#tommy already called him sweetheart
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
the physical therapist!tommy and patient!buck fic is coming along great...
It's their first proper session and they're already flirting!!
Snippet:
âIs this how all our sessions are going to go?â
Tommy laughed, âOh, hell no. I���m going to get a little rough on you, Evan.â
Buck gulped, âO- Okay.â
#bucktommy#i can't stop them from flirting and i'm the writer#also#tommy already called him sweetheart#whooops
35 notes
¡
View notes
Text
the apple that rolled over to the tree
!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!
there is a⌠kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.
âwhatââ
he canât even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, youâd probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child â he couldnât have been more than two years old with how heâs only three apples tall â clinging to you like a baby koala.
âoh my god, youâre back!â you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.
simon reciprocates the hug anyway.
you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldnât believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but alsoâ
the child.
âsweetheart?â he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. âwhoâs, uh, whoâs that?â
the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simonâs voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simonâs ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, heâ
well, not even babysitting tommyâs kids prepared him for this.
âthis is yasha,â you murmur, pulling simonâs attention back to you. âor yakov, or james if he would want an english name.â
the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.
it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.
âheâs my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that youâre here.â your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boyâs back. simon wonders if itâs more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.
your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he heâs pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.
âsi?â you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. âi think i wanna adopt him.â
simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two â his family â and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. âiâd love that.â
he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simonâs throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.
jesus. heâd need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.
âowies?â yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.
âtheyâre happy tears, sweetie pie,â you reply, crooning. âiâm just so, so happy.â
yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.
yeah, heâs happy too.
.
yasha gets spoiled, not that simonâs complaining given that heâs been the one doing all the spoiling.
âreally, si? a new toly?â you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.
toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still canât speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.
the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simonâs ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.
the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?
like, of course heâs going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.
but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.
(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simonâs on-duty purchase.
âitâs for my boy,â he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that heâs yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.
price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.
he just about begged to see a picture of yasha â âand yer girl again, if you wouldnât mind.â â or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)
when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute â simon counted â before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simonâs hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.
he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!
âheâs fine, bub,â simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everythingâs alright.
then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.
âreally?â you asked.
in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.
in your defence, yashaâs room is running out of space for his tolys.
âŚwell, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?
.
[charlie foxtrot]
sriley: link
john2: ????
sriley: new address.
garry: oh? congratulations.
sriley: thanks.
johnp: đ
.
yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.
dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.
hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didnât even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyoneâs eardrums and their hearts.
kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.
you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldnât settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching forâ
simon glowered.
yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyleâs happy trill of, âof course, maâam!â
yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyleâs lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.
simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.
âyou okay, baby?â you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.
âyeah,â he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.
not that it was kyleâs fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yashaâs favourite.
too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yashaâs call.
â-ddy? daddy?â yasha asked, startling simon.
it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.
âyeah? whatâs up, buddy?â
simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.
yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrickâs front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but itâs all buzz to simon because his son â his darling boy â wanted to play with him during dinner.
yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simonâs eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.
simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.
âaww,â mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. âainât that adorableâ argh!â
simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnnyâs stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyleâs stomach.
.
âuncaâ john?â yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. itâs only their training that stopped simon from acting like heâs noticed.
âyeah, bubsy?â john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.
âthis tory,â yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john â itâs the elephant one.
price gasps theatrically like he hadnât seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, âhow cute!â
âmhmm,â yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on johnâs face. the trunk smooshes against johnâs nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasnât.
âjesusââ price gasps out.
âlanguage!â simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.
.
yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says itâll pass soon. maybe.
basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simonâs reaction to being presented with a child is âwhatâ oh okay, sure why notâ and (literally in 20 minutes) âi will kill everything for this childâ and so here we are
a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley#simon riley x reader#suns
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
"Did the love affair maim you too?"
Joel miller x f!reader
next part

Summary: Joel doesn't like you until he loses all his memories.
w.c: 14k> (longest piece I've written and my eyes are dry)
warnings: fluff, mention of amnesia, memory loss, ANGST and angst, and more angst because I love angst. There is smut but you already know I'm bad at writing that. No proof reading, I'm lazy, sorry.
a/n: hello! I got inspired by this "memory loss" type of story. It was supposed to be a one shoot, but I had to split the whole thing so another part is more likely to happen. I know there has been some drama surrounding writers and I want to say that every single person who writes and makes an art with that is amazing! Everyone who is reading this, please give creators here your flowers. With that being said, Happy reading or not đđ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. (come on, talk to me)
dividers by @saradika-graphics
Joel didn't used to hate women, but man, when he met you for the first time, you crawled under his skin. He had fun with you, making jokes, trying to get on your nerves. For his hell, everyone in Jackson loved you; after all, you were the nurse and the sweetheart. Always looking after everyone, always being sweet to everyone.
It was a sunny afternoon when you first arrived in Jackson, your kind demeanor and skilled hands quickly gaining the trust and admiration of the townsfolk. Joel watched from a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He couldn't understand why everyone was so taken with you. To him, you seemed too soft, too gentle for the brutal world they lived in.
"Hey, Joel," Tommy called out one day, pulling Joel from his brooding thoughts. "We're heading out on patrol. You should meet the new nurse. She's something else."
Joel grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He didn't need to meet you to know what kind of person you were. In his mind, you were just another naive newcomer who wouldn't last a week.
But fate had other plans. That very evening, a group of raiders attacked the outer perimeter. The town was thrown into chaos, and Joel found himself side by side with you, defending the walls. He couldn't help but notice your bravery and the way you handled yourself under pressure.
After the attack, as the town counted its injuries and losses, you worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded. Joel watched you, his irritation growing as he saw the way everyone fawned over you, thanking you for your care.
"Think you're some kind of hero, huh?" Joel muttered as he approached you, his voice laced with sarcasm.
You looked up at him, exhaustion evident in your eyes, but you offered a small, tired smile. "Just doing my job, Joel."
"Your job?" Joel scoffed. "You think patching up a few cuts and bruises is going to keep these people safe? This world doesn't care how sweet you are."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "And what would you have me do, Joel? Let them suffer? We're all trying to survive here, and we all have our roles to play."
Joel huffed and walked away, but your words lingered in his mind. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that you were right. Over the following weeks, Joel continued to watch you, his annoyance slowly giving way to a grudging respect. He noticed how you never backed down, how you always stood your ground, even when faced with his relentless jabs.
One day, during a particularly harsh winter storm, you and Joel were sent out on a supply run. The weather was brutal, and the path was treacherous. As the wind howled around you, Joel found himself instinctively moving closer, his protective instincts kicking in despite his irritation.
"Watch your step," he warned, his voice gruff.
You nodded, shivering against the cold. "Thanks, Joel."
As you both trudged forward, the wind picked up, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. You focused on placing one foot in front of the other, barely able to see Joel a few steps ahead. Suddenly, you heard a sharp crack and a thud.
"Joel!" you shouted, fear gripping your heart.
Rushing forward, you found Joel lying on the ground, unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He must have slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock hidden beneath the snow.
Panic set in, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You needed to get him back to Jackson quickly. You checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady, then did your best to bandage the wound with the supplies you had. With great effort, you managed to lift Joel and drape him over your shoulder, carrying him back through the storm.
By the time you reached Jackson, you were exhausted and freezing, but you didn't stop until you got Joel to the infirmary. The doctors took over, treating his wound and monitoring his condition.
You sat by Joel's bedside, watching him closely. Hours passed, and eventually he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented.
"Joel?" you said softly, leaning forward.
He turned his head to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. But then, a slow, almost lazy smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Did I die and wake up in heaven?"
You blink, taken aback by his words. "Uh, Joel, it's me. Do you remember what happened?"
Joel's smile didn't waver as he looked at you. "I remember everything... except meeting you before. Are you sure we haven't met in a dream?"
You glanced at Tommy, who had just walked into the room, and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. "Joel," Tommy said cautiously, stepping closer, "do you know who I am?"
Joel's eyes shifted to Tommy, his smile fading into a look of mild frustration. "Of course I do, Tommy. You're my brother. But I'm more interested in getting to know this doll here."
Tommy exchanged bewildered looks with you. "Joel, this is⌠Ah. She's... well, you two never really got along."
Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, I must've been an idiot then because I can't imagine not liking someone like you."
Your heart raced, unsure how to respond to this flirtatious side of Joel, the same who hours ago was trying to crawl under your skin, the same one who had rejected you all this time. "Joel, you really don't remember me at all?"
Joel shook his head, still gazing at you with that same enamored look. "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time, and I like what I see."
Tommy scratched his head, clearly at a loss. "This is... something else. We need to figure out what happened to his memory."
You nodded, trying to process the sudden shift in Joel's demeanor. You knew the hit on the head did something to his memory, but you didnât know how to face it. "Joel, you hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said you might have some memory loss. Maybe this is part of it."
Joel reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, if forgetting the past means I get to start over with you, I think I can live with that."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place. Perhaps butterflies are flying all around inside your tummy. "We'll take it slow, okay? There's a lot you need to know."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "As long as you're the one teaching me, I'm all in."
Tommy coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. "Alright, let's give Joel some time to rest and recover. We'll figure this out together."
You nodded, reluctantly pulling your hand away from Joel's. "Get some rest, Joel. We'll talk more later."
As you and Tommy left the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of Joel's gaze following you. Tommy put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Just... be careful. He's not the same Joel right now."
You nodded, your mind racing with the implications of Joel's memory loss and his sudden interest in you. The days ahead were sure to be challenging, but you couldn't deny the flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to know this new, more open version of Joel.
A version where he could get to know you and maybe, like, a new story waiting to be written with the both of you becoming friends, and not just acquaintances just having to tolerate each other for the communityâs sake.
The days following Joel's accident were a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected emotions dancing on your mind. Joel's flirtatious comments and affectionate demeanor were a stark contrast to the gruff, often combative man you had known before.
You had started to get used to feeling his nice demeanor towards you. You found yourself happier than before, smiling at the thought of him when you werenât with him, and he had become your last thought on your bed just before going to sleep, but you were aware his condition perhaps wasnât permanent and he was going to recover his memories of you, so you didnât want to take advantage of that, nor did you want to fall for Joel, not when the fear of him waking up one day and hating you as usual was a threat.
His recovery was slow but steady, and you spent a lot of time by his side, helping him piece together the fragments of his memory. Every interaction felt like walking on fire, with Joel's behavior making your heart flutter and your mind racing at thousand miles per hour.
As you were changing the bandage on his head, Joel watched you with a soft smile. "You know, you have the gentlest touch. It's like you're an angel sent to take care of me."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, Joel. Making sure your pretty head heals properly."
Joel reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're more than just a nurse to me now. I don't know what it is, but I feel this connection with you. Like we're meant to be."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Joel, a few days ago I was nothing to you. You donât remember me, so please just focus on getting better."
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with earnestness. "I get it, but I can't help how I feel. This connectionâit's real to me, even if I don't remember our past."
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. "Joel, you're vulnerable right now. Your mind is trying to make sense of everything, and it's confusing. We need to take things slow."
Joel nodded reluctantly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pulled it back. "I trust you. Just know that I'm here, and I want to get to know you, past or no past."
You gave him a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, okay? Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."
Just then, Tommy walked in, carrying a tray of food. He cleared his throat, causing you to step back from Joel. "Brought you some lunch, big brother. Howâre you feeling?"
Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of his brother. "Thanks, Tommy. I'm feeling better every day. And with this sunshine here, it's hard not to feel good."
Tommy gave you a knowing look, his concern evident. "Glad to hear it. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" he asked, looking towards you.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Of course, Tommy."
As you stepped outside the room, Tommy closed the door behind you, his expression serious. "How are you holding up?"
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It's... complicated. Joel is so different now. He's kind, attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in me. But he doesn't remember our pastâhow much we clashed."
Tommy nodded, his face lined with concern. "I can see how that would be confusing. But you have to be careful. This might just be his way of coping with the memory loss. He's latching onto the one constant he has right nowâyou."
You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I'm trying to keep my distance, but it's hard. He's... he's different, Tommy. And I can't deny that I'm starting to care for him."
Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I get it. But you need to remember that his memory might come back, and when it does, he could revert to the Joel we knew before. You have to protect yourself, too."
âAm I that unlovable?â you sighed.
Tommy's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not unlovable. Far from it. But the Joel we knew before... he had his walls up, and you know how stubborn he can be. If his memory comes back, he might go back to those old habits, those old defenses."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I understand. It's just... complicated."
Tommy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slow. Don't rush into anything, and remember to take care of yourself too. You suffered a lot before arriving here."
You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tommy. I needed that."
Tommy smiled back. "Anytime."
Returning to Joel's room, you found him sitting up, his eyes lighting up as you walked in. "Hey, everything okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just had a chat with Tommy."
Joel's expression became thoughtful. "You know, I'm really grateful for everything you're doing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like, dealing with me like this."
You sat down beside him, taking a deep breath. "It's not easy, Joel, but it's worth it. You're worth it."
Joel reached out, taking your hand in his. "You know, even though I don't remember everything, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. And I like what I see."
Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. "Joel, we need to take things slow. Focus on your recovery first."
Joel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I understand. But I can't help how I feel."
He has repeated the same phrase as before, and you couldnât help but feel yourself diving into a deep ocean for him.
You squeezed his hand gently. "One step at a time, okay?"
Joel's eyes held a determined glint. "One step at a time."
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Jackson settlement as you walked briskly toward the main gate, your medical bag slung over your shoulder. You spotted Joel waiting for you, his arms crossed and a scowl already etched on his face.
"You're late," he growled as you approached.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm five minutes late, Joel. I had to take care of a kid with a fever."
Joel grunted, clearly unimpressed. "We have a schedule for a reason. Being late puts us at risk."
"Don't lecture me about risk," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "I know the dangers out there just as well as you do."
Joel's eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because sometimes it feels like you're too soft for this world. Always stopping to help every stray animal and sick kid."
"Excuse me for having a heart," you snapped. "Not everyone wants to live like a damn machine."
"Having a heart can get you killed," Joel retorted, his voice rising. "Out there, you need to be tough. Focused."
"And maybe if you lightened up a bit, people wouldn't be so scared of you," you shot back, your frustration boiling over.
Joel took a step closer, his jaw clenched. "I don't care if people are scared of me. I care about keeping them safe. And you, with your bleeding heart, make that harder."
You felt a surge of anger and hurt at his words. "You know what, Joel? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're so wrapped up in your own pain that you can't see anyone else's."
Joel's face darkened, a mix of anger and something elseâsomething like hurtâflashing in his eyes. "You don't know anything about my pain."
"And you don't know anything about mine," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "So maybe you should stop judging me and start seeing that we're all trying to survive in this hell together."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. Then Joel turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Let's just get this patrol over with."
You followed him out of the gate, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions. The silence between you was thick and uncomfortable, but neither spoke. The rift between you seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't see how things would ever change.
You woke up with a pain on your neck. You had fallen asleep on a chair next to Joelâs bed where he was now lay resting, his breathing even and steady. His recovery was going well, but the emotional landscape was far more complex and you wanted to take the risk to discover it. Â
You watched him for a moment, taking a mental picture of his face, the creases on his skin, how peaceful he looked like this. feeling the weight of uncertainty and guilt within you.
In that exact moment, Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his gaze settling on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, sunshine."
"Hey," you replied softly, mirroring his smile "How are you feeling?"
Joel stretched, wincing slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Better. Thanks to you."
You couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing a bit. "Just doing my job, Joel."
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "You're doing more than just your job. You've been taking care of me, looking out for me. I appreciate it."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's what anyone would do."
Joel shook his head slightly. "No, not everyone. You're special, and I... I think Iâm starting to understand that."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. "Joel, you don't need to say that. You're still recovering, and things are confusing right now."
Joel's gaze remained steady, his expression earnest. "I mean it. There's something about you... something that's been here all along, and I was too stubborn to see it."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words, knowing how complicated the situation was. "JoelâŚâ
âDid I care about you before?â he asked, gaze locked with yours.
You shook your head âNo. Not really.â
You shook your head, feeling the sting of the truth. âNo. Not really.â
Joel looked troubled, his brows knitting together. âI find that hard to believe. Because right now, I canât imagine not caring about you.â
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. âThings were different before, Joel. We didnât get along. You were... closed off, and I guess I was just someone who got under your skin.â
Joelâs expression softened with regret. âIâm sorry. For whatever I did to make you feel that way. I wish I could remember, but all I know is that right now, I see you, and I feel... connected.â
A memory from the past surged forward, vivid and painful. It was a cold evening in Jackson, just after a particularly difficult supply run. You and Joel had been at odds all day, and the tension between you was palpable.
"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Joel snapped; his voice harsh as he slammed the door behind him.
You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. "Maybe because you treat me like Iâm incompetent! Iâm trying my best out there, Joel. Weâre supposed to be a team."
Joel scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "A team? Youâre a liability more than anything."
The words cut deep, but you stood your ground. "Thatâs not fair, and you know it. Iâm just trying to help, like everyone else."
Joelâs face twisted with frustration. "Help? You call what you do helping? Itâs a wonder anyone here can stand you."
The hurt was immediate and sharp, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "At least Iâm trying to do something good. You just push everyone away."
Joel stepped closer, his expression dark. "Maybe thereâs a reason for that. I find it hard to believe anyone could actually love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, disbelief and pain warring within you. Without another word, you turned and left, unable to bear the weight of his cruelty.
Back in the present, you blinked, trying to dispel the memory. Joel was watching you closely, concern etched into his features. "Whatâs wrong?"
You forced a smile, though it didnât reach your eyes. "Just... remembering something."
Joel reached out, gently taking your hand. "I wish I could remember too. So, I could make it right."
You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Maybe itâs better this way.
Joel squeezed your hand gently. "A fresh start sounds good. But I still want to know everything. About us, about what I did wrong. So, I can be better."
You nodded, taking the risk and pushing your luck.
You and Joel could become friends, right?
"You and I... we could become friends, right?" you asked.
Joelâs eyes softened even more, and he smiled. "Friends sounds like a good start. We can build from there."
You felt a surge of relief. "Friends it is, then."
The days passed, each one bringing closeness between you and Joel. He had got better, slowly starting to get back to his tasks. The community noticed the change in him, how he was more open and approachable. You often found yourselves working together, whether it was on supply runs or him visiting the infirmary when you were there working.
One afternoon, you were busy organizing medical supplies when Joel walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Hey, need any help in here?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You looked up, smiling back. "Joel, what are you doing here? I thought you were out patrolling.â
Joel shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Finished early. Thought Iâd come by and see if you needed a hand."
He, in fact lied. He switched places with another guy just to spend time with you again. He could feel your fear irradiating but he wanted to get to know you better. He couldnât wrap his mind around the fact he didnât like someone like you and he wanted to change that. Â
You chuckled, shaking your head. " Sure, you can help me with these supplies. There are some boxes that need to be sorted."
Joel rolled up his sleeves and joined you, his presence filling the small room with a comforting warmth. As you worked side by side, you found yourself stealing glances at him, marveling at the changes in him. He was more relaxed, more open, and undeniably more attentive.
"You know," Joel said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I like helping out here more than patrolling."
You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Oh? And why is that?"
Joel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend more time with you."
You blushed, focusing intently on the box in front of you. "Youâre just saying that."
"No, I mean it," Joel replied, his tone sincere. "I like being around you. You make everything better."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "Well, I like having you around too."
The truth was that stealing glances at him now felt like interlocking fingers without even touching his skin, there wasnât precisely a sexual tension or possessiveness over him, but a warm incandescent glow within every time he smiled at you. That was something you hadnât felt in so long, and this time felt so right yet so wrong.
You both continued to work in comfortable silence, the rhythm of your tasks interrupted only by the occasional exchange of smiles or a shared joke. The closeness was undeniable, and you could feel the lines between friendship and something more starting to blur.
One afternoon, you were out on a supply run together, scanning the area for anything useful. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. As you bent down to pick up some supplies, Joel suddenly appeared by your side, his proximity making your heart race.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
You looked up at him, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. "Sure, thanks."
As you both worked, the conversation flowed easily. Joel's presence was comforting, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't before.
"You know, I never really thanked you properly," Joel said, his tone serious.
"For what?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"For saving my life. For being there for me when I needed it the most," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. "You donât need to thank me, Joel. I did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone," he insisted, his gaze intense. "You went above and beyond. You always do."
You blushed, the warmth spreading through you once again. "Well, I care about you. I canât help it."
Joel's expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I care about you too. More than I ever thought possible."
The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken words and emotions. You could feel the pull between you, the undeniable connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
"Joel, this is complicated," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "We need to take things slow."
"I know," he replied, his hand lingering near your face. "But Iâm not going anywhere, but Iâm not going anywhere.â
Joel's feelings for you had grown stronger. He found himself being smitten and completely in love by you, by your beauty, your strength and your soft heart. You were everything that was good with this world. Where everything and everyone was people with shadows dying out of melancholy, you were an angel wrapping your warm arms around him, making his world brighter. He had learnt how to savor the colors again.
As you continued your days together, Joel couldn't help but find ways to be close to you. He would always volunteer to accompany you on supply runs, ensuring you were safe and cared for. He would show up at the infirmary with small gifts â a flower he found on his patrol, a cup of your favorite tea, or a book he thought you might like. His gestures were always thoughtful and sincere, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
Joel couldn't take his eyes off you. You were kneeling in the ground, your hands deftly cleaning something you had found, your face serene and focused. Joel felt a swell of emotion, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "I used to think this world had nothing left to offer. But then I met you."
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "Joel..."
He knelt beside you, his hand covering yours. "You make everything better. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine going back to the way things were."
You felt a mixture of warmth and apprehension. His words were everything you wanted to hear, yet the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your heart. "Joel, this is all so new and complicated. We need to be careful."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes full of determination. "I know it's complicated, and I know we've got a lot to figure out. But I can't ignore what I feel. I want to be here for you, with you, through everything."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I want that too, Joel. But we need to take it one step at a time."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I will make you fall in love with me," he said, his voice full of determination and warmth.
You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"
Joel chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "When it comes to you, I am."
You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. "Let's get back to Jackson," you said, standing up and brushing off your clothes. Joel stood with you, offering a hand to help you up.
As you made your way back to Jackson, the conversation flowed easily. Joel told you stories from before the outbreak, sharing pieces of his past he hadnât opened up about before. You found yourself laughing at his anecdotes, feeling a growing sense of connection.
When you finally reached the gates of Jackson, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the community. People greeted you both warmly, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor. He was more relaxed and more present, and it was clear to everyone that you had a positive influence on him.
Tommy approached, a knowing smile on his face. "Good to see you both back safe and sound."
Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder. "It was a good run. Found some useful supplies."
Tommy nodded, then looked at you. "And how about you? Everything alright?"
You smiled, feeling the warmth of Joelâs gaze on you on your face. "Yeah, everything's good."
As the evening settled in, you and Joel made your way to the communal dining hall. The chatter of the community filled the air, and you found a spot to sit together. Joelâs hand lingered near yours, his touch reassuring and steady.
Tommy, Ellie, and Maria soon joined you at the table. Tommy was carrying a tray laden with food, Ellie trailing behind him with a mischievous grin, and Maria gave you a warm smile as she took a seat.
"Good to see you two back," Elli said, setting down the tray and passing out plates. âHow was the run?" Ellie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"It went well," Joel replied, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he continued. "Found some useful supplies and had some good company."
Ellie smirked, elbowing Tommy. "I bet you did."
You blushed, focusing on your plate as you filled it with food. Maria, ever perceptive, glanced between you and Joel with a knowing smile. "It's good to see everyone together," she said, her tone light and warm.
As you all began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally. Tommy and Maria talked about the latest updates in the community, Ellie shared stories from her day, and Joel occasionally chimed in with his dry humor, making everyone laugh.
At one point, Ellie leaned over to you, her voice low enough so only you could hear. "Joel's been different lately. In a good way. You've been good for him."
You looked at her, surprised by her observation. "I hope so. It's been... a journey."
Ellie nodded, her expression sincere. "Just keep being you. That's all he needs."
The meal continued, filled with warmth and laughter. Joel's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending electricity down your body.
Just as you were starting to relax, a woman approached the table, her presence causing a ripple of unease. It was Lori, one of the women Joel used to date. Joel visibly tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate as Lori stopped beside him, her smile a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.
âJoel," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Joel looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Lori. Uh, hi."
Lori glanced around the table, her eyes settling on you for a moment before she looked back at Joel. "I was just passing by and saw you all together. Mind if I join?"
Before anyone could respond, Tommy jumped in. "Sure, why not? There's always room for one more."
Lori pulled up a chair and sat down, her presence adding a layer of tension to the dynamics. Joel seemed uncomfortable; his usual confidence was replaced by nervous energy.
"So, Joel," Lori began, her tone light but probing. "How have you been? It's been a while."
Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly before answering. "Yeah, it has. I've been... good. Just busy with everything here."
Lori nodded, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "I can see that. Looks like you've made some new friends." She said, bitterly, âThe last time I knew from you was when you left my house after our night, and then you hit your head and never spoke to me again.â
The table fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Joel looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his plate. You could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes as he tried to process Lori's words.
"I'm sorry, Lori," Joel finally said, his voice low. "I don't remember much from before the accident. It's been... complicated."
Lori's expression softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I get that. But it still stings, you know? You just disappeared."
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori but also a fierce protectiveness over Joel. "It's been hard for him,â you said gently, trying to ease the tension. "Joel's been working hard to piece things together. He's different now, and we're all just trying to move forward."
Lori glanced at you, her expression unreadable. "I can see that, but it seems like you had taken advantage of the situation; he couldnât stand your ass before his accident, and suddenly you have him like a little puppy following you everywhere.â
Your heart drops to your stomach, feeling warm spreading to your cheeks.
Joel's jaw tightened, and he quickly interjected, his voice firm. "That's enough, Lori. You don't know what you're talking about."
Lori raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just find it convenient, that's all."
Tommy leaned forward, his tone calm but authoritative. "Lori, we're all trying to move forward here. It's not fair to make accusations."
Ellie, always quick to defend those she cared about, added, "You weren't here to see what she did for Joel. She saved his life and has been helping him every step of the way."
Lori's gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just needed to understand."
Maria nodded, her voice gentle. "We all get that, Lori. It's been a tough situation for everyone."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. "You took a deep breath before continuing. âIâll take some fresh air,â you said, standing up, not even looking down at Joel, who seemed sad at your whole dementor.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. Iâ" you paused, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. "Iâll take some fresh air," you said, standing up abruptly. Avoiding eye contact with Joel, who looked sad and concerned, you made your way outside.
The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you walked a little way from the dining hall, finding a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. You leaned against a tree, closing your eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.
After a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes to see Ellie standing there, her expression filled with concern. "Hey, you okay?"
You nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I just needed a moment. That was a bit embarrassing."
Ellie walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. "Lori was out of line. You've been amazing with Joel. Anyone with eyes can see that."
âSo, donât you think Iâve been taking advantage of him?â You asked, really concerned.
âWhat are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you.â She replied, laughing.
Ellie laughed, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you."
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know, but sometimes it feels like Iâm walking on eggshells. It feels like he is going to wake up from his trance and he will hate me again."
Ellie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I've seen the way he looks at you. Heâs happier, lighter. Youâve brought out a side of him I didnât think existed. And trust me, if he didnât want this, heâd make it clear."
You took a deep breath.
âWhatâs the worst that could happen?â Ellie asked.
âMe, falling in love with him,â you answer.
âWhatâs the worst that could happen?â Ellie asked, her tone light but sincere.
You sighed, the weight of your fears pressing down. âMe, falling in love with him,â you answered quietly.
Ellie gave you a sympathetic look. "And why is that so bad?"
"Because," you began, struggling to put your feelings into words, "what if his memories come back and he realizes he doesnât feel the same way? Or worse, what if I fall in love with him and he changes back to the old Joel, the one who couldnât stand me?"
Ellie nodded, understanding. "That's a risk, sure. But you can't let fear keep you from living. You've been through so much together, and it's clear he cares about you deeply now. Maybe that won't change."
You bit your lip, the turmoil inside you reflected in your eyes. "I just don't want to get hurt, Ellie. And I donât want to hurt him either."
Ellie squeezed your shoulder. "I get it. But if you keep holding back, you'll never know what could be. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith."
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Maybe you're right."
Ellie grinned. "Of course I'm right. Now, let's get back in there. Joel's probably worrying himself sick."
You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, let's go."
As you walked back into the dining hall, you found Joel still sitting at the table, his eyes lighting up when he saw your return. He stood up as you approached, his concern evident.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."
Joel looked relieved, and he gently took your hand. "I'm glad you're back."
The evening continued with easy conversation, and as you all eventually made your way out of the dining hall, Joel walked beside you, his presence a comforting constant.
"Thanks for dinner," he said softly as you approached your door.
"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. "It was nice, being with everyone."
Joel nodded, his eyes lingering on you. "It was. And I meant what I said today. Iâll make you fall in love with me.â
You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at his words. "You're really set on that, aren't you?"
Joel nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of a smile that made you go crazy. "I am. Because I know what I feel now, and Iâm not going to let it slip away."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Joel, this is new for both of us. We need to take it one step at a time."
He took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. âAm I that unlovable?â
You blinked, taken aback by his question. "What? No, Joel, you're not unlovable at all. It's just... complicated."
Joel's eyes softened, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "I get that. But I need you to know that Iâm not going anywhere. Iâll wait as long as it takes."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I appreciate that, Joel. And I do care about you. A lot. It's just..."
"Scary?" he finished for you, his voice gentle.
You nodded.
Joel's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It is scary. But sometimes, the best things come from taking a leap of faith."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "Itâs not just about taking a leap. Itâs about making sure weâre ready for whatever comes next."
Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. And I'm ready to take it slow to give you the space you need. Just know that Iâm here for you, and Iâm not giving up on us."
You felt a mix of relief and trepidation, but Joel's unwavering support gave you strength. "Thank you, Joel. That means a lot to me."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "Weâll figure it out, one step at a time."
You nodded, closing your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself to savor the closeness and the promise of what might come. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Joelâs smileâa smile that made you believe in the possibility of a new beginning.
"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice tender, holding back the desire to cupp your face and kiss you.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, your heart fluttering, feeling the same as him.
Now standing, this close, face to face, skins touching. One of you would give in before, and once that happened, there was no going to be a way to stop two hearts beating this fast.
Joel's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze revealing the depth of his emotions. You could see the conflict within him, the longing that mirrored your own. His hand lingered near your face, his fingers almost brushing against your skin, his breath warm and steady.
The moment felt suspended in time, the air between you charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. You both stood there, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from each other, your hearts racing in sync.
Joelâs voice was barely above a whisper. âI donât want to push you, but I also donât want to pretend like I donât feel this.â
You swallowed, your own voice trembling slightly. âI feel it too, Joel. But we need to be careful.â
Joel nodded, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. âI know. And I want to respect that. I just...â He hesitated, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. âI donât want to miss this chance with you. Iâve never felt this way before.â
Joelâs gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, the desire and uncertainty evident in his expression. His hand gently cupped your face. His touch was tender, as if he were afraid to break the spell that bound you both.
You felt your heart race, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Joelâs fingers brushed softly against your cheek, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His breath grew shallower, and his eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the closeness.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of warmth and affection that sent a shiver down your spine. The moment felt both exhilarating and comforting, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that had been building between you.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving softly against his. The kiss deepened gradually, a sweet exploration of new and uncharted territory. His hands moved to frame your face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were cherishing every second of this newfound closeness.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. The kiss had been more than just a physical connection; it was a promise of something more, something that neither of you fully understood yet but were both eager to explore.
Joelâs smile was tender and full of warmth. âIâve wanted to do that since I woke up that day at the infirmary,â he admitted softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his confession. His words made your heart flutter even more, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm glad you did," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way."
Joel's smile widened, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I didnât want to rush things or push you. But now... now that weâve shared this, I hope we can figure things out together."
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and warmth. "I think we can. I want to see where this leads."
He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "No pressure, just... being here with you."
You smiled, feeling a sense of calm and excitement. "I would like that.â
Joel nodded; his expression full of affection. "Good. Now, how about we get some rest? Tomorrow's a new day, and I want to spend it with you."
You felt a burst of warmth at his words and, inspired by the new closeness between you, you hesitated for just a moment before speaking up. âHow about we go inside for a bit? Iâve got some tea. It might be nice to relax and talk more.â
Joelâs eyes lit up at the invitation, and he nodded with a smile. âThat sounds perfect.â
You led the way to your house, the familiar surroundings now feeling different with Joel by your side. Once inside, you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing the tea. Joel watched you with an easy smile, clearly content.
As you waited for the water to boil, you and Joel chatted about lighter topicsâhow his recovery was going, plans for the community, and small anecdotes from your days. The conversation flowed easily, and the atmosphere between you was comfortable and warm.
When the tea was ready, you poured two cups and handed one to Joel. He took it with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. You both settled into a cozy corner of your living room, the soft light of a lamp casting a gentle glow around the room.
Joel sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally meeting yours. âThis is nice,â he said softly. âThank you for inviting me.â
Joel looked around your living room, the peaceful ambiance a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. He took another sip of his tea, then turned his gaze back to you. âYou know, before all this, I had a pretty normal life. A family, a daughter named Sarah. She was... everything to me.â
His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and you could see the pain in his eyes. You nodded, sensing the weight of his memories. âIâm sorry, Joel. I canât even imagine.â
Joelâs expression was somber but grateful. âThanks. She was everything. When the outbreak happened, she... she didnât make it. Itâs been hard, you know? Trying to keep going and make sense of it all.â
You felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how devastating such a loss could be. âI understand. I lost my fiancĂŠ in a storm during the outbreak. We were caught outside, and he was... gone before I could do anything.â
Joelâs eyes softened with empathy. âThatâs so tough. Iâm really sorry you went through that.â
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own memories. âIt was the storm that made me afraid of them. Every time the weather changes, it reminds me of that day. I try not to let it control me, but sometimes, itâs hard.â
Joel reached out, placing his hand gently on yours. âIâm sorry youâve had to deal with that. Itâs brave of you to face it every day.â
You looked at his hand on yours, feeling a comforting warmth from his touch. âItâs been a struggle, but having people like you around makes it a little easier.â
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. âWe all have our battles. But weâve found ways to keep moving forward. And maybe together, we can make those battles a little less daunting.â
+++++
The days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Joel grew stronger. The bond you shared was evident in the way you looked at each other and the ease with which you interacted. People in Jackson had noticed the change in both of you, and there was a sense of warmth and contentment surrounding your partnership.
One afternoon, as you were working in the infirmary, organizing supplies and checking on patients, Joel walked in. He had that familiar, easy smile on his face, and his presence was a comforting one amidst the hectic pace of the medical work.
âHey,â he said, leaning against the doorway. âThought Iâd stop by and see how youâre doing.â
You looked up, your face lighting up at the sight of him. âHey, Joel. Just busy as usual. Howâs everything on the patrol?â
Joel shrugged, walking over to where you were working. âNot too bad. But I figured Iâd come by and keep you company. I know youâve been spending a lot of time here.â
You nodded, your smile softening. âYeah, Iâve been needed here more often lately. But itâs good to see you.â
Joel moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. âIâve missed you. Itâs different when youâre not around.â
You felt a surge of affection at his words. âIâve missed you too. But this is important. People need help, and I want to make sure Iâm here for them.â
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. âI get it. Just remember to take care of yourself too. Iâd hate to see you running on empty.â
You chuckled, appreciating his concern. âIâll try. But having you here now brought a smile to my face.â
He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. âWell, Iâm glad to be here. Can I help with anything?â
You thought for a moment, then nodded. âActually, if you could help me restock some of these supplies, that would be great.â
Joel moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he began helping with the supplies. The shared task created a comfortable silence between you, with only the soft sounds of organizing supplies filling the space.
As you worked side by side, Joelâs gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made your heart race. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The kiss was a sweet proof the connection you shared, and you responded with equal tenderness, savoring the closeness.
Just as the kiss deepened, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Dr. Ramirez walked in. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and Joel but quickly masked her surprise with a professional smile.
âSorry to interrupt,â she said, her tone warm but slightly teasing. âI came to check on things and see if you needed any help.â
You and Joel pulled away; a bit flustered but smiling nonetheless. âWe were just finishing up,â you said, trying to sound casual. âEverythingâs in order.â
Dr. Ramirez nodded, her gaze flicking between you and Joel with a knowing look. âAlright, if you need anything, just let me know.â
As she moved to her office, you glanced at Joel, your cheeks still slightly flushed. âWell, that was embarrassing.â
Joel chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. âYeah, but I guess itâs a good thing everyone know youâre my girl.â
You looked up at Joel, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I suppose it is. Itâs nice to be able to be open about us."
Joelâs expression softened; his gaze warm. âIt is. And Iâm glad we donât have to hide anymore.â
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a sense of contentment. âMe too. It makes everything feel more real, more... solid.â
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. âDo you want to have dinner at my place?â he asked.
You looked up at Joel, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of spending more time together. âDinner at your place sounds wonderful. Iâd love that.â
Joelâs face lit up with a warm smile. âGreat. Iâll make sure to have something good ready for us.â
You both made your way to Joelâs place, the evening air cool and crisp. The walk was filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, a comforting routine that had become a cherished part of your days.
When you arrived at Joelâs house, he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. The interior was cozy, with soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. He led you to the kitchen, where a simple but inviting dinner was laid out on the table.
Joelâs cooking was surprisingly good, and as you enjoyed the meal together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothingâyour favorite memories, plans for the future, and the little things that made you both laugh.
After dinner, you moved to the living room, where Joel had set up a comfortable spot with blankets and pillows. You both settled in, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
Joel looked at you with a soft smile. âIâm really glad youâre here.â
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. âMe too. Tonight has been perfect.â
He wrapped his arm around you, his touch warm and reassuring. âHereâs to many more nights like this.â
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. âIâd like that.â
As the evening wore on, you both talked about your past experiences and shared stories from before the outbreak. Joel spoke about his life before everything changedâhis family, the dreams he had, and the struggles he faced. You shared your own experiences, including the loss of your fiancĂŠ and the challenges of adapting to this new world alone.
Joel listened intently, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to reassure you. âItâs amazing how much weâve both been through,â he said softly. âAnd yet, here we are.â
You nodded, feeling a deep connection. âYeah. It feels like weâre building something meaningful despite everything.â
After some time, you both decided it was time to call it a night. You stood up, stretching slightly as you gathered your things. Joel walked with you to the door, his presence a comforting constant.
As you reached the door, Joel hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you with a mix of hesitation and hope in his eyes. âI was wondering⌠would you like to spend the night here? Itâs been nice having you around, and Iâd love to have you stay.â
You looked at him, surprised but touched by the invitation. The warmth in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice made it hard to resist.
âIâd like that,â you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.
Joelâs expression brightened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug. âGreat. Letâs get you settled in.â
Joel led you to his bedroom, a space that felt both lived-in and welcoming. The room was simple but comfortable, with a bed covered in worn but clean linens and a few personal touches that spoke to Joelâs characterâphotos of his family, a well-loved guitar leaning against the wall, and a small stack of books on the bedside table.
He gestured to the bed with a slightly sheepish grin. âSorry, itâs not much, but itâs home.â
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance. âItâs perfect.â
Joel nodded, his expression softening. âIâm glad you think so.â
You both prepared for bed in comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine helping to ease any lingering tension. Joel showed you where you could find anything you might needâextra blankets, a lamp for reading, and a small cabinet for any personal items you might want to keep nearby.
As you both settled into the bed, Joel turned off the lights, leaving only a soft glow from a nightlight on the dresser. He slipped under the covers, and you followed suit, the warmth and comfort of the bed providing a welcome respite from the dayâs events.
Joel turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. âIâm really glad youâre here,â he said softly, his voice tender.
You smiled, feeling a sense of peace as you settled closer to him. âMe too. It feels right.â
He reached out and gently took your hand, interlocking your fingers. The simple gesture was filled with meaning, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger.
âGoodnight,â Joel whispered, his voice carrying a note of affection.
âGoodnight,â you replied, your heart fluttering with contentment.
A few days later, you and Ellie were seated at a table in the bustling dining hall, enjoying a well-deserved lunch. The room was filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of utensils, creating a comforting background noise.
Ellie, always full of energy, was animatedly talking about a new comic sheâd found. âYou wonât believe this,â she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, âbut this one hero has the power to control weather. Iâm telling you, if I had that power, Iâd totally make it sunny all the time.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âSounds like youâve been reading too many comics. But I suppose a bit of sunshine wouldnât hurt.â
Ellie grinned, grabbing a bite of her sandwich. âTrue, true. But, seriously, how are things going with Joel? You two seem... really happy.â
You smiled, feeling a warm flush at her question. âWe are. Itâs been nice, spending time together. Heâs been really supportive, and I think weâre figuring things out.â
Ellieâs eyes lit up, clearly pleased with your answer. âIâm glad to hear that. Heâs been a lot happier since you two started spending more time together. Itâs like heâs found a new spark.â
You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. âItâs been good for both of us. Weâre still taking things one step at a time, but it feels right.â
Ellieâs expression turned thoughtful. âI know itâs been rough with everything thatâs happened, but itâs nice to see people finding happiness again. Especially you and Joel.â
You appreciated Ellieâs support and her ability to lighten the mood. âThanks, Ellie. That means a lot.â
Ellie glanced around the dining hall, then back at you with a mischievous grin. âSo, are you guys planning any big adventures together? Or just sticking to the small stuff for now?â
You laughed softly. âWeâre sticking to the small stuff for now. Just enjoying the moments, we have together.â You paused, âIâm still a little bit scared of him waking up hating me again.â
Ellieâs eyes softened with understanding. âI get that. Itâs natural to be scared after everything youâve both been through. But youâre doing great, and Joel is different now. Heâs not going to just wake up one day and hate you.â
You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering concern in your expression. âI hope youâre right. Sometimes, itâs hard to shake that fear, especially after everything thatâs happened.â
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. âI think you both just need to keep talking and being honest with each other. The more you communicate, the more youâll build that trust. And remember, itâs okay to have those fears. It just means you care.â
You managed a small smile. âThanks, Ellie. Itâs reassuring to hear that.â
Ellie grinned and took a bite of her lunch. âAnytime. And if you ever need someone to talk to or just need a distraction, you know Iâm here. We can have a comic marathon or something.â
You laughed, feeling the warmth of Ellieâs support. âThat sounds like a plan. Iâll definitely take you up on that.â
As you and Ellie finished your lunch, you stood up to clear your plates, the conversation easing into a comfortable silence. Just as you were about to head to the serving area, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a warm embrace. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on your cheek, making you feel a surge of happiness and surprise.
You turned your head slightly, finding Joelâs smiling face close to yours. âHey there,â he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. âI didnât mean to interrupt, just wanted to steal a moment with you.â
Ellie watched with a grin, clearly pleased with the sight. âLooks like someoneâs got a fan club.â
You blushed slightly, leaning into Joelâs embrace. âHi, Joel. I was just catching up with Ellie.â
Joelâs gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your side. âI figured Iâd come and see how you were doing. Plus, I wanted to see if youâd be up for a walk later.â
You smiled, feeling content in his arms. âA walk sounds nice. Iâd love that.â
Joel nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. âGreat. Letâs finish up here and head out.â
You and Joel exchanged a tender glance before you both started to clear your plates. Ellie gave you both a playful nudge. âIâll leave you two to your walk. Enjoy, and remember, Iâm always here if you need me.â
+++++++++++++
âSo?â you asked, as Joel was smiling in complete silence.
âSo what?â he asked without erasing that smile from his face.
âArenât you going to talk?â
Joel chuckled, his smile widening. âI guess Iâm just enjoying the moment. Itâs not every day I get to be this content.â
You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. âOh really? And whyâs that?â
He looked at you, his gaze tender. âBecause being with you like this, just walking and talking, itâs exactly what Iâve wanted. Itâs simple and perfect.â
You smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. âWell, Iâm glad youâre enjoying it. So, whatâs on your mind?â
Joel glanced around, taking in the scenery before meeting your eyes again. âI was thinking about how nice would be if you go to my place tonight. Ellieâs gonna spend the night with Dina and I want to spend the night with you.â
âThat sounds wonderful,â you said with a smile. âIâd love to spend the night with you.â
Joelâs face lit up with a genuine smile, and he took your hand, gently squeezing it. âGreat. I was hoping youâd say that.â He leaned and kiss you on the lips, âNo I gotta go helping Tommy, see you later, sunshineâ
You pouted, grabbing his hand before he could go anywhere âWait? That was all?â
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. âI thought Iâd surprise you with the invitation, and I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy spending time with you.â
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. âWell, I didnât realize the evening was just an invitation and a kiss goodbye.â
Joel grinned, clearly amused. âAlright, alright. If you want more, I guess Iâll have to come up with something better.â He pulled you into another kiss, this one longer and more lingering.
You smiled against his lips as you pulled away. âThatâs more like it. But seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with you.â
Joelâs gaze softened, and he cupped your face gently. âIâm looking forward to it too. Just had to help Tommy out with something. I promise, Iâll make up for it.â
You nodded, still holding onto his hand. âIâll hold you to that. See you later, Joel.â
He gave you one last smile before heading out, leaving you with a warm feeling and the anticipation of the evening ahead.
+++++++++++++
When you arrived at Joel's place, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the surroundings. Joel greeted you at the door with a welcoming smile and a quick, affectionate kiss.
"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, taking your coat and hanging it up. "Iâve got a few things planned, but we can start with something simple if youâd like."
You stepped inside, feeling the comforting familiarity of Joelâs home. âIâm sure whatever youâve got planned will be perfect,â you replied, smiling at him.
Joel led you into the living room, where heâd set up a cozy area with blankets and cushions. The room was softly lit by lamps, and the atmosphere was inviting and warm. A few candles were flickering on the coffee table, casting a gentle glow.
âI figured we could start with some dinner and then maybe just talk or something elseâ Joel suggested, his eyes reflecting the soft light.
You nodded, feeling content with the simple but thoughtful setup. âThat sounds great.â
Joel moved to the kitchen and returned shortly with a plate of homemade foodâsomething comforting and hearty. He set it down on the table, then joined you on the couch.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily, just like it had during your earlier moments together. You talked about your days, your plans, and even some light-hearted topics. Joelâs presence was reassuring, and you felt completely at ease.
After dinner, Joel suggested putting on some music. He rummaged through his collection, finally settling on a classic that he thought youâd enjoy. You both snuggled up under the blankets, the music playing softly in the background.
Joel occasionally glanced at you, his hand resting casually on your knee. The song played, but most of your attention was focused on the comfort of being next to him, the warmth of his touch, and the quiet contentment that filled the room.
Joel turned to you, his gaze tender. âYou know, Iâm really glad weâre doing this. Just being here with you, it feels right.â
You smiled, leaning into him. âI feel the same way.â
Joelâs hand moved to gently brush your hair back from your face. âWhatâs your biggest fear?â he asked out of the blue?
You sighed, leaving his gaze for a moment âYou waking up and forgetting you love meâ
Joelâs brow furrowed slightly at your answer, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. âWhy would you think that? I donât see any reason why that would happen.â
You took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as you shared your fear. âItâs justâŚ.you knew I told you we didnât get along before, in fact you hated me, Joel.â
Joelâs eyes softened as he listened to your concern. He took a moment before responding, his voice steady and reassuring. âI know things werenât easy between us before. And yeah, I didnât handle things the best way back then. But thatâs in the past. What matters now is how we are right now.â
He reached out and gently took your hand in his. âThe truth is, Iâve changed. And I see you differently now. I see you for who you are, and I realize how much you mean to me. Whatever those old feelings were? Theyâre gone. What we have now is real, and Iâm committed to it.â
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. âBut what if one day you wake up and those old feelings come back? What if something changes?â
Joel shook his head, his gaze intense and full of conviction. âI donât believe thatâll happen. Iâve come to understand how much you mean to me, and how deeply I care about you.â
He squeezed your hand gently, his expression earnest. âIâm not going to let those fears control us. Weâre building something strong, and I want to keep building it with you. Iâm here, and Iâm committed to making sure we have a future together.â
You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words. âThank you, Joel. That really means a lot to me.â
Joel smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. âIâm glad. And if you ever need reassurance, just ask. Iâm always here to remind you of how much you mean to me.â
You nestled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of comfort and closeness. The fears that had been troubling you began to fade as you focused on the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice.
Joelâs gaze lingered on yours, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and resolve. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a careful exploration of newfound trust and affection.
As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, conveying all the emotions and reassurances that words alone couldnât fully capture. Joelâs hand cupped your face, his touch warm and reassuring as he pressed closer.
You responded to the kiss, your own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss felt like a promise, a shared understanding of where you both stood and where you hoped to go.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads touching as you gazed into each otherâs eyes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment of closeness.
Joelâs smile was soft, his voice barely more than a whisper. âI needed to do that. To show you just how much you mean to me.â
You smiled back, your heart full. âI needed that too.â
Joel gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
After that, everything happened in a flash. Neither of you realized when you removed your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch; you wanted to discover how his fingers could leave a mark on you, tracing invisible lines across your body.
He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldnât stop.
With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldnât get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldnât get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.
He was hovering over you, giving you a passionate kiss. He was between your legs, exactly where you wanted him.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at you. To appreciate the features of your face and the nature of your body to admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.
âYou look beautifulâ. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.
You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs with his gently touch, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.
And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to everything you had experiencing before. At this moment, you werenât driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You werenât in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.
This time he was making love because he had drowned himself on your religion.
Both of you gasped aloud the moment he began to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours, interlocking them as he kissed you softly, muttering, "You're so beautiful like this". He was mesmerized by the way you were nervously giggling and cocking your head back in delight. He bit your neck, prompting your hands to move up to his neck, and his hands ran down your entire body without a layer of clothing on you, focusing on every thrust and diving deep to ensure he was making you happy.
You opened your eyes and stared back at him, entirely focused on you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as his hands massaged your breasts while he continued to devour your lips. Your back arched, followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so fantastic, you couldn't help but think you were in the celestial realm You could tell you were getting closer as you squeezed him and kept your gaze fixed on each other. He pushed harder, one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping your knee to guarantee you fell apart.
The noises you made drove him insane, as he felt himself reaching the edge of the cliff. He wanted to stare at you under him as you came and with a loud gasp, he did it at the same time falling over your exposed chest, your heartbeats mingling.
You moaned softly beneath him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, flashing him a cute smile he hadn't tired of, as you kissed him on the lips.
"I love you so much," he replied, gazing at you with admiration. âIâm so in love with you.â
I love you.
Iâm so in love with you.
Those three words were echoing in the shadows of your mind. Your expression softened and you felt your blood rushing. You were sure they had had an impact on you.
âAnd I love you so muchâ you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your emotion.
Joelâs expression softened even further, and he brushed a tender kiss against your lips once more. The connection between you was undeniable, a blend of passion and deep affection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you. The world outside seemed distant and unimportant in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and you allowed yourself to fully embrace the love and happiness you had found with Joel.
Joel gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing. âWeâve come a long way, havenât we?â
You nodded, your eyes closing as you savored the moment. âYeah, we have. And I wouldnât change a thing.â
Joelâs arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. âNeither would I. Hereâs to more moments like this, and to whatever the future holds for us.â
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment and anticipation for what was to come. âTo us,â you agreed, your heart full of love and hope.
+++++++++++
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred, waking up with a smile on your face. The previous nightâs intimacy and love still lingered, and you turned to look at Joel. He was sleeping peacefully beside you, a contented expression on his face.
As you watched him, you felt a surge of happiness and affection. You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart full of love for him.
But as Joelâs eyes fluttered open and he met your gaze, his expression shifted dramatically. His sparkly brown eyes filled with love, widened in horror, and a look of confusion and fear crossed his face. He pushed himself up, scrambling back slightly.
âWhat...What the fuck are you doing here?â he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and fear.
You were taken aback, your smile faltering as you tried to make sense of his reaction. âJoel, whatâs wrong?â
No. It couldnât be that, right?
Joelâs eyes were filled with a pained realization. âOh my god, you came to my house trying to seduce me into sleeping with you?â
You felt a sharp pang of pain at his words, and your heart dropped. The warmth you had felt earlier was replaced by a cold, unsettling feeling.
âNo, Joel, thatâs not what happened,â you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. âWeâre in loveâ
He chuckled. âIn love? Me in love with you? I could neverâ he said.
Your chest tightened, and the hurt in Joelâs words felt like a physical blow. You struggled to keep your composure, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
âJoel, you canât mean that,â you said, your voice shaking. âLast night, you said you loved me. We shared something real.â
Joelâs expression was a mix of confusion and pain. âI donât remember saying that. Last night I was with Loriâ
Thatâs it. You were back at were you used to be.
The weight of Joelâs words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of betrayal and heartache, as the realization sank in. The warmth and affection from the night before felt like a cruel illusion.
âSo, what? Youâre saying last night meant nothing?â you asked. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. âYou really donât remember? You donât remember how we talked, how you told me you loved me?â
âI donât love you.â He said, sternly.
âBut Iâm your sunshineâ you sobbed.
Joelâs laughter pierced through you like a blade, and you could barely stand the weight of the realization. Each word he spoke seemed to tear away at the fabric of your heart, unraveling the dream youâd clung to so desperately.
The room felt colder, the air heavier, as you fought to control your sobs. Every touch, every shared moment that had once seemed so real was now reduced to nothing more than painful echoes of a memory that never truly existed.
He didnât remember the stealing glances, the kisses, the touches and the promises than now seemed to fade with the cruel destiny meeting the ending meant to be.
You had taken a risk at falling in love with the version of a Joel who loved you back, and he didnât exist anymore. He had faded just when he had told you he loved you.
He didnât remember falling in love with you, he didnât remember all the time you spent together, and he didnât remember loving you, but you didnât think this would hurt this much.
âJoelâ you said, pleading him to remember.
âOut.â He said, gritting his teeth. Â
You stood there, the pain in your chest almost unbearable, as Joel's harsh words echoed around you. The warmth and affection you had shared just hours before now seemed like a cruel illusion, shattered by his denial.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice trembling. "Just think about everything we shared. It was real."
Joelâs eyes were hard, and he crossed his arms defensively. âI don't remember any of it. And I can't fake feelings I don't have.â
You felt a deep, profound sadness, the weight of his words making it almost impossible to breathe. The life you had envisioned, the love you had felt, seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers.
âPlease, justââ you tried to reason with him, but the look in his eyes made it clear that any further pleading was futile.
Joelâs expression remained firm, a mix of regret and frustration. âEverything I know is that you took advantage of me.â
The sting of Joel's words cut deep, each one echoing the finality of a dream you had cherished. The accusation of taking advantage of him felt like a betrayal, intensifying the emotional agony you were already struggling with.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the fragments of your composure. "Joel, I never did that. We have somethingâ"
Joel interrupted; his voice cold. "I donât want to hear it. You need to leave. Now."
The finality in his tone left no room for argument. With a heart heavy with sorrow, you nodded, unable to find the words that might change his mind.
You were only on one of his shirts, trying to find your clothes.
You stumbled through the room, your movements disjointed as you searched for your clothes. The pain and confusion made every action feel like an immense effort. Joelâs gaze remained fixed on you, his face a mask of distant resolve.
You found your jeans, but it was crumpled and stained, and you struggled to put it on with trembling hands. The fabric felt rough against your skin, a stark contrast to the comfort you had felt just hours before. You glanced around for your other belongings, the room now feeling foreign and unwelcoming.
âI... I canât find my blouse,â you said again, your voice a whisper filled with desperation and trembling.
Joelâs eyes flicked to you briefly before he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. âDonât worry about it. Just wear my shirt. I wonât wear it again.â His voice was cold and icy, not more softness as when they used to whisper things on your ear.
The coldness in his words made it clear that there was no room for negotiation or further conversation. You nodded numbly, the shirt you were already wearing now feeling like a heavy shroud setting your skin on fire.
As you finished dressing, you glanced around the room one last time, trying to memorize the space you were leaving behind. The sight of the room, so filled with the promise you fooled yourself onto believing.
There was an intensified the ache in your chest.
Joel stood by the door, his posture rigid as if he were bracing himself for something. His eyes didnât meet yours, focusing instead on some distant point. The silence between you was heavy with the weight of the broken bond that never existed.
As you pulled on your shoes, your heart cracked completely sank in deeper. You looked up, meeting Joelâs eyes one last time.
âJoel, Iâm sorry for everything,â you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. âI never meant to cause any harm. I just wantedââ
Joel cut you off with a slight nod, his face still set in a hard expression. âJust go. Please.â
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost making it impossible to speak. The intensity of Joel's gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and indifference, made it clear that any further words would be futile.
With one last, lingering look at him and the room that just yesterday had witnessed three empty words that now didnât meant anything, you turned and made your way down the hall. Each step felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the burden of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your heart.
As you reached the front door, the cool morning air hit you, providing a stark contrast to the warmth you had felt just hours before. The quiet outside was a jarring reminder of the world that continued, indifferent to the personal turmoil you were experiencing.
With every step, you tried to reconcile the reality you faced with the memories of what you had thought was true, a momentary field of dreams. The pain was sharp and immediate. How would you continue life after losing another love?
+++++++
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascar character imagine#pedro pascal#joel miller smut
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđđđđđ | Joel Miller x reader â Series Masterlist (part ii)

â masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.
author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry
word count â11k
PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)
The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your motherâs voice as you approach the doorstep of the Millerâs home. Itâs fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.
Cut it out.Â
Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundaysâstarched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots.Â
The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldnât hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.
Once inside, youâre already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, thereâs a creak to your left and a voice you hadnât heard since the night before, underâŚmore nefarious pretenses. But, he didnât know that. You shouldnât either.
Your eyes canât meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesnât speak to you, but he does look you over. Thereâs a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.
âSheâll come with,â You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joelâs tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, âI donât need her being a nuisance while Joelâs trying to sleep.â
âShe lives here,â Tommy points out, âIâm sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?â
âNo,â you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, âIâd really rather not, if thatâs okay.â
Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before heâs cracking a joke at Joelâs expense, who still hadnât spoken a word.
âKeep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,â Tommy jests.
âWell, weâll be out until the evening,â your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasnât nearly the case, in factâit was a heavy weight off your chest, âso call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.â
âSheâll be alright,â Joel interjects suddenly, âainât never caused any problems with me.â
Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, sheâs dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.
The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silenceâgirl, always testinâ meâit was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.
You had to cut the cordâthis wasnât you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didnât matter that it didnât feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, heâd lied for you when he didnât have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be.Â
Joel clears his throat, âIâm gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and Iâm barely standinâ right now,â Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, âyou gonna be alright?â
You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like nowâsay it, just apologize.
âJoel,â you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, âIâyou lied for me to my mother, you didnât have to and IâmâŚsorry for the way Iâve been acting. I know that doesnât change anything, but Iââ
Thereâs a flickering of guilt across his own face that youâre familiar with, knowing heâs dreamt of you in the exact ways youâve suggested and while he doesnât audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.
âNo harm done,â He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you donât react, neither does he, âno sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?â
âRight,â you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, âjustâŚthank you.â
âYouâre welcome,â he replies assuredly, knowing heâd done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situationâbut just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.
Save your own ass and all that.
It didnât matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.
Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.
-
Thereâs only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joelâs home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, youâre restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.
Thereâs a few reclining lawn chairs on Joelâs back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldnât be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didnât matter.Â
You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.
It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that werenât possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other thingsâlike him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.
You knew you werenât going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldnât bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her nowâin due time, you think.Â
Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor.Â
But even then, you donât move.
You know itâs Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you.Â
He doesnât say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and heâs only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.
âWas I being too loud?â
Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, âNo. Wasnât you.â
Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.
âJust my back,â you explain, âI canât reach it. WellâI can, but Iâm definitely missing some spots.â
Joelâs fingers curl around the bottle but he doesnât pull and your fingers havenât left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration.Â
âJoel, it isnât a trick,â you promise, âbesides, with your hands itâll take like, two seconds.â
He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.
âOh, come on,â You beg, âItâs sunscreen, get over it.â
There it was. The snark you couldnât hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.
Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. Heâs pathetic and he knows it.Â
He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldnât be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine.Â
You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before heâs tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.
A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before theyâre back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.
âYouâre tense, kid,â Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.
âWith a mother like mine, wouldnât you be?â
Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.
He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.
âCanât stand getting a little messy, can you?â You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.
What a little shit.Â
His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.
The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgottenâit couldnât be that simple.
Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.
But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.
Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.
There it wasâhis eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way.Â
Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired.Â
It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozyâyou turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.
He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldnât lieâwondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.
But instead, you hide.
Decisive and calculated, youâd wait him out.
Like meek prey, heâd seek you out if the hunger struck.Â
â
After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinnerâyou couldnât speak to Joel, wouldnât.Â
He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.
Sort of.
It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.
 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your motherâs lips as she ate.
âShe wasnât feeling too good,â Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, âI can bring her a plate up later, after I clean upââ
âOh, please,â She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, âweâll clean up, wonât we?â
Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless.Â
Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.
Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon.Â
He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before heâs yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.
Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before theyâre flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.
Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. Heâs changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.
Relaxed. He looksâŚrelaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and heâs still standing, waitingâfor what, youâre not sure.
âIâll eat it later,â you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, âI will, I promiseââ
You werenât lying, you would.Â
But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too.Â
Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, youâre sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didnât seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.
âDonât apologize,â you began before he could get the words out, âgodâdonât, justâŚâ
âI was gonna ask if youâre feelinâ alright,â Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.
You nod lazily, âHow was dinner?â
He knows youâre not asking about the food.
âTypical,â He responds lightly, âyour mom loves carryinâ the conversation, doesnât she?â
âShe just enjoys the sound of her own voice.â
Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.
âGot all the sunscreen off finally,â You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joelâs mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, âdid you enjoy your shower?â
Joel quirks his brow, curious.
Right, he didnât know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.
âYou know, was itâŚpeaceful? Nice?âÂ
No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlierâand felt it just the same.
His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.
He was losing his mind, surely.
He shouldnât be doing this, shouldnât have sat down.Â
But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.
âI lied for you, again,â He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, âmakinâ habit of it, it seems.â
A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, âYou were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?â
His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, âYou know I never meant it like thatââ
âDidnât you?â You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.
Our secret, alright?
It was the gatewayâone small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature.Â
âWhy are you still here?â Thereâs a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joelâs hard-headed.Â
So, he retaliates.
âWhy havenât you asked me to leave?â His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.
The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you canât force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.
You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesnât stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, âYouâve been drinking,â it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, âhavenât you?â
âThat bother you?â He wondersâheâs mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, heâs just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.
A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joelâs neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.
âWhat are you doing?â You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him.Â
It doesnât even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.
âGiving you what you want,â Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, ââsâwhat you wanted, right?â
You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.
At the notion, his hands are in two different directionsâone hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until theyâre finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until heâs back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.
Heâs not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didnât shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.
Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.
âShh,â He reminds you, a soft command, âdonât need them gettinâ curious.â
You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, âMoâMore,â You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before theyâre breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.
âTake it off,â He demands, âwanna see those pretty tits, darlinâ.â
Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legsâ
God, heâs going to hell.
And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, heâs got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips.Â
Itâs intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. Heâs speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. Theyâre goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you canât commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.
Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, âTouch yourself,â He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before youâre squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.
He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasnât catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.
The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on himâback to reality.
âHowâs that for a mess?â Joel doesnât miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.
You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, âEat your damn dinner,â He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.
âNo problem,â You appease him, âand a suggestionââ
Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you arenât amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.
âDouble check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.â
Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.
Joelâs flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, âGoodnight, Joel.â
Joelâs never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable.Â
â
Breakfast is quiet.
Too quiet.
You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.
âI was thinking we could do something in town today,â She begins, âall of usâJoel, too. Tommy mentioned theyâve got a fair going on downtownâfood, music, plenty to keep you interested.â
You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, âWhatâs the occasion? Big news? Donât tell me your pregnantââ
Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, âThat is notâno, Iâm not. But, Tommy and IâŚmay have put an offer down on a house, if youâre that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.â
You shake your head nonchalantly, âJoel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns overâI forgot to ask, but you donât care, right?â
Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.
âI mean, Iâll be with Joel,â You remind her, âIâll be safe, wonât I?â
Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joelâs surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.
âI shoulda mentioned it,â He lies through his teeth, âslipped my mind, but itâs alright with you?â
She swallows. Tense.Â
Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brotherâs shoulder.
âHistory of cowboys?â He asks, âOh come on, sweetheart. Let âem go, they can always meet up with us after.â
She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brotherâs with a cynical regard, catching Joelâs tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.
 It wasnât the worst thing youâve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joelâs walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.
With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but youâre stopped by Joelâs foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.
âYou make plans for somethinâ Iâm unaware of?âÂ
You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before youâre climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.
His touch is intimateâand warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then heâs inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.
But, like a fragile towerâthe moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.
âStop,â he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, âyouâwe canât keep doinâ this, kid.â
âNo oneâs here,â you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesnât budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, âif you worried about getting caught.â
âI know youâre doing this to get back at your mother,â Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.
âAnd if I was doing this for me?â You counter, âBecause I want to? What would you say then?â
Thereâs a long beat of silence, Joelâs hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.
âNaive,â He offers, âchildishâdownright stupid, if you think about it. Iâm twice your age and if the other reason wasnât obvious, wellââ
âWeâre not blood related,â you argue, âit isnât nearly the same thing and you know it.â
You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant.Â
âBesides, I think youâve ruined all other men for me,â You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, âyour fingersâJoel, theyâreââ
At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.
âIâm not the one, darlinâ. You canât compare me to themâIâm old, Iâve lived. Donât think you gotta settle for me.â
Joel has sequestered himself to lonelinessâafter his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone.Â
Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, heâs found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.
He didnât regret youâhis actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.
But youâre sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that lookâmore, give me more.
Nothing would satiate that hunger.
âIâm not a virgin, you know,â you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, âI think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid Iâd turn out like her.â
Luckily, you hadnât. Sheâd never let you live that down.
You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joelâs throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, âDo you wanna ruin me, Joel?â
All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.
It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.
âUpstairs,â he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, âin your room, now.â
The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you werenât going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.
-
He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as heâs stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasnât wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didnât stray too far again.
âShould I say my morning prayers?â You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, âAbsolve you of some guilt?â
âIt ainât guilt,â Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, âyou really think all that prayinâ actually works?â
You shrug, âI dunno what I think anymoreâwhat do you believe in, Joel?â
Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.
âAinât never believe in nothing,â He responds quieter, âeasier that way.â
You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving youâwandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.
âCome on, Joel,â You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, âEasier?â
âYouâre brainwashed,â He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, âcanât think for yourself without feelinâ guilt, can you?â
Heâs making a mockery of the beliefs youâve been under for yearsâyou get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.
âIf we confess our sins, he is faithful and justââ Your voice wavers as Joelâs attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, â and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousnââ
A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.
A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.
âAinât gonna listen to that shit,â Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, ââyou done?â
You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.
âThereâs no savinâ yourself from this, sweetheart,â Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow throughâthat you wanted this.
âI know,â You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.
Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.
His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, âGo on,â Joel taunts, âkeep prayinâ.â
Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighterâyou make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.
âDonât try and convince me you believe that shit,â Joel tells you, ânot when youâre begginâ me to fuck you like thisââve never been a saint, either.â
Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didnât belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man whoâs challenged every belief youâve ever known.
He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.
âJust this time,â He promises you, âno more teasinâ, or lyingââ
The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that youâve learned his weakness.
Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.
âAnother secret?â You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow whoâs always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joelâs hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.
You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way youâve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering.Â
He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as heâd like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.
A shower would work for now, though.Â
Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.
-
There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to lightâyour mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down.Â
It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.
And he, of course, couldnât even follow through with his own promise to himself.
Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesnât always seem likeâŚJoel.
He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you arenât buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when youâre both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.
He doesnât seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.
It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then heâs seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.
But, he does sense your hesitancy.
âIâll go,â He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, âif you want me to.â
Youâve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you donât pry.
âNo, no,â You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, âyou justâyou seem tired.â
It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesnât touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. Heâd come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldnât be ignored.
âJust sleep here,â You suggest, âIâll wake you early, before theyâre up.â
Without protest, he nods.
You canât explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something youâve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.
â
âHey, kiddo,â Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before youâre gone for another week, âschool treatinâ you alright?â
âItâs fine,â You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, âhowâs mom?â
Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, âStressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya knowââ
âYeah,â Itâs lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, âuh, can I ask a question, actually?â
Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house.Â
âIsâŚJoel okay?âÂ
Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.
âOh, heâŚusually getsâŚworse around the anniversary of Sarahâs death,â Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, âshitâwe ainât mentioned her to you?â
You shake your head.
âShe died about five years ago, raisinâ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dyingâŚitâs been hard.â
âHis daughter?â
He had a daughter.
Iâm old, Iâve lived, the words echoing in your head.
âHeâŚnever mentioned her, youâve neverâŚâ
âHe wonât,â Tommy tells you, âcanât even bring her up to him most daysâI thought Iâd mentioned it to you but it mustâve slipped my mind, Iâm sorry, kiddo.â
âNo, donâtâŚdonât apologize.â You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, âI guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.â
And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.
Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, heâs always been aware of his brotherâsâŚproblem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.
In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.
âHave a good week,â He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, ââyou should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.â
Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before heâs interrupted by another shout from your mother, âI can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Donât worry.â
Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you arenât able read through it until later that night, Joelâs unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.
It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feetâbut more importantly it was an escape.Â
You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but heâs sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months heâs been around you both.Â
You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith.Â
The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.
âDidnât say goodbye this morning,â Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.
Youâre quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.
âSorryâŚmy mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didnâtâŚsheâs hard to be around anymore.â
âIâm just messinâ with you, kid,â He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.
âAre they home?â
âLeft about an hour ago, theyâre movinâ stuff into the house, I guess? I donât know,â Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then thereâs a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.
Joel hears your lips part on the other end, âItâs been a long day,â It was the first time heâs outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.
âTommy told me,â You blurt in frustration, âabout her.â
âListen, I donât need you judginâ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as isââ
âIâm notâŚI wasnât,â You respond, confused, âI just, I wish youâd mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to meâŚbutââ
Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.
âI got my own baggage, ainât no sense dragging you into that,â Joel defends, ânot with all you have going on.â
âIf you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,â
It silences him effectively, âIâm not a child. Iâm not your child. Iâm an adultââ
âWhere is this cominâ from? Iâve never said thatââ
âI donât know,â You sigh in exasperation, âItâs been a long day, Joel. Iâm gonna head to bed, okay?â
You donât wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclearâyou havenât prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.
Theyâll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, youâre just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.
-
The week drags and youâd much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.
âAre we celebrating early?â You look at your mother, whoâs birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but sheâs quickly shaking her head.
âItâs Joelâs birthday, honey.â
âOh,â Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, âHappy Birthday?â
Joel hates the attention, clearly.Â
The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brotherâs birthday, but it doesnât dissipate the underlying frustration.
And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside himâfour beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.
Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when youâre home, giving you a gentle hug that you havenât felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before heâs searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.
It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home youâve grown comfortable in.
âYouâre quiet,â Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.
âAnd youâre drunk,â You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.
âBelieve it âr not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,â Joel responds, âIâve been cuttinâ back, I donât need you tellinâ me what I can handle. Youâre young, you wouldnât understand anyways.â
âGuess so,â You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun setâand you can feel Joelâs eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.
There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and heâd let you down easily, but he wasnât always that strongâa weak man with temptation dangling in his face. Heâs always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.
But, youâre feeling vindictive tonightâupset and angry at yourself, angry at Joelâno, frustrated.Â
And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joelâs eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.
Heâs always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doorsâthat in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesnât stop you.
Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.
You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him.Â
You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his kneesâor so heâs told you.Â
Or, you seduce him here.
He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, âIâm leaving, after the wedding,â Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, âI got an offer for an internship.â
âWell..thatâs good, ainât it?â
His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldnât make you feel good, but it does. You shouldnât want this, but you craved it.
âNo, likeâIâm leaving that night. To Dallas.â A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, âI donât know how to tell her.â
âDo you want to?â Joel asks.
You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, âNo, I donât. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, butââ
âTommy knows?â
You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, âYes, he does. He snooped and read the letterâheâs known Iâve wanted this opportunity for a while.â
âI didnât think you two talked that much,â Joel replies honestly.
âWe donât, not always,â You admit, ânot with my mom aroundâand he told me, about your drinking problem.â
Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.
âI justâthis isnâtâŚlike, it isnât also because of that, right?â You ask, âDoes drinking make you feel less guilty about it?â
You know it isnât the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets youâve been trying to keep.
âThereâs no guilt,â It was the most confident youâve heard Joel to beâŚever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, âWeâre adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this canât work.â
âCan I ask you a question?â
Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.
âIf they werenât togetherâif your brother wasnât going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?â
âI donât know,â Joel answers, unsure.
You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.
âI think you do,â You mumble against his mouth, âI also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.â
Joel canât find the words to respond, feeling like youâve seen straight through him.
âSo, let me help a little more,â You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.
You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that theyâre out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each otherâs mouth.
âQuiet,â He reminds you, âwe have to be quiet.â
Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.
âSays you,â You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, âI like hearing how bad you want it,â
Joelâs hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.
Heâs got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.
Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neckâheâs never seen you without it.
He thinks for a moment, considering his action before heâs reaching to tuck it behind your head.
But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before youâre reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.
âItâs okay,â You can sense Joelâs confusion, worryâ âIâm starting to figure things out for myself,â Itâs intimate, the way youâre talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, âbesidesâŚthe things I want you to do to me, itâs blasphemy, really.â
Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.
It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleadingâheâs right there and you can see it.
His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer.Â
Rich, you think. Maybe youâve been worshiping wrong your entire life.
Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. Itâs quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each otherâs skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.
âStaying or going?â He asks after youâve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.
âDepends,â Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, âyour room or mine?â
Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.
â
Joelâs dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirtâhis shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.
You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.
âSo, when do we have the talk?â You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.
âNot tonight, if you donât want to.â
Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.
âI was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,â You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, âItâsâŚsilly, I know. But, I think it might help. Iâm doubtingâwell, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.â
âThat really what you want?â Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, âIt ainât because of me, is it?â
âI think Iâve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. Iâm telling you becauseâI donât know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I donât chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.â
Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.
âIâŚalso think you should get some help,â You add gently, âtalk to someone about Sarahâdoesnât have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks youâll blow up on him. YouâreâŚyouâre an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.â
Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasnât a horrible sign, so you continue.
âShe hid it really well, youâŚnot so much.â
âSo, holdinâ each other accountable then, huh?â Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.
âI can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to meâthe sex isâŚgood,â You pause, considering your words, âreallyâŚreally fucking good, but I think weâre using it to avoid things.â
âThink you can fix me?â Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, âSweetheart, Iâve been broken for a long time.â
âMend,â You emphasize, âyou can healâso can I. I think we both owe it to ourselvesâ
His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.
âI think we do, sweetheart.â
Iâll try, for youâhe thinks silently but doesnât say. It doesnât matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work.Â
But, for you, heâd try.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller x y/n#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#my writing#absolution
564 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Soulmates au where Steve's soulmate is a man of culture.
ao3
Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.
It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.
Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.
Even though it kind of looked like one.
It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.
When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.
Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.
As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.
Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.
Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?
And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?
Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.
And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.
He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".
But none of them felt right.
Until he heard about Kas.
Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.
Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.
And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.
A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.
Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.
He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.
His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.
A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.
He looked like a twink, all things considered.
It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.
Steve just..
Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.
It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.
Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.
He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.
When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.
Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.
With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.
He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.
His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.
He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.
As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.
Yeah, he was a good boy like that.
There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.
Kas wasn't any different.
The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.
Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.
Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.
He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.
"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"
Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high butâ
"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.
This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.
Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.
Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.
"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"
"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.
Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.
Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.
They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.
What a pair they made.
"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.
"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.
Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.
He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.
Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.
But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.
Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.
Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.
Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.
Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.
It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.
"Kasâ"
"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.
"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.
"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.
"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.
Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.
"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"
"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.
"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.
Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.

#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#soulmates steddie#sub steve harrington#dom eddie munson#meet sexy#sionewrites
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Proper Thank You (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader) [+18]
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female reader Summary: You're Tommy's younger girlfriend who he loves to spoil. Thankfully, you always know how to thank him. Word count: 2,954 Contents: (Minors DNI) Age gap (reader is in her 20's, Tommy is in his 40's), smut, daddy kink (a serious use of the word "daddy"), oral sex (male receiving), cum eating. Author's notes: Another collab with my bestie @fuckiingloser. Don't forget to give her some love too! Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Love ya!
You were not the first young woman to be with a man in his 40's. It was still very common even if the times were changing. But there was something about this relationship that did mirror the societal shift. You were his sweet girlfriend who he paraded around town, who shamelessly sat on his lap while he worked and who shared his bed. Quite the scandal for those still stuck in Victorian times who would expect this to happen only between a married couple. Good thing the Victorian times had ended over 30 years ago.Â
Tommy loved having you by his arm half of the time. The other half he loved having you under him. Or on top, he wasn't picky. He got a kick out of the variety of looks some people would give him for having a pretty, young girl as his sweetheart. But above all things, he absolutely adored the way his pretty baby looked at him whenever he spoiled her rotten.
Today, you went with him to a horse ranch near Southam. A lovely place where Tommy intended to see that beautiful look in your eyes once more. He smirked, seeing you caress a beautiful mareâs nuzzle, the animal calm and docile under your touch.
âAye, I think she likes you.â Tommy announced with pride, already planning to buy the horse for his beautiful girlfriend.
âYou think?â You turned your head to look at him and admire his poise. The cigarette kissing his lips, the fine dark suit, the piercing blue eyes. So intimidating to many, so dear to you. âSheâs beautifulâŚâ Your thoughts and eyes returned to the mare, giving her another soft pet.
âYou two make a very pretty picture, baby girl.â He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out skillfully before making his way to you. His big arms wrapped around you from behind while he rested his chin on your shoulder. You smirked when a surprisingly sweet kiss was planted on the side of your head. Thomas Shelby was never sweet to anyone, not even in the dark humor jokes of those who knew him. His portrait could have easily been annexed to the definitions of âruggedâ, âseriousâ and even âruthlessâ, yet, here he was. This was what his lips that had spat out curses and threats were doing. Kissing. And very gently at that.Â
Above all women, you had a special place in his soul. You had him wrapped around your finger like those expensive rings you wore. Anything you wanted, you could have it. And if tomorrow you were to ask for a heart on a silver plate, he would tear anybodyâs chest open and serve it to you himself.
You leaned into him, just in time to meet his husky whisper:
âIf you want her baby⌠Sheâs yours.âÂ
With a big, spoiled princess grin, you turned around and looked at him in complete elation.
âThank you, daddy!â Your sweetness intoxicated him, the way you looked into his eyes killed him, and the way you called him âdaddyâ raised him from the dead. He absolutely loved it.Â
A calloused hand came up to touch your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your bottom lip. He admired the joy upon your beautiful face and studied it devotedly.
âAnything for my girl.â He spoke softly, his sexy Birmingham accent made your knees feel weak and your pussy become wetter. In a heartbeat, Thomas spoke to the farm owner, purchased the mare without even caring about the cost and made the necessary arrangements so you could have your pretty horse.Â
After a successful purchase, Thomas helped you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back to town. You would have your horse tomorrow morning, right now, business called.
He drove you to the Garrison, the Shelby's family owned pub for a Peaky Blinder business meeting. Usually, women were not allowed, but you were not just a woman. You were Thomas Shelbyâs woman. And the people who knew would rather chop a limb off than dare to deny you access.
With his hand on your lower back, Tommy guided you inside the rowdy bar towards the private Peaky Blinders table. Everybody was waiting for your arrival between sips of irish whiskey and puffs of smoke. Thomas took a seat and you took yours on his lap, the feeling of your weight on him as natural as the feeling of air entering his lungs.Â
The men at the table did not bat an eye, your presence was the new normality. And in a way, a sign that things were good, that Thomas was relaxed and no conflicts were on the horizon. If something bad or difficult was preying upon them, you would be hidden away in some safe heaven and not happily sitting on Tommyâs lap. Perhaps, the only other emotion a few of the men could feel when looking at you was a secret, deeply buried longing. Anybody would love to have a beauty like you sitting on their lap. Not that they would allow Thomas to hear them admit that.
The meeting started around you, some usual business and many details you didnât care for. Thomas concentrated, his thumb mindlessly rubbing back and forth on your clothed thigh. You liked the skirt you wore, the fabric was soft, and it incited Tommy to touch. It was not exactly close to the feeling of your bare skin when you fucked him, or when he would make you sit naked on his lap while he worked in his house studio, but it was pleasant.Â
The more the meeting dragged on, the more you started to grow restless. And a little bored, in all honesty. Sitting on his lap sounded glamorous and sensual in theory but in practice it was a test of resilience and patience. Being a sweet arm candy girl like you required more than a pretty face and a hot body. You also had to possess the skills to tell when a meeting was dying out and calculate the exact perfect moment to lean closer to Tommyâs ear and whisper something to save you from boredom.
âYou know⌠I never properly thanked you today for getting me my beautiful horse⌠I think daddy needs a proper thank youâŚâ Thomas turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk.
âIs that right?â He leaned closer to you until your noses bumped together, giving your thigh a squeeze. âAnd just how would you thank daddy, then? Hmm?â He whispered, the meeting a mere background noise now. You leaned towards his ear again, whispering so quietly so only Tommy could hear.
âI wanna suck your cock⌠Or you can fuck me over your desk in the back?â You purred so innocently despite the pure filth of your words. His cock told you all you needed to know about his opinion. The twitch inside his pants impossible to miss. You pulled back to stare into his eyes and take in his tiny smirk. He knew that resistance was futile and completely incompatible with him when it came to you.
Without excusing words or explanations to the other gentlemen, Thomas scooted you two out of the booth, taking your hand and guiding you to the back. He kicked the small office door open and locked you both in. You could almost feel his piercing blues tracing the shape of your ass under that fashionable skirt you wore.Â
âSo...â You started, walking over to his desk and luring him to take a few steps closer to you. He towered over you, his rough hands touched your hips with interest. âHow does daddy want me?â You purred innocently, looking into his eyes.
Thomasâ cock hardened even more in his dress pants. Your figure, your soft face, your pretty eyes, your voice, you. Lust took over his eyes.
 âOn your knees baby⌠you know what daddy wants.â His voice was husky, overcome with his need for you and your pretty little mouth. You grinned, a hungry look in your eyes replicating his own. Steadily, you sunk to your knees, the fabric of your skirt your only padding on the cold floor. Tommy leaned against his desk and watched you work your magic. Your fingers undid the button of his pants with torturous care.
âYou know⌠If you wanted to fuck me in front that whole room of men⌠Iâd let you. Iâd let you do whatever you want to me..â You were a tease, you killed him slowly. His breath hitched a bit, his possessive streak driving him to total insanity. You were right. You would let him do anything he wanted. He knew. But hearing you say that made the fire of his lower stomach ignite him whole.
âOh, I know you would⌠Youâd be my good little girl, wouldnât you?â He whispered, brushing a hair out of your beautiful face. You nodded so innocently, and then lowered his pants down until they pooled around his ankles.
âI'll always be your good girl⌠Iâll always please you and let you use me however you needâŚâ You whispered back, a soft sensual smile gracing your lips. Tommy couldnât help but groan at your words, his painfully hard cock pulsing in his boxer briefs right in front of your face.
âGod, youâre such a good girl⌠Youâll be good for daddy now wonât you?â He cooed.Â
âAlways.â You purred in devotion. Your hands reached up to grab the band of his boxers and, with one swift, well trained motion, pulled them down. His large throbbing cock sprung free for you to drool over. Mere inches away from your face.Â
âYou gonna thank your daddy properly, hmm?â He asked with a sexy smirk, heavily accented and incredibly husky. You nodded obediently, your eyes going from his beautiful irises to his hard cock. It had been over four months since you became his sweetheart and you still felt enamored at his sheer size.
âYes daddyâŚâ You answered softly then looked back up to his pretty blue eyes. âGonna suck your cock and drain these perfect balls just how you likeâŚâ You made it a point to speak so innocently, stirring something in him. He could have lost himself right then and there from your words alone. It took him a second to fully take in the idea. The dirtiest promises coming from the prettiest girl he has ever seen.
âFuck baby⌠Youâre gonna be the death of me someday, you know that?â He asked in a playful little smirk, and you attacked. Your soft hand wrapped around his aching hard cock. He groaned softly.
âBut at least youâll die happy.â You purred, gifting him a few seconds to prepare himself before finally leaning in to swirl your tongue skillfully over the head of his dripping cock. Thomas let out a guttural moan, his hand gripping his desk behind him in an attempt to steady himself. His head fell back, the texture of your wet, warm tongue erasing each and every thought off his mind. It all became you and you only. You licking him, tasting his sensitive tip, you pleasing him.
âFuck, baby⌠My perfect girlâŚâ He managed to choke out, affected yet addicted. Your tongue swirled over him expertly, and you looked up at him. A sweet happy hum reverberated in your throat as you tasted the salt of his precum. Every drop that ran down his tip not making it far thanks to your eager licks. Your hum sent vibrations up his cock, making him feel like his knees were about to buckle under him. The only time he appreciated feeling vulnerable.
Tommy looked down at you servicing him, taking your sweet time on his sensitive tip. The fire in your eyes recognized his and burnt with it.Â
âHoly-f-fuck.. my girl knows how to suck her daddyâs cock so goodâŚ.â He groaned, and you took more of his lengthy cock in your mouth, working your way down and sucking it, your tongue massaging it slowly.
He tried his best to maintain his composure and control, but another swirl of your tongue made him admit to himself that he would not last long.
âF-fuck, baby girl⌠You keep going like thatâŚâ He groaned, gripping the edge of the wooden desk harder and urging you.
You bobbed your head on his cock in a skillful rhythm. The sounds coming from you were so filthy and obscene. Nothing could have torn his gaze away from you. It was a war between him and his throbbing cock. He wanted more, desperately needed more, but his orgasm neared closer than his next breath.
 âYouâre too good to me, baby girl⌠Youâre gonna make daddy come⌠And itâs gonna be right in your pretty mouth, and youâre gonna take every last drop, arenât you?â He cooed with one hand touching the top of your head for support. You bobbed your head, up and down his shaft, with your nose bumping his pelvic area. You looked up and hummed in response. You always swallowed.
Noting his increasing pleasure, you pushed yourself to take more of his thick cock. You gagged a little and earned a loud moan from him akin to music to your ears.
âGoood girl⌠Good girl.â With his praise like a mantra, he watched over you, almost out of breath. âThat's it. I'm gonna come for you⌠âm gonna come in this mouth and youâre gonna swallow all of it, arenât you baby?â He repeated, unaware by now. No thoughts inside his head, only your perfect mouth that pulled back for just a second.
 âYes, daddy.â You purred, looking up at him with innocent eyes before taking him in your mouth again, this time working faster and with much more intensity. Constantly swiping against the underside of his thick cock.
Thomas had to resist the urge of bucking into your mouth and fuck your face just the way he likes, but he found the willpower to stay calm. This was all about you pleasing him, putting that mouth of yours to work and thanking him.Â
âGood girl, such a good fuckinâ girlâŚâ He praised, his orgasm so close to hitting him and knocking him flat out. âNow, remember, baby girl⌠Whatâs my rule?â His voice almost cracked. Dominance was a hard thing to upkeep when his balls tightened this hard and your throat hummed around him. Your pussy grew wetter at the mention of the rule, one you had committed to memory.
âBefore you can swallow, you have to show it to daddy... Need to see my come all over your pretty tongue, hmm?â Thomas said, barely hanging on at this point. One of his hands holding your hair back and the other gripping the desk behind him for stability.
You hummed as loud and as best as you can, his thick cock barely giving up space for sound to travel. You kept sucking him, and his resistance was hung on by a thread, ready to snap at any moment. His moans, his heavy breaths, the hot puffs of air he lets out, the way his cock throbbed in your mouth⌠You wanted him done for.Â
Your hand came up, gently cupping his balls and giving them a soft squeeze. His breath hitched and he cursed under his breath.
âHoly fuck, baby-â He choked out, and everything snapped inside him. âComing..â That was the only word he managed to utter before his resolve crumbled and his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. His hand grabbed your hair firmly, but not painfully, keeping you there, ready to take it all.
Your movements stopped in anticipation and his cock pulsed inside your mouth. A salty load of cum coated your tongue completely and his sensual low groan filled your ears. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment and his lips stayed parted. When every last drop was unloaded, he opened his eyes back again and looked at you intently.
âShow daddyâŚâ He murmured, his voice a little strained. You obeyed, pulling off him and sitting back on your knees. With pride, you stuck out your cum-painted tongue for his viewing pleasure.
âMy good girl.â Tommy praised. You were indeed so good. So obedient. So perfect for him. âYou can swallow now, baby girl.âÂ
His hand petted the top of your head with appreciative softness, and you, living up to his praise, did as he said. The salt taste of his cum mixing with your saliva before passing down your throat. A soft hum of approval coming from you made him smile ever so gently.
He reached down to pull up his pants, tucking his now soft, sensitive and tired cock back into his boxers and buttoning his dress pants. He reached his hands down, pulling you up from the floor easily into his arms. When you were close to his face, you gave him a cheeky little smile. His hands cupped your face and gently pulled you in for a burning hot, passionate kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, making him taste himself on you. A pervertedly satisfied smile crept into the kiss.
Slowly, he pulled back, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.
âYou know⌠If all it took to get you to do that for me is to buy you a horse⌠I think I'll buy you a horse, or anything else you want every single day for the rest of your life.â Tommy whispered in a mix of sensuality but also pure, deep love.Â
Your eyes twinkled a bit and a soft smile appeared on your face. He was just as obsessed with you as you were with him.Â
âDealâ.
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy characters#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby fanfic
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Evan's scraping a spoon across the plate of tiramisu they'd demolished when Tommy feels it bubbling up. He's talking about sperm whales, of all things, somehow navigating there from their earlier conversation about the Shelby his neighbor has been trying to entice Tommy into putting up on the lift even though Tommy has told him time and again that his entire life savings does not cover even a scratch in the paint on that thing, and Tommy wants to thumb at the cocoa powder stuck to the corner of Evan's lip, wants to drag him out into the street and dance under the moonlight, wants -
"And they have asymmetrical skulls, Tommy," Evan says, with his free hand still trapped beneath Tommy's and his smile stretching wide.
Half a year ago they'd sat at the table three yards to Tommy's left and Tommy had gone from nervous and smitten to reminding himself not to be too disappointed while he ordered himself an Uber in the span of an hour. It feels like a lifetime ago.
"I'm gonna say yes," Tommy says, which hadn't really been on his mind to say until this moment.
Evan stills. His hand twitches under Tommy's. His brow furrows and his lip curls out with the beginnings of a pout. "You found it, didn't you?"
"If you're gonna hide a ring box, sweetheart, do it somewhere we don't both keep our socks."
They've been playing fast and loose with the whole idea of pacing themselves since Tommy sat down at that patio table and took a sip of terrible coffee while the sun lit Evan up like he was the only thing worth seeing in the entire world. Finding the ring tucked behind his least favorite pair of wool socks hadn't even been a surprise, really.
"I can walk it back if you've got a speech," Tommy says, and Evan ducks his head and looks up at Tommy through his lashes. "God knows you might say something that changes my mind."
Evan laughs. It's a laugh Tommy fully intends to have as his soundtrack for the rest of his life. "Maybe no speech then."
"Still tweaking it, huh?"
"Maybe you just don't deserve to hear it, yet. That's what you get for hijacking the proposal, Thomas."
Tommy flips his wrist, rolls his fingers into the palm of Evan's hand, slides a thumb over his knuckles and grins. "Call me that again and I'm taking back my original statement, Buck."
Evan's nose scrunches adorably. "You made your point." (An argument, three months in, Evan pouting adorably because they'd run into an ex of Tommy's at a harvest festival and Tommy had introduced him as 'my partner, Buck'. Evan had spent the rest of the day caught up in naming conventions and the meaning of it all until Tommy's patience had worn thin enough to snark back. They'd discovered how great they were at makeup sex at three in the morning when Evan pounded on his door to continue the barely-an-argument.)
"Just. When you ask. Just know the answer's already a forgone conclusion."
If forced at gunpoint to choose a favorite feature of Evan's, it's the way his eyes actually sparkle like a cartoon princess when he smiles. He sticks his tongue between his teeth and taps his pinky against the second knuckle of Tommy's ring finger. "Noted," he teases, and Tommy doesn't even protest this time, when Evan picks up the tab.
616 notes
¡
View notes
Text
dark blue.



tommy shelby x fem!reader
summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.
includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here
a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3
ââ°
âWhatâs a good girl like you doinâ with a boy like Finn, eh?â
It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.
It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.
So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?
Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.
He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.
You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.
"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"
Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.
"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.
"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"
"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"
An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.
You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.
Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.
"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"
You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.
He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.
"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.
You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?
"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.
"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"
You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.
"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.
His reply was simple.
"You heard me."
"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.
"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."
You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.
"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.
"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.
"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.
âDo you want to?â He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.
âM-maybeâŚâ
âCome here,â Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.
âDo you want me to show you what itâs like?â He cooed all condescending and mocking, âDo you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?â
âMr Shelby, what about Finn?â His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.
âFuck Finn,â he spoke slowly, âyou forget about him when Iâm talking to you, you understand me?â
You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.
âYes, Mr Shelby,â
âNo, no, none of that,â he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. âYou address me properly.â
You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.
âCome on, sweet girl,â he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. âIâm your daddy now, isnât that right?â
You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.
Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sureâ and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.
âYes,â you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, âyes, daddy.â
His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.
You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.
"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"
You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.
So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.
Yeah, that was no act.
Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.
Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.
Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.
The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.
He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.
You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.
Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.
"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."
You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.
He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.
"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"
You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.
"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."
"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."
You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.
"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."
Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.
"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."
You nodded, cheeks searing.
"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."
He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.
You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.
"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.
You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.
The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?
Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.
Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.
"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."
Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.
So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.
"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.
"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.
"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.
You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.
"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.
With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.
"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"
He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.
You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.
"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"
With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.
You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.
He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.
Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.
"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."
You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.
"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.
Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.
He'd have all of you soon enough.
You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.
"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."
You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.
One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.
"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."
He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.
"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."
Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.
He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.
#tommy shelby blurb#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby smut#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders smut#cillian murphy blurb#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader
3K notes
¡
View notes
Note
heyy i have a request <33
just read ur shy reader x steve fic where she gives him his phone number back and then hits her head and heâs just so đĽ°đĽ°đĽ° abt it all. i know itâs a prequel to a fic where theyâre finally together but could i politely request a fic from when they did get together. maybe tommy tries picking on her again but steve actually stops him that timeđŠˇđŠˇđŠˇ
thanks for requesting :D part of the king!steve universe! â steve defends you from his asshole friends (shy!fem!r established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1k)
The air smells overwhelmingly of the late summer season. Of nighttime and dewy grass and chlorine and Steve The Hair Harrington.Â
The boy himself lazes in the lawn chair next to yours, much too far for your liking. The warm scent of his cologne lingers between you and cradles you in his absence.Â
You tilt your chin to your shoulder and admire the sharp edges of Steveâs profile in silence. Your heavy eyes fall from his pronounced browbone, to the slope of his chiseled nose, and finally to the plush of his pink lips. Too pretty for his own good.
âYou can swim if you want to,â you murmur when you catch him eyeing Tommy and Carol splashing each other in the steaming pool. âYou know that, right?â
Steveâs brows furrow, as though offended by the question. âIâm okay here.â
âI just donât want you to think you have to stay here with meââ
âI donât care about swimming with those two shitheads, alright? Honest,â the boy interjects, then turns to look at you fully. Honey glitters in his dark eyes, which melt with a quiet adoration. In a similarly warm tone, he confesses, âI just wanna spend time with you.âÂ
A petaled smile blooms on your mouth. You purse your lips to the side in a futile attempt to conceal it, which only makes Steveâs smug grin grow. He knows what heâs doing to you. And itâs maddening.
âYou can flirt with your girlfriend without being an asshole, you know?â Tommy calls from the shallow end of the pool, freckled arms folded along the concrete edge. He shakes wet hair from his face and jokes, âDissing your friends isnât exactly a turn-on. Ainât that right, sweetheart?â
Your face burns when he turns to you. The unwanted attention makes your throat catch and your stomach do backflips. âCause no matter how many times Steve invites you to these hangouts, you know youâll never truly fit in. Not here. Not with them.
Steve, seemingly sensing your discomfort as you shift in your seat, calls back. âHey, Tommy?â
âYeah?â
âShut up.â
"Dick,â the darker-haired boy chuckles.Â
Carol swims over to him, then, and mounts his back. She wraps all her dainty limbs around him like a koala. Tommy accommodates her weight with little effort. âHey, Wallflower. Why donât you hop in? The waterâs warm.â
As if you didnât already know that you were less than friends, the use of the horrid nickname was further confirmation.
âI donât know how to swim,â you confess in a mousy voice.
âI could always teach ya,â he offers, mostly polite, but still distantly creepy in his way. âYouâve got a bathing suit under all that, right?â
âUh⌠Yeah?â
The corner of his mouth lifts in a faint smirk. His dark eyes flit up and down your form like he can see right through your oversized t-shirt. âNice,â he hums.
Carol scoffs and swats his arm. âYouâre such a boy.â
Tommyâs freckled face swirls with a boyish offense. âI just wanna know what she looks like under all those clothes! Thatâs all!â he argues like itâs normal. Like you arenât there at all.
âOkay, Tommy,â Steve spits. âThatâs just gross.â
âWhat?â he laughs
âYou canâtâ You canât just say that!â the boy beside you retorts, talking wildly with his hands. âThatâs, like, super sexist, dude.â
Even stewing in your red-hot embarrassment, he manages to get a smile out of you. Not that heâs trying to, anyway. Heâs trying to stand up for you â the best he can, at least. Itâs not his fault his boyishness is so damn adorable.
âDonât act like you havenât said worse shit, Harrington!âÂ
âYeah, but I grew up! Itâs not my fault youâre still fourteen!â
Tommy rears his arm back to splash him. The warm droplets of the heated pool land mostly on the boy beside you, dampening his sweatshirt in rogue places. A few fall gently on your arm when you flinch away.
âSee. Now youâre just proving my point,â Steve deadpans.
âHey, Wallflower!â Tommy shouts, if only to further provoke his best friend. âIf you ever want a break from this hardass, give us a call, alright?â
Carol gasps in offense. âYouâre so gross,â she giggles before splashing him with a lighthearted hand. To which Tommy responds with a much bigger, much more dramatic splash of his own.Â
The two of them roughhouse like they hate each other and forget you were ever there, while you drown in a riptide of thoughts.
What did she mean by that? your mind races. Does the mere thought of you disgust her? Or does she realize how pervy her boyfriend is? Maybe itâs both. But the thought is still stomach-turning.
Steve looks over at you and softens all over again. âSorry about him,â he mumbles.
His honeyed voice cuts through all the mean voices in your head. You blink hard and turn to him with less glazed-over eyes. âYouâre real cute, you know?â you say with a wavering, mostly sincere grin.
He only shrugs and swipes an anxious hand through his hair, ducking away when his cheeks start to speckle a burning pink color. The chocolate strands fall back over his forehead once more.Â
âHe doesnât get to talk to you like that,â he murmurs sheepishly. âOr anyone, but⌠Especially you.â
âHardass,â you quip with a mischievous squint.
Steve sends you a playful glare in return. You cave with a pretty laugh. He grins at the sound of it and settles back in his plastic lounge chair, blinking up at the velvet night sky.
âItâs feel good, though,â he mutters with his arms folded over his stomach.
Your brows pinch. âWhat does?â
âBeing the only one who gets to see you under all that.â
Steve flashes you a smirk â pretty, pink, and lopsided. You meet the petaled expression with a lighthearted glower despite the sparkles burning like embers in your chest.Â
âDoes it?â you monotone.
âYep,â he answers, popping the p. âItâs an honor, really.â
âShut up.â
âI feel like I deserve a medal, honestly.â
âShut up.â
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things x reader#stranger things#steve harrington#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#st drabbles#stevie drabble
580 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Heeey, I love your writingđ can you please write something about Tommy buying a horse for his wife and teach her to ride, and the day ends with her riding Tommy real hardđ
Hi! Thank you đ I sure can.
TW: swearing , semi public sex, riding, p in v unprotected and not proofread.
Tommy was always full of surprises sometimes they were good other times they were bad and sometimes you didnât even ask. It was better that way because you knew of the family business long before you married Tommy.
On the bright side this time was a good surprise. You were sitting out back enjoying your romance book with a glass of lemon water while the cool fall air breezed across your cheeks. It was quiet since Tommy was out , Polly was with Lizzie and shopping and the rest of the family was out doing their own things. It was nice to have the house to yourself. All thoughts in your head flew out the window when you heard Tommyâs voice in the distance.
Quickly you stood up on your feet as Tommy came in the yard with a surprise.
âTommy! What on earth is that?â You asked closing your book and tossing it on the table.
âItâs a horse darling!â He smiled.
âI see that but what I meant was⌠why do you have a horse Tommy ?â You walked up to him with caution .
âWell because itâs your horse!â He offered you the rope but you stood in shock.
âYou bought me a horse? Really? Youâre joking! I donât know the first thing about owning a horse!â You were in disbelief. The horse was beautiful you had to admit but you just couldnât wrap your head around the reality of the situation.
âWell thatâs why ya got a horse! Iâm going to teach you how to care for her and how to ride as well.â Tommy petted the left side of the horses face before extending his hand out for you. You took his hand cautiously before he placed it on the horse.
âYou got a female horse to match yours? Because they look the same!â A smile crept on your lips as Tommy smiled at you. It was true, he basically got his and hers horses for the two of you. He wanted you to go on rides with him, enjoy the nature that surrounded the home and beyond. A new hobby the two of you could share together since you didnât collect guns or whiskey and he didnât bake bread or the most delicious lemon cookies heâs ever had. This was something the two of you could enjoy.
âShe is beautiful.â You whispered while petting her mane .
âJust like you my dear. Soft, elegant ⌠Gorgeous.â Tommy kissed your cheek making you turn red. âNow for today Iâll ride with you on her which we canât just keep calling her well her! Youâre going to have to name ..â.
âTulip!â You blurted out making Tommy chuckle. Here you were so determined not to like his gift but you had a name already picked out. Tommy nodded in agreement before he helped you up on tulip.
Tulip let out a little neigh which made you jump and Tommy shake his head as a laugh left his mouth. He got you up there with ease before hopping on himself. Tommy sat behind you as close as he could so he could still hold the rope and guide tulip. His chest was pressed into your back and had his arms wrapped around you as best as he could.
âBest of ya grab the rope too, safety and all.â Tommy kissed the back of your head and with the snap of the rope the two of you were off.
The afternoon flew by as Tommy took you for a ride along one of his favorite paths. It was stunning watching it go by and the sun sitting high in the sky. It wasnât long before the two of you made it home. Tommy jumped off first before helping you down and taking tulip into the barn with his horse. The horses looked at each other and it was an instant connection. Tommy laughed as he watched his horse Butcher give Tulip his charm.
âI think they like each other.â Tommy wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you turned to face him and place your hand on his chest.
âI know two other creatures that like each other.â You arched your eyebrow while dragging your hand down his chest.
âI know that look sweetheart⌠let me take you back into the house..â
âNo!â You pushed him up against the barn doors before smashing your lips into his. His hands grabbed onto your waist and lifted your leg up as the two of you kissed heavily mixing your tongues together. Tommy loved when you got to this level of neediness because it meant that he could do what he wanted whenever wherever ! You were needy after the ride because he had you sitting against her harness that was studded and you were sat upon the stud that rubbed against your clit.
âNeedy girl ⌠going to let me fuck you in a barn⌠although two weeks ago at the pubâŚâ Tommy mumbled to himself as you kissed down his neck. Your hands were busy undoing his pants.
âNo, youâre going to let me ride you!â You were in a hurry to get his cock out and who was he to complain.
âNow that youâre already an expert in darling.â Tommy smirked as you pulled his pants down along with his boxers but when you pushed him down into the hay that was a shock. You pulled down your skirt but as you took off your panties Tommy grabbed them from your hands and held them up. âOoh baby, look at that wet spot! What a naughty girl you are.â He licked the wet spot while looking you the eye making you whine. âWhatâs the matter honey, do you need my tongue licking you hmm?â
âTommy please! Fuck!â You had tears in your eyes from how worked up you were.
âRide me baby and then Iâll lick your pretty cunt.â Tommy snapped his fingers and you were on it. You slowly jerked his semi hard cock before putting the head of his cock against your folds. A small hiss left your lips as you sank down all the way on his cock.
âOh Tommy!â Your fingers grabbed his shoulders as he helped guide you along his cock.
âThatâs a good girl, I know itâs big and no matter how many times I fuck ya ya never seem to get used to it! Magic little pussy ya got baby.â Tommy rubbed your hips as you finally started to ride his cock. It was slow and loving at first. He brushed your hair with his fingers as you rocked your hips back and forth making him let out low groans. Tommy pulled you closer so he could moan into your ear because he knew how much you loved hearing his moans.
The two of you enjoyed the soft yet passionate sex but something inside of you took over. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter before you looked up into his eyes and he could see the desire pooling in them. You lifted up your hips and slammed right back down before moving your hips faster, riding his cock like your life depended on it.
âFuck yes! Thatâs my girl! Yes baby donât stop! Feels so fucking good! Fuck! Ride my cock just like that.â Tommyâs hands smacked your ass cheeks at the same time making you cry in pleasure. Your mouth dropped open letting all your whines spill out . Tommy was in love! Well heâs always been in love with you but this was the lustful love . The way you were riding his cock was the best heâs ever felt, the way you just took charge and used him for your own pleasure that lead to his pleasure was amazing to him. His sweet little housewife that had a sexual hunger that only he could fill was the best feeling. Here you were owning his cock, looking so angelic yet doing something so dirty.
âMy cock! Mineâ you mumbled as you rode him hard.
âYes baby! Itâs yours! Fuck! Such a dirty girl! Fucking me in public place againâ Tommy cupped your face in his hands making you look him in the eye before he stopped you from riding him. You pouted your bottom lip but only for a split second until Tommy took over and fucked his cock up into you as fast as he could. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against your wetness filled the barn making you moan loudly. His hand snaked up to your hair and gave it a hard yank so he could cover your throat in kisses. Your orgasm was on the brink and Tommy knew it so he slowed down before gripping your hips to pull you down his cock . He bounced you nice and hard on his cock that was aching to cum in you.
âTommy!â You whined loudly as your body started to shake.
âI know baby, itâs okay be good for me yeah? Cum on my cock! Soak my cock⌠be a good OH !â Tommy was cut short as you clenched his cock cumming hard! The two of you cried out together as your orgasms washed over you. You were shaking in his arms as he held you tightly while filling you up with his cum.
Silence filled the barn as you came down from your high. Tommy rubbed your back lovingly as the two of you relaxed enjoying each others body heat.
âYa know I meant it earlier honey⌠youâre already an expert in riding alright and I wouldnât have it any other way.â Tommy kissed your temple before he slowly helped you back onto your feet to get back to the house so you could carry on like nothing just happened, just a regular afternoon fuck session between a husband and his wife in their barn. Between you and Tommy , it was never a dull day and neither of you would change it .
#thomas shelby x fem!reader#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby blurb#thomas shelby smut#Thomas Shelby#thomas shelby drabble#peaky blinders blurb#thomas shelby peaky blinders#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders drabble#tommy peaky blinders#thomas shelby x reader#emsblurbs#cillian murphy masterlist
492 notes
¡
View notes
Text
âNo Pure BloodâPART TWO
Part 1 / Part 2
Dark Fiction Šď¸entral
Dark!Dad!Joel / Dark!Uncle!Tommy x Reader
Chapter Summery: uncle Tommy brings you home 15 minutes too late. (Read part one before reading this chapter.)
â ď¸ : Age-Gap (Joel 53, Tommy 45, Reader not a Minor), mention of Rape, rape, Dub-con, blackmailing, Dark!Joel, father/daughter relationship dynamics (everyone knows Reader to be Joelâs âadoptive daughterâ), Reader calls Joel dad, confused Reader (Stockholm-Syndrom), father-figure Joel but messed up, manhandling, Daddy-issues, overprotective/obsessive Joel, manipulation, degradation-kink, throat-fuck/face-fuck, blow-jobs, rim-job, pussy torture, cum-eating, misogynistic-views/behaviour, name-calling, Uncle!Tommy (yes, itâs a warning from now on)
A/n: I finally managed to write part 2 lol đŤ itâs a lot of new lore which I love tbh. Itâs pretty nasty and wild and omg tell me if I fucked it up. Pls like, share and comment!!!! It means a LOT to me and keeps me motivated.
It was a cold winter evening, snow was falling quietly.
Joel had lit the fireplace and was busy keeping it burning. He had chopped the firewood himself. Occasionally, he glanced at the wall clock. It was just before nineâŚ
He gave you another five minutes; if you weren't home by then, he and his gun would come looking for you.
For Joel, there was absolutely no reason for you to meet with friends to such late hours and waste yourself at parties. Your place was right here, with him.
He glanced at the wall clock again. Now it was already fifteen minutes past nine, and you were still not home. He stood up and grabbed his gun. If he had to be honest with himself he was glad that you disregarded his agreementâ because now he had a good reason to revoke your privilege of ever going out again.
Joel yanked the front door open, ready to storm the party and drag you home. But just as he was about to step outside, there you stood, wide-eyed and trembling.
His expression hardened. Joel was a big, strong man, and despite his age, he was not to be underestimated. You had seen what he was capable of, had felt it firsthand.
His steely gaze shifted to Tommy, standing a few feet away. Tommy gave him a nod. Joelâs eyes returned to you, his adoptive daughter, tears welling up in your eyes.
âYou're late," Joel said, his voice cold, uncertain how to read the situation. He could tell something had happened, but he didn't know what.
"I'm sorry, Dad," you whispered, your voice breaking.
"That's probably my fault," Tommy interjected. "I was having a smoke and held her up on her way home. She told me what happened at the party..."
Joel's ears perked up at Tommy's words. "And what happened?" Joel asked, his gaze shifting to you.
You looked down, too scared to lie to Joel any longer.
You hadn't been at any party. You had met up with Dean Winchester and were caught by your uncle, who coerced you into sex with him.
But Joel could never know that.
"Calm down, brother. It was just a little fight between girls. They're teenagers, you know how they are," Tommy said smoothly.
Joel's skeptical gaze shifted from Tommy to you. He trusted Tommy. Joel's body language relaxed a bit, and he only now realized how tightly he had been gripping his gun, ready to fire at any moment.
"I told you that Anna is a bitch," Joel said to you and stepped away from the doorframe so that you could step in.
You rushed inside.
âWhere are your manners?â Joel said and stopped you in your tracks.
You glanced at Joel, then at Tommy, sensing the weight of Joelâs expectations pressing down on you. Joel had drilled it into you: girls must have good manners, always be polite and respectful. For Joel, respect was very important, especially from women.
Joelâs cold eyes bore into you, expecting nothing less than complete submission.
âGood night, uncle Tommy.â, you whispered. âThanks for bringing me home.â
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Tommy replied politely.
Tommy watched with a mixture of fascination and pity. To him, it was a cruel spectacle, watching you submit so completely. Joel had molded you into his perfect vision of a compliant, obedient girl, and it was both disturbing and impressive.
Well, Tommy knew you werenât that obedientâŚafter all you still had the guts to lie to Joel and kiss other boys behind his back.
Joel nodded, satisfied for the moment. "Good. Now go to your room. Weâll discuss your punishment later."
You rushed inside but stopped at the stairs, hidden behind the corner, so to be able to hear their conversation.
Joel set his gun aside. "Thanks for looking out for her, Tommy."
"She's family," Tommy said with a smile, though Joel didn't suspect the secret hidden behind that smile.
"Just do me a favor, brother," Tommy began. "Don't be too hard on the girl. If I hadn't held her up, she would've made it home on time."
Joel nodded, his expression stern. "You know how they are. Without consequences, they never learn from their mistakes."
Tommy's smile remained, but there was a glint in his eye that Joel missed. "True, but she's just a kid. Give her a chance to prove herself."
Joel grunted, dismissing the plea with a wave of his hand. "Girls need discipline. Without it, they get ideas. And ideas lead to trouble."
Even before the apocalypse, Joel had been an old-fashioned man. He firmly believed that "women are meant to be seen, not heard." The chaos of the apocalypse had only cemented his convictions, hardening his already rigid views.
âNight, Brother.â
âGood night, Tommy.â
As you stood there, listening to their exchange, you couldn't help but feel a pang of dread. You rushed up the stairs.
âââ
You were frantically wiping the lipstick off your trembling lips. Joel could never find out what had really happened that night. Never.
You heard the heavy thud of his boots walk up the stairs. You quickly started stripping off your clothes, knowing that this was what Joel wouldâve expected from you. Jacket first, then your top, and finally your skirt. Now, completely naked, you sprawled across the bed, your upper body pressed against the sheets, legs dangling off the edge, and your bare backside exposed. Your heart pounded with adrenaline, each beat echoing in your ears. Desperation mixed with fear as you clasped your hands together, beginning to pray to god for mercy just as your biological father had taught you.
You remembered Joelâs cruel words the first time heâd caught you pray: âI am your god now.â
The door creaked open, and the first thing Joel saw was your exposed ass. The room seemed to hold its breath as he stepped in. The air was thick with the scent of your sweat and fear.
You could feel his gaze burning into your skin.
Your mind raced, searching for a way to make him go easy on you.
âIâm sorry for being late, dad.â, you pressed out. âIt will never happen again.â
"Oh, I know," Joel finally said, his voice low, it made your skin crawl. "Ya will not leave ma house after sunset. Ya can't handle yourself out there."
"What? No! That's totally unfair!" you wanted to shout, but a sense of self-preservation clamped your lips shut. You knew arguing with Joel was pointless. Once he made up his mind, there was no changing it.
Silence hung heavily between you.
Joel's footsteps were deliberate as he crossed the room. You could feel his dominating presence behind you. His shadow swallowing the dim light of the room. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your ass with a possessive familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. It was sick how much he enjoyed this. And no matter what he did to you he could tell you were not completely broken yet, there was still fire behind those scared eyes.
"Ya know I still need to punish ya?â, Joel said knowing damn well that he didnât need toâbut he wanted to punish you.
"Lie on your back on the bed," he commanded, and you complied without a word of protest.
Your heart raced as you lay flat on the bed, eyes widening when you saw the straps in Joel's hand. They could only mean one thing: he intended to bind you to the bedâŚ
Your breath hitched as he took your wrists, securing them to the bedframe with practiced ease. Memories of the past flooded backâtimes when you had fought him fiercely, screaming and thrashing, trying to push him away. But you hadn't done that in a long time. Confusion grew inside you.
"I won't fight you," you pleaded softly, hoping to avoid the restraints. "You don't need to tie me up, dad."
Joel's eyes met yours, a flicker of somethingâdoubt, maybe?âcrossing his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stoic determination. He finished his task methodically, only stepping back once he was satisfied with his work.
The thing he had planned to do to you was something heâd never done before. He had only seen a raider do it to a female prisoner onceâŚ
Your wrists ached slightly from the tightness of the straps.
"Doâya know why I'm going to punish ya?" Joel's words were dripping with the promise of pain.
You nodded, tears welling up from your eyes. "You will punish me for coming home late. I'm sorry, Dad."
"Ya need to understand your place," he growled, his eyes boring into yours. "Since we got to Jackson, you've been acting up. Thinkin ya free to do whatever. Thinkin ya don't need me no more."
"No, I need you, Dad. I need you. I love you, Daddy," you sniffled. The last thing you wanted was for Joel to think so bad of you.
Joel's expression softened for a brief moment, but then his eyes hardened again. "Let me tell ya somethin," he said, his voice carrying the weight of bitter experience. "I've seen safe zones and camps fall that were much bigger than Jackson. This place is a goddamn joke. The people here are soft. Once this place burns to the ground, who do ya think will take care of ya ass?"
"You will, Dad."
"Damn right," he muttered, his voice a mix of anger and possessiveness. He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. "You think these people can protect ya? They can't. They're weak. I'm the only one who can keep you safe."
His words cut deep. You felt a fresh wave of tears spill over, your body trembling with the weight of his expectations and the fear of his anger. If coming home late made Joel this angry, what would he do if he ever found out what you really did tonight?
"I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered again, hoping to appease him. "I won't disobey you ever again.â
Joel's big rough hand cupped your chin, lifting your face so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Ya better not," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. "You're my responsibility. And I won't let anything happen to ya. But ya have to follow my rules. Understand?"
You nodded, the fear and love you felt for him mingling into a confusing mess of emotions. You needed to hate him but loving him was much easier.
Joel released your chin and stepped back.
"Good," he said finally. "Now, remember this. Without me, you're nothing. Don't ever forget that."
âWithout you Iâm nothing.â, you repeated.
Joel rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a small jar. In his large hands, the tiny container looked almost comical. Inside was a homemade, gray paste.
"What is that?" you asked, your voice trembling.
"Your punishment, Joel murmured, unscrewing the lid. He sniffed the contents, the sharp and bitter scent filling the room.
You had no idea what it was, but dread coiled in your stomach.
"Show me your cuntâ he ordered.
Skepticism flickered in your eyes, but you knew better than to disobey. Slowly, you parted your legs, exposing yourself to whatever he had planned.
Youâd the most perfect little cunt heâd ever seen. Even after everything heâd put it through, it was still artwork. For a moment he thought about fucking your cunt first before punishing youâa thought he quickly dismissed. He was already tired and needed to wake up early in the morning for patrol.
He dipped his fingers into the paste, and a chill ran down your spine as he approached your exposed vagina. The substance glistened ominously in the dim light.
He knelt between your legs, the air thick with tension. He loved the smell of your cunt. "This is to remind ya of your place," he said, his voice a low growl.
The first touch of the paste on your skin burned, and you bit back a scream, tears springing to your eyes.
But the pain spread like a wildfire, a relentless fire that seemed to pierce through your very being.
âOUCH!! Ah!! No stop!â, You writhed against the restraints.
"Stay still, he commanded, his voice cold and devoid of mercy. "You brought this on yourself."
âP-please, ahhhh!!! Make it stop, dad, please!â, you screamed your lungs out. It was unlike anything youâve ever felt in your life.
"Let this be a lesson," he said finally, standing up and wiping his hands. "Next time, think twice before breaking any of my rules."
Joel stepped back to admire his handiwork.
You lay there, naked and bound to the bed, your cunt completely smeared with the thick, gray paste. You were sobbing and screaming in agony, the sound of your desperate cries echoing off the walls.
For a brief moment, Joel worried someone might hear your tortured pleas, but the nearest house was Tommy's.
You thrashed against the restraints, tears streaming down your face as you begged for mercy. "Please, Dad, please help me! It hurts so much!"
"The pain will fade soon," Joel said, his voice unnervingly calm. He watched you struggle. The sight of you in such distress brought a flicker of doubt to his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. This was for your own good, he told himself. You needed to learn. He was also hard as a fucking brick but he knew better than to bring his cock anywhere near the paste.
Tomorrow, he told himself.
âGood night.â, he said and left you there, bound and suffering. He closed the door behind him.
âNoo, daddy please donât leave me daddy!â, you screamed but the door had already fallen shut.
Now you lay there in excruciating pain, and all you could think about was how much you hated Tommy. This was all his fault. If Tommy hadn't caught you fooling around with Dean, you wouldn't have come home late, and Joel wouldn't have punished you. The anger towards Tommy burned almost as intensely as the paste on your cunt.
Each breath was a struggle, each movement a reminder of your helplessness.
Eventually, exhaustion began to overtake the pain. Your body, pushed to its limits, sought refuge in sleep. Your eyelids grew heavy, the room around you blurring into darkness. Your mind started to drift, the need for rest overpowering the torment.
In your final moments of consciousness, a single tear slipped down your cheek. As sleep claimed you, you felt sad, hurt, and furious at your uncle for betraying you like this. You had always thought Tommy was a kind man, but now you knew the truth.
âââ
The next day, you jolted awake, the horrors of the previous night still fresh in your mind.
Despite the hours of sleep, exhaustion clung to your bones. You noticed your hands were no longer bound to the bed, and the grey paste had been cleaned off your swollen, raw skin.
Joel must have come into your room early in the morning and taken care of it.
Your intimate area was still red, swollen, and throbbing with pain, but you knew you had to push through it.
Joel didnât just expect from you to be his little sex puppy. There was also a list of chores you had to do while he was at work, patrolling or working on construction aides around Jacksonville. A few of your chores were: laundry, dusting, and preparing dinner.
After his shift, he would be tired and hungry, and he demanded a hot meal ready.
You were peeling potatoes in the kitchen when a sudden knock at the door startled you. A glance at the clock told you it was too early for Joel to be home.
Wiping your hands on your t-shirt, you hobbled to the door, each step sending waves of pain through your body. You had tried icing your cunt with snow all morning, but nothing seemed to help.
Unaware of what awaited, you opened the door, and your blood ran cold as you saw who stood on the other side.
Uncle Tommy.
Fear and anger surged through you, and you instinctively tried to slam the door shut. But Tommy was faster, jamming his foot in the doorframe to stop it from closing.
He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "Now, is that any way to greet your uncle? What would Joel say if he saw this?"
Your heart pounded in your chest, rage and terror battling for dominance. Tommy's presence was a cruel reminder of who was to blame for the previous night's punishment.
"Joel isnât at home." you said, trying to keep your voice steady, hoping that this information was enough to make the man leave.
Tommy's grin widened, and he leaned closer, his dark brown eyes gleaming with amusement. "I just came to check on my favorite niece. Heard you had a rough night."
Your stomach churned, and you fought the urge to scream. "Iâm fine. Now leave me alone, please.â
Tommy's expression darkened, youâd never spoken this dismissively with him. He pushed the door open wider, forcing you to step back. "You better watch your tone, girl. Remember, I know all your little secrets. My brother wouldnât like hearing about what you were up to last night."
The threat hung heavy in the air, and you knew he was right. One word from Tommy and Joel would unleash his fury all over again. You swallowed hard, the taste of fear bitter on your tongue. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.
Tommy stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Just a little chat," he said, his tone deceptively casual. "We need to make sure you understand how things work around here."
He casually walked into the living room, glancing around as if he owned the place, before collapsing onto the couch.
He threw a look towards the kitchen. "see you're preparing dinner," Tommy said. "Hope I'm not interrupting. What's on the menu?"
"Mashed potatoes and chicken," you replied, feeling foolish for answering such a mundane question. M
Tommy's grin widened with amusement. "What a good little cook you are for my brother. He's lucky to have found such a talented little thing like you."
"What do you want here?" you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.
Tommy leaned back and spread his legs, making himself comfortable. "Oh, I'm just curious. Tell me how my brother punished you last night," he said, eyes gleaming with a mixture of interest and malice. He had obviously noticed your limping and could only imagine what twisted punishment Joel had come up with.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over. "He burned me," you finally whispered, voice cracking. "And it's all your fault!â
Confusion flickered across Tommy's face.
Mutilation just for being 15 minutes late? That seemed too extreme, even for Joel.
You walked over to the small table behind the dining area and grabbed the jar of gray paste. "He smeared this on me," you said, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and pain. "It burned like fire!â
Tommy took the jar from you and sniffed it, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Chili and ginger," he chuckled darkly. "That twisted bastardâŚâ
You stared at him, confusion mingling with your anger. "HowâŚhow do you know that?"
Tommy leaned back, holding the jar up. "Years ago, me and Joel ran with a pretty nasty raider gangâŚ.They had a particular method for breaking captivesâfemale captives. This paste was one of their favorites.â
"That soundsâŚthat sounds horrible," you whispered, horrified of the thought.
Tommy nodded, his expression serious for once. "Yeah, it was. Can't believe Joel would use this method on ya to be honest.â
You felt a wave of shame and anger. "And now you're here, rubbing it in my face?", you sniffed and looked down biting your tongue.
Tommy shrugged, his grin returning. "You've been acting up since we got here. Joel's only doing what he thinks is best.â
"Thatâs not true!" you snapped, tears finally spilling over. "I am not acting up. I got home late because of you-â
âNo? So I didnât caught you in a lie last night?â, he interrupted you. âYou lied to Joel to make out with that Dean kid, like a little slut. And you are fucking his brotherâŚSounds pretty much like acting up to me., Tommy's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and cruelty.
Your hands trembled, anger bubbling up inside you. "IâŚIâm notâŚIâm not fucking you. You blackmailed me into having sex with you.â
Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Come on, I know what rape looks like. I fucked you goodânice and hardâyou enjoyed yourself, didn't ya? âCame like a fucking bitch around my cock."
You shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your face. "I-I-I didn't! It wasâŚit was against my will."
Tommy's smirk grew. "Oh, don't cry, sweetheart. Ya just a little slut that needs cock, and Joel knows that. Why do you think he treats you like his personal whore, mh?â
"'m not his plaything!" you shouted, desperation in your voice. "I'm his...Iâm his daughter.â
Now Tommy let out a loud deep genuine laugh. He was quiet impressed with how naive you were. âBecause you call him daddy?â
âI-IâŚâ
"Do you know who Sarah is?" Tommy suddenly asked. "Did Joel ever tell you about her?"
You froze, caught off guard by the question. "I once went through Joel's bag and found a picture of a girl with 'Sarah' written on the back," you admitted. You had no idea who the girl was or why Joel kept the photo, and you had never dared to ask him about it.
"She was his daughter," Tommy said, his tone uncharacteristically somber. "She was killed right at the start of all this. Her death changed Joel."
The weight of Tommyâs words hung heavy in the air. You had always sensed there was a darkness in Joel, a wound that had never healed. You also understood what Tommy was trying to tell you with this information: you could never replace Sarah.
Tommy leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper. "Face it, sweetheart, you're nothing more than a toy for him to use and abuse."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and shaking.
âHe showed you last night how easy it is for him to hurt you. Ya think he would do that to his daughter?â, Tommy laughed once again. âDo you want my advice?â
You nodded, totally defeated still thinking about Sarah.
"Don't piss him off, or the flesh on your bones will be his next meal," Tommy said, his voice dripping with menace.
Your eyes widened in shock. Was he being literally� Would Joel really�
"And do you know what would really piss Joel off?" Tommy continued, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Hearing about watcha did last night. Kissing boys and screwing his brotherâSure, he'd be mad at me too, but you wouldn't be the first bitch we've shared."
You felt a chill run down your spine. The implications of Tommy's words were terrifying.
Tommy leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think Joel's been rough on you? You have no idea what he's capable of when he's truly angry. And if he finds out about last night... well, let's just say you'll wish you'd never been born.â
Tears welled up in your eyes, the fear and humiliation overwhelming. You could barely breathe as Tommy stood up, towering over you, his grin widening. "Sâokey, sweetheart. He wonât find out, my lips are sealed. But you know what I want from you in return?â
You nodded looking down. This felt like an inescapable nightmare. You were trapped.
âYou do what I say and my brother will never know about your little shenanigans. Alright?â
You nodded.
âNah, sweetheart. Words.â
âYes.â
âYes, what?â
âYes, sir.â
Tommy smiled. âNo, you like playing house so much with Joel, so letâs keep playing pretend. Iâm ya uncle, am I not?â
You nodded. âYes. Uncle Tommy.â
âGood little girl. So go down on your knees. Donât worry Iâll not touch your little burned cunt. But Iâm going to use that mouth of yours.â
You went down on your knees.
"We've got plenty of time before Joel gets home," Tommy said, his voice low and menacing as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He stepped out of his pants and sat back down on the couch, spreading his legs wide and propping one foot up on the table. With a rough grip, he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you closer to his balls.
"Let's see how well you can follow orders," he sneered, pulling your face towards his balls. The look in his eyes was predatory, a twisted mix of dominance and cruel amusement.
Your heart pounded in your chest.
âStart by eating my ass and work yourself up. A nice wet blowjob sâall I want. Surely my brother trained your mouth well enough for you to not fuck this up?â
You blinked in confusion. âEatingâŚeating your ass?â
Tommy laughed at your confused face. He understood immediately. âWhat? You never rimmed Joelâs ass? Seriously? Oh how nasty of me? Well, kiddo, itâs not rocket science. All ya have to do is to poke your little tongue in and out my asshole n give it a few nice licks.â
You twisted your face in disgust, making Tommy laugh again. His dick was rock hard. âDonât act all virgin, babygirl. The clock is ticking, Joel be home in an hour, letâs make this quick.â
Realizing there was no escaping this nightmare, you closed your eyes. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and you could feel the tears streaming down your face, hot and relentless. With a shuddering breath, you leaned in, spreading Tommy's ass-cheeks with both your hands as he smirked down at you.
"That's it, be a good girl," he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. His hand remained tangled in your hair, guiding you with an iron grip.
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to comply. You stick your tongue out and gave his asshole a lick. The taste was repugnant, and every fiber of your being screamed to pull away, to fight back, but you knew it was useless. You pushed your tongue as deep as you could, trying to numb your mind to the horror of it all. The musky taste mingled with your tears, each second feeling like an eternity. Your tongue was too small to reach very deep but Tommy pressed you face down as much as he could, making you hiccup while crying and trying to perform.
Tommy's laugh echoed above you, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "You're doing so well. Maybe I just tell Joel to make you rim him too?â
You shook your head, no. Much to Tommys amusement.
Your tongue could feel every hair that grew around your his asshole and the thought alone of what you were doing to this man was enough to make you gag.
âKeep the gagging for when I fuck your mouth, sweetheart.â
âTell me how much you like eating your uncles ass, babygirl.â, he said and yanked your face away from his ass.
You took a breath and murmured in between cries âI love eating my uncles ass so much!â
âGood job, keep going then put that tongue to work.â
After he was satisfied with your work on his ass, he grabbed your face and led his cock in between your lips. He fucked your mouth, quick and fast.
You were like a lifeless puppet under his grip. Your head bobbling back and forth, back and forth to the rhythm he was leading. Seeing you struggling to eat his ass had made Tommy nearly cum by itself, so it didnât take him long to leave a big load in your throat.
He finally released his grip on your hair, and you collapsed to the floor, your body trembling. Gasping for breath, you could taste the remnants of your ordeal on your lips, the salt of your tears mixed with the nasty taste of shame. Tommy leaned back into the couch, a satisfied smirk on his face as he casually put his pants back up.
You lay there on the cold, hard floor, feeling utterly broken. The room was spinning. Every breath felt like it took immense effort, each one punctuated by a sob you tried to stifle.
"Good girl," Tommy drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "You really are something special. Joel's lucky to have you."
The casual cruelty in his words cut deep. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but your body was too exhausted to move.
Tommy stretched, his demeanor completely relaxed, as if what just happened was the most natural thing in the world. âIâll be back for more, sweetheart. ," he said, standing up and looking down at you with a twisted sense of satisfaction.
The weight of his words pressed down on you, suffocating.
Tommy paused at the doorway, glancing back one last time. "Clean yourself up before Joel gets back. Wouldn't want him to see you like this, would we?"
A new wave of fear washed over you. What if Joel came home and saw you like this? What if he blamed you for what happened?
With that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence. You forced yourself to sit up.
You stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the filth and the shame. The reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable, eyes red and swollen, face streaked with tears. You scrubbed your skin until it was raw, the hot water doing little to soothe the burning inside. When you were done you went straight back to the kitchen a kept preparing dinner as if nothing had happened.
#dark!joel#dark!joel miller#joel miller#joel x reader#dark!joel x reader#tlou#mean!joel#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller#joel miller x female reader#the last of us#fanfic
330 notes
¡
View notes
Text
second chance âââ:
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. heâs a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his âking steveâ era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you heâs changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.
word count: 4.8K (oops)
warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!
notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if youâd like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!
tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletterâ @stevenoseâÂ
As a teenager, youâd grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors youâd hear about every other week.Â
But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, youâd caught the eye of so called âking Steveâ and his goons.
Youâd heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. Heâd started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin.Â
âWatcha readinâ, four eyes?â The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.
âNone of your business.â you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. âDoubt itâs near your reading level anyways, Harrington.â You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then youâd play their game right back at them.
âThatâs no way to treat your king, is it?â Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friendâs reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.
âMy king?â You repeated, raising an eyebrow. âCanât you just leave me alone?â You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.
âOooh, is this your diary or somethinâ?â she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page.Â
âDo you mind? Give it back!â youâd reached out to grab it from her, but sheâd already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head.Â
âCome and get it sweetheart,â He smirked. âMight have to get real close for it though.â Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didnât outnumber you.Â
You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. âOver my dead body, Steve.â You spat his name, and he grinned at your response.Â
âAhh, shouldnât have said that.â He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse.Â
You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movieâs description of a high school bully. But heâd destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.
And the bullying never stopped there. Heâd laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when youâd turn around every time you saw him.
So when graduation came, you couldnât be happier to get out of there and go to college.
Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, youâd abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in.Â
So youâd taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You werenât surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though youâd never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.
You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to peopleâs conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.
Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, thatâs all you could really be. Hopeful.
You were daydreaming about the life youâd build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadnât noticed the sudden new presence besides you.Â
âWatcha writinâ, pretty girl?âÂ
The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. âDo you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?â
You could hear a faint chuckle, and youâd be lying if you said it didnât sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.
âYou got me there,â the guy spoke, and you could tell heâd moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. âWas never one for books, but Iâve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?â He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.
Steve motherfucking Harrington.
Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.
You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. â... Steve Harrington?â You question, and you could tell he doesnât quite know how to react at first.
Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things heâd gone through, the connections heâd made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, heâd never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.
âI guess my reputation precedes me,â he smiled, and you think itâs the first time youâd ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. âOr maybe... Weâve met before?â
And then it clicked.
Steve had no clue who you were.
Sure, youâd developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didnât think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl heâd bullied back then.
It was true, he didnât recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, heâd definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl heâd seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.
âSo uh,â He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. âI was wondering if youâd maybe like to go out sometime. Yâknow, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever youâd like to do for fun, uh...â he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You werenât new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up.Â
âGo fuck yourself, âking Steveâ.â You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.
He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than heâd initially imagined, that he couldnât just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses.Â
âAnd-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?â Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.
Robin nods, mumbling some kind of âuhuhâ as she continues to organize the shelves.
âAnd itâs her! Itâs four eyes!â He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.
âIâm sorry, who?â Robinâs face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.
âShit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--â
His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steveâs, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.
Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a âis that herâ, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.
You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.
âAre you already registered at Family Video orââ
âNo.â You cut him off, head snapping up.
âAlright,â Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. âIâll just need your name and phone number for the registry.â
You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?
âAre you fuckingââ You looked over at his colleague. âIs he fucking with me?â
Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.
âWe need it in case you donât return the tape.â He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.
âFine,â You huffed, âbut if I get a personal call from you, Iâm changing numbers.â You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christâs sakes, this was taking agesâŚ
âThatâll be 10 dollars,â he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, âplease.â
âYeah, fine, justââ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldnât manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. âI swear itâs here, itâs just under all this other stuffâŚâ
You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. âItâs fine, I got it.â He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. âCourtesy of Steve Harrington.â
You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasnât going to cut it.
You muttered a âthanksâ, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.
âShe seems nice.â Robin said, watching Steveâs expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.
Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. âThe nicest.â He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. âIâm gonna have to give that another try though.â
Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. âGood luck with that, casa nova.â
And so he did. He kept trying. It wasnât just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when youâd daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew heâd never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.
But it wasnât fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.
You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.
âExcuse me,â a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, âIâm looking for something new to read.â
You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. âYou stalking me now, Harrington?â
He put up his hands in a defensive position. âWoah, jump to conclusions much?â He chuckled nervously. âNo, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.â He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.
âSo what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?â You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense youâd always keep one near.
âLike I told you,â he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, âIâm looking for somethinâ new to read.â
You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. âYou?â You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. âShit, I didnât even know you could read.â
He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. âIâm wounded! Iâm trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!âÂ
You couldnât help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. âI uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. Itâs about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...â You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. âOr... Something like that.â
âYeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.â He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.
âCool, cool,â now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. âIâll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.âÂ
He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadnât read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasnât very good at it. Heâd often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.
You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. âSo, I think we ran out, but uh...â You adjusted your glasses. âI can lend you my copy.â You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. âIf you want.â
Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy whoâd stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.
âTotally! Yeah, uhm, Iâll take good care of it. Like, seriously, Iâll protect it with my life.â He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was.Â
âGood,â you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. âI better not find any mud on this one.â He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.
âYou can give it back whenever youâre done.â You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. âJust come drop it off when youâre ready.â He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. âIn the exact same condition, Harrington.â Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still werenât fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really.Â
âYeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.â He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. âIâll uh... Iâll see you around.â
You smiled at how nervous he seemed. âYeah, totally, see you around Steve.â You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.
Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.
Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.
And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. Heâd rather die than let it get damaged now.
One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. Youâd both grown, matured, he just wished youâd give him more of a chance to show it.
But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.
Heâd spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. Heâd even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didnât understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the charactersâ decisions.
He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned youâd cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. Heâd be lying if he said you didnât still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving heâd changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.
A little more than a week later, heâd returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you werenât sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition youâd given it to him in.
âSo, what did you think?â Your face beamed a sort of excitement youâd only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.
What surprised you even more was that heâd actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.
âBut the ending broke my heart, seriouslyââ
âI know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!â
âUgh, I know! Man, you get it.â He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.
âYeah, I guess I do.â You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didnât like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve youâd been getting to know a little better.
Yeah, you were growing fond of him.Â
Which is exactly why youâd said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just âhanging outâ, in his own words. Heâd been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. Heâd hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.
It was already quite late when the two of you met up. Youâd been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didnât mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you.Â
You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book heâd borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.
And he was well aware of this too.
So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way heâd only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldnât keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.
âYou know,â he cleared his throat, âI thought about what happened a lot.â
You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. âMy my, whatever could you mean?â You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.
He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.
âIâm really sorry about everything I did.â He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. âSeriously, I-- Iâm just kind of... ashamed, really.âÂ
You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought heâd given this already.
âYou never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish Iâd just realized that sooner because now--â He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasnât getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robinâs need to nervously ramble entirely.
âPoint is, Iâm really, really sorry for the way I treated you.â His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. âIâve changed a lot, and I hope thatâs become at least slightly believable.â He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.
They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.
That sweet, kind smile heâd seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.
The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.
âItâs okay, Steve.â You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.
âIâm not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, donât worry.â You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.
âReally?â He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. âBecause, like-- Iâll do it. Wait--â He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. âMy dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?âÂ
You couldnât contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. âSteeeeve!â You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. âOkay, okay, I forgive you!â
He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. âAlright, well--â he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. âwould you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?â
You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than youâd imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore heâd never looked prettier.Â
âSure, Iâll go out with you.â You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. âBut only because you asked so nicely.â
He grinned. âIâd hope so, after a kiss like that.â
âShut up.â You muttered, before connecting your lips again.
He would have done so either way. Because youâd officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love.Â
#aster writes stranger things#stevemath#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#king!steve x reader#steve stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fan fic#steve harrington fic#steven harrington writing#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fan fiction#steve harrington fan fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n
3K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Won't You Suffer for the Angels to Fly?
â Joel Miller x fem!Reader - 2k
â Joel finds religion in the last place he expected to--a preacher's daughter.
â Rated MA for pure blasphemy. a lot of religious imagery and defiling of holy places--please read at your own risk. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink, HEFTY age gap (r is early 20s [unspecified], joel is 56), reader uses feminine pronouns and has female anatomy [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
â this is for my mid to plus!sized readers :) you're beautiful and valid and i love you. this was written in basically one sitting after i binged mike flanagan's midnight mass in one night. thank you to my lovelies @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @shakespeareanwannabe for talking me through this <3 title is from "heaven only knows" by bob moses
The Bible teachesâat least according to what Joel was able to gleam from the Easter serviceâthat everything happens for a reason. That every pelting raindrop in its descent from the sky, even before it lands heavy and dark in his hair or soaks the lush green landscape of Jackson, has a purpose.
Heâs struggled a lot with purpose ever since hearing that existential crisis-inspiring sermon that Tommy had dragged him to.Â
In the preacherâs defense, it went over well with everyone else. So many people are lost nowadays, adrift in a world that doesnât seem to have space for them. They need that hope, that reassurance that theyâre here for a reason. That theyâve survived hell on earth not out of luck, but out of purpose. He pulled out the big gun that everyone needed to hear on one of the two days a year that everyone in Jackson has their ears open to him. It was tactful, and Joel has to acknowledge that. Your father is clever, if not cunning.
Itâs a trait that youâve learned directly from him, whether purposeful or not. But you sat right in the front row and nodded along to every word, accepting without thought or conflict that purpose is in every action, every reaction, every change of tide and every gust of wind.
And if everything has a purpose, your purpose must be to torture him.
You never have anything but a smile on your face for Joel. Joel, a man older than your own father, a man whose hands have broken every commandment that you hold so dear. A man that should know better than to let you get under his skin and infect his dreams.
He wonders what it would be like to hold someone so perfectly untainted in hands that have killed and destroyed and sinned. Hands that are strong, hands that are experienced, hands that are greedy. Heâs certain he could teach you all about greed. He could make you beg, plead, sob for more and more and more until the only thought remaining in your pretty little head is how much you want to take from him. Until you become a glutton at the altar of his generosity.
And oh, how generous he could be once he had you begging. Minding your manners and asking nicely for what you need, of course, but he would never deny you anything you asked of him.
âCan I help you with that, Mr. Miller?â He hadnât even noticed he was strugglingâand he wouldnât be, really, if he wasnât so distracted. Putting new legs on a pew isnât the issue after all; itâs the fact that youâre sitting there on the stairs that lead up to the altar and absentmindedly swinging your legs as if youâre taunting him. As if you understand that his resolve is slipping with every passing second heâs alone in this room with you.Â
âJoel.â
âHmm?â You shift your posture to lean closer, and that skirt thatâs already way too short to be worn by the pastorâs daughter, in a house of God of all places, rides just a little further up your deliciously full thighs.Â
How is he expected to work, to keep his mind on the job, when all he wants is to know what those thighs might feel like wrapped around his head?
He clears his throat and adjusts âYou can call me Joel, sweetheart.â
He sees it, then. Itâs so subtle, but itâs not imagined. You squirm at the pet name, at the raspy drawl of his voice, and it changes everything for him.
He sees in his mind the sweet girl, barely out of her teens, who sits in the front pew with a Bible in her lap. He sees the girl who sings so sweetly to the tune of every hymn. He sees the girl whoâs so shy that she blushes every time she catches his gaze.
And then he sees everything underneath the act. He sees the girl whoâs bold enough to wear a bright red dress to the Easter service. He sees the girl who makes eye contact with him across the dining hall every night to watch the way he reacts to her lips wrapped so tantalizingly smoothly around her spoon. He sees the girl who knew he would be alone in the chapel todayâthe girl who wore an easily accessible skirt just for the occasion.
You bookmark the page youâre on and set down the book you were reading, eyes fixated on him all the while. âIs there something I can help with, Joel?â
There certainly is, and itâs not the pew heâs supposed to be repairing.
He remembers, vaguely, hearing something about how God spares guilt from sinners when sin is necessary. It must be necessary to teach you a lesson, thenâas you stride over and kneel beside him, your eyes heavy with anticipation and lashes fluttering, he doesnât feel an ounce of guilt.
âHasnât your daddy taught you not to dress like this?â He takes the hem of your skirt idly in his hand, rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and forefinger. Heâs not touching you, not really, but his hand is so achingly close. An inch or two, and heâd feel your warmthâthose plush thighs that God created to rule over Joel Millerâs mind, body, and soul; âtil death does he finally know peace, amen.
You shake your head and even manage to seem smug as you say, âNo. He just teaches everyone else to resist temptation.â
âIâve never been much good at that,â he murmurs.
He thinks that you know that. He thinks that youâre his crucible, his most important moral trialâthat maybe, if he can turn you away now, heâs a good man.
Joel Miller is not a good man. His kiss is crushing. Itâs hellfire, itâs brimstone, itâs everything youâve been taught to fear your entire life. You melt into it so prettily, accepting your damnation with parted lips and eager eyes. A wanton moan gets caught in your throat when his hand slips further up your skirt.Â
No pantiesâin a place of worship, no less. He should bend you over his knee for this transgression, make sure you understand how filthy you are. But thereâs hardly time for that now, not when heâs even more desperate than you are. And you are desperateâdripping down his fingers into the palm of his hand as your teeth leave perfect little indents in the plush skin of your bottom lip.
His free hand grips your chin firmly, guiding your eyes to his. He wants to see your depravity, the flickering embers of lust in your eyes as you come on his fingers and cry out for salvation from the all-consuming pleasure.
âOh my Godââ
His hand tightens around your jaw just the slightest bit in warning. âNo, baby. You moan my name when Iâm touchinâ you.â
And you doâthighs trembling, eyes watering, you cry out his name like a prayer as your cunt pulses and squeezes around his willing fingers.
Thereâs an unpracticed tremble to your hand as you reach to work open his belt, and it makes his cock throb under the confining material of his jeans.
You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours, so desperate for it that youâre nearly in tears when he pulls your fingers away from the buttons on his shirt. Heâs not foolishâno one steps foot into this place during the week, but he knows better than to tempt Godâs sense of humor. This has to be quick and contained, and you know it too; you picked your little skirt for exactly that reason.
He catches a glimpse of your glistening need as you settle over his thighs, and once again he battles to resist temptation. He whispers in your ear as you settle your chest against his and grind that fluttering, sensitive cunt along his lengthâpromises himself more than you, really, that heâll bury his face in your folds and drink from you next time. Next timeâthe promise makes you clench impossibly hard around nothing.
His eyes have never been quite as heavy as they are when you start to sink that dripping heat down his cock. Head tipped back, throat exposed, completely at your mercy. He has to force himself to look up at youâto worship the goddess enshrined on his altar, all his for the taking.
You bite into your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as your hips settle against his, completely overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his size. Heâs a challenge, certainly, but one that you are determined to overcome.Â
âEasy, baby girl,â he grumbles as you start to rock against him before youâre truly accommodated. His hands rest heavy on your hipsânot anchoring, but encouraging. As wrongâas depravedâas this may be, he wants you to enjoy it without pain. âThatâs right, nice and slow.â
It doesnât stay that way, though; the desperation mounts to a boiling point until youâre bouncing fervently in his lap. Itâs delicious, the way the thick head of him drags against something deep and sensitive within you. He guides you when your thighs start to burn, grip tightening enough to leave forbidden bruises in the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth presses to yours, breathing the oxygen straight from your lungs as he presses his hips up. Thereâs nothing you can do but take it, pliant in his hold, head rolling back to accommodate the wet drag of his mouth and the tickling scratch of his beard against your throat.
He feels it before you doâa subtle flutter as your cunt tries sucking him in even deeper. And maybe, if he was a good man, heâd lean away from it and have mercy on you. But heâs not a good manâheâs a greedy, wanton, desperate man. He angles his hips and thrusts as hard as he can, shoving you into your release with force.
You overflow with it; gushing over him like a flood, staining his hastily pushed down jeans and the floorboards beneath.
He pushes you onto your back like youâre weightless, adrenaline coursing as he starts to slam into you. Itâs not polite or sweet or lovingâhe fucks into you and empties himself like an animal. He growls deep in his throat as his cock pulses within you, instructing you to âtake it, baby girlâ as if youâd consider anything less.Â
You donât know where your release ends and his begins. All you know is his weight on top of you, his mouth on your jaw, the collective breathless pants that fill the room as you both come down together.
Youâre not sure how long it is before he pulls out of your warmth with an actual whine, breath heavy against your neck where his face is so comfortably nestled.
And you start to laugh, because you wish youâd worn panties after allâyou donât know how youâre going to get home with the mess of cum thatâs dripping down the curve of your ass.
He even chuckles with you, until he tears his eyes away from your blissed face and sees the cross hanging heavy on the far wall.
âTh-thatâŚâ he gulps. âThat canât happen again.â
âIt can,â you assure him, and he supposes youâre right.
You keep your head down and your eyes to yourself on Sunday, even as you spot the barely-noticeable stain on the hardwood floor next to the newly-repaired pew on the right side of the aisle. Itâs so faint that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it, but itâs glaringly obvious to you. You should be ashamed; you should be begging for forgiveness. But then you meet Joelâs watchful eyes, and the shame washes away. How can you feel guilty over an act of worship?
THE END
â Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!
â Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :)
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller one shot#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us smut#the last of us one shot#joel tlou#cece writes
798 notes
¡
View notes
Text
@steddieangstyaugust Day 16: Halloween

Steve used to love Halloween.
His mom would always get him any costume he wanted and it made him feel like the coolest kid in school.
When he was six he was a vampire with a beautiful velvet cloak.
When he was eight he was an astronaut and told everyone he'd go to the moon one day.
When he was ten he was a knight and one of the boys in school dressed as a dragon let him pretend to defeat him.
When he was twelve he was prince charming and wore a glittering crown, but it was the last time his mom took him trick or treating.
When he was fourteen he didn't mind because he and Tommy got to go by themselves dressed as zombies and chased everyone they saw.
When he was sixteen he stopped liking Halloween, it was bullshit anyway.
When he was eighteen he spent the night watching movies with Robin but stopped the scary ones after they saw a kid dressed as a sailor at the door.
Now he is nineteen and he has Eddie.
Eddie always loved Halloween.
He didn't have the best costumes but he made do. Free candy was more food than he'd get most weeks so he made sure it lasted.
When he was six his mom helped cut holes in a sheet and called him her little ghost.
When he was eight he wrapped himself in toilet paper once his dad was passed out and couldn't yell at him for wasting it.
When he was ten his uncle stitched fabric from the thrift store and made him big green dragon wings, he'd wear them the following year too.
When he was twelve the drama department let him keep his lion costume from the play to use for Halloween.
When he was fourteen he dressed as a rockstar and told all his friends they'd be famous one day.
When he was sixteen he spent more time selling at parties than dressing up.
When he was eighteen he got drunk and tried not to think about how he had to repeat all this bullshit again.
Now he is twenty.
He's twenty and he has a beautiful boyfriend who doesn't have the best memories of Halloween. A broken childhood like his, different but still the same.
He pulls those old dragon wings out of the closet and clips a chestplate to his personal knight in shining armor.
"Are there any stories where the knight saves the dragon instead of defeating him?"
"Yeah, but you already wrote it, sweetheart."
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#angst#freaky friday#halloween#steddieangstyaugust
338 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Midnight Snack Mystery (Simon 'Ghost' Fic) Part 3
Wife! Reader Pregnant! Reader Hungry! Reader Possessive! Ghost Possessive! Simon 'Ghostâ Riley Possessive! Simon Ghost Riley Good Cook! Simon Ghost Riley Husband! Simon 'Ghostâ Riley Hungry Wife! Reader By this time he is already Captain or Major! or Lieutenant Col! Simon 'Ghostâ Riley Edit: P.S. I did some light edits, you may re-read again if you want. Parts;
Part 1, Part 2,
Long, not so-long, but light hearted read. Warning:Â Donât read when hungry!!
Summary:
A few years later, Y/N is pregnant again with their second daughter, and the midnight cravings are back with a vengeance. Determined to sneak out for a late-night snack, she throws on Simonâs hoodie and tiptoes toward the door with her eco bag in hand.
But just as sheâs about to make her escape, a tiny voice stops her in her tracks.
âMummy?â
She turns to find Tommy standing in the hallway, arms crossed, her scowl a perfect mimic of her fatherâs.
âWhere are you going?â Tommy demands, her tone filled with suspicion.
âErâŚâ Y/N hesitated, caught in the act. âJust getting some fresh air, sweetheart.â
Tom unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips, adopting a stance that was pure Simon. âTake me with you, or Iâll tell Pa.â
This time, Simonâs mini-Simon, Tommy, is on guard, making it harder for Y/N to sneak out for snacks without bribing her little one. Nothing gets past her, especially when sheâs armed with the perfect mimic of her fatherâs scowl and a blackmail threat to get in on the late-night adventure.
----------
The house was silent, the soft hum of the heater the only sound breaking the stillness. Y/N shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable with her ever-growing belly. She glanced at the clock. Midnight. SimonâPa, as their daughter fondly called himâwas upstairs, sound asleep, snoring lightly. Their four-year-old daughter, Tommy, was supposedly fast asleep in her room.
At least, Y/N hoped she was.
Her stomach gave a low, insistent growl, and she sighed. Kebabs or noodles? The decision was almost as urgent as her craving. Slipping on Simonâs hoodie, the one that fit her best these days, she made her way quietly to the kitchen. She grabbed her eco bag from the counter and tiptoed to the door, thinking sheâd managed a clean getaway.
âMummy?â
Y/N froze, one hand on the door handle, the other clutching the bag. Turning around slowly, she spotted a tiny figure standing in the hallway. Their daughter, Tom, with her arms crossed, her expression a perfect mimic of Simonâs famous scowl.
âWhere are you going?â Tom asked, her little voice serious.
âErâŚâ Y/N hesitated, caught in the act. âJust getting some fresh air, sweetheart.â
Tom tilted her head, skeptical. âWith the snack bag?â
Y/N winced. Nothing gets past this one. âItâs⌠for emergencies,â she offered lamely.
âLike kebabs?â Tom pressed, her piercing gaze locking onto her motherâs.
Y/N let out a defeated sigh. âNot kebabs. Maybe noodles. Mummy hasnât decided yet.â
Tom unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips, adopting a stance that was pure Simon. âTake me with you, or Iâll tell Pa.â
Y/N gasped. âTom, thatâs not fair!â
Tom didnât flinch, her little face a mask of determination. âWhatâs fair is you taking me too.â
Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hand. âTommy, itâs really late. You should be in bed, my darling.â
Tom stared at her, her expression unyielding, and the look on her face was so similar to Simonâs that it was almost uncanny. She crossed her arms and gave a firm nod. âBut Iâm your partner.â
Y/N hesitated, her exhaustion warring with the stubborn little person in front of her. There was no arguing with that faceâTom looked exactly like Simon when he was determined, and that made it impossible to say no.
That did it. Y/N burst into laughter, the sheer absurdity of her pint-sized interrogator hitting her all at once. âAlright, fine, my little accomplice. Go put on your shoes.â
Tomâs face lit up, her scowl replaced by a victorious grin. She toddled off to grab her sneakers, and Y/N shook her head in resignation. This was definitely Simonâs childâwatchful, clever, and impossible to outmaneuver.
As Y/N waited by the door, she muttered to herself, âSimonâs going to have my head for this.â
But she knew the truth: heâd laugh first.
----------
The noodle shop was alive with the quiet clatter of utensils and the occasional murmur of late-night diners. It was 1 a.m., and Y/N was settling into a booth with Tom beside her, her eco bag perched at her feet. The familiar aroma of broth, spices, and freshly cooked dumplings filled the air, easing her pregnancy cravings even before the food arrived.
Tommy was seated primly on the booth cushion, her legs dangling off the edge, her tiny hands placed flat on the table like she was conducting serious business. The server had brought over a booster seat to make sure she could reach her food properly, and her miniature bowl of noodles and dumplings looked comically small compared to the towering one in front of Y/N.
âThis smells good,â Tom declared, leaning forward to inspect her bowl with a scrutinizing gaze that was pure Simon.
âGlad you approve, my love,â Y/N teased, already twirling noodles onto her chopsticks. âTuck in before it gets cold.â
Tom was handed a fork and spoon, which she grasped with both hands, still trying to look very grown-up, despite her tiny frame.
Tommy didnât need to be told twice. She attacked the noodles with an enthusiasm that rivaled her fatherâs, slurping loudly and somehow managing not to spill a drop on her little shirt. Y/N watched in aweâand slight horrorâas her daughter demolished the dumplings one by one, pausing only to sip the broth with noisy satisfaction. Tom ate with a methodical precision that could only have been inherited from Simon. Y/N found herself wondering if this was what life was going to be likeâher house full of tiny Simons. Maybe she'd have a whole squadron of them in the future. A little army of Simon look-alikes, (A/N: Yes it will be Y/N!! Without a bloody doubt, it will be! LOL!!) all scowling at her like sheâs their next mission. Each one cunning, smart, methodical, and observantâprobably plotting their next move with the precision of seasoned operatives. And who knows? Maybe theyâd take over the world while theyâre at it.
When Tom finally leaned back with a content sigh, her bowl empty, Y/N blinked at her. âTommy, you⌠you finished all of it? Even the soup?â
Tom dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, mimicking Simonâs precise mannerisms, and nodded. âYep. It was really good. I think this is why I like noodles so much.â
Y/N frowned, confused. âWhyâs that, sweetheart?â
Tom tilted her head, her tone confident as if stating the most obvious fact. â'Cause you ate this when I was in your tummy. So I ate it too.â
Y/N blinked, biting back a laugh. âThatâs⌠not exactly how it works, sweetheart.â
Tom nodded firmly, undeterred. âPa told me! He said you sneaked out at night to eat noodles and kebabs when I was in your tummy.â She leaned closer, lowering her voice like it was a big secret. âHe said you were sneaky!â
Y/N paused, the chopsticks frozen in her hand. âOh, did he now?â
Tommy puffed up her chest, clearly proud of her next statement. âUh-huh! And Pa said I have to watch you. So if you sneak out again, I gotta tell him.â
Y/N paused mid-sip of her drink, trying not to laugh at how seriously Tom was taking her "mission." She leaned in, lowering her voice like they were sharing a secret. âWell, remember, sweetheart, we made a deal before we snuck out, didnât we? You come with me to get noodles and dumplings, but you donât tell Pa, right?â
Tom looked at her, big eyes thoughtful for a moment, then nodded decisively. âI didnât tell him yet. But Iâm gonna tell him later... when Iâm done with my dumplings.â She took a deep breath, clearly considering her options. âBut only if I have two plates!â
Y/N laughed, giving in to her daughter's negotiation skills. âAlright, two plates it is. But no telling Pa, okay?â
Tom grinned widely, pleased with herself. âDeal!â
Y/N shook her head, watching her daughter dig into her dumplings with enthusiasm. "I swear, youâre already better at this than I am."
----------
The walk back home was peaceful, the neighborhood quiet and safe under the soft glow of the streetlights. Y/Nâs hand was clasped tightly in Tomâs, the small, reassuring presence of her daughter grounding her as they walked. They passed familiar houses, the sounds of distant laughter or the occasional door closing marking the stillness of the late hour.
As they rounded a corner, a blue-and-yellow police car cruised by, the flashing lights briefly lighting up the streets. Y/N gave a friendly wave, recognizing the constables in the car.
âMrs. Riley, what are you doing so late at this hour?â one of the constables called out, rolling down the window. But before Y/N could answer, Tom spoke up, pointing proudly toward the direction of the 24-hour shops.
âWe had noodles!â she declared with all the seriousness of a seasoned informant.
The constable laughed, clearly amused. âI see, pregnancy cravings, is it?â He looked from Tom to Y/N with a knowing smile. âWell, in that case, you should try the Thai place down the street, just past the corner. Itâs open almost 24 hours, too, and the best Pad Thai and Tom Yum soup Iâve ever had. Might be just what you need for the next craving!â
Y/Nâs eyes lit up, her mind already racing with the idea of another midnight adventure. âOh, that sounds perfect,â she said, already planning her next excursion. The thought of another late-night snack, especially something spicy, made her feel even more excited about the next time sheâd get a craving.
The constable gave a friendly wave. âEnjoy! And donât let her overdo it, Mrs. Riley.â
Y/N laughed, waving back. âIâll try not to!â
With a final wave, the car drove off, its lights fading as they disappeared around the corner. Y/N and Tom continued their walk home, Tom skipping along beside her.
----------
The house was quiet when they returned, the night still and calm. Y/N gently eased the front door shut, careful not to wake Simon. She could hear the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the distant tick of the clock on the wall. With Tomâs small hand still in hers, Y/N quietly made her way up the stairs, the weight of her pregnant belly a reminder of just how far along she was with their second child. Despite the extra weight, she still felt strong, lifting Tom with ease as she reached the top of the stairs.
Tomâs little arms wrapped around her neck as she carried her to her room, her face still holding the serious expression from their late-night snack mission.
Once inside, Y/N carefully set Tom down on the bed, smoothing her hair back. âAlright, sweetheart. I need you to listen to me for a second.â
Tom, ever the attentive listener, sat up straighter, giving her mother a look that seemed to say she was ready for anything.
Y/N sighed, brushing a hand through her own hair. âYou canât come with me next time. Itâs just too late, and it doesnât feel right. You need your sleep, darling. And if Pa finds out, wellâŚâ She trailed off, her mind already racing through what Simon might say. âI donât even want to think about it.â
Tom, unimpressed, crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Y/N. âOk, when I catch you next time, Iâm telling Pa.â
Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by her daughterâs confidence, and then chuckled to herself. âYou really are your fatherâs daughter, arenât you?â
Tom gave her a smug nod, as if she already knew the outcome of their conversation.
Y/N sighed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. âAlright, Iâve got a better idea. How about this?â She leaned in, lowering her voice like they were sharing a secret. âEvery time I go on one of these midnight snack runs, Iâll bring you food. Iâll even pack it in your lunchbox for the next day. But youâve got to promise me you wonât tell Pa. Deal?â
Tomâs eyes widened at the mention of food, and she clearly gave it some thought, her little face scrunching up in deep contemplation. After a moment, she gave a firm nod, as if agreeing to some sort of international treaty. âDeal,â she said with finality.
Y/N smiled, ruffling Tomâs hair. âGood. Now, you get some sleep, alright?â
Tom grinned, snuggling down into her blankets, her little face full of determination. âIâm gonna sleep, Mummy. But next time, if you donât bring me goodies, Iâm telling Paâ.â
Y/N chuckled, pressing a kiss to her daughterâs forehead. âAlright, alright, Iâll make sure to bring you something. Iâll even set a reminder on my phone so I donât forget.â
Tom nodded seriously, as if the agreement had been made and couldnât be undone.
As she turned off the light and quietly closed the door behind her, Y/N couldnât help but wonder if she was really dealing with a four-year-oldâor a tiny Simon in the making.
----------
From that day forward, Tomâs lunchboxes became a daily display of culinary variety. Every day was a different adventure in flavor. One day, she'd open it to find a neat little compartment of Pad Thai, the noodles perfectly tangled with a side of deep-fried spring rolls. Tom wouldnât show it off to anyone, of courseâshe was far too busy eating it, enjoying every bite without the slightest intention of sharing. Her classmates often stared at her, wondering how she got such interesting lunches, but Tom didnât care. She was too focused on making sure she had enough to finish all of it herself.
Other days, her lunchbox contained soupy noodles, which Tom would confidently ask her teachers to reheat in the staff pantry. Her teachers, always polite but visibly puzzled, couldnât help but wonder how a four-year-old even knew about the pantryâor the microwave, for that matter. "How does she know this stuff?" one of them muttered. "She mustâve learned that from someone," another added, trying to figure out who in her family would teach her such a skill.
Then, there were the days when sheâd have kebabsâskewered and seasoned to perfectionâserved with rice that looked like it belonged in a restaurant rather than a preschool lunchbox. The teachers had stopped asking questions and now just marveled at the variety. It was the kind of bento box youâd expect from a food vlogger, crafting meals so impressive they could double as content for her side hustle selling bento boxes.
Every day brought something newâmooping and rice, skewers, or dumplings. The teachers exchanged amused glances, quietly wondering how Y/N managed to whip up such gourmet meals for a four-year-old, while Tom ate like a tiny food critic savoring every bite.
"Do you want me to help you with that, Tom?" one of the teachers asked, eyeing the spiced meat with curiosity.
Tom shook her head, grinning as she wiped her mouth. "No thanks! Iâve got it," she said cheerfully.
----------
It was finally time for Y/N to settle into life with their second daughter, affectionately nicknamed 'Bubby' for her round, bao-like shape. Tommy had come up with the nickname when she first saw her new sister. The little oneâs round, stout body reminded Tommy of the bao buns Y/N had brought home during her midnight snack runs while pregnant. Every time Y/N would sneak out for her late-night cravings, Tommy would get her favorite buns with different tasty fillings, making it a secret mission the two of them sharedâno one else knew about the midnight snack operation. And when Tommy first saw Bubby, it wasnât just her round shape that reminded her of the bao. She also realized that Bubby, just like her, had inherited their father Simonâs featuresâadding another Simon/Mini-Simon minion to the familyâs ever-growing ranks.
As Simon was getting ready for work, dressed in his military uniform and grabbing his gear, he paused for a moment. He still needed to drop Tommy off at school before heading to base. After his work, heâd pick Tommy up and head to the hospital to check on Y/N and their new daughter.
"Tommy? Love, what do you want for lunch? I'll make it for you," Simon called out casually, already reaching for the lunchbox he knew Tommy preferred.
"No thank you, I'll do it myself," came Tommy's reply, as she reached for the lunchbox Simon had picked up. Her answer was delivered with the kind of grown-up tone that made Simon raise an eyebrow.
Simon stood frozen for a moment, watching his daughter. Tommy was opening the fridge, methodically grabbing containers, one after another. She began placing them on the floor with the precision of a seasoned chef. Dumplings, spring rolls, baos, skewers, wrapsâeverything neatly organized and ready to be devoured.
As Tommy rearranged the glass containers back into the fridge with an intense focus, Simon began to realize what was happening. His eyes widened as he saw her prepare her lunch.
"Wait a minute..." Simon muttered, the realization dawning on him. "Sheâs been doing the midnight snack runs again, hasnât she?"
Simon sighed, rubbing his temple in exasperation. His wife, the master of stealth, had successfully pulled off yet another late-night snack excursion. He was the 'Ghost,' sharp and observant, but when it came to Y/N, it seemed like he never quite won. There were plenty of times he had nearly caught her in the act, only to end up carrying her back to bed, sleepily protesting as he tucked her in. He should have known better than to be so complacent. Y/N always found a way to sneak past his vigilance.
Tommy didnât look up from her task, but there was a small smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. She was fully complicit in this whole secret snack operation. Simon had known his wife was sneaky, but seeing his daughter involved was both hilarious and concerning.
"So⌠I thought you were my little informant, huh?" Simon mused aloud, crossing his arms. "Your motherâs been bribing you with bao and dumplings? Whatâs next, is she going to start making you homemade kimchi to keep the secret safe?"
Tommy finished arranging the fridge and looked up at her father with a perfectly serious face. "I'm not telling you anything," she replied cryptically, her tone sharp and dry, laced with just enough sass to make Simon raise an eyebrow. The way she delivered the line was pure Simonâsharp, clever, and packed with the same infuriating sass sheâd clearly inherited from him.
Simon stared at her for a moment, blinking in surprise. âOh, so youâre keeping secrets now, huh?â he said, shaking his head in disbelief. âAlright, Tommy, youâve got some nerve. Iâll have to bring out the big guns for this one,â he added, tryingâand failingânot to laugh. âYou wait until weâre in that hospital room later. Iâll have you and your mum both spilling the beans. Trust me, Iâll get the answers I need.â
Tommy just shrugged, clearly unfazed by her fatherâs playful threat. âIâm invoking my right to remain silent until I get a lawyer,â she said with a straight face, the words coming out like she had practiced them in front of a mirror.
Simon blinked, momentarily taken aback, before a smirk slowly spread across his face. He hadnât expected his four-year-old to sound like a seasoned criminal in an interrogation room.
âAlright, you,â he said, already mentally planning his "interrogation" methods for later. "But Iâm not going easy on you."
Tommy grabbed her lunchbox, slipped on her shoes, and skipped toward the door, ready for school. Simon watched her go, shaking his head and muttering to himself, âI think weâve created a monster.â
----------
The hospital room was quiet except for the soft sounds of baby Bubbyâs breathing as Y/N cradled her daughter in her arms. Tommy, sitting beside her mother on the bed, couldnât take her eyes off the new little bundle of joy. Bubby, with her round, bao-like face, looked even more adorable in person. Tommy couldnât help but laugh inwardly, seeing how much Bubby looked like Simonâand like herself. It was as if Y/N was just popping out tiny Simon minions, each one more determined than the last. Tommy was sure that mischievous glint would show up in Bubbyâs eyes sooner rather than later.
Tommy reached over, gently poking her sister's cheek. The softness of Bubby's skin made Tommy grin, her little finger pressing into the small, chubby face.
"Bubbyâs so squishy," she said, in awe, her eyes sparkling as she admired the newest addition to their family.
Simon, who had been quietly observing, had other plans. He sat up, crossed his arms, and his expression shifted to something more serious. "Alright, Tommy," he said with a playful smirk, "Now that Bubbyâs here, I think itâs time for a little chat. You seem to be complicit in your motherâs midnight snack runs, huh? I told you to keep an eye on her, not join in on the crime."
Tommy gave him a look, the same scowl Simon often wore when he was up to something, and crossed her arms. Y/N tried not to laughâTommy had definitely inherited her fatherâs judgy scowl along with his sass. It was like Simon vs. Mini Simon in that moment.
Before Simon could continue, Tommy turned to her mother, the way a seasoned criminal lawyer might advise their client. "Mummy," she said, her voice full of seriousness, "itâs fine now. Don't worry! The crimeâs no longer valid." She paused, adding with a nonchalant shrug, "Bubbyâs born. Itâs all over now."
Simon and Y/N both stared at her, mouths slightly agape, unable to process what had just happened. Y/N blinked, her surprise evident. "What do you mean, 'the crimeâs no longer valid'?" she asked, thoroughly confused by Tommyâs logic. But Y/N giggled, seeing how Tommy was talking just like Simon.
Tommy looked at her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Itâs simple, Mum. Bubby's born now. The midnight snack runâitâs not a thing anymore. Itâs done. Thereâs no crime anymore, right?" She gave her father a smug look. "Itâs case closed, Pa', "
Simon sat there, frozen for a moment. His daughter, acting like a pro in the world of criminal defense, had just completely thrown him off course. He leaned back, jaw hanging slightly agape. "Where did you learn to talk like that?" he asked, genuinely baffled.
Y/N couldnât hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. âSimon, she is so you!â she giggled. âSheâs got your logic, your sass, your everything!â Still trying to wrap her head around Tommyâs "legal logic," Y/N added with a small laugh, âWell, I suppose we canât argue with that.â
Simon, recovering quickly, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, itâs not over, young lady," he said with a grin. "Weâll see if your sister agrees with that logic when sheâs old enough to understand."
Tommy, unfazed, poked Bubby's cheek again and smiled, clearly enjoying how sheâd handled the "interrogation."
Tommy narrowed her eyes at Simon, like he was the one being questioned. âYou think you can stop me?â she asked confidently. âIâve got my ways.â She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. âAnd Bubbyâs already in on it. Sheâs hooked.â
Simon raised an eyebrow. âHowâs that?â
Tommy smirked, her eyes gleaming. âSimple, Pa'. She ate her first bao while she was still in Mummyâs tummy. Sheâs already part of the team.â
Simon blinked a few times, then chuckled, shaking his head. âOh, this is not good,â he muttered, clearly impressed but slightly defeated.
Tommy, satisfied with her response, poked Bubbyâs cheek again and grinned.
----------
Time had passed, and Y/N was now pregnant with their third childâa son this time. One late night, unable to resist the cravings that had been haunting her, she carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Simon. Pulling on his oversized hoodie, she tiptoed toward the stairs, determined to make a quick escape to the 24-hour shops. A bao bun or two sounded perfect, and with Simon fast asleep, she was sure she could pull it off.
But the moment she reached the bottom of the staircase, the hallway light flicked on.
Standing there, arms crossed and expressions as stern as Simonâs during a debrief, were Tommy and Bubby. Their faces bore such an uncanny resemblance to their fatherâs that Y/N had to do a double take. It was as if Simon himself had multiplied and stationed his miniatures to catch her in the act.
âMum,â Tommy began, her tone low and exacting, just like Simonâs when he was about to interrogate someone. âWhere do you think youâre going this late?â
Bubby, standing slightly behind her big sister but mirroring her crossed arms and tilted head, chimed in. âYeah, where you goinâ, Mum? Paâ told you to stay in bed.â
Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard by the sight of her two âlittle watchdogs.â She swallowed a laugh and tried to play innocent. âI was just going out for a little snack run, thatâs all. Nothing to worry about.â
Tommyâs eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at her. âTo the shops? At this hour? Paâ wouldnât be happy if he knew.â
Bubby nodded emphatically, a mischievous glint in her eyes. âYouâre gonna be in so much trouble, Mum. Weâll tell Paâ.â
âWait, wait,â Y/N interjected, holding up her hands as if trying to calm down a pair of constables. âThereâs no need for that, alright? Itâs just a quick trip, and Iâll be back before anyone notices. You two should go back to bed.â
But the children werenât letting her off that easy.
Tommy smirkedâSimonâs smirk. âNot a chance. Either you take us with you, or weâre waking Paâ right now.â
Y/Nâs mouth opened in disbelief. âTake you with me? Itâs late, and youâve got school tomorrow!â
Bubby shrugged, her small arms still crossed. âThen weâll just tell Paâ. Heâs really good at waking up when he hears something suspicious.â She turned to Tommy. âShould we call him now?â
Before Y/N could respond, a low, familiar voice cut through the tension.
âCall me for what?â
All three turned toward the stairs to see Simon standing there, his hair disheveled and his arms crossed. Despite his rumpled appearance, his sharp gaze landed squarely on Y/N, then shifted to their two little accomplices.
âMum was trying to sneak out!â Tommy declared triumphantly, pointing at Y/N. âShe was going to the shops!â
Bubby nodded, backing her up. âWe caught her!â
Simon raised an eyebrow, looking between his wife and their pint-sized detectives. âDid you now?â he said, his voice calm but tinged with amusement.
Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. âSimon, itâs just a snack run. I wasnât trying to start a rebellion.â
Simonâs lips twitched into a smirk as he descended the stairs. âYouâve been sneaky about it before. How many times did I almost catch you and carry you back to bed? Thought youâd learned by now that I donât miss much.â
Y/N sighed again, giving Simon a pointed look but saying nothing.
Tommy and Bubby exchanged looks, grinning as if theyâd won a great victory.
âWell,â Simon said, placing a hand on Tommyâs shoulder and another on Bubbyâs. âSince weâre all up now, and apparently this is a family operation, why donât we all go together?â
Y/N blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. âYouâre serious?â
Tommy and Bubby cheered, running to grab their shoes and jackets.
Y/N threw her hands up in mock defeat. âFine, fine...â
As they headed out the door, Simon leaned down toward Y/N, a knowing smirk on his face. âYouâre not sneaky, love. Youâve just been lucky.â He tilted his head toward their children, who were already walking ahead, excitedly debating their snack options. âBut now Iâve got reinforcements. No more bribing your way out of this.â
Y/N shook her head and laughed. âOh, weâll see about that.â
A/N: Well, I might do a part 4? With their third child? Who knows, if another silly idea pops up!! LOL!! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one!! Cheers!!
P.S. There are actual 4-year-olds out there who talk scarily like Tommy and Bubby. It's honestly terrifyingâhard to get past them when theyâre on guard! đ
(From experience!)
Part 1, Part 2,
#Ghost#Simon 'Ghost' Riley#Simon Ghost Riley#Ghost COD#Ghost Call of Duty#Ghost x Reader#Ghost x Wife! Reader#Ghost x You#Ghost x Y/N#Ghost x OC#Simon Riley x Reader#Simon Riley x You#Simon Riley Imagines#Simon Ghost Riley Imagines#Simon 'Ghost' Riley Imagines#Simon Riley x OC#Simon Riley x Y/N#Ghost Fan Fic#Ghost FanFic#Simon Riley FanFic#Simon Riley Fan Fiction#Simon Riley FanFiction#Simon Ghost Riley x You#Simon Ghost Riley x Reader#Simon Ghost Riley x Y/N#Simon Ghost x Reader#Simon Ghost x You#Simon Ghost Fluff
333 notes
¡
View notes
Note
need a dom thomas shelby fic with bimbo reader!!! ur so good at it!!
thank you so so much !!! hope I did this request justice lol
Just wanna talk | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader
prompt: Tommy gets fed up with your rambling and decides to shut you up
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), mean/misogynistic Tommy, daddy kink, free use kink implied kinda, creampie
*not proofread*
âDaddy,â you huffed frustratingly for what seemed like the millionth time while patting his thigh, âdaddy!â
Tommy, like always, was working. Thatâs all he seemed to do these days, and you were starting to grow sick of it.
You kneeled beside his office chair while wearing your favourite little dress without any panties. As you were running your hand along his thigh and hoping that the touches combined with the name calling would be enough to grab his attention, it seemed like Tommy just had one too many things going on today.
âIâve missed you, daddy, I just wanna talk âŚâ
Apparently, that was the thing that pushed him over the edge.
âTalk? Talk? All you do is fucking talk.â He spat at you suddenly.
With a groan, Tommy slammed his pen down and then nudged his chair back, standing to his feet as he hastily undid his pants. You were about to follow his lead, but he aggressively makes you stay down on your knees, âno, stay put.â
You bite your lip and bat your lashes while looking up at him, bringing your hand forward to palm him through the fabric.
âAfter a long, hard day, I donât wanna fuckinâ talk, sweetheart. I want you either on your knees, ready to suck my cock, or in bed with your legs spread for me. Understood?â
He swats your hand away and tugs his trousers down just enough to free his semi hard cock.
As youâre about to reach for his length again he grabs your hair and the base of his cock, shoving himself inside your mouth before you can even process it.
You whine out of surprise and gag slightly around him as he begins to fuck your mouth. He pants and groans at your warmth, dipping his head back before bringing his gaze back down to watch your lips stretch around his cock.
âThis is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to get so fuckinâ fed up with your blabbering that I just shut you up with my cock?â Tommy growled through gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking your throat without care.
You can only whimper around him, and your eyes squeeze shut as your mascara begins to run down your cheeks. You instinctively place a hand on his thigh as a weak attempt to get him to slow down, he only slaps your hand away continues his harsh pace.
âNo, no, you take what daddy gives you.â
As if you werenât already turned on enough, Tommyâs unwavering dominance gets you wetter. He doesnât care what you say or think, all he cares about doing is getting off while reminding you of your place as a wife.
Suddenly, his rough pace halts, and your nose is now pressed against his trimmed patch of pubic hair. You gag again and your eyes brim with fresh tears as you struggle to breathe.
âLook at me, princess,â Tommy groans sweetly with that deliciously deep voice of his. Through tear soaked lashes, you stare up at him, feeling your cunt burn hotter as he moans at the sight.
âMy pretty girl, such a good little cock sucker âŚâ he praises, knowing exactly how to push all your right buttons. Sprinkle in a few sweet words while degrading you, he is your husband, after all.
He starts to pull you off and brings his slick cock right back to you, his hot member lying across your face demeaningly while his fingers remain locked in your hair.
He doesnât need to say anything, you know what he wants. Like the good girl that you are, you lick and suck on his balls gently, making sure to maintain eye contact while you do it. Tommy stands there mesmerized, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he groans a few curses and praises.
Finally, he releases his grip onto your hair- just before pushing you down onto your back, shoving you harshly against the ground as you mewl.
His large, strong hands turn you onto your stomach and as you begin to squirm Tommy plants his hand firmly on your back, forcing you down while he straddles your thighs.
He flips up the end of your skirt and spreads your lips apart, watching hungrily as your leaky little cunt clenches around nothing. Youâre so desperate to be ravished itâs pathetic, but Tommy loves it. All of it.
He loves how he can use whichever holes he likes, whenever he likes, he loves how he can treat you like a filthy whore and all youâll do is come crawling back begging for more.
âJesus, look at that âŚâ Tommy sighs, using his thumb guide his tip towards your opening, pushing his head in without any resistance. You whimper softly at the sensation before Tommy abruptly slides his entire member inside, his cock now resting painfully deep inside you.
He doesnât stay put for long and he quickly develops a steady, harsh pace that already has you gasping for air. Your entire body is buzzing, intoