop...enough!" You managed to push him away as you turned to leave, refusing to withstand another second of the man that had replaced your once doting husband.

" You won't get rid of me that easily, darling! I won't let it happen!" His voice bellowed into the soot filled air, garnering the attention of those within ear shot. "You marry a Shelby, you stay married! You hear me?! You stay, fucking married!"

" Fuck!" His hands slammed against the door of his car as his lawyer nervously approached, announcing his presence with the clearing of his throat.

" What?!" Tommy's head snapped back to the fumbling man with a file of papers requiring his attention.

" See that those get lost" Tommy's demeanor quickly simmered, keeping the only document that held any interest before piling the rest into the arms of his lawyer.

Sinking into the driver's seat, his true intentions, written in the words of his solicitor, found their way into the glove box as one of his men slid into the passenger's side.

" What's the plan boss?'" the peaked soldier questioned, his voice drowning out into a distant muffle of unintelligible words as Tommy's eyes followed you walking along the cobbled path. His fingers hovering over the ignition, ready to leave when you turned back to look at him with locks of hair dancing in front of your eyes, cheeks rosy red from the chill that had settled over the foggy city. The sight twisting an unbearable urge within him to have you walk back to him, to have you back in his arms.

Were you coming back to him?, Tommy waited, a breath of anticipation catching in his throat as you stood from afar before the ends of your dress turned with a gust of wind, pushing you around the corner out of sight.

" Boss?" The peaky asked, waiting for his orders as his hand rested on the handle of the door.

" Follow her"

" Fuck..." you stifled the steady flow of tears trickling down your cheeks as you darted into a narrow bricked path behind a row of shops. A face as famous as yours was, and would always be a topic of conversation, even more so with a set of tears covering it.

How had it come to this? Was it after the birth of your daughter? No, no, before then? When you was dating?", you plagued yourself with the same frequency of questions your husband tired you with.

No matter how many questions your weary thoughts tormented you with, the truth was, you couldn't pinpoint when your marriage fell apart. It had happened slowly, small changes gone unnoticed. And then, in true Tommy fashion, accelerated to a point where the ignored had become glaringly obvious.

Yet still, wrenching pangs of yearning had you feeling like you couldn't live without him as long sleepless nights dragged on. The heat of his body absent from under the sheets of your martial bed. He was all you had ever known. And he knew it. He knew it.

"You'll pay privy to his crimes when I finally get him, Mrs Shelby. You and your daughter" a voice snatched you from the beckoning memories of your husband's arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

" Leave me alone" your eyes snapped up as you blinked your tears away, pulling yourself from the detective that had tracked you down for a second time that week.

" You're making a mistake" he caught your arm, forcing you to face his insistent inquiries into your husband.

"For the last time, I don't know anything. Now let me go" you echoed the countless responses you had already given.

One dinner had landed you not only at the brunt end of Tommy's raging anger, that you had dared to entertain someone of the opposite sex that was neither blood nor bound to you by marriage, but the watchful eye of your date's colleague, adamant on finding what he believed would be his partner's dead body, murdered at the hands of your husband after a fit of jealousy.

" I can offer you protection, away from him. All you have to do..." He slipped his details into your hand before you abruptly put an end to his concerns for your safety.

" I said, leave me alone" you pulled his hand off you, tired of being man-handled, of being expected to appease every living fucking creature of the opposite sex.

"You'll be next, Mrs Shelby. Mark my words!" He shouted to you as you drifted back into the bustling streets, his words leaving a harrowing sense of dread tightening around your throat as you shoved his card within the warmth of your pocket.

" Tommy doesn't share his toys!" The last of his warnings rang back to you as you leaned against a lonely lamp post, steadying the weight of your body against its metal frame when the world you were trying to flee from appeared in the corner of your eyes in the form of a peaked cap soldier watching from afar.

In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Would you ever be free from the binding love that had chained you together? Or would fate echo the words of your shared vows spoken on your wedding day?

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219

[serpentandflower]

A smutty little bucktommy drabble, because I am determined to live in a world where the end of 8x06 never happened. :)

❖❖❖❖❖❖

A trembling gasp slips free, exhaled against the pillow beneath his head. He’s caught there, barely able to breathe or think or do much of anything at all. 

Only taking what he’s given.

Lips brush over his temple, a gentle contrast to the hands gripping his hips. Pulling him back into every thrust that sets his body alight. He’s flying and falling all at once, as desperate pleas rise in his throat yet only whimpers and moans fall from his lips.

“That’s it,” that familiar voice croons in his ear, teeth tugging at his lobe. “Doing so good for me.”

Those hands grip him tighter, and that mouth latches onto the junction of his neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping and doing all he can to bring a beautiful smear of colors to the surface of his skin.

Electric heat sweeps through him, and he tilts his hips into every thrust. Desperately chasing the utter bliss that stays just out of reach.

“Tommy,” he cries hoarsely, a desperate thread weaving through his voice.

“I got you, baby, just let go.”

Buck relents to the fierce drive of his hips, his lips parting on a silent scream with every thrust of that thick, perfect cock. Fingers tug at his hair and the pinpricks of pain contrast the searing pleasure that builds and builds and builds, the dueling sensations nudging him closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” he breathes out, barely aware of having said it.

But Tommy hears it, and he’s hardly ever able to deny Buck a thing.

A choked sob catches in his throat when Tommy’s hand finds his flushed, leaking cock. It takes no more than three quick strokes and a callused thumb rubbing over his slit. His body seizes up, hitched whines tearing from his throat with every wave of utter pleasure that washes over him.

Tommy’s moan breaks through as he clenches tight around him and Buck does it purposefully now, riding the edge of overstimulation with every stuttered thrust of Tommy’s hips as tears slip free from beneath his lashes.

“Inside,” he gasps, knowing by the tremble of his body that Tommy is closed. “Please, Tom, don’t-don’t pull out.”

Tommy’s face buries in his throat to muffle the groan that wrenches from his chest, and Buck shudders at the spill of warmth deep inside of him. Marking him from within and claiming him in the most primal of ways. He clings to the feeling, a tired smile tugging at his lips that he got exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, baby,” Tommy sighs, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck as he slowly pushes himself up.

Buck whines a little as his cock slips out, already mourning the loss of it. Tommy’s broad hands grip his ass, spreading his cheeks as a tired laugh falls from his lips. He can feel the come trickling out of him and his teeth sink into his bottom lip as his face grows warm knowing that Tommy is watching.

“Look at you,” he says, his thumb catching all that escapes and pushing it back in.

Buck whimpers, reaching back blindly because he knows that Tommy won’t deny him. Soon enough, they’re entangled beneath the messy sheets. He’s surrounded by Tommy in a way he’s never been before this, before him, and it’s never going to stop being one of his favorite things. Knowing that Tommy can hold him like this.

Lifting their joined hands, he brushes his lips over Tommy’s knuckles and whispers a wish into the dark.

“Don’t leave.”

Tommy hums deep in his chest, tugging him even closer as if they can crawl into each other’s skin if they try hard enough.

Buck almost wishes they could.

“Not going anywhere,” Tommy murmurs sleepily.

It’s the last thing any of them say for a long time, and Buck clings to the promise in those words.

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Slashers and 69

I've put the position of 69 in my first NSFW Alphabet for RZ Michael and put it in the Og Michael NSFW Alphabet. So I'm going to do this post of other gents that would do 69

Characters: Michael Myers (OG and RZ), The Sinclairs, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Saywer, and Brahms Heelshire

Minors DNI

Michael myers 1978

Michael is a total manic when it comes to giving oral. He's like a starving man going to town on your insides.

Giving him oral is a site he behold. Bobbing on his shaft to pleasure him feels so good

One night, as he's going down on you, you blurted out if you could blow him while he eats you out.

Seeing how this would happen, he laid down on his back as you sit on his face while you go to his erection to make him cum

Michael eats you out as you go down on him, making him moan from it

Thrusting into mouth as he held on your hips

He makes you cum before him

This should be in the rotation in sex

Jason Voorhees

Jason, being a gentleman he was taught to be by his mother. He knows how to make you feel good

When ask if you want to try this position, he follows along

You position yourself. You gave him a kiss on his glistening tip before putting him in your mouth

Jason licked your cilt before eating you out

Nearly there, you took him deep before you squirted into his mouth, and not too far, he released his load into your throat. Swallowing afterwards

Definitely want to do it again another day

Bo Sinclair

Oh kinky

He's done it before with other partners before you

I see him as a standing 69 type guy

Better hold on to his hips while he's eating you as he holds onto your body so you don't fall on to the ground

He's a master with his tongue it doesn't take too long for you to orgasm ripped through your body

Jerking him off before he cums which you catch with your mouth

"God Doll, you look beautiful. "

Brahms Heelshire

Sixty nine?

You mean sex?

Him being not up to date with sexual encounters doesn't know what the position of Sixty nine is. So have to show him

Laying on your back while he positions above you before slipping his tongue into your cunt

Lapping your tongue on his shaft before placing him in

The sensation of his act caused Brahms to start thrusting into your throat, causing you to gag at times

He made you came as he does down your throat

Definitely doing this again

Vincent Sinclair

Oh my

Much like Michael, Vincent acts like a starving man giving your oral pleasure

When you suggest the position of 69 to him, his face becomes red from the through of giving him oral while he does to you, it is going to be an experience

Getting into position, he licked your clit with long strokes before you leaned down to his crouch taking him halfway in

God, did his mind melt from this, the feeling of your velvety walls on his tongue mixed with you sucking his cock was going to make him bust so soon. But he must hold before he could. He wants to make you feel good before he can release

Before he knew it, you climaxed as you reached your orgasm and he shivered as he finally cums

This experience gave him ideas for future art pieces

Thomas Hewitt

Oh lord

Tommy loves the sight of you taking him or seeing you pleasured from him eating you out. But wanting to eat you out while you take him? Oh lord, he's going to die happily from this

Kissing your sensitive pussy before licking your folds

Watching you taking him from the amgle he's at is a sight to behold

Tommy was getting closer to his release but tried to hold for a little more longer till

But couldn't hold anymore he released his load into your mouth

But not letting that distract him to please you.

Not too long after you reached your orgasm by the power of his tongue

After the cool down, he wants to do some love making

The position is going into your nighttime routine

Michael Myers 2007

Oh Fuck yes does he love the idea of wanting to eat you out as you take his shaft

Cause of how big he is, he needs to maneuver himself before going to pleasure town for you if he's on his back

One hand on your ass and one on your head, he wants some control with the pace

Moaning on his cock while he eats your pussy as he moans.

Fucking your throat as he thrusts up

You came as he picked up the pace of his tongue

He pulls you off his dick before fucking you in the Missionary position to make you squirm even more

Lester Sinclair

Oh la la

He thinks you're saying sex as a number shortcut

"It's a position, honey." You clarify to him, "Oh. I thought it was another teem for sex only." He replied

Him a bit more of a reserve than Giver, he tries his best to give you oral pleasure, but he manages to get a technique down

Let's just say he gotten sprayed when you reach your orgasm.

Oh my, that was a surprise

He would try this again if he can do his magic on ya

Bubba Saywer

Shy boi blushed when you mentioned this position. You sit on his face while you give him fellatio at the same time

You had to guide him through this

Now in position, he started to eat you out like a starving animal

Taking him orally isn't no problem

Bubba enjoying this is like a drug

With one last lick you came as he released the same

He wants this to happen again right now

I hope this last one is OK cause my sleep schedule isn't great

[pedge-page]

What about Joel having to spend a night away for work last minute and reader sulking about it when he gets home and blanking him? 🤣 Cue grovelling from Joel lol

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work

Notes: I must be too yeehaw American because I had to look up what "blanking" someone meant 😂. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this! Decided to make him late rather than spending a whole night away because lets be real, she'd be serving divorce papers for that.

Warnings: brief oral (f receiving) scene; jealous!Reader, Stubborn reader is BACK

18+ ONLY:

- - - -

He knows he fucked up too. Big time. 

When he said he’d be home at the latest by 7:00pm and it’s now 7:02 and he’s just getting in the truck leaving the site. And when his call goes to voicemail for the 3rd time, and then the fourth time tells him that the number is no longer valid (he’s been blocked), he knows he’s in Big-Fucking-Trouble.

Doesn’t want to call Tommy up for help to coax partially because he wants to fix this own his own, and partially to save Tommy from your wrath you most certainly will take out on him rather than your absent husband.

He grabbed a bouquet of flowers at the grocery store (he’s already in the doghouse so what’s another 5 minutes added to his sentence) and is currently speeding home, a solid 15mph over the limit. Tonight isn’t even anything special: you had both just come back from a lovely weekend trip on the coast and were just settling back in to your house. But when Joel doesn’t deliver on his word, isn’t home for pizza and Pepsi, and sitting behind you while rubbings your back and belly for a quiet movie night…

Well, he’s never been late since the start of your pregnancy. Doesn’t want to think what hellfire you’re going to spit at him the moment he walks in that door.

So here he is about to walk in that door. He takes a big breath, not feeling this anxious since the he proposed to you, and steps in.

He immediately makes contact with you: standing at the end of the hall, illuminated by the kitchen light with your extra extra large T shirt stretched over your belly and dangling loosely around your thighs, hands by your side, barefoot, despite how often he nags at you to wear socks around the house so your feet don’t get cold. He’s thankful to see you hadn’t packed a suitcase, trying to leave the house with a “my husband doesn’t love me” stunt again. 

You clearly had just been walking past when you heard the door, not even fully turning to him but just having your head directed to the entrance the second he walked in. You briefly note the flowers in his hands before your eyes quickly go back to his. He feints an apologetic smile, heart beating so hard. You’re soooo quiet. The calm before the storm.

He gulps hard. 

Instead, you turn forward once more and continue walking towards the living room without a word.

You have a hand on your back as you gently collapse onto the couch. 

“Baby,” he says meekly, voice all tiny yet determined.

You pull your legs up over a pillow and fold open your book.

He comes to kneel beside you, immediately kissing your shoulder.

You do nothing. 

“Baby,” he says more clearly. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t beat the time.”

You flip a page, tilting your head to read the fascinating text on the page rather than listen to your poor husband on his knees for you.

His fights with the sleeve of your shirt. Would you at least look at him? He’s holding the flowers still in his hand, big puppy dog eyes trying their best to plea with you, and with his irresistible pouty lips that get him just about anything he wanted from you. But you only lend him a sigh, flipping yet another page.

So it’s gonna be like that.

"Please, angel. I was tryin' so hard to leave on time like I said. They got the concrete all mixed up and it needed to be set today, was tryin' to get out of there, just couldn't get it moving fast enough, I'm sorry baby I really sped over here fast I can to see ya, couldn't wait a second longer—"

“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.

He’s started, but nonetheless quick to be by you.

You check the clock on the wall and laugh. Time had gotten away from you too. You slam your book and hoist yourself up, on the other end of the couch to avoid his anxious hands fluttering to your aid. You brush past him and start your climb up the stairs.

Joel is right behind you, a bit of hope stirring in him. Its not until you’re walking through your bedroom door—and slamming it right in his face that he gets the message loud and clear.

Perhaps he earned a night on the couch to pray your forgiveness. After finding a suitable vase for the roses, he puffs up his pillow, his back killing him (though he’d never say it aloud while you’re waddling around with a whole 'nother being in your belly for the last few months) and crashes down on the sofa.

He just makes out the light go off under the door in the bedroom before he too is closing his eyes.

Tomorrow brings a new day, and he’s gonna spend every second satisfying his wife. He’s deserves his stay on the couch tonight.

-

He did NOT deserve this bullshit.

It’s been 3 fucking days since he came home late.

3 days of waking up early, trying to kiss his beautiful wife and baby momma with sweet affirmations and praises, which you dodge and continue about your stubborn ignoring-test. He spent all morning cooking every single food you’d craved since your pregnancy started—waffles, French toast, cinnamon pancakes, toast with special mixed fruit jam you can only get at a grocery store an hour away, scrambled, over easy, poached, hard boiled eggs. All arranged so beautifully on the table, even going as far to put the napkins on the left, after you screeched at him a few months ago for haphazardly having them on either the right or left, and never with the fork consistently on top.

He thought he’d learned his lesson, thought he made more than enough up to you, but no. You breeze right by, making a cup of tea, and go back upstairs to your closed door.

Your sadistic mind had given him false hope when you hadn’t locked the door on him on night number two. He slept in his bed, but you had made a clear parry by slotting between the two of you the infernal pregnancy pillow that Joel had kept in storage since you “Much preferred your husband’s plushy belly and soothing rubs.” 

Fat chance tonight.

Every minute he wasn’t telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how lucky he is, he spends groveling with please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I’m such a worm.

None of it sways you any differently. 

By day 4, he’s given up the sweet talk and grand gestures. Goes for a “think like her” kind of mental approach. 

He tries to bribe you—either making you a Pepsi float, or even bringing home the famous Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with EXTRA Rainbow sprinkles. But even as he temptingly waves in front of your little wiggly nose, you don’t acknowledge him.

He makes a big show to sigh heavily in defeat, leaving it on the kitchen table alone and trotting helplessly upstairs for a shower.

Less than 7 minutes later he’s come back down to see if you’d given in yet, maybe even telling him what a fantastic husband he is while shoveling your face with ice cream and admitting you were being dramatic. 

Instead, you’re still sitting on the couch, exactly as he left you. Of course, the milkshake cup is completely empty, sucked clean of its gooeyness, and there’s a little splotch of chocolate sauce lingering on your chin you had failed to wipe clean. 

A start, he thinks.

Still though, you don’t pay him any mind, scrolling on your phone with tight lips.  

He wonders how long you could go on with this game.  

It’s honestly a fucking terrible miracle—not even since before you were pregnant had you gone this long shutting the fuck up. But now its horrifyingly eerie, like a curse has fallen upon him and he’s doing everything he can to break it, to bring back your nagging and bitching and whining and crying because it would be so much more relaxing than this new kind of psychotic hell you’ve subjected him to.

He starts getting a little more involved: playing with your body, touching you softly with gentle strokes along your thighs and belly. You hadn’t flinched away, or tried moving to another spot on the couch. 

Which confirmed one thing to him: your horniness and lack of physical attention from your husband due to your stubborn mind was losing your mental battle to hold out against him.

So Joel doesn’t say anything either as he moves his lips over your breasts, down your swollen belly and kissing his babygirl in your bump. He mumbles, “Mommy is awfully mad at Daddy, think I can cheer her up?” 

The baby kicks as if in agreement. His gaze glances up briefly to see if you’re listening.

Your eyes catch and yours quickly dart away, leaning back and pretending to yawn. He snickers before continuing his hot trail of open mouthed kisses until your legs “shift” and “accidentally” part on their own.

He makes sweet, insatiable yet slow love to your pussy, licking a fat strip from your little clenched hole to that hot delicious center that is beyond wet for him—yet another example of how much your body clearly can’t ignore him forever.

But, ever as he brings you to a long needed orgasm, you bite your tongue, absolutely refusing to give him even the slightest sound of satisfaction despite clenching tightly around his thick digits pumping into you. Only letting out a strangled breath through your nose while you stare up to the ceiling, fingers folded across your tummy as if bored. 

He wipes away the slick from his mustache. Hell, even he can admit you deserve an applaud for making it through that without uttering a peep to his skills.

Hurts like hell on the inside though that you’re just that mad still.

He had hoped that being forced to drive with him due to your size preventing you from sitting behind the wheel would corner you into talking him, but even then, as he opens the passenger door for you, you climb aboard and slam the door shut without his assistance.

Now the two of you are on your way to yours and Maria’s weekend brunch. Tommy was also coming to drop his girlfriend off, so it would be a good time to catch him up on this unqiuely-pregnant-you madness.

You snatch your purse and hop out of the car, mood going a full 180 and instantly greeting Maria with a warm hug and perky voice. The two of you sit down at a little table way aways from your idiot husband and brother in law.

Tommy nods him over to the bar and Joel grumbles over.

“She ignoring you?” His little brother asks while shelling peanuts.

“Is it that obvious?” Joel shakes his head. He can’t even leave off with Tommy because he knows you won’t answer his texts asking what time you’re done for pickup. So he’s stuck here to wait for you the entire time.

“You try going down on—“

“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”

“She didn’t like it?”

“Oh no, she came hard. Wouldn’t even whimper for me when she was clenching her little cunt around my fingers—” he says with an aggressive whisper, his pointer and middle fingers shooting up in the air with wild eyes demonstrating the scene, “—and her little numb twitchin’ on my tongue. Didn’t even fucking moan. She’s a stubborn girl but I don’t deserve that.”

Tommy shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn. That’s just determination right there. Gotta give it to her.”

Tommy excuses himself with a slap to the shoulder, muttering “gotta take a leak” and disappears to the bathroom.

Joel wouldn’t mind having a drink right now, but know’s he’s gotta stay sober to drive you home. A miserable, silent filled drive once again. He glanced at his watch, following each tick of the hand.

“Hi there.”

Joel almost didn’t address the voice of the woman who had gentle snuck up behind him, moving to take Tommy’s seat. She’s probably a little younger than you, a nice kind smile, inviting and warm towards a stranger. 

Joel politely smiles back with a little nod. 

She offers a sweet “thanks”, a blush creeping on her cheeks before she begins to speak: “Listen, I don’t mean to prude… but I saw you come in and ...I’m usually not so brash—but I was wondering…”

-

Meanwhile, your baby is beat boxing extra hard today in your stomach. You can’t even focus on eating your salad and keeping up with Maria’s chatter about Tommy’s nose hairs all over the vanity. 

Your baby is smart. She knows something is up. You narrow your eyes and look around, finding Joel and company at the bar— 

Except the company he is keeping is NOT Tommy but instead, a gorgeous woman tossing her hair and flashing her pearly white teeth off at your husband, who’s giving her his full attention. She’s giggling with him, taking animatedly with her hands, lingering heavy eye contact and touching his watch as if looking for an excuse to get closer.

You forget about the massive planet sized lump in your belly as you instantly stand up, nearly tipping the table and all its dishes and cutlery over. 

Maria is calling your name but you don’t have the mind to answer, striding over like a bull towards the bar.

-

“Hiiiiiiii!”

Joel and the woman both jump at the harsh shrill of an annoying, high pitched, slightly perturbed but faking a smile, voice screeching behind them—the most beautiful voice Joel’s ever heard…and had missed so dearly this week.  

The woman looks over to you, seemingly startled that you had interrupted the conversation so brazenly.

“Oh, um, hi,” she offers, blinking off your pregnant belly and abrupt appearance.

“This is Joel,” you boast, pointing the shlump of a man in front of her.

“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.

You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m his wife.”

“Ah—I—“

“Annnnnnnnd this is our baby!” You boast, proudly rubbing over that enormous swell of your tumtum so she can see in case it wasn’t the biggest fucking thing in this room. “And… you are?” You ask sweetly.

“Um…” she takes one last glance at Joel, his apologetic shrug saying everything then at you, your hard gaze burning holes into her head. “…leaving,” she says towards you.

“Great answer. I like you :) Bye Bye now!” You wave enthusiastically with a chipper voice and a deadly smile. She nods fretfully and pops off the stool, walking away like a threatened animal.

He just chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a grin. “Ya know, she just came over to ask where I got my watch.”

“And did you tell her your WIFE bought it?” You ask, poking your finger at his chest.

He has to hide his crooked smile. It’s the first time you’ve directly spoken to him since Monday. “Yeah, I did. She asked where ya got it, because she was looking for one just like it—for her husband.”

Your finger fidgets slightly, expression drawing a blank at the revelation turning over in your mind.

“……………………………………………....................................oh.”

He rotates his stool to face you. You’re steeping in your thoughts, the confidence faltering just slightly in your mind at the realization of how grossly you had interpreted the situation between that innocent woman and your hubby. He didn’t even care, though. All he could think about was how his heart feels 10x lighter seeing you back in your usual, bold, daring, audacious self. All of your attention on him once again.

“I’ll admit, still felt good havin’ ya come to my rescue.”

You scoff, near offended by his words. “Well duh, you’re mine.”

“That right? Even these last few days?”

Yet another bomb goes off in your head at the second realization—that you had forfeited your punishment to ignore him to the ends of the earth.

 You cross your arms defensively anyway. “Well... I…decided.”

“Mmm?”

“That…I needed a back rub. But you clearly you can’t pick up on that on your own so—now I have to verbally tell you.”

“Ah huh. Sure it wasn’t cuz you were jealous? Couldn’t stand me being interested in another woman since my own made it clear she didn’t want me no more? Because my wife decided she couldn’t be patient and wait the extra 13 minutes I was running late before punishin’ me all goddamn week?”

Oh wait—was he really only late by 13 minutes? You could have sworn it was an hour plus!

“That wasn’t 13 minutes! Do you know how to tell time? It was over an hour—“

“Did you set your clock back like I told you to the night before when we got back from the coast, into our own time zone?”

😳

- - - -

Also this is how I see reader getting ate out but trying to be nonchalaunt about it:

conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot

Permanent taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[ikinremu]

KINKTOBER DAY 16 | ORGASM DENIAL X TOMMY SHELBY

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Tags: P in V, Unprotected, Orgasm Denial, Begging, Praise

“Tommy, please..” The words fell from your lips amidst a whine, desperate and full of frustration; frustration that only grew by the moment.

A low chuckle escaped his mouth in response to your plea as he picked up the pace of his hips, his cock striking deep inside your cunt as he pulled you against each of his thrusts.

Countless times, Tommy had brought you to the very brink of an orgasm before halting his actions at just the right time.

“Such sweet begging.” He smirked, squeezing greedily at your backside as he pulled your hips against the motions of his own, “How bad do you wanna come on my cock, love? Tell me how bad you want it.”

Your eyelids fluttered together for a brief moment, mumbling mindlessly under your breath as your cunt clenched around his length, only growing more sensitive after each denied climax.

“Please, Tommy-” You murmured, “Let me, fuck, please let me come..”

He let out a rather hoarse, breathy groan as your words met his ears, driving his cock deeper inside the warmth of your sopping pussy, relentless in his pace.

“God, sweetheart, hard for me to resist when you ask so nicely, eh?” He chuckled.

Your chest heaved as his hips worked quickly against you. He altered the focus of one hand, bringing his palm up the flushed skin of your stomach until he reached your chest, brushing the pad of his thumb over the delicate skin. Maintaining a soft, purposefully teasing touch, Tommy toyed with the peak between his digits as you let out a shaky sound.

Once more, the familiar sensation swarmed your body, a release building in your abdomen as your thighs trembled either side of him. The thick of his tip taunted your g-spot, fingers rolling your hardened nipples between them as he continued to draw you nearer and nearer again.

“So close.” Tommy breathed, “Can feel you’re cunt squeezing my cock, love.”

His words only heightened your arousal, slick coating your upper-thighs as your back arched against his thrusts, nodding in response.

“Shit..” You mumbled, anticipation brewing in your stomach as your orgasm approached.

He chuckled once more, applying a little more pressure to your nipples as he filled your cunt with his pulsing cock, hitting deep inside the warmth of you as he brushed against your most sensitive spots,“Feels good, eh sweetheart?”

