#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.”

[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

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[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."

-----------

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[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

[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

[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!❤️

[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

[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!!

[eupheme]

JOEL MILLER - 2023 FIC RECS

this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨

— A Lover's Pinch by @hier--soir

a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?

— A Matter of Timing by @lavenderursa

Before the world went to shit you and your neighbor, Joel, were involved. It was complicated then and now at the end of the world, it's much the same.

— A Minute From Home by @agentmarcuspike

— A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing by @jupiter-soups

joel miller is not quite as scary as the people of jackson believe him to be. at least, not around you.

— A Very Furby Christmas by @/proxima-writes

it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect. / well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months / turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town.

— Asking Nicely by @grippingbeskar

— Autumn Air by @swiftispunk

it’s been a month since you returned home from costa rica and you and joel have fallen into a blissful routine. when a rude awakening threatens to disrupt that peace, together you must make a decision…or two.

— Barbie Girl by @tightjeansjavi

Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

— Be Good, Be Quiet by @/undercoverpena

bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.

— Blue Jeans N'Texas Dreams by @/tightjeansjavi

Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

— Boston Holiday. by @/amywritesthings

You’re decorating for the holidays in your Boston Quarantine Zone apartment. A begrudging Joel Miller gets involved.

— Bunny Tails by @sweetercalypso

When hunter!Joel finds reader picking flowers outside his cabin, he convinces her to come inside

— But He Does Have You by @undercoverpena

because he hasn’t got a lot of anything, but he does have you.

—Butterfly by @stargirlfics

Sometimes the path to healing starts with a reminder of what’s been lost

— Can’t Help Myself by @fettuccin-e

— Catching by @softlyspector

None of your partners had ever been able to make you come before. Joel changed that.

— Comfortably Close by @omgreally

You and Joel share a couch.

— Come Clean by @cupofjoel

joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you’re already in the shower

— Comfort Came Against My Will by @/undercoverpena

it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

— Creature Comforts by @galactic-basic

A gift. Joel didn’t call it that. Didn’t say as much. Didn’t say anything—actually. / But it’s yours. Your mattress. Your bed. There are so few things you can call yours these days.

— Crystal by @ezrasbirdie

Joel's live-in girlfriend is a little witchy. It takes some getting used to.

— Dinner & Diatribes by @tightjeansjavi

you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

— Dinner Date by @juletheghoul

 neighbour!Joel au

— Distracted by @/psychedelic-ink

there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.

— Does Your Mother Know? by @/cupofjoel

— Flesh and Metal by @/swiftispunk

you meet joel at a bar. he really likes your nipple piercings. that’s about it.

— From Eden, Love Grows by @moonlight-prose

Days spent in flower fields and cooking in a sunbathed kitchen with him.

— Grays by @/softlyspector

Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked. He would never dare admit it, though.

— Go Slow by @/frannyzooey

In the quiet of your bedroom, Joel guides you through it. 

— Honeyed by @/softlyspector

You hate being touched, but you might be willing to put aside your discomfort for a tattoo from Joel.

— Honeymoon by @bits-and-babs

— Hurt by @/moonlight-prose

alone and trying to survive, you find your path crossing with a man who’s headed to boston of all places. he claims he’s looking for a new start, not realizing you might be it.

— I Crawl Home To Her by @/agentmarcuspike

after being stabbed, joel floats in and out of consciousness, between then and now, before and after, and his two daughters, both saving him in their own ways.

— I Know My Faults, But I Can't Hide Them… by @tarrenterror25

It’s all about surviving now. Joel knows it and so do you.

— I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by @/thetriumphantpanda

Your daughter catches you kissing santa… or does she?

— Juniper by @/softlyspector

You're sleepy. Joel knows a good way to put you to sleep.

— Ktober 2023 Day 24- Lingerie by @flightlessangelwings

— Keep It On The Low by @/cupofjoel

just because you and joel broke up doesn’t mean you can’t still (secretly) enjoy each other’s company

— Let Me Take Care Of You by @spaceydragons

Joel had a rough day, you take care of him

— Living in a State of Dreaming by @/cupofjoel

it’s been a year since you, joel, and ellie returned to jackson, and you’re finally starting to feel a sense of security. but when the sun goes down and joel closes his eyes, the horrors beyond the walls still hunt him, out to take back the family he’s worked so hard to protect.

— Made By Hand by @tinycozycomfort

He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.

— Met The Devil Last Night by @pedgito

made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and…well, yeah.

— Middle of the Night by @/frannyzooey

He comes to you for comfort.

— Midnights by @/omgreally

Joel pulls back, and the blown-pupil intensity in his eyes makes you clench. “That a challenge?” he wonders, fingering the waistband of your jeans. / “You got any better ideas on how to ring in the new year, Joel Miller?”

— Mine by @the-scandalorian

He wants it—has wanted it.  / He wants the claim. The utter possession.

— Misbehavior by @/stargirlfics

 It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face

— Moments by @charnelhouse

Joel and you in a hotel phone booth.

— More and More by @/moonlight-prose

“he wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected. and you let him.”

— Moss & Mushrooms by @/softlyspector

You are alone, always. Then, one day, a beast emerges from the forest you've never dared to go into.

— My Girl Now by @/psychedelic-ink

joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend’s kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you’re the opposite. when he learns how you’ve been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

— Old Partners, New Plans by @grippingbeskar

— One Bed by @frannyzooey

“there is only one bed” + joel miller

— Only Need Ten by @pascalpvnk

“Joel,” your whine muffled by your pillow. “I have to leave in fifteen minutes, I can’t be late for patrol again. We have to be back in time for Sunday brunch.” / “Only need ten, baby,” he drawled in a hushed tone, hooking his thick fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. “Please?”

— Picture by @/softlyspector

You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.

— Pieces of You by @pedros-mustache

Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe it’s possessive and a tad bit jealous. Maybe after years working alongside Tess, you’ve simply learned to lay your claim on what is yours. 

— Press the Gas and Ride by @charnelhouse

comfort in a car

— Roadside Delight by @/inklore

joel should have known you’d be trouble when he found you on the side of the highway. he should have known you’d taste so fucking sweet too.

— See You by @hopeamarsu

— Seeing You, Seeing Me by @amywritesthings

After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

— Silence by @/frannyzooey

 Joel makes a silent promise.

— So, My Darlin' by @/psychedelic-ink

you convince joel to have a bubble bath with you.

— Sober by @/sweetercalypso

When Joel needs a break from reality, he finds the perfect distraction in a QZ dive bar

— Something Bad by @/fettuccin-e

— Something Wild and Unruly by @/ezrasbrdie

At Madame Aurelie's Secret Garden, men pay for beautiful courtesans trained in pleasure to give them whatever they want. And all Joel Miller, infamous outlaw and gunslinger, ever seems to want from you is a warm bath and quiet conversation.

— Standing in the Eye of the Storm by @/stargirlfics

You find each other at the end of the world

— Stay In Bed by @/psychedelic-ink

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

— Sweet Thing by @mandoisapunk

 the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

— Sweet Words of Sin by @/moonlight-prose

“there was a certain high that came from this. having a man like joel miller relenting to your every word, all to hear those sweet words fall from your lips. as delicious as a glass of wine and just as sinful.”

— Sweetned Breath and Tongue So Mean by @/moonlight-prose

“joel couldn’t fathom what you saw in him. a man bloodied with the ravages of life. he’d taken life, killed to survive, and there were times he even fucking enjoyed it. but you were soft. you were the good that remained. the light he shouldn’t be allowed to tarnish.”

— Take Care of You by @theidiotwhowritesthings

You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

— Take Your Medicine by @/hier--soir

your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen.

— Tarnished But So Grand by @morning-star-joy

tommy and maria lead a jovial existence in the countryside, but the appearance of tommy’s brother causes a stir in society with the dark rumors swirling around his reputation, some due to his standoffish demeanor and some due to the mysterious parentage of his rambunctious young ward miss williams

— The Checklist by @thetriumphantpanda

Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you’re into, things you haven’t asked for from him, you’re surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.

— The Dog of War by @/bits-and-babs

When Ellie is taken by David, Joel breaks open the part of him locked away since his hunter days. As the guilt eats him alive, you try to help him subdue the black dogs of mental warfare.

— The Revenant Wife by @pettyprocrastination

Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 

— The Way We Fight by @/cupofjoel

you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

— Toyin’ With Them Older Guys by @proxima-writes

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. / But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. / Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

— Trust Fall by @/tinycozycomforts

This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.

— Two by @/the-scandalorian

— Watch Party by @/sweetercalypso

renting a Halloween movie turns into a nightmare when poltergeist!Joel Miller crawls out of your TV

— Way Too Damn Needy by @/cupofjoel

— What I Want by @/proxima-writes

joel comes home from a rough day of patrol and you know just what he needs.

— When You're Reading Me by @/psychedelic-ink

If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it. 

— Wicked Games by @inklore

relationships are built on trust. favors, kindness, and hands meant to help, not maim. there’s no room for dishonesty, games, or ploys. that’s not the storybook way of things or how life should be. but maybe those rules only mattered when you weren’t living in a world that’s gone to shit |  joel miller x smuggler!reader

— Wish You Were Here by @macfrog

you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)

— Woods by @/frannyzooey

— You Know I Don’t Mean It by @joelscruff

you and joel get off together. that’s pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he’s being closed off.

— You Take My Self Control by @/cupofjoel

your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.

— Your Summer Dream by @/swiftispunk

fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit in joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days to a tropical resort with you and your parents.

if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕

[gloryofroses19]

Because the Night

The atmosphere in the pub was already in full swing by the time Major Bucky Egan led his group to the table Tommy saved for them.

“Jesus, it’s like those paratroopers never seen a woman before.” Curt wiped his uniform jacket, “They took one look at [y/n] and it was like Niagra Falls.” 

Taking the seat Bucky held out for her, [y/n] thanked him as she sat. 

“I think Ol’ Faithful Geyser at Yosemite might be a better choice Curt.” Buck replied taking a seat across from Bucky. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever cowboy.” Looking at the expectant faces of Bucky and Buck, Curt sighed “Yes, Bucky I wouldn’t mind getting the drinks. Why thank you Buck, I am the kindest man in this bar.”  

Ignoring Curt and Buck, Bucky leaned in closer to [y/n] watching the paratrooper across the bar tense. “So, who is he?” 

Major Bucky Egan was not shocked that men looked at [y/n]. She was not only one of the few women around, but she was as pretty as a picture. And she knew it, hell it was on the reasons Bucky liked her. Her beauty caught his eye but her self assured nature drew him in. So while he didn’t love the looks men gave her in general, the look of recognition and remorse in this paratrooper in particular sent air raid sirens through his mind. 

Twisting her earring with a sigh, [y/n] met Bucky’s inquisitive gaze. “My ex.” 

Raising his eyebrows as if to ask for confirmation of what he just heard, [y/n] nodded to the brunette.  From across the table Major Buck Clevens sat up straight as he watched the growing opposing demeanor of the pair. One that spoke of apathy while the other spoke of interest in the topic. 

“Who we fightin’?” Dropping the drinks on the table, Curt rejoined the trio, “Bucky’s got that rabble rouser look on his face.”  

“The ginger at 12 o’clock doing a shitty job at secretly surveying [y/n].” Buck drawled watching Bucky attempt to catch the ginger’s eye. Major Gale Clevens knew John Egan well enough to know when he was looking for a fight. Gale had seen John protective over his friends and his men, so he could only imagine what he would be like over his unofficial girl.  

“No shit? Want me to fuck him up for you?” Turning around in his seat, Curt assessed the paratrooper and his friends. “There’s only four of them, we can easily take ‘em.” 

[y/n] leaned back in her chair contemplating the situation she found herself in. Before she had walked into the bar, her biggest concern was how she was going to keep Bucky from serenading her tonight. But walking in and seeing her ex’s face and John’s reaction threw that concern right out of the window. 

“While that is sweet of you Curt, no. It’s been two years, I’m long over him and if anyone should be scared, it should be him. I’m not the one who cheated.” Since their breakup, she hadn't put much thought into her ex or dating. And it certainly wasn’t because she was still in love with him. Rather the war broke out and she joined the WAC leaving her with little time or interest to date. Or that had been the case until Major John Egan swaggered his way onto Thorpe Abbotts base. 

“That fucker… makes me wanna punch him more now.” 

 “If it makes you feel better Curt, I broke his nose when I found him cheating.” 

“Atta girl.” Buck chuckled while sipping his ginger beer. He expected nothing less from the spitfire who stole his best friend’s heart. 

 “Didn’t you say you were getting harassing letters from an ex?” The arm that had been carelessly thrown over the back of her chair suddenly wrapped around [y/n]’s shoulder pulling closer to John. 

“I was exaggerating, John. It was just a letter!” Placing her hand over his, [y/n] squeezed his hand in a silent plea. “Please don’t do anything stupid...” Looking for Buck for support, [y/n] was however, met with the profile of the blonde major.

Bucky chuckled as he watched [y/n]’s attempt to deter him. While he and Gale Clevens may have been opposites, Buck was a true friend.  And true friends let other friends knock out the guy bothering his girl. “Won’t be considered anything stupid if it comes to you, sweetheart.” 

Between the protective glint in his eyes and baritone voice, [y/n]’s heart began hammering in her chest. Grounding herself in the contrast of his rough hands against her softer ones, she was reminded of who Major John Egan was. “Look if he comes this way then you can be my knight in shining armor but right now can we just go back to flirting and listening to Curt rewrite a story about how amazing his flying is?” 

Curt put hands up in defense. “Hey, I am amazing at flying and I don’t rewrite stories, I just…embellish them.” 

Hooking an arm around Curt’s neck, Buck tapped a fist against Curt’s chest. “Oh embellish, what a big word for you Curt.” 

Deciding that it had been far too long since he had her attention all to himself, John Egan tucked an escaped curl behind her ear before leaning in to whisper.  “…So you are flirting with me, Lieutenant? Keep that up and someone might think you like me.” 

The warmth of his body and the smell of his aftershave left her all but lightheaded. They had unofficially officially been an item since his second day at the base. When she decided to share her umbrella and laughter with the handsome hapless Major who lost the battle and a shoe to the English mud. 

“Oh the horror Bucky…” 

“Oh, calling me Bucky, you must really want me to do this for you.” Caressing her the inside of her wrist, John considered if tonight would be the night he could kiss her like he always wanted to. As a promise for it their last first kiss because the night belongs to lovers like them. 

“I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you don’t start a bar brawl.” [y/n] supplied in response watching the smile light up across his face, knowing she had opened a can of worms. But she couldn’t say she regretted it; Bucky Egan was the sun and she basked under his warmth.

“Oh, with a request like that how can I say no?… for now.” Sharing in her laughter, John placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. 

Sipping his whiskey, John turned back to the group and sought counsel on his new dilemma. “What do you think boys, handsome, the way to go? No, maybe I should go with pretty boy? No, too soft. Mhmm, how about my darling future husband? Now that has a nice ring to it!” 

A/N: I apparently have a thing for hand holding... I appreciate any and all feedback!

[mikalame]

2023 Tom Kaulitz

Warnigns: tom eating you out basically, squirting, fingering, this is kinda cringe i apologise lol

I have some more bill stuff coming out but i did have to write for my hubby make sure to request taglist: @oppopotamus@violentnewmarley@saumspam@adissonsss

"Mmmh-hold still hübsches Mädchen- mmh" Tom groans his tounge flicking back between your swollen clit and your sopping hole. You lift your hips up trying to pull away from his mouth but his thick arms wrapped around your thighs are just getting tighter.

"Tom plea-ah- please- hold on" you whimper, your over-senstive clit making it harder to enjoy what toms giving you. You rake you nails through his curls and pull away with what little streaght you have left.

Tom had just gotten back from The Voice Germany and you havent been able to get a second with eachother on phone or facetime. You were both craving eachother so much but tom had been between your thighs for over 30 minutes and didnt look likke he was gonna stop.

"Not yet- stay still fuck you taste so good- missed this cunt" he trails off in groans taking about how he missed your taste, how he cant wait to fuck you senseless. Feeling famillar feeling shoot up from your legs to your achcing core you try and chase the feeling your hips grinding on toms face his nose bumping up agasit your throbbing clit.

Tom tounge dips in and out faster, feeling how warm your body was getting he deciseded to make it worth your while. He unhooks one of the arms wrapped tight around your thighs and move his index and middle finger to your core, your hips bucking at the lost sensaction before his lips wrap around your clit sucking hard.

His fingers make quick work at your cunt, picking up all your juices that have dripped out before teasig your entance with the tips of his fingers. "Please tom put them in alr-ah!" you moan as he pushes his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.

His fingers moving at a fast and hard speed along with his lips around your clit puts you into over drive, your thighs closing tighter around his head while the rest of your leg straightens up. Your back arching of the bed as his fingers hit the aching spot in your pussy.

"Fuck Tom i-im gonna cu-!" you try and warn him before you screww your eyes tight, your hips moving on there own, you hands fliging ito his hair holding it tightly. Tom never lets out pushing your trough your high, knowing your high has hit when your back collapes back onto the bed your cheast riging fast as you come back down to earth.

Tom looks up at you through heavy lashes as he keeps on his movements, you post-nut clarity ending abruptly as a warmth heats up your core. You gasp and grind agaist his face trying to let him know you where gonna come again.

As he keeps on going your mews and whimpers only adding to the mischievous grin you can feel across your sensitive pussy. Tom fingers gring fast agaist your g-spot making it very clear to you that you wernt about to come.

"Ah tom- stop im gonna pee- ah tommy- Ahh!" you moan loudly, your climax hitting rather unexspected as your body shakes with pleasure, Your fingers now pulling on the sheets beside your ached body. You body flopping down on the bed fully exsuaghed from you cumming 2x in a row you gathher enough strength to look down your body littered with deep purple marks and light red teeth marks from tom.

You peer down to see toms faces dripping wet his beard speckled with little water drop-lets as his eyes meet with yours. You breathing slowing back down to a normal pace as you try a peice to gether what happened.

"Fuck hübsch, didnt know you had in in ya" he chuckles spreading your legs apart, leading your hand to feel the messy to made between your legs. "Ah Tom did i piss myself" you sit up looking down a the wet patch you toms face, shirt, arm and the puddle on the bedsheets.

"No- well sorta Liebchen, you squirted and i was so fucken hot" Tom groans he leans over you and places wet kisses on your shoulders leading to your face where he processed to say " cant wait for you to do that again" before pressing his lips into a passionate kiss.

i hope you liked i didnt spell check and i cant spell for shit sorry...

[zablife]

Ordinary People

Summary: When you meet a charming soldier in a base hospital during WWI, you become fascinated by him and quickly develop a relationship. You both agree to leave the affair in France, but what happens when fate has other plans?

Author's Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time's 4K celebration and based on a request from @kammsinn. Tysm for the amazing inspo, darl! Lyrics are from the song "Til We Meet Again."

Warnings: hint of smut, angst with a happy ending

1917

You knew it was unethical conduct that could get you fired, but somehow you set all logic aside that final evening you entered the dark-haired soldier’s hospital room. He had invited you back at sunset with a desperate plea. “I’m leaving Boulogne tomorrow, love. Stay the night with me.” His strikingly blue eyes trained on you eagerly awaiting your reply. “Please,” he added quietly, reaching for your hand. His gaze held such hope, you caved to your own desire immediately.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze you agreed in a hushed whisper, “Yes, I’ll come back,” you said as a small smile tugged at your lips. Something about the charm of this handsome, young soldier was enough to make you disregard the risk associated with his request.

Later that evening, with heart hammering in your chest, you slipped into his room. You bit your lip to hide your excitement when you caught sight of him. He was shirtless with a bandage covering a large portion of his left shoulder, propped up in bed reading the book you’d brought him days earlier. “Y/n,” Tommy said, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and relief. “It’s late, I wasn’t sure you’d visit," he admitted shyly, discarding his book on the bedside table.

“Told you I would,” you reminded him gently. “I had to see my favorite patient,” you teased. He broke into a warm smile, pulling you down onto his bed with his good arm. Caressing his face with your fingertips you added softly, “Did you really think I’d let you go without a proper goodbye?”

His smile faded at the mention of your imminent separation. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight,” he confided, burying his head in the crook of your neck and placing kisses to your throat.

“Then we won’t,” you promised, stroking his hair. “I can think of other things we can do,” you whispered into the shell of his ear.

Tommy didn’t miss the hint of mischief in your voice as you scooted closer to him, running a hand down his toned chest and stomach. Though he wanted you badly, his mind was restless with thoughts of his departure. He looked at you with sadness in his cool blue eyes, a chill washing over him you’d never seen before. Even when he was in pain, the man never showed weakness or cried out. He kept so much inside himself you wondered how he could possibly be human. As you took in the sight of his long, feathery lashes you were even more certain of his otherworldly nature.

His eyes traced the features of your face slowly, drinking in the sight of you as you suggested an activity he hadn’t been expecting. “Dance with me,” you asked breathlessly.

“Wasn’t anticipating that,” he joked with a huff of a laugh. Glancing around the room, he cocked an eyebrow at you as he protested, “There’s no music, love.”

“I don’t care. I want you to hold me in the lamplight,” you confided, as you brushed the hair from his forehead. “Let’s pretend we’re far away from this hospital and this war. We’ll be ordinary people on a date somewhere lovely,” you mused, willing away the growing ache of melancholy within your chest.

Noting the pleading look in your eye, he conceded with a gentle nod of his head, “Alright.”

Extending your hand, you put on your most authoritative voice. “On your feet, soldier,” you commanded playfully. The young man shuffled himself to the side of the bed and you helped him stand, the bullet wounds in his left shoulder and back still not properly healed. You allowed him a moment to find his footing, taking the opportunity to let your hair down from the oppressively tight regulation hairstyle. 

Shaking your hair out with a toss of your head, you proclaimed, “That’s better. Now where were we?” you asked with a smile, before lacing your hands around his neck and beginning to hum. Tommy’s hands wandered across your midsection, finally coming to rest at the swell of your hips. He rubbed soothing circles over your uniform as he swayed with you. Closing his eyes, he savored the smell of your shampoo and the softness of your curls against his cheek as you began to sing softly.

Smile the while you kiss me sad adieu,

When the clouds roll by I'll come to you,

Then the skies will seem more blue,

Down in lovers lane my dearie

He hooked a finger under your chin to capture your attention, the remainder of the lyrics dying on your lips as you studied his earnest expression. “Tell me your name,” he begged. You made a rule early on that you wouldn’t exchange names. It was a necessary precaution as you felt yourself falling for him, but realizing the fleeting time between you.

Although you wanted to tell him that first night you sat by his bedside tending a fever, fearful he might die, you never did. You were glad of it when he woke, blinking at you with dazzling sapphire eyes and engaging you in conversation that left you riveted. There was an instant attraction which you teased forth with a nickname in place of his own, hoping that would thwart any foolhardy notions of this lasting beyond the time he was under your care.

“Soldier, you know I can’t do that,” you said, leaning your forehead against his. 

“Why not? It’s not against the rules to contact you after I leave,” he persisted.

You inhaled a shaky breath as you thought of an answer he would accept without malice. 

“I love you. You can’t deny that you love me too,” he urged, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

You gulped harshly at the sight of emotion from him, unsure how to proceed. Allowing your practicality to win, you hushed him as you denied his request. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you choked out, “Doesn’t matter now that you’re leaving."

“It does to me. I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, setting his jaw sternly.

“You say that now, but when you’re back home, real life will be different. What's between us now will be like a beautiful dream, timeless and unspoiled,” you persuaded. "Don't despair, there will be others,” you said, intending to be hopeful, but falling flat in the delivery.

“Not like you,” he mumbled, a single tear cascading down his freckled cheek. 

You wiped it away with your fingertips, soon replacing your hand with your lips to leave a trail of kisses from his cheek to his jawline. Allowing your head to drift lower onto his mouth, you kissed him with fervor. It was an attempt to demonstrate your feelings physically and he reciprocated immediately, tangling a large hand in your hair. 

No more words were spoken between you as he pushed you onto his bed and undressed you as he’d wished to do many times before. It was under the light of a pale crescent moon and the soft glow of the oil lamp that he made love to you for the first and last time. 

He savored every small sensation as he seated himself inside you, recording each moan and whimper into his brain as you arched off the bed beneath him. It was the most alive he’d been in years, feeling you writhe against him. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have this always. He quickly felt himself unraveling, impending orgasm suddenly crashing over him as he released into you without meaning to. 

In the moment of passion, you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his trim waist to pull him impossibly closer. He brought his lips to yours again as you too came undone, swallowing your cries so as not to be discovered by the night nurse on duty.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing beside you and tugging you toward his chest insistently. The drumming of his heartbeat against his ribs eventually subduing and your gentle breathing lulling him into a peaceful slumber. In the morning, he would wake to an empty bed and his few possessions lovingly packed by the door in anticipation of his departure. It was only then that he forced himself to accept the fact that he would never see you again.

——————————————————————

1922

“Why are we here, Tom?” Arthur grumbled as he downed another drink. 

“There are influential families at this party who can help us,” Tommy grimaced as he downed his whisky in one gulp.

Arthur nudged him as he noticed a woman staring from across the room. “Would she belong to one of those families?” he asked, wondering if his brother had ulterior motives.

Tommy’s eyes scanned the room until he found the lady Arthur had pointed out. The hair was different, but your smile remained the same after all these years. He would have felt the warmth of it from hundreds of miles away. 

“You alright, brother?” Arthur asked.

“M fine,” Tommy mumbled, crossing the room to the woman he’d dreamt about since he left France.

As he approached the small group where you stood, his palms began to sweat. He wasn’t sure what he might say after all this time, but soon found his mouth opening in a formal greeting nonetheless. 

You instantly beamed back at the sight of a familiar face. “Hello, soldier,” you greeted him congenially.

Tommy was taken aback at the familiar salutation you’d given him each morning back in France. Time stood still as he reached for your hand and kissed it gently. “You remembered,” he mumbled.

“I could never forget you,” you replied. It was true that you hadn’t gone a day without thinking of him in the five years since you left his bed that misty November morning. In a hushed voice you added, "There have been many times I wished to talk to you and discuss the events of the day as we used to. It was comforting to me."

Tommy looked away as he felt himself overcome with emotion, remembering how you insisted on remaining a stranger to him. “What are you playing at?” he asked, venom seeping into his voice at the thought of looking weak once more, the way he had revealed himself that last night when he begged to know your name.

You furrowed your brow in confusion at his sudden anger, stuttering in return “N-nothing. I only wanted you to know—“

But he cut you off before you could finish. “To know that I was a fool? I was to think you ever cared for me,” he asserted.

“That’s not true,” you said shaking your head fiercely and feeling your large diamond earrings collide with your neck.

Tommy’s patience was wearing thin now and he contemplated excusing himself from the party altogether until you reached for his arm. Clutching at the expensive material of his tuxedo with your fingertips, you looked into his eyes, your own brimming with tears as you confessed, “I loved you too. I’m sorry I couldn't bring myself to say it then." You shifted your weight uncomfortably as you asked, "Can we start anew?”

He softened at your touch and your admission, a feeling of vindication rushing through his blood. Placing a hand over yours he answered without thinking of his pride, “Yes, I’d like nothing more. Shall we begin with an introduction?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded as you offered the thing he'd wanted most. "Y/n Y/l/n," you replied, holding his gaze. "And you are?"

"Thomas Shelby," he said, standing a bit straighter as he introduced himself. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let me take you somewhere tonight. We'll start over, as you said," he eagerly began.

“It’s not that easy,” you interjected, biting your lip in concern. “I have a new life now that I can't leave at a moment's notice,” you warned him.

He dropped his hand from you instantly, head turning to look around the room as he asked, “You have someone?” 

“Yes,” you hesitantly admitted, watching his jaw clench in frustration.

Placing your hand to his cheek you calmed him with a soothing tone you’d used with wounded men in France. “It’s not like that….not what you’re thinking.”

Tommy jerked away suddenly, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Who is he?” his low voice rumbled with a hint of agression.

You sighed, knowing you had to admit it now before you lost your courage. “His name is William,” you rushed out in a single breath.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Tommy admitted.

“It’s time you knew,” you said with a gentle nod.

“Knew what?” he pressed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern.

“That you have a son,” you whispered, looking at him with tears spilling past your lashes. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t even know your name.” You hid your face in your hand, overcome with the unburdening of your soul. You’d cried yourself to sleep so many nights wishing you hadn't foolishly insisted on keeping your identities concealed. It had been a harsh few years, relying solely on the generosity of your wealthy parents, but suffering their hurtful opinions on the matter.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Tommy consoled you, cradling you into his strong arms and allowing you to cry into his lapels.

“You don’t hate me?” you sniffed, looking up at him.

“Never…I only hated being apart from you,” he confessed. “Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never let you go,” he swore, raising your chin toward him for a slow, sensual kiss that made your knees buckle.

“You mean that?” you asked with a shuddering breath.

“Of course I do. I only ask one favor first,” he said as he caressed the top of your head lightly.

“What’s that?” you asked with furrowed brow.

“Dance with me,” he said with a wide smile. “Like we did all those years ago.”

“Like ordinary people,” you added, remembering your last night swaying beneath the window of his hospital room.

“Just two ordinary people who found each other again under extraordinary circumstances,” he said, leading you onto the dance floor.

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

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[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.

[brummiereader]

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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)

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[stormtrooperdick]

Tommy's uttered plea of "Please break it" is going to be the true love that breaks Buck's curse