As you nodded, he brought the bucking of his hips to a sudden halt, drawing the heat of his touch from your nipples as he stopped his thrusts entirely.

Your chest heaved, rising and falling in a blend of frustration and exhaustion as the tension inside your stomach died down before you could reach your so-desired peak. You practically huffed, once again denied the high you so desperately craved.

Your gaze flickered up to Tommy as he stared intently back at you, his lips painted with blatant satisfaction.

“One more time.”

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please note that in the process of kinktober works releasing, I’m also working through requests - so if you’ve sent one in thank you as always for your patience!!

[zablife]

A Cozy Night in with Tommy

Tommy Shelby x female reader

A/N: Wrapping him in a blanket and putting logs on the fire, requested by @brummiereader. Children's story referenced is the Aesop fable The Lion and the Mouse. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: drinking, unwanted advances, bodily harm Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

"A lion lay sleeping in the forest...," a soft voice lilted, the melodic tone wafting into Tommy's office like a gentle spring breeze.

Removing his spectacles and dropping back into his chair to listen, Tommy hummed in contentment. This was his favorite part of the evening because it signaled the beginning of the children's bedtime routine. Within the hour, you would be here with him, reading your own book quietly on the sofa as he finished his paperwork and stole glances across the room.

It had taken weeks for you to feel comfortable enough to accept his nightly invitation, thinking it improper to be alone with a man twice your age whom you'd just met. However, you acquiesced as the pained look of sorrow grew in his eyes.

Frances explained he'd lost two wives under tragic circumstances which left him an achingly lonely widower. Upon hearing this, your kind heart urged you to look after him. It was the least you could do considering his benevolence, offering you shelter when you came to him for help.

Now you'd been with the Shelbys six months and you'd made it your duty to bring cheer to the entire household. One thing the family seemed to enjoy was your storytelling and though Mr. Shelby didn't often finish his work in time to join you, you always hoped he was listening.

You had no way of knowing he cracked his door at the same time each night, straining to hear every word. In fact, he was in rapt attention at that very moment. When you imitated the roar of the lion followed by the high pitched squeak of the captured little mouse, he couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips.

"Spare me! Please let me go..." you begged in an overly exaggerated plea, clasping your hands in prayer dramatically until Charlie and Ruby erupted in giggles at your theatrics.

However, little Ruby soon turned pensive. "Does the lion hurt the mouse?" she gulped, clutching onto your sleeve.

The contact startled you as Ruby had been decidedly standoffish, unwillingly to accept any sort of mother figure so quickly after the death of her own. You placed an arm around her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "No, he's quite generous," you assured her.

By the time you'd finished, Tommy was relaxing with whisky tumbler in hand, trying to be patient as you answered the children's questions about the moral of the story.

"It's about repaying debts," Charlie nodded solemnly. "Dad says a person should always pay their debts. Do mice?" he pondered, tilting his head to think for a moment.

You giggled at the firm assertion and his businesslike tone, so much like Mr. Shelby at times. "Well, according to this fable they do," you conceded. "But more importantly it's about kindness and how it's never wasted." Ruby hugged you tightly in reply, proof that the time you'd spent with the Shelby family was bringing her out of her shell.

Your heart swelled at the notion, a contentedness coming over you as you tucked the children into their beds and watched them snuggle beneath the covers. With a feeling of satisfaction, you skipped happily down the stairs toward Mr. Shelby's office in hopes of brightening his evening as well. Only then would you feel your day was complete.

However, the moment you glimpsed his hunched postured and tense looking jaw in the fading firelight, you paused. He seemed as though he were considering something of great importance and you were reluctant to disturb him. "Is everything alright, Mr. Shelby? Would you like to be alone?" you asked, peering into the shadows of his office.

He slowly raised his head from the desk, exhaustion evident in his bloodshot eyes. "'M fine," he mumbled before straightening in his chair. "Come," he urged with a wave of his hand.

In accordance with your nightly routine, you crossed to the fireplace and carefully added enough wood to last until you retired. However, as you turned to select a book from the large shelves by the desk, the now roaring fire illuminated Mr. Shelby's face, which was much paler than usual. Your fingertips lingered over the spine of a leather-bound volume as worry began to crease your brow.

Noticing your hesitation, Tommy asked, "Haven't found what you're looking for?"

You shook your head softly to indicate that wasn't the problem. Meeting his gaze earnestly, you ventured, "I hope you don't find this presumptuous, Mr. Shelby, but I think you could do with a bit of rest. You look unwell."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a heavy sigh. The silence that followed set you on edge, wondering if he might correct you once again. He was insistent you call him Tommy, but the informality of it still seemed disrespectful.

As you studied his graying temples for a hint of what he might be thinking, Tommy revealed the problem. With gravel filled voice he admitted, "It's true, I can't sleep...haven't been sleeping for some time now."

You felt an ache bloom in your chest at the thought of his suffering, wishing you could ease his discomfort. Without hesitation you complied with his request to join him on the sofa, happy to see he was taking your advice.

Removing the cozy blanket from the back of the sofa, you lightly draped it over his shoulders. With a warm smile, you offered to read aloud while he closed his eyes. However, he politely declined as he reached for your hand instead. Your heart skipped a beat as his long fingers closed over yours, giving a gentle squeeze.

"I like having you close to me, Y/n. Say you'll stay." His penetrating gaze made you feel small beside him and a ripple of anxiety coursed through you at the thought of confiding your plans for the future.

You took a deep breath for courage as you explained, "Mr. Shelby, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kindness, but it isn't my intention to rely on charity the rest of my life," you began. "I've taken a job so I won't be a burden to you any longer."

His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly at your statement. He disliked the news coming from you even less than Maggie at the exchange. She'd dutifully informed him of every call you made to town inquiring about job opportunities for young women. It was the beginning of his many sleepless nights, wondering how he might keep you here.

When your plans sounded like idle gossip, they were easy to ignore. Now the threat of you leaving was real and immediate. He knew he had to do something drastic. Opposite hand rising to stroke your cheek with his knuckles, his sharp blue eyes darted to yours as he blurted, "Marry me."

"I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, head spinning at his overly familiar show of affection. In all the time you'd spent with Mr. Shelby, he'd never once touched you. You felt it had to do with the respect he held for you, or at least that's what you told yourself until now.

"Mr. Shelby..."Tommy," you corrected yourself. "I'm very fond of you, but you've been like a father to me. So you see, I couldn't possibly mar..."

Before you could finish the thought, you felt the rough, chapped skin of his lips brushing against yours. He was tender at the start, but the first taste of you only made him hungry for more. Deepening the kiss, he slipped his tongue into your mouth roughly, making you startle.

He paid no attention to the way your body stiffened, a firm hand coming to rest at the back of your head. Locking you in place, his opposite hand unclasped from yours to roam your supple curves. Heart slamming against your ribcage, you tried to speak, but only a pathetic squeak emerged.

Tommy chuckled darkly, the innocent cry reminding him of the little mouse from the fable. He not only found your shock amusing, but arousing as well. Although you tried to jerk away, he forced your hand higher on his thigh until you brushed against the growing bulge in his trousers, making his need for you apparent. "I've been more than patient with you, darling."

"What do you mean? Please, you're scaring me," you pleaded in a quivering voice. As his teeth grazed the column of your throat, a strangled cry escaped. "Stop!"

He pulled his face from the crook of your neck, a storm of emotion passing through his eyes. You watched them darken menacingly as he wound his fist in your hair and gave a harsh tug. "I don't think you understand how this works. You came to me, remember?" he emphasized, tilting your neck back at an awkward angle. "Show a bit of gratitude," he scolded.

Tears pricking your eyes, you countered, "I know you don't want to hurt me."

The force he was exerting over you proved otherwise, a sneer curling his lip as he watched you tremble under him. "I gave you everything," he spat. "For what?" he asked rhetorically, tossing you away in disgust.

"Kindness is never wasted," you implored, reciting the message from the fable you so fervently believed.

Tommy scoffed at your childlike naïveté. "You've mistaken my kindness for weakness, love. You have no idea what I'm capable of," he threatened. Then with all the rage of a spurned man, he grasped your throat.

Fingers clutching onto his wrist, you silently pleaded with him for mercy, but his grip only tightened in response. "Spare me," you mouthed, unable to croak out the words.

Tommy shook his head at your request, "I won't let you go."

As you slowly lost the fight against him, he leaned down, stubbled cheek brushing against yours to place a kiss. The low whoosh of blood in your ears nearly drowned out his final declaration whispered calmly into the night. "You belong to me."

-----------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@red-riding-wood

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@stilestotherescue 

@helen06dreamer

@chaosinkest1996 

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@cillmequick

@mischievouslittlecreature

@justrainandcoffee

@ryecosse

@garrison-girl-08

@copinghex

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@cillianmurphyfanatic

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@babayaga67

@babaohhhriley

@kmhappybunny240

@rangerelik

@polishcrazyone

@shelby-fangirl00

@thomashelbyswife

@mythos-writes

@writeroutoftime

@thegreatdragonfruta

@peakyltd

@holacia3

@novashelby

[i3utterflyeffect]

more cared for than they realized

oh my god. actually selkie!alan taking care of chosen post-showdown.

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE BURGLARY

written with @milla-frenchy

Pairing: burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller

Summary: two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

TW: 18+ mdni. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NON-CON. Smut. Violence, suffocation, knife/gun play, penetration with a gun, mfm, bondage, degradation, praise, oral (male receiving), a depraved game, butt and pussy slapping, unprotected piv, creampies, cum eating, swearing.

Word count: 4,6k

A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this fic as our contribution to Dead Dove December by @romana-after-dark. Romana, thank you for hosting this amazing event celebrating dark fic! @milla-frenchy I had so much fun writing with you! I love you, baby!❤️🫂Dividers by @saradika-graphics

If you’re sensitive to any of the warnings, do not read the fic! We don’t condone the actions of the characters. It is all fictional!

MILLA’S MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror, the sound of water filling the tub is calming and hypnotizing. You’re wearing nothing but a pink robe, soft and warm. You untie it and open it wide before your gaze travels down to your breasts. You cup them gently and rub the nipples with your thumbs. They perk up at the touch and you flutter your eyes shut as the waves of arousal are spreading through every nerve in your body. One hand leaves your breast and glides down to caress your tummy and then mound. You dip your finger in between your folds and swirl it around your slightly wet clit. When you open your eyes, the mirror reflects your blown pupils back to you. You contemplate getting your vibrator from the drawer and using it in the bath. Your husband is away on a business trip and he won’t be back for a few more days but the idea of waiting for him to satisfy your desire excites you so you take a deep breath trying to calm down.

You take the robe off and hang it next to the sinks. You turn around, come up to the already full tub and bend over to check the water temperature. This is when he grabs you.

The iron grip of his hand is holding your wrists behind your back. His bulge is pushing in between your naked asscheeks. He’s big and strong and you’re helpless against him. He’s keeping you bent over the full bath and then pushes your torso down. Your head is submerged in the tub and you scream and thresh about but your cries are completely silenced by the water suffocating you. Your attempts to break free are fruitless. His fist is clenching your hair and it burns like hell but the pain in your burning lungs overshadows everything else. You’re trying to free yourself from his hold, to kick him and push him away but his beastly strength doesn’t let you.

You’re about to black out when he lifts your head by your hair and your mouth finally takes a life-giving breath. You cough and cry trying to get as much oxygen as he lets you and exclaim, “No, no, stop it, please!”

He growls and pulls your torso up and flush against his chest. You’re covered in water droplets, already cold and shivering but for another reason. The stranger might kill you and the thought makes you tremble and beg for mercy,

“I’ll give you everything, I’ll do anything! Pls let me go..”

You’re crying and screaming but he’s deaf to your pleas. You feel his breath on your cheek and he bites it. He doesn’t break the skin but the pain makes you wail. The man shakes your body and laughs, “Silly girl, the louder you scream the harder it’ll make me.”

Your back is pressed to his broad chest and your whole body is shaking as if electricity is going through every part of you.

“I saw you touching yourself, little slut. Made me hard like a rock,” he bucks his hips into your ass and you feel his clothed hard-on. “I coulda just taken what I wanted and left. But now I think I’ll take this pussy too.” He slaps your mound a little harder than a lover would and a whine escapes your lips.

“Started without me?”

You feel even more terrified if it’s even possible when you hear another voice.

“Nah, just gave this pretty slut a wash. Don't wanna touch her husband's crusted cum on her. We gonna leave our own.”

“Right, brother.” They laugh and you feel you might be sick. It can’t be happening. The sobs are shaking your body as you’re trying to turn your head to the side so you could see the new man.

“Please, let me go,” you plead, hoping the other intruder will be kinder to you.

The first attacker yanks your whole body to the side, turning you away from the tub so you’d face the second man. Your tears make his image blurry, resembling a dark shadow. He’s wearing all black and his face is hidden behind a balaclava. He sounds younger than the other one and is not as huge but he’s still bigger than you. He comes up close, takes your wet cheeks between his gloved fingers and pushes making your lips pout. You mewl and they both laugh. His other hand darts to your mound and he grabs your pussy squeezing your flesh with his harsh fingers. You whine and he looks at the other attacker over your shoulder, “She’s so soft and pretty. Can’t wait to use her.”

His accomplice hums in agreement, pressing his covered chin to your cheek and rubbing your delicate skin with the material of his mask, “need her to open the safe first.”

The second man agrees and steps out of the way while you’re being pushed to the door and into the master bedroom. You walk clumsily but as soon as you reach the doorframe you push all your weight to the side making your capturer crash into the door. Startled for a moment he eases his grip on you and you launch forward. The wetness of your body helps you to slip out of his hands and you’re running out of the room and along the hall crying for help as loud as you can.

Thoughts rush through your head as you realize that you need to get out of the house. So you race to the stairs but as soon as you reach them a hand grips your hair and pulls you back. It hurts and you try to break free but the man overpowers you with ease, drops his weight on you and you both fall on the floor. He grumbles and you realize that it’s the second intruder. He grabs your hands and ties your wrists behind your back with a rope.

“Stop, please, no!” you cry out, feeling pain in your scalp and body but the ache is dull as all your senses are fully focused on survival.

“Slippery bitch!” the younger man spits out and having restrained your hands, sits up on the back of your thighs panting heavily. He slaps your naked asscheek and you sob, tears soaking the carpet.

You hear steps and the first man comes up to you from the side. “Nice try, little slut,” he mocks you, pushing your shoulder lightly with the tip of his black boot. He orders to take you back to the bedroom.

You’re sitting on the floor in front of the safe in your walk-in closet. The men are towering behind you not afraid of you running away as your hands are securely restrained and you look and feel exhausted from the nerves and your attempts to break free.

The bigger man crouches next to you and his gloved fingers grasp your hair. Like a puppeteer he turns your head to him and rumbles, “Password, sweetie.” You begin saying the numbers immediately not seeing the point in protecting your valuables while your life is at stake.

“Please, take everything, just let me go… please,” you beg with a shaking voice but a carnal grin flashes in the opening of his balaclava and panic grips your heart.

“Open your pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he coos at you with a fake care as the other man chuckles and you see him bringing a knife to your face. It looks like a switchblade. You start pleading and crying again, horrifying images flooding your mind. Not waiting for you to calm down, the intruder turns the knife handle up and inserts it into your mouth.

“Hold it,” he orders, “just imagine it’s your husband’s dick. Bite it real hard, I’m sure you’re mad at him for leaving you alone now.”

He pushes your head down to the safe and you bend over awkwardly trying not to fall, knife between your teeth.

You hear the other man’s voice, “Press the buttons for us, princess, come on,” his voice is soft but it makes your hair stand up.

You sob and the knife nearly falls out of your mouth but you clench your teeth around it more tightly and bring the blade to the buttons.

“That’s our girl,” the first man mumbles, as his hand in your hair keeps you from falling.

You push the numbers with the tip of the blade and hear beeps. “You have a nice ass, baby,” the second intruder comments, apparently ogling your butt while you are bending over. You hear a click of the safe door and they push you out of the way hurrying to get their hands on the things they came for. At least you hope they came just for that.

You look up at them, wondering what they're going to do to you. You still hope they will leave, now that you've opened the safe for them.

You try not to panic and focus on your breathing. You can see their dark eyes through the openings of their balaclavas. They look at each other communicating without a word, and then the bigger one turns to you.

“How much time do we have?” he asks his accomplice, his gaze locked with yours.

“Half an hour, easy,” the other man replies.

Your hairs stand up and your breath catches in your throat. You feel that your brain is trying to convince itself that they are not going to hurt you more. You don't dare imagine what they are capable of.

The younger one grabs you by both arms and forces you to get up.

“We have plenty of time to have a little fun,” he laughs, dragging you towards your bedroom. You try to resist, but in vain. He turns around and pushes you against the wall. His hand grips your throat and you watch him in fear as he removes his balaclava. He has brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, and a mustache. The fact that he is uncovering his face terrifies you. These men don't care if you can describe them, and you wonder if you will make it out alive.

He brings his face closer to yours, to the point where your noses could touch, and leans his pelvis against you. You feel his hard cock on your lower belly and the last hope your mind was trying to cling to is now gone. He tilts his head to the side and smiles, looking at you. You hear his brother laugh behind him and say “you’re a fuckin’ psycho, Tommy.” He takes off his balaclava as well, and his face appears behind his brother. He has short, brown hair, a light beard and a mustache. You try to memorize their faces, in case you can describe them to the police. Later.

That “later” fades away when Tommy moves closer to your cheek and slowly licks his way to your cheekbone. You start shaking like a leaf and he laughs, unties your hands behind your back, and grabs your arm before tugging you after him. He pushes you onto the bed, where you fall on your back.

You try to get up, but the other man pulls a gun out of the back of his jeans and points it at you,

“You’re starting to piss me off, sweetheart, so I’m gonna set things straight. We'll fuck you and then we’ll leave. If you struggle, you'll turn us on even more. If you scream, we'll fuck you harder. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy voice, his words stop you and you lie down again. He hands the gun to Tommy and says “I’m gonna need my hands.”

You widen your eyes when he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock. Thick. Much too big.

“Oh, sweetie, judging by your reaction, your husband has a small dick,” he says, laughing again. His brother chuckles too and adds, “She’s so not ready for our cocks, Joel.” He grabs your legs and pulls them towards him to lay you down.

Joel approaches the bed, slowly jerking off, and kneels on the bed at your side, before bringing his cock closer to your face, “Now you’re gonna suck me off, sweetheart. And after any dumb move from you, my brother will blow your brains out, ok?”

You nod. Your only hope now is that they end this quickly. You try to put aside another source of anxiety that is gnawing at your heart - their uncovered faces.

Joel taps your face with his cock twice before you part your lips slightly, and he says "Sweetie, open wide, or it ain’t gonna fit". You hold back the tears that are stinging your eyes, and you open your mouth wider. He slides the tip into your mouth, and you round your lips around it. He doesn't wait any longer, and sinks into you, holding your head in his hands.

He stops halfway down his member, then pulls back, before thrusting in with one stroke, making you choke. You hear Tommy laugh and can no longer hold back your tears as panic overtakes you and amplifies your suffocation. “Stop it, Tommy, you’re scaring the little thing!” Joel says with a chuckle.

He pulls out of your mouth and releases your head, and you feel Tommy get between your thighs. You murmur, “No, please”, but Joel adds, “Come on, sweetheart, my little brother needs to get his dick wet, too, right?”

Tommy rubs his cock against your folds, then against your clit. His tip rubs it several times, and to your horror you feel your pussy getting wet.

“Little slut is so wet for our cocks, Joel, can you believe it?”

“They always are. All fuckin’ whores.”

Tommy pulls back a little and looks at his cock, before slowly pushing it into your pussy, and growls "Fuck...she's tight, man." You wince as you feel your folds parted.

“Point your gun at her. I’m gonna fuck her throat, I don’t want her to do anything stupid.”

Tommy cocks his gun at your head and starts fucking you, thrusting deeper. Joel grabs your temples with his hands again, and his erect cock sinks in your mouth. He grips your head tighter, and quickly fucks your mouth, grunting. Your saliva pools against his member, and he is thrusting deeper and deeper, at the same pace as his brother is fucking your pussy. His cock hits the back of your throat, and he suddenly pauses, holding your nose pressed against his pubes.

“Don’t move, sweetie.”

You try to calm down, your mind in shock at what’s happening to you. In your home, where you should be safe. He finally pulls away, before thrusting in again, yet not going all the way to your throat.

“You’re taking us good, baby”, Tommy says, leaning over you and pressing his nose to your neck, the gun against your temple.

Still fucking your mouth, Joel tells his brother,“Stretch her with the gun. The handle. Let’s see if her little pussy can take it. Afraid I’ll split her in two with my cock.”

You want to scream, your mouth full of Joel’s cock, but only a vague moan leaves your mouth.

“And I’m the psycho?” Tommy laughs, pulling out and sitting up.

Joel pulls out too, and moves away from you with his hard cock in his hand, watching Tommy position the handle of the gun at your entrance with one gloved hand, and pressing your stomach with the other to hold you against the bed. He pushes gently and you cry out, “No, please stop, it won’t fit!”

“We’ll make it fit. You’re wet enough to take it.”

He keeps pushing, and the tip of the handle sinks into you.

“Say ‘thank you’ to Tommy for stretching you, sweetheart.”

You feel like you're going to pass out. You look at their faces, their eyes fixed on your pussy dilated around the gun, and you try to relax. A part of you wants to rebel and fight, but the other one takes over, knowing that you have no way out of this.

“Look, Joel, she's dripping. Good that we’re using the handle, she woulda ruined the barrel with her wetness,” Tommy comments and they laugh again degrading you.

“Ok, pull it out. She’s ready. Gonna fuck her now”, Joel says and adds, “Get on all fours.”

You don't move, too scared at the idea of what happens next, and Tommy points the muzzle at your forehead. Your tears start to fall again and you finally turn around, exposing your ass to Joel and standing on your hands and knees on the bed.

“I forgot that you had such a nice ass, sweetie!”

“Please… don’t do that”, you whimper with sobs in your voice.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna damage your ass. Don’t have the time for that. There’s one more thing we’ll have to do, after we’re done with you.”

You don't have time to ask or even think what they want to do next, Tommy is already on the bed pressing his cock against your mouth. Joel grabs your hips with his hands, and thrusts into you in one swift move. You suffocate under the intrusion, and Tommy pushes his cock in between your lips.

“Come on, baby, be a good girl and let me fuck this wet hole of yours,” Joel mumbles opening your thighs wider and begins fucking you with quick thrusts. Then he slides his hand down to your clit and you try to shake your head, but Tommy holds you tight, his cock buried in your mouth.

Joel coos at you, “Come on, sweetheart, wanna feel your pussy squeeze my big cock.”

You try to resist, but his finger slides against your clit perfectly. You tell yourself that it will end faster if he gets what he wants and let your mind retreat, and the emotions in your body take over. You feel your orgasm building, and your pussy begins to contract.

“Tommy… little slut is clenching my dick so hard, and she hasn't come yet”, he groans with a smile.

Tommy pulls your hair with his hand, and pushes his cock into your mouth one more time, before pulling out, gloved fingers clasped around his shaft. You moan, and cum on Joel's cock while your eyes roll back and your legs are shaking. He’s groaning, feeling your spasms around his cock, “Fuckin’ hell, little slut must be so bored with her husband.”

Tommy’s carnal gaze is sliding down your body and he looks manic when he lifts his eyes at Joel and asks with a smile, “wanna play like that time?”

Joel looks back at him, pulls out of your crying pussy and chuckles, “you’re fucking crazy, brother.”

“Why?” Tommy mumbles running his gloved hand through your messy hair. He looks right into your eyes drinking your fear and his cock twitches.

“The last one wanted it. This one looks too gentle.”

Tommy leans over you bringing his face so close you smell cigarettes on his breath and tells Joel,

“She might surprise us, brother. I’m sure she’s freaky. Aren’t you, princess?”

He grabs your pussy and you gasp. Your gaze darts to Joel who watches his brother’s fingers massage your wet folds and begins stroking his cock,

“Fuck, yeah, let’s do it. If she chokes my cock till I come… might spare her.”

You hear his words and sobs are about to break out of your chest but Tommy senses it and places his free hand over your mouth, “we’ll play one game, princess and then we’ll leave, deal?”

He’s waiting for the answer but you can’t agree without knowing what this psycho means so you just stare at him with fearful eyes.

He straightens up glancing at his brother, “Fuck, I forgot I don’t have to ask cos I have this,” he takes out a gun from his waistband and waves it at you.

“On your mark, brother,” he says to Joel and the bigger man grabs your legs and pulls you roughly on the bed towards him. His cock pushes between your folds and you moan.

“See! The whore loves it!” Tommy points at your with his gun, triumphant smile on his face and you feel a tip of a cock thrust into you. Joel’s huge member parts your folds again and you plead for him to stop but he doesn’t hold back as its head jams right into your cervix after a couple of deep and hard thrusts.

“Hey, hey, Joel. You’ll come too soon! Where’s fun in that?”

Joel pauses his movements deep inside you and you look at the men with confusion and fear twisting your face. What game are they going to play with you? And are you going to survive it?”

“Ready?” Tommy asks and you catch your breath waiting for the worst. Then Tommy leans down a little and slaps your pussy with his leathered palm, just a few inches from the place where his brother’s cock is buried deep inside you. You cry out when the pain catches you off guard and to your horror realize that it’s quickly mixing with pressure. Joel grunts shutting his eyes for a second and then opens them to glance at his brother, “Fuck, you were right. She’s squeezing me real good. Fucking chocking my cock, little slut.”

You sense your walls contract around his girthy length and you hate yourself for it. “That’s just one”, Tommy warns as he lands another blow to your tortured pussy. “Two,” he counts and you mewl, your eyes rolling back while Joel’s groaning through his teeth and plants his hands on the bed at your sides.

“What is it, brother? She’s so pretty and sweet that you’re about to come already?” Tommy mocks the man and Joel looks up at him with a pained and angry expression.

Tommy backs off with his hands in the air still chuckling and then comes back to slap your clit again.

As soon as he says, “Three” you feel warmth filling your pussy up as Joel is coming with a long growl grasping your hips leaving white marks on your soft skin. He starts thrusting into your core again pumping you full of his spend and you feel sick when your core is tightening. You won’t come. You won’t give it to him.

“Holy fuck, princess, you have a magic pussy. To make my bro bust a nut just after three slaps!” He laughs and takes your head in his hands kissing your mouth. First as a joke he pecks your lips but after parting from you for a second he comes back for more as his tongue pushes between your lips. You freeze when he’s stealing another part of you, licking into your mouth while his brother prolongs his climax with short thrusts into your swollen pussy.

Finally Tommy parts from you and straightens up grabbing his cock. “Fuck, Joel, my turn. This bitch is so hot.” He looks into your eyes while Joel pulls out his semi hard cock, and you feel his cum leaking out of your stretched hole and slide down to your asshole.

The men switch positions and now Joel is standing over you while Tommy gets on the bed between your shaking legs. He sits on his heels staring at your hole and says in a calm but stern voice, “Squeeze it out, princess.” It’s so sick that you’re blinking at him until suddenly he directs his gun at you and repeats his command a little louder, “I said squeeze out the cum, little slut!”

You swallow loudly and tighten your muscles. With a satisfied grin he’s watching a string of milky liquid flow out of your hole.

“We need to hurry up,” Joel rumbles, zipping up his pants.

“Yeah, yeah…” Tommy replies, seemingly deaf to his brother’s words, his gaze fully focused on your pussy.

Still having his gloves on he brings his hand to your folds and pushes two fingers into your hole. Then he takes them out and climbs over your body. Without a word be pushes the leathered digits between your lips,with an order, “Clean them up, princess.” You do as you’re told, tasting Joel’s bitter cum and leather on your tongue.

“Good slut,” Tommy half praises half degrades you watching your tongue swirl around his covered digits.

“Fuck, Tommy, come on!” Joel hurries up his brother and the younger man finally listens, gets between your thighs and pushes his cock in with a growl. He slides in easily, your pussy wet with Joel’s cum and stretched out well.

“Come on, baby, let’s win this thing,” he says and you mewl, knowing what’s coming next.

Joel’s hand hits your pussy harsher than Tommy’s and you jolt from the pain. The younger man is hissing through his teeth looking at your swollen reddish folds. He shivers and grips your hips tighter. “Fuck you’re choking my cock, baby!”

Joel doesn’t wait long to stroke you again and a tear slides down the side of your face. Tommy shuts his eyes tilting his head back and as another slap lands on your poor clit you moan and squeeze Tommy’s cock so well it pushes him over. His balls tighten and he shoots his cum deep inside your core. His seed mixes with Joel’s and it’s too much cum for your poor pussy so it leaks out of you in globs pushed out by Tommy’s cock still moving inside you. When he stills panting heavily, he pulls out and announces, “Three-three, bro! Guess we’re both suckers for her pussy”. He tucks his cock away hastily and when he’s ready he leans over your swollen mound and gives it a peck, whispering, “killer-pussy!”

Joel is already gathering the things they’re taking with them and you’re lying not moving a muscle wishing for them to forget about you and leave. But soon Joel comes up to the bed and you see a phone in his hand. He reaches to your face and you flinch, “Shhh, sweetheart, it’s gonna be over soon. Just wanna take a few photos, for the memories,” he mocks you with a smirk trying to fix your messy hair and wiping your face with his sleeve.

“Give me, I’ll do it,” Tommy appears from behind Joel taking the phone from his brother. He directs the camera at your face and commands, “Smile, princess, show us how happy you’re that we’re leaving.”

You smile weakly and he takes a few photos of you splayed on the bed, marks covering your skin. He makes you open your legs and takes a photo of your pussy leaking out their spend on your marital bed. Then he’s checking the photos and mumbles talking to you ,

“You’re a great fuck, princess. Can’t believe your asshole of a husband gets to have you whenever he wants…he’ll have a hard time filling your pussy after we stretched you that good,” he laughs and adds, “we might come back for more one day.” He says it in a seemingly benign manner looking into your eyes but you see a threat rooted in his words. “Keep your little mouth shut and forget our faces or these pictures of you will be everywhere. Surely your hubby will have to say bye-bye to his political career. You got me?” His gaze is serious and intent and you nod hastily.

Your heart is beating fast when you see Tommy take black bags from Joel. Will they keep their promise and leave you alive?

“Take care, princess,” you hear Tommy’s voice as he puts his balaclava back on and walks out of the door. Joel doesn’t say anything. With his face already covered he heads to the door, stops right outside and turns his head to you. He brings his gloved finger to his lips in a silent sign, and then leaves as quietly as he came.

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!❤️

[tommykinard6]

This is me putting out a desperate plea for someone to write BuckTommy mpreg with Tommy instead.

Please. I’m begging someone to break up the monotony of my dash. I don’t have time to do it all myself.

[jobean12-blog]

Everything

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (No!outbreak!Joel- friends to lovers)

Word Count: 4,359

Summary: You live next door to Tommy and fall into an easy friendship with him but then you meet his older brother and fall into a lot more than friendship but will Joel's struggles stand in the way...

Author's Note: This is for @the-slumberparty February Sleepover Challenge and Eight Types of Love. I went with Philia (deep friendship) again because I just love the whole friends to lovers trope and wanted to do something with Joel. This has a little of better off friends (in Joel's mind) too. Thank you loves for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of tension, flirting, some light angst mixed in because Joel has his head up his ass, softness, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), p in v, pet name, a curse or ten, Joel gets dom a bit- think that's it lol

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You begin to wake to the quiet sound of Joel murmuring in his sleep, the room dark other than the flickering television. His arm is heavy across your waist and your back is pressed to his chest. The warmth from his body has seeped into every part of you and you can’t help but snuggle into him.

He whispers your name and his arm tightens at your waist.

“Joel?”

With no verbal answer he starts to slowly roll his hips, introducing you to the hardness between his legs.

You gasp and meet his movements. He groans and his hand starts to move, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt and slipping under.

His hand continues to explore your skin as he mumbles sleepy words but you can only catch some broken phrases.

“…a dream…you’re too good…but it’s all I…”

His words trail off but his fingers keep wandering and when his hand slips down the front of your leggings you grab his wrist and push it lower, wiggling your ass against him with a desperate plea.

“Please Joel. More.”

He tugs you closer, murmuring in your ear with another roll of his hips. You moan out his name and he suddenly goes still, his panting breaths echoing in the quiet.

“What the hell?” he says into your neck.

Everything comes back to him in a rush. The movie, you falling asleep first in his arms and then his own eyes closing as he gave in to sleep. And now he’s woken up with his hand halfway down your pants and his arousal digging into your ass.

But there was more. Your whispered pleas, his name on your lips...had he imagined it all?

His eyes widen and he lunges up from the couch, away from you.

“Fuck darlin.’ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He rakes both his hands down his face.

“No. I’m fine,” you assure him. “It’s ok.”

“Were you even awake? Did you ask me to stop at any moment? Tell me the truth.”

He waits with a pained expression after his rush of questions, worry etched across his handsome face as he holds his breath.

“I was awake enough and I knew you were dreaming but I didn’t want you to stop.”

He swallows the growl that tries to burst from his throat.

“Why didn’t you want me to stop?”

He can’t help his question, can’t let his curiosity go unchecked even though he knows you’re too good. Too good to be true. Too good for him. That you deserved better.

You don’t hesitate when you answer. “It felt good, so good. I love having your hands on me.”

It’s too much, your confessed words already branding themselves onto his skin and as much as he wants to pin you back down to the couch and finish what he’s started he takes another step back.

“I thought I was dreaming…are you sure you’re ok?”

“I am and I should be apologizing.”

His hand runs forcefully through his sleep mussed hair and let’s out a quiet curse.

“We were both half asleep. It was nothing.”

He says the words without meeting your eyes and you withdraw with a sharp intake of breath and when he finally lifts his gaze to yours he nearly crumbles to his knees to beg for your forgiveness.

“Oh...I guess you’re right.”

You glance down at your hands and blink away the wetness in your eyes.

“I’m a guy darlin’…I fell asleep with you pressed against me, and I reacted. I’m sorry if you thought…”

“No. I didn’t think,” you whisper, standing and wrapping your arms around your middle like a shield.

“It’s late,” you say as you back away from him.

“Right,” he answers, having to hold himself back from reaching out for you.

He swallows hard before walking toward the door and slipping his boots on. He stares at you in silence before he quietly says goodbye.

You nod and wait for the door to close before collapsing back onto the couch.

Your first knock goes unanswered and when you catch the buzz of a saw on the other side of the door you knock harder. The sound stops and is replaced with the heavy footfalls of his boots.

He opens the door to reveal you standing on the other side in your pretty dress, cookie box in hand.

Once his initial shock wears off it’s replaced with the familiar intensity he holds only for you, as if you’re all he sees and it’s everything.

That’s why when he shouts, “what are you doing here?” you wince slightly.

“I’m here because I missed my friend,” you state. “And I brought you cookies.”

He wants to tell you he’s missed you for every second of the last three days. Wants to wrap you in his arms and keep you there forever but he remains silent.

When he doesn’t say anything you continue on. “Are you going to let me in?”

“If you don’t mind the mess, go right ahead,” he says, stepping back.

“I don’t,” you murmur and brush past him.

He sucks in a quiet breath when your scent wafts up to his nose and closes his eyes for a moment to savor it.

“Watch the tools,” he says. “You’ll get hurt.”

“It looks great already,” you tell him as you swivel on your feet, careful to mind any sharp tools.

Joel nods before rubbing the back of his neck. “I can show you around, since you’re here.”

He holds his hand out toward the steps and you start to walk up them. He keeps his eyes focused on your feet, willing them not to travel any higher to peek under the hem of your dress.

You walk from room to room as he explains what he’s been doing to the new house he’s renovating, your brightness emanating into every space and filling it up with new light.

“Why aren’t you at work?” he asks, his voice tight.

His foot kicks out at some saw dust, sending it dancing into the air, illuminated by the streaks of sunlight filtering in through the window.

“I took a long lunch,” you explain. “I have to go back soon, I just…”

“What? You just what darlin’?” he asks, hating his hard tone.

You place the cookies down on the work bench in the room and look him in the eyes.

“I hate that we haven’t spoken in three days. I hate not knowing if you’ll want to hang out with me again. I know you’re unhappy about what almost happened the other night, but I think you’re taking this a bit too far.”

He takes a step closer to you, keeping his hands on his hips, knowing if he reaches out to touch you, he won’t be able to stop.

“Back up darlin.’ Did I hear you say I was ‘unhappy’ about what happened?”

“Yeah…I know it was my fault. You left and I…”

“You did nothing wrong,” he states, moving closer. “Nothing at all. Are we clear?”

Your back presses to the wall when he’s close enough for you to touch and your brow furrows.

“But you were upset and I…”

His palms land flat above your head on either side of the wall, his teeth griding in his jaw.

“I’m warning you darlin’.”

Several seconds pass where your gaze lingers on his face before your lashes lower and fall between his legs to his obvious arousal pressed against the tight fabric of his jeans.

Your breathing quickens and you lick your lips, parting them to speak but your words and any coherent thoughts are lost when he kisses you.

You melt against him, pliant and willing and he moans into your mouth, crowding you against the wall until there isn’t an inch of space left between you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and takes a deeper taste before he feels your hands flatten along his chest with a gentle pat.

Breathe.

He breaks away with a groan and scans your face for any signs of regret but instead sees swollen lips and bright eyes and it’s everything…it’s achingly beautiful. He sears the image into his brain forever.

With a sigh he leans forward and rests his forehead to yours, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You do want me.”

Your words are husky and when he meets your eyes again, the hunger burning brightly in his morphs your expression into one of relief.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, brushing his nose along yours, “want isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel…for what I want to do to you.”

You breathe out his name, grabbing fistfuls of his soft tee shirt when you ask, “which is?”

His lips meet the shell of your ear and the truth comes out in a rush of warm breath that makes you shiver.

“I want to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk straight the next day.”

The evidence of his words pulses against your stomach and it gives you courage to ask your next question.

“Do you want to fuck me against the wall…or spread me out on your bed Joel?”

He hisses out a curse and goes still before pinning you with a glare.

“You should be telling me to fuck off darlin.’ I walked out on you after I gave you some bullshit excuse…you better tell me, or else…”

“Or else what? What are you going to do?”

His fist lands on the wall with a heavy thump. “You’re getting yourself into trouble here angel.”

Your eyes light up at the endearment and he takes note.

“What does that mean? Trouble? Are you all talk or are you going to show me…”

Your words end on a gasp when he drops his hand from the wall and reaches under your dress, the feel of his big, work-roughened fingers on your skin making you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

You reach up and rake your fingers through his tussled hair, feeling empowered by the shiver than passes through him, his eyes closing.

“Joel. Please.”

His eyes pop open and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your heard with one hand while the other remains hidden beneath your dress, teasing the waistband of your panties.

“You deserve better,” he rasps.

You shake your head side to side, moving closer until your lips are a breath apart.

“No one treats me better than you.”

It’s a whisper against his mouth and when you see the fierce look in his eyes you expect him to pin you against the wall again but it never happens.

He falls to his knees and lifts your dress, burying his face between your thighs. The hair lining his cheeks and jaw rub roughly against your skin and his calloused hands yank your hips closer.

“Is this what you want angel?” he asks. “Want me on my knees for you, begging to taste you.”

Your fingers land in his hair again and you give it a sharp tug.

“Fuck,” he growls before moving your wet panties to the side and sliding his tongue straight through you.

Your legs shake and your head rolls along the wall.

“Joel,” you whine.

When he flicks your clit with his tongue it sends you reeling, rolling your hips into his face as he repeats the motion over and over then sucks it into his mouth. You’re so close to the edge but when he abruptly stands and cages you against the wall again, you let out a whine of frustration.

His hand slips down your body and he teases you before sliding a thick finger inside, his head falling to your neck with a muffled curse. You fumble with his jeans, managing to pop open the button and pull the zipper down far enough to press your palm against his hardness.

His hips buck into your hand and you feel him thicken, your breathing heavy when you ask for “more.”

With a groan of satisfaction he pushes a second finger inside you, your name coming out in a strangled hiss when you tighten around them.

Without warning his hips stutter and you feel warm moisture coat your hand. You keep one hand locked on his broad shoulder, still feeling unsteady on your own feet. His fingers are still buried deep inside you when his lips press softly to your neck and trace a path to your mouth.

When his eyes finally meet your own he slowly pumps his fingers, drawing small gasps from your parted lips.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous angel. I can’t help myself…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He pulls his fingers free and you whine at the loss, earning a teeth grinding warning from him.

“I’m not sorry,” you say and steady your gaze.

“Oh yeah,” he answers, his body still caging you in. “It’s not good enough. I’m not…”

“Don’t say it.”

You cover his mouth with your hand. “Don’t tell me what’s good enough for me. I know what I want.”

“Please angel,” he says, his voiced laced with pain. “I can’t stay away.”

“And I don’t want you to.”

The breath rushes out of him and he sags against you.

Sensing he needs some space and knowing you are running out of time you rise up to kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on his skin and breathing him in.

“I’m going to clean up and then go back to work…but I’ll see you this weekend.”

His fingers ghost along your arm and trace the curve of your shoulder before he takes your chin in his hand and tugs your mouth to his for one last kiss.

Lost in thought, Joel takes no notice of Tommy as he walks up to the truck window, the knock making him jump in the seat.

“What the fuck?” Joel mutters when he turns to see Tommy staring back at him through the glass, looking amused.

Joel pushes the door open and steps out, walking around Tommy without a hello.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Joel asks when he reaches the back of the truck and opens the hatch.

“Hello to you too brother,” Tommy teases. “And you never answered your phone. I need to know if you can pick up beers for the party this weekend.”

“Are you really having a birthday party? Aren’t you too damn old for this shit?” Joel says with a shake of his head.

The corner of Tommy’s mouth lifts. “Listen, just because you’re a grumpy stick in the mud doesn’t mean the rest of us need to be. I feel like celebratin’.”

“What were you thinking about in there anyway?” Tommy asks. “You looked like you were on another planet.”

When Joel doesn’t answer Tommy just smiles.

“She’ll be there of course.”

Joel remains quiet and Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, brother, but if my girl was going to be at a party, looking damn fine, I’d be there. And early.”

“My girl,” Joel muses as the rubs his scruffy jaw. “I’ll be there.”  

“And don’t forget the beer!” Tommy shouts as he walks back to his own truck and gets in.

You check the time and see that it’s still early before you have to get dressed so you walk over to the window and peek at Tommy’s house. Your thoughts wander to Joel and you wonder if he’s already at Tommy’s. As if you’ve summoned him he appears at the front door with a black garbage bag and starts walking toward the side of the house.

He’s wearing a button-down shirt instead of a tee shirt and it’s tucked into his tight-fitting jeans. It makes your breath catch in your throat and without thinking you rush to your kitchen garbage and pull out the half full bag, tying it quickly before tightening the tie of your robe.

You open your front door and keep your eyes forward as you walk toward the pails. The sound of a loud metal bang drags your attention toward Tommy’s house where you find Joel standing, hands on hips and eyes on you.

You throw him a wave before dropping the small bag of garbage into your pail and starting back toward the house. He moves in your direction, gently grabbing your wrist before you reach the door.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

“Hey darlin’,” he murmurs, not letting go of you. “You wearin’ that tonight?”

At the teasing tone of his voice you feel relieved and smile, glad things aren’t entirely awkward since the last two times you were together.

“It’s comfortable,” you say. “But no.”

“But you look good,” you tell him. “Really good.”

He rubs the back of his neck and then using the hand still wrapped around your wrist, tugs you into his chest.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

You shift closer and he asks, “do you usually walk around in nothin’ but your robe?”

“Who said I had nothing on under here?”

He keeps his eyes on yours but drops a hand to the tie at your waist, giving it a light pull.

“Did you ever eat those cookies I made you?”

Your question catches him off guard and he barely has time to register his surprise before you continue.

“Or did you have enough dessert?”

You raise an eyebrow at the pained expression on his face and when he closes his eyes and groans you lift your hands to the collar of his shirt and toy with the fabric, pulling him closer.

“You’re not holding back at all are you?” he asks. “Not that I’ll ever forget how you taste.”

“Why should I?” you counter. “I know what I want.”

“Then say what you want, angel.”

You visibly preen at the nickname, wetting your lips before you speak and close the small space between you.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel.”

“Damn it,” he breathes, twisting the tie of your robe in his fist.

His mind instantly fills with filthy thoughts but he doesn’t respond with more than his initial curse.

“Say something,” you whisper. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“No you don’t,” he replies.

“Yes,” you counter with firmness. “I do.”

“I told you…one taste…it’ll never be enough. I want you every way I can have you. Every way you’ll let me. I want to do everything to you.”

You sway into him and your lips brush his ear just as you’re about to speak.

“JOEL!” Tommy yells. “Where the hell are you?”

Your eyes go wide as the haze lifts and you tuck your face into his neck, murmuring something incoherent. He echoes your frustration with a sigh.

“What time will you be ready?” he asks, his grip on you still tight.

“Just need another twenty minutes.”

“Good, I’ll pick you up then.”

You reluctantly pull away from him and give him a wry smile. “You’re going to pick me up? At my house? Right here?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “Why not?”

You open your mouth but he presses his finger against your lips. “Just let me come pick ya up darlin.’ Please.”

“Ok,” you breathe out before taking a step back.

“See you in twenty,” he says and watches until you’re safely inside.

Joel stands along the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he scans the room, avoiding Tommy’s prying eyes, but it’s to no avail.

“Don’t look so bored big brother,” Tommy drawls. “I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

Joel checks his watch. “Actually, she will be because I’m going to get her right now.”

“You’re picking her up? But she lives next door!”

Joel ignores Tommy’s comment and pushes off the wall with a huff.

When he reaches your door he knocks and hears your “come in.” He walks in and quietly closes the door, his eyes instantly landing on your couch as he relives the memory of the other night for the millionth time.

“I’ll be right there,” you shout from down the hall.

He rubs his palms on his jeans and tries to look relaxed even though it feels like he’s about to combust.

You walk into the living room and smile. “Ready.”

He stands up straight, hands clenched at his sides as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe and his voice a rasp when he says, “you’re not wearing that angel. You’ll have to kill me first.”

You look down at your form fitting dress with a frown then lift your eyes and chin. “Oh yes, I am!”

“The fuck you are.”

Your irritation wars with the blaze of heat trailing across your skin but you manage to walk forward toward the door and past him.

But his arm shoots out and grabs you around the waist, spinning you until you’re plastered against his hard chest.

“Fuck angel.” His hands flex on your hips. “I don’t think you understand. If anyone sees you in this…anyone but me…”

“It’s just a dress,” you say. “And I like it.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please. Go change.”

You soften at his gentle pleas but you can’t help to push a little harder, knowing he’s about to give in.

“Make me.”

His eyes darken with warning and you lean closer, invitingly.

“You want to show off his gorgeous body,” he murmurs, slipping his fingers under the thin strap at your shoulder. “You’ll show it off to me.”

“Joel…”

He pushes the strap until it slides down then drags his rough fingertips along the neckline of the dress, stopping at the swell of your breasts.

“You were just going to walk into that party wearing this…what do you expect me to do?”

“I told you what I want you to do Joel.”

“Say it again,” he growls.

“I want you to fuck me.”

You enunciate all the right words even though your breathless by the end of it.

His fingers continue to your other shoulder, dropping the strap there and circling your soft skin.

“You’re a tease. You’re driving me insane.”

“I’m not the tease,” you shoot back. “You’re a tease and I’m tired of it. Either you want me. Or you don’t.”

He lifts his hands and cradles your face between them, brushing his thumbs across your skin.

“All I want is you angel. I want to be yours. I want to know all your favorite things, in and out of bed. All of it. I want it to be mine.”

With a concentrated effort you remind yourself to take a breath, seeing that means every word of it, his expression daring you to contradict him.

You reach out with the intention of unzipping his pants, but he catches your wrist. “Not yet angel. If you touch me, I’m going to need to get inside you and I need to taste you again first.”

He walks you backward toward the kitchen table and you collapse back with his gentle push. Your dress is hiked over your hips to reveal your panties and a hungry sound hums in his throat as he takes you in. Slowly he drags the delicate fabric down your legs then stuffs it into the back pocket of his jeans before he spreads you open.

His tongue drags over you teasingly at first until something inside him breaks and costs him his discipline. The calloused hands that hold your thighs apart grow rougher, his throaty growls vibrating right through you as his tongue circles your clit.

Your fingers find purchase in his wild curls and he makes an appreciative noise so you give them a tug.

“So good, Joel. Oh my god.”

Already your muscles start to tighten and you know it won’t be much longer. He slides two thick fingers inside you, sucking your clit into his mouth at the same time and it sends you tumbling over the edge with a cry of his name.

His hands are soft and delicate as they caress your skin and he takes you in his arms, sitting you upright. You hold on to the edge of the table and watch him as he frees himself from his pants and palms his cock. The sight makes your mouth water and it takes all your restraint not to reach for him.

“Fuck angel,” he murmurs as he slips himself between your legs. “Do you have any idea how you’re looking at me right now?”

“How?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Like you’d beg for it if I asked.”

You work your hips in a slow circle, coating him in your arousal.

“Is that what you want?” you purr.

He groans and grits his teeth.

“Please, Joel. Please.”

“Fuck, stop. I can’t take any more,” he hisses, before he thrusts into you hard.

The sudden, perfect fullness of him makes you whimper and when he starts to move your eyes roll back in your head.

His lips find yours and he swallows every moan of pleasure as each pump of his hips drives you closer to your release. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, begging him for more. Harder. Faster.

He gives you what you want and the pressure that builds inside you is threatening to swallow you whole and when his hand smooths over your thigh and slips between your legs, pressing right where you need it, you lose control.

His fingers dig into your skin, hard, as you clench around him, hips moving so fast they start to stutter.

“So good, angel. You feel so fucking perfect.”

You feel him thicken before his warmth fills you up and he chants your name in a breathless whisper. He falls against you, cradling you in his arms and tracing the line of your neck with his lips.

You tremble in his embrace as your hands dip inside the open buttons of his shirt to feel more of him. He whispers your name, his mouth moving along your skin, hot and wet.

“No one else does this to me angel. I already want you again. Fuck.”

@lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Uptown Girl (Part Eight)

Summary: After your Grandmothers intervention, Tommy learns the horrible mistake he's made. Will he be able to get to you in time before you commit your life to the man who had used you as a punching bag throughout the entirety of your relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining.

Word Count: 4061

Authors Note: This chapter was supposed to be the final part of Uptown Girl, but it was starting to get too long with too many scenes. So I decided to split it into two. The final chapter will hopefully be posted next Friday!

"Fuck sake" Tommy grumbled under his breath with a frown of annoyance creased firmly between his brows as he stormed into his office past the preparations for your wedding.

Yes, that's right. Your wedding was to be held at Arrow House. The wedding of the woman who he believed had not only played him, but played with his scorned feelings, he'd carelessly let himself slip into a comfortable normality with.

The finer details for the grand event had been meticulously planned for weeks. And with both your denial and refusal to give any attention to the dreaded event, the arrangements and your fate were quietly arranged without your knowledge by the man who would claim you as his wife in a days' time on the grounds of your childhood home. And as the rightful owner of Arrow House, Tommy was now to host the wedding of the woman he had let himself fall in love with. Fuck.

Slumping into his leather chair with a grunt, his melancholy feelings for the thrilling moments you had spent in your shared home resurfaced as his eyes drifted to the bronze horse you had once fought over. The very same ornament that had cemented the beginnings of your passionate love affair.

"What?" he raised his head from the piling mountain of documents that had forgoed his attention to the sculptured figurine stoically stood judging him.

" Shit..." He leaned back into his chair as the gnawing feeling of guilt that had been eating away at him came out in a rumble of disgruntled huffs and heavy sighs of discontent for having treated you so cruelly the previous night.

His fingers itching to call you, to hear your witty comebacks playfully put a spring back into his famously brooding temperament, he looked longingly at the phone sitting beside him. One call away from hearing your voice, from settling the pining within him he felt having been away from you for the first time since his arrival.

Had he made a mistake? Shit, he didn't even give you a chance to explain, Tommy thought to himself as his fingers clutched around the receiver, lifting it to hear the operators voice echo through the line before abruptly slamming it back down as his hurt feelings rapidly shunned out any attempts to make contact with you.

Tommy Shelby was not to be taken for a fool. And yet here he was, foolishly in love with you.

" You got something to say, eh?" Tommy's furrowed brow returned to the ornament with a mumble at the beady-eyed sculpture, disapprovingly looking back at him.

Quick to silence its inaudible accusations, Tommy turned the weighty ornaments' critical stare away from him. Only to be faced with the unsightly alternative. It's ass. A clear portly reflection of what he himself felt like. A total, utter, ass. Fuck.

"Grannie...please!" Johnathan whimpered in pain as your elderly grandmother dragged him by the ear through the large doors or Arrow House after discovering the details of his devious scheming.

"Silence your sniveling, child" she scolded him, when her eyes turned in horror at the ghastly sight before her.

"Good heavens..." Grannie ignored your brother's continued pleas for mercy to be released from her painful grip tightening around his reddening ear as her eyes scanned the room at the bustling arrangements, and large decorated cake being rolled out on a silver trolley in front of her.

" Hm!" Her angry voice hiccuped with displeasure as her wooden cane of punishment came down onto the head of the figured groom atop of the intricately frosted cake. Further submerging him under layers of sponge until he met his sugary death, before marching off to Tommy's office with Johnathan whimpering in tow.

"Yes?" Tommy's creased brow rose to the sound of a knock at his door. If it was someone asking about wedding plans, they could fuck off, he released a breathy sigh, having had enough of hearing, let alone seeing the arrangements made for the grand day he'd keep himself far away from.

" Dowager" his frown softened into a smile upon seeing your Grannie meekly turn the corner.

" I do apologise for this sudden intrusion, Mr Shelby. But the stupidity of my grandson is something I must urgently address. And I will have you hear from him himself, the pain he has inflicted on his sister, and in turn you with his unforgivable actions" your grandmother spoke with a panging hurt pulling at her heart for the generational damage the male members of her kin had burdened the women of her family with.

" Hello" Johnathan peaked his head around the door with a one-handed greeting, apprehensive to face the gangster he had cheated out of hundreds of pounds.

" Make haste, you blithering idiot" your grandmother pushed her cane into his back towards Tommy stood hunched over his desk. Broad shoulders casting a gloomy shadow of fury around him.

" Johnathan" Tommy's jaw tightened as his fisted hands pressed into the mahogany wood, a stone throw away from wringing the neck of the mumbling man stood before him.

" I'm not quite sure how one goes about saying this..." Johnathan pondered nervously, trying to lessen his involvement before somebody took it upon themselves to remove his bollocks. If not by the gangster that ruled Camden, then the one that was thoroughly pissed off in front of him instead.

" In the simplest of terms, eh Johnathan? Since you find me foolish enough to have given you my money" Tommy scoffed at the nervous smile, flashing across your brother's face. His patience for high society's inability to talk straight, gone the moment he became part of their games.

" I...I have a problem, you see. A gambling one" your brother openly admitted. His unexpected confession, garnering Tommy's brooding temper as he fished for a cigarette to dull the mounting headache your family name and its members inflicted daily, if not hourly on him.

" Go on" Tommy ignited the rolled tobacco between his fingers, blowing a pummel of smoke to the ceiling as he waited on an explanation as to how you was a part of your brother's scheming. The only reason he was still entertaining the blubbering shell of a man stood across from him.

" Y/N my dear sister, has unfortunately taken the brunt of my problems" his head lowered as Tommy cleared his throat at the sound of your name and the fluttering beat caught in his chest.

" Always there to pick up the pieces but never the one to roll the dice, poor ol' girl" the weight of your brothers guilt for the way he had unfairly treated you suddenly pushed down onto his shoulders, burying his body into the floor.

" My sister had nothing to with the money I took from the sum you gave to pay off my debts, Mr Shelby. That was all my doing" he let the last of his confession slip through his sorrow for the events he had caused. For the miscommunication and hurt feelings he had cruelly inflicted between you both.

" My little sister loves me, of that I'm sure. But, she loves you far more. Don't doubt her word, Mr Shelby. She'd never do to you what I have done to her" his eyes cast down as a silence settled over the room, both Tommy and Johnathan stood quietly mulling over their feelings of guilt for the way they had treated the woman that had known nothing but a life of hardships at the hands of men.

" I have taken it upon myself to make sure he pays back every penny, every shilling of what is owed to you" Grannie stepped forward, breaking the silence between them as the last remnants of shame painfully pricked at both of the men's hearts.

" Shoveling coal " she announced his new profession as Johnathan gulped down the remaining minutes of freedom he had left before the many hours of hard labour commenced.

"Nose to the grindstone, isn't that so Mr Shelby?" she said as Tommy absently nodded his head, tired with the discussion of money as his preoccupied thoughts burdened him with a heavy feeling of worry that he wouldn't be able to salvage what was left of your relationship in time.

"23 Maple Cottage, Cheltenham. Before it's too late" Grannie gently urged his distracted mind to the phone sitting beside him before leaving him to settle the rushed mistakes he'd made.

Perching himself on the edge of your father's desk, Tommy released a stifled breath from his lungs as he pinched the throbbing pain sitting between his brows.

" Any ideas how I'm gonna get her back, eh? Tommy looked down at the four-legged statue, hoping the inanimate object that had become his counsel for the most troubling of matters would have the answer.

" Yeh, didn't think so" he huffed at the wordless reply as he stubbed his cigarette into the glass dish beside him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

" Miss Y/L/N" Frances greeted you, surprised to see you stood on the porch of Arrow House as she opened the doors to greet you.

" I just need to retrieve a few things, then I'll be gone" you looked behind her, now suddenly feeling like an outsider as your searched the foyer for any signs of life.

" You're always welcome here, Miss" she sent you an inviting smile as her eyes glossed over with sorrow for the young woman she helped raise and the situation she now found herself in.

" I'm afraid that's no longer the case, Frances" your eyes dragged over the bricks of your childhood home you had been shunned from to your shuffling feet on the gritted ground beneath you.

" Is he here?" you nervously questioned, afraid at any moment you'd face the man responsible for breaking your heart. Responsible for the guilt weighing down your shoulders you had burdened yourself with on behalf of your brother.

" Head buried in paperwork. You'll go unnoticed. Come on, dear" she urged you forward with her hand out for you to take, foregoing the many questions that nagged her thoughts as to what had your and Tommy's growing relationship take a sudden blow.

As you made your way through the foyer of your childhood home, you apprehensively turned your head to your father's former office. Expecting Tommy to be stood there, ready to give you your marching orders with thundering steps and pointing fingers for a second time.

But with the gangster seemingly occupied with the many business matters he'd let lapse during the time you had spent together, you passed the preparations for your wedding unseen and unheard as you made a beeline for the top of the winding stairs that would safely separate you from the house's new owner.

Stood in your bedroom, you furiously pushed back your tears from your reddening cheeks as you struggled to close the small suitcase filled with memories of your life spent at Arrow House.

" Come on!" You shook the leather case on top of the antique cabinet, frustrated with the flimsy clasp that was doing little, if not anything, to help you stash your belongings and make a speedy departure. The whole flustered scene and rickety furniture that had blown your cover watched under the gaze of the very man who had thrown you out. " Bloody thing!"

" Y/N?" Tommy's gravelly voice echoed to you from the frame of the door he'd been stood against as the buckle effortlessly slipped into place. Typical.

" I...I'm just leaving" your mousy voice quietly spoke through a shudder of nerves as your cheeks blushed red at the unexpected sound of Tommy's voice feet from you.

" Don't" he swallowed back his own apprehension to face you, having cocked up the very start of your budding relationship in one rushed assumption and trail of hurtful words he now shamefully regretted.

Clutching your fingers tightly around your small satchel, you turned on your heel before you were met with his approaching footsteps rapidly closing in.

" Y/N, wait" his hand grasped hold of your bag as you swerved past him and away from what you assumed was an attempt to withhold your life's memories tightly packed in your suitcase.

" Please, there's nothing here of value. You've taken my home, let me keep these" your lids welled with tears as you pulled at the small satchel, eyes cast down and away from the man battling with you over items that held no importance to him.

" Y/N, would you just hear me out" Tommy struggled with you until finally letting go. Causing the contents to spill out onto the floor as you scrambled to retrieve them.

"Sweetheart, enough!" Tommy pleaded with your frantic state as he watched your shaky hands desperately try to salvage the small collection of trinkets. Had he done this to you? Given the final blow to an already broken woman, Tommy thought to himself, crouching down as he gently reached his hand out for yours. If only to briefly calm the panic within you" Hey..."

" What?! What Tommy?" You cried, snapping your head up as you pulled your hand away.

" You've taken everything from me! What more do you want?" Your anger for him came out in a strangled sob as you tried to grasp onto the last breath of air in your lungs. Chest heaving, body aching. You had succumbed to the many years of stress that had bored down on you.

" You" he replied, his chest squeezing tightly around his thumping heart as he searched the face of the girl that always had one last push in her to continue on.

" I...fuck..." he sighed, his words getting caught in his throat after the countless speeches he'd prepared, the countless times he'd tried to call your grandmother's house to no avail. Pumping himself up time and time again, only to be met with a ringing tone at the opposite end of the line.

" I was wrong, darling. Wrong about it all" his hands brushed up your arms, fingers curling around the thin fabric of your silky blouse. Wanting to pull you into his arms. Preying you'd let him and all would be forgotten.

" No..." You shook your head, brow creasing with anger for him having discovered the truth you couldn't convince him of the previous night.

" You don't get to do this, Tommy. You're too late" you said through the sobs caught in your chest, shrugging him off as you stood up to leave.

"Y/N!" He called after you, watching the end of your skirt flow out of sight as he scrambled onto his feet after you.

"Hey!" His voice echoed down the stairs as he rushed after you, clambering to save the little that was left of your feelings for him.

Turning to see his thundering steps racing after you, you stifled back the fury that had replaced the guilt you had let yourself feel as you juggled with the bag in your hand.

" You not gonna talk things out with me, eh? Come on, I'll pour you a whisky and we'll..." Tommy impatiently tried to mend the fracture separating you both as you let the weight of the flimsy suitcase in your hand fall onto the table beside you, battling with it once again.

" Like you gave me the courtesy of the other night, Tommy?" You seethed back, cutting him off as your eyes drifted to the small clock on the marble table out of place, fingers itching to put it back to its previous location.

" I have to go" you snapped your eyes away from the turning hands behind the glass, silently bringing an end to the day.

" Y/N" Tommy watched you turn to leave, before grabbing the ticking wooden box and placing it back in your preferred spot on the ivory-stoned table. A feeble, but undoubtedly desperate attempt to please you in any way or form before you shut the doors on him for good.

" Just five minutes, eh?" He jogged over to you, trying to reason with your stubbornness.

" No, Tommy!" You pulled his hands off you that had slipped around your waist in your frantic attempt to flee.

He had hurt you, broken your heart in the quickest and cruelest of manners when he expelled you from the house you had been born in.

Stubborn to the core, but no longer in the competitive nature that had filled your days since his arrival. The playfulness you had both enjoyed, now replaced with a hardened willfulness to protect yourself from him breaking what was left of your heart.

" I have to go. I have a big day tomorrow" you said through the forced smile of deceit etched on the corners of your mouth. Fake it until you make it, had now suddenly become your daily mantra to block out the dread you felt inside.

" Wha.." Tommy scoffed, his brow knitting together as he rested the weight of his body from one foot to the other. " You're gonna marry that bastard?" He's jaw tethered with tension, hand motioning to the door behind you and the risk you were ready to take.

" What choice do I have, Tommy?" You echoed the words you'd tell yourself before you fell headfirst for the unwanted guest you once resented. Holding out hope that the one consistency in your life would change for the better more than Tommy who had been so quick to abandoned you to his own paranoia.

"You have a choice. One right here, with me. Like we promised" he stepped forward, brushing a lone tear from your cheek.

" Until when though, Tommy? Until you next throw me out in the middle of the night? Cal's a sure thing" You turned your head away from the calloused pads of his fingers cradling the side of your face, from the breathy sigh of guilt slipping past his lips.

" Look after her" your gaze darted up to the high ceilings of your former home, tears trickling down your face as you parted with your last hope and the man you had fallen in love with.

" Y/N!" Tommy threw his hands up in the air as he watched you walk through the large wooden doors. Leaving with your bag in hand like a guest rather than the permanent figure in his home, the years of your life spent together replacing the dull walls of Arrow House he had hoped for.

Fuck, he couldn't let you get married. Wouldn't let you get married. And if he wasn't able to convince you of it himself, then he would with the catalyst that would not only bring a halt to the day, but take down the bastard that had been planning it.

With the hour of your vows rapidly drawing near, Tommy stormed to his office. Pulling the small black book of connections and information learnt from within the drawer of his wooden desk.

Picking up the receiver of the brass telephone sat beside him, Tommy's fingers scrolled down the many names he had collected intel on. Harold Sterling, Dicky Jones. The two pompous men he had spectacularly exposed at your engagement ball to the one name that ignited a furious rage within him. Cal Astor.

" Switchboard" the operator at the end of the call announced as the lines connected.

" Maryval convent, Perry Bar Birmingham. The Orphanage"

" I'm sorry" Johnathan eyes cast down as he turned to you, both stood outside the doors of the church as the sound of the choir announced your arrival through the angelic notes echoing against the cobbled stone.

" Enough" you faced him, straightening his limp tie back into place as his teary eyes watched his younger sister tend to everyone but herself on what was supposed to be the most important day of her life.

"Sissy..." He grabbed hold of your hand as you patted down the creases in his suit. Distracting yourself from the event about to unfold. " Tommy, did he not..." he began before you cut him off and settled the questions his mind had been nagging him with all morning.

" He did" you gave him the answer you knew plagued his thoughts, one you wanted to distance yourself from. " This is my choice, Johnathan" you adjusted the ivory veil over your shoulder as you threaded your arm into his. " Shall we?" You smiled through your apprehension as the heavy doors opened, and you stepped into the depraved future you knew awaited you.

Holding onto your brother's arm, you grasped at his tailored suit as the many guests turned to face you. The blinding light shining past the alter, casting colours of reds and blues through the stained glass, obscuring the curling smile of the man who you would call your husband in a moments time.

Slowly you paced along the tiled floor as your eyes searched among the smartly dressed gathering of people. Chest heaving as you realised the one person you wished to see, the one person that could stop you from taking the next step your stubborness refused to let you run from, was absent.

" Sweetpea" Cal took your hand, pulling you up to stand in unison with him as the sounds of your Grannies weeping, muffled though the hankie chief clutched tightly in her hand, echoed through the bricked room. Tears anybody would look endearingly upon, but ones that only held sorrow and hopelessness for the promise to your mother she was unable to uphold.

" We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of hands..." The priest began as Cal's eyes roamed over your body, the dress he had picked out on your behalf pleasing him enough to let his mind wander to the night he would enjoy spent in private with you. A night where you would no longer be able to refuse your duty to him.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace" the words of the gowned man bounced between the four corners of the small chapel, silent with no sounds of protest.

"Then let us begin" the priest smiled to you as he urged you and Cal to join hands, when the door creaked open and the unexpected sight of a smartly dressed man with two gentlemen accompanying him slipped through. Tommy. He was too late...too late.

Grasping his fingers around yours, Cal's jaw snapped with anger as he watched Tommy take a seat with his brothers in an empty pew. His irritation at the bold move, further igniting his fury when he caught the longing stare shared between you both as your eyes drifted towards Tommy at the far end of the church.

Digging his heavy signet ring into the fleshy palms of your hand, Cal pulled your attention away from the gangsters' presence to the ceremony taking place.

" Now, Tom?" Arthur quietly leaned into his brother as his long legs, itching to be free from the small seating area, struggled to stay still.

" Not yet, brother" Tommy's eyes drifted back to your glowing beauty and the glittering rays of light cast on your shimmering dress. Imagining himself stood there with you making the vows of love and dedication he wished he could have articulated to you the day before.

" Do you Cal Meredith Astor, take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" a snort of laughter from the third-youngest Shelby at the unusual middle name, abruptly delayed Cal's response.

" I do" Cal's eyes darted to the giggling gangster, and the smirk of satisfaction Tommy had for the embarrassing echoes of laughter filling the room.

" And do you Y/N Y/L/N, take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" Tommy held his breath, as your eyes darted away from Cal's face to the pull of Tommy's pleading stare, begging you to choose him over the man that would beat you blue every waking hour for the rest of your life.

"I d..."

NEXT PART (FINAL)

Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted (unable to tag) @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3

@emotionalcadaver @mamawiggers1980 @sweetcheesecakesblog @cljordan-imperium

@peakyswritings @tiedyedghoulette @mostly-marvel-musings @classygirlything21 @dana-rmz

@mrsnms @vlryexsworld @themorriganisamonster @thelastemzy

[gomzdrawfr]

"Don't cry."

Simon said this whenever he knew you were about to cry, eyes glossy and watery, lips trembling.

trigger warnings: angst, childhood abuse (referenced + mentioned), canon-typical violence (referenced)

notes: this is an x reader fic, also apologies for the grammar and errors if any

read more to continue this short drabble

“Don’t cry.”

His voice was hollow, rough, forced out before the words had a chance to settle.

Simon said this whenever he knew you were about to cry, eyes glossy and watery, lips trembling.

It wasn’t gentle, nor a plea. It wasn’t meant for comfort or to keep you from falling apart. It was rough, low, and scratched at your ears in a way that made it hard to bear.

It felt more like an order, one you weren’t sure was meant for you or for himself.

“Just… don’t.” He repeated, the words more for himself than for you. Something swirled in his eyes behind the mask, a faint glint catching the light, like shattered glass.

“Simon,” you whispered, voice cracking, but he cut you off with a sharp edge, ending the conversation before it even began.

You thought it was because of the life he led—the danger and discipline that flowed through his blood. You thought he was telling you not to cry because he needed you to be strong. After all, he was a soldier—a man who had seen more violence, death, and despair than you could ever imagine. You assumed he couldn’t stand to see weakness, the vulnerability that came with it.

But there was more.

There was always more with him.

You didn’t know what those words really meant to him, how deep they ran, how they had been carved into his very bones, how they play on repeat in his head like a broken cassette tape on those colder nights.

You didn’t know that those two words were all he had ever heard growing up, the only comfort he could muster when his mum sobbed after another bad night, when Tommy curled up in the corner of the kitchen, scared and bruised, whispering into the dark.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He had felt helpless as a boy, kneeling before his family, wanting more than anything to do something—anything—but lacking the strength or power to act. He couldn’t make the pain go away. He couldn’t make the tears disappear.

Hearing those heart-wrenching sobs, those sniffles, those whimpers—it made him feel like that little boy again: lost, powerless, useless.

But the tears always came, and they never fixed anything. Crying didn’t make the bruises disappear. It didn’t quiet the screams. It didn’t make the shouting stop. All it did was twist his stomach inside out, wring his heart until he didn’t even recognize it anymore, and made his breathing all the more suffocating, like he was drowning in someone else’s grief.

It made him feel small.

Seeing those same tears in your eyes brought him back to that place. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. How to make it better.

He hated it. He hated feeling like that small boy again, hopeless, like he was failing all over.

Because Simon loves you, he truly does, more than himself, and yet he can’t bring himself to face you in these moments. 

Turning his back away from you, his head dipped lower, as if he were willing himself out of the memory that bubbled up, out of the pain that no amount of time or distance could dull.

Tears didn’t fix the past. They didn’t heal the scars that had been left on his soul.

“Simon-”

“Don’t cry… please.”

When he turned away, when he avoided your tears, when he grew distant whenever you broke down in front of him—it wasn’t because he didn’t care.

He just didn’t know how to handle it.

[mmso-notlikethat]

well idk what's this but inspired from here

just math superpowers buck pwp

Bucktommy Ι smut, nsfw, yeah

Buck was a wreck—he wasn’t even trying to hold himself up anymore. His face was buried deep in the pillow, muffling his whimpers and moans, his arms limp at his sides. Only his ass was raised, perfectly arched, and inviting, held steady by Tommy’s firm grip on his hips. Tommy thrust into him with slow, devastating precision, each movement making Buck’s breath hitch and his body tremble.

“Come on, baby,” Tommy purred, his voice a low, teasing hum. “Let’s see if that beautiful brain of yours still works. What’s twenty-four divided by three?”

Buck groaned, muffled against the pillow, his entire body shuddering under the weight of the question and the overwhelming sensation coursing through him. “W-What? Tommyy, I—oh god—I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” Tommy murmured, leaning down just enough for his lips to brush against Buck’s shoulder. “Focus, Smarty. Answer me, and maybe I’ll let you come.”

“Eight!” Buck finally cried, his voice muffled but desperate. Tommy let out a soft, approving hum, his fingers digging slightly into Buck’s hips.

“That’s my good boy,” Tommy praised, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that had Buck gasping into the pillow “But I know you can do better. Let’s try something harder. Sixteen times seventeen”

“Are you kidding me?” Buck whined, his voice breaking as he writhed beneath Tommy, hips twitching, desperate for more. Tommy’s grip on his waist kept him perfectly in place, unrelenting.

“Dead serious,” Tommy replied a smirk evident in his voice. “Show me those superpowers you told me about, come on Evan. You’re so smart right? Sixteen times seventeen.”

Buck’s body quaked as his mind tried to piece together the answer. His words came out choppy, half-slurred, his breath hitching with every syllable. “T-T’mmy, mm, i-it’s... two hundr’d... ummm... seventy-two,” he stammered, the numbers tumbling out between gasps and moans as he buried his face deeper into the pillow.

Tommy chuckled softly, pleased, and rewarded him with a deep, rolling thrust that made Buck sob. “That’s my Superstar,” Tommy murmured, kissing the nape of Buck’s neck. “But we’re not done yet. One more. Hmm what’s fifty-four divided by nine, times thirteen?”

Buck whimpered, his voice muffled and shaky as his body trembled beneath Tommy. He tried to lift his head, only to let it fall back into the pillow, his lips moving but barely forming words. “Mmm... T’mmy... mm, ic’n’t,” he murmured, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “S’mmuch... ohhh... mm, jus’... please!”

Tommy groaned low in his throat, his lips curving into a smile against Buck’s damp skin. His hand slid down, wrapping around Buck’s cock with an agonizingly slow stroke that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. “You can, baby,” he coaxed, his tone softer now still teasing, dripping with affection. “I know it’s so much, but you’re so good, Evan. So smart. Just one more answer for me.”

Buck’s body twitched, his mind foggy and overwhelmed as Tommy’s hand continued its torturous pace, the roughness of his palm making Buck shudder even more.. His lips barely moved as he whispered incoherent fragments, “Mmm... dunno... ohhh, T’mmy... s’mmch, p-plea—mm.” He hesitated, his breath hitching, before finally blurting out, “S-Seventy-eight!” His voice cracked, the answer spilling out in a rush as his entire body tensed, his ass pushing back against Tommy in pure desperation.

“There he is,” Tommy groaned, his tone full of pride as he gripped Buck tighter, his thrusts quickening while his hand sped up. “That’s it Evan. So damn good for me.”

Buck’s body shattered beneath him, convulsing with the force of his orgasm as he let out a cry muffled by the pillow. Tommy worked him through it, stroking him all the way until Buck was trembling and completely spent. Only then did he slow, his touch softening as Buck’s body finally went limp beneath him.

As Buck lay there, his face still buried in the pillow, his breath coming in uneven gasps, Tommy leaned down to press kisses along the curve of his spine. “See?” Tommy murmured with a soft chuckle. “You’re so damn smart. My genius boy.”

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Save Me From Your Brother, Tommy!

Summary: you call Tommy to save you from your husband's wrath...

- - - -

Maria just finished making popcorn, tossing one towards the couch where Tommy expertly managed to catch it in his mouth. She sits down next to him as he wraps his arm over her shoulder. They settle in together for a lovely, quiet, romantic evening watching TV when--

Her phone starts buzzing.

Tommy grasps it next to him and checks the ID. It's you.

Maria shrugs and let's him answer.

"Yello?"

Your frantic, desperate, hushed voice carries over the speaker: "Tommy? TOMMY! You have to help me..."

Tommy sits upright. Maria pauses the TV, wondering why her boyfriend has stiffened. "What is it. What's wrong? Are you ok?" Chills run down his spine. He's never heard you like this.

You sniffle, holding the receiver closer to your lips. Your fast, panicked breaths are shaken. "He's... he won't let me go. Please Tommy you have to get me out of here..."

Tommy puts it on speaker, looking at Maria, fear creeping into both of their souls. "Who? Where are you? Where's Joel?"

"Its... its Joel!" You squeak. They can hear more shuffling, like you're crouched somewhere small and enclosed. "I'm home. I'm hiding from him... I'm in the bathroom..."

Tommy's heart is escalating. He knows Joel. There's never been a single fiber inside that guy that could give way he could cause someone such fear. Let alone his own wife. Who he loves to death. Who he's obsessed with. Something must be horribly wrong for you to call so scared...

"What is he doing? Where's Sarah?"

"She's sleeping...she's ok...she's spared from him... from his..."

Suddenly, they can hear Joels voice calling your name distantly from another room. You audibly gulp. "Tommy, he's gonna make me--!"

"Make you what!?"

"Hes calling for me... i have to... he's gonna come looking," you whisper desperately. You turn on the face time screen, and Tommy can see you clearly. You're hiding in the bathroom, the lights off. Your bedroom door connecting to the bathroom is closed, but there's a bright light shining underneath, and Joel's voice calling for you again.

You open the door, and Tommy and Mariah hold their breaths....

Only to see Joel is lying in bed casually, his waist tucked into the covers and back resting against the headset. When he sees you, he smiles and waves. "Baby! I paused it for you, so you don't miss anything." He pats the bed next to him, opening the sheets for your invitation. His toes swish under the sheets, unable to contain his giddiness and joy. Even Spoon, who is lying on the bed, has her paws over her ears, face tucked into the sheets as if she is being subjected to the torture you're referring to.

Joel doesn't seem threatening or menacing or... really anything out of the ordinary that should make you as upset as you are, so what the...?

"Joel...please...." you plea, near tears.

"What? It's the Hallmark Christmas in July marathon!" He cheers excitedly.

Tommy and Maria look at one another and then burst into laughter.

You cry out, stammering your feet like a kid having to finish homework before play time. "Tommy, he's making me watch these fucking Hallmark movies!!! THERE ARE SO MANY. IT NEVER ENDS. Get me out of here!!

Maria is laying fully back on the sofa, nearly capsizing on the edge from her giggles. Tommy is trying to hold her up with his leg, but his hand is clutched over his heart, purple in the face from not being able to breathe from how hard he's equally laughing.

"Tommy, its not funny!"

"You on the phone with Tommy?" Joel asks curiously.

Finally Tommy responds, albeit wheezing through his words. "I didnt know Joel liked Halmark movies..!"

Joel looks at you with a frown. "You said you wouldn't tell anybody..." He says softly, a mixture of embarrassment and betrayal.

"Oh Tommy counts as someone?" Tommy stops laughinh for a moment, now deciding against helping you.

You slouch your shoulder and whimper poutily, trudging your body towards him. "Do we HAVE to?"

Joel rolls his jaw. "If only i did things for YOU, like a loyal, devoted husband, willing to do ANYTHING for his wifes happiness," he growls sternly.

You KNOW hes the best, and even now pregnant with his second baby, and going through the torture of being... well, you in this state. He really doesn't ask for much. But this specifically is payback for earlier today when you made him drive you 2 hours for your favorite bubble tea, only to find it closed because you didn't Google their week schedule beforehand. And then made him drive 2 hours back to your second favorite place, only to find they ran out of boba for the day. To which Joel started lecturing to the poor girl about how a boba tea place can be open and not have any boba. He was already exhausted, angry, and frustrated, and definitely deserved a reward for having to chauffer you around.

But THIS?

"Okay so this isn't an emergency. This is just the consequences of your actions," Maria explains. She always knew you were a dramatic bitch but this really took the cake.

"I dont deserve this torture! Tommy, he's your DNA!"

Tommy shrugs. "And you married him. Have fun!" Tommy and Maria wave through the screen before ending the call.

Your lower lip trembles as you stare at the black screen. You only chance to get out of here, gone.

You look up to Joel, who slaps your empty spot on the bed twice, very firmly, very threateningly. His jawbone flexes. You dragged him around all day, and now ratted out his guilty pleasure, something you SWORE you wouldn't tell anyone. You earned this punishment.

"Still got Christmas House, Christmas on Cherry Lane, and 12 Dates of Christmas! Now.... Come. Here."

You cry but hang you head low, dragging your feet to put up with the fifth day in a row of cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies in July.

- - - -

@jeewrites @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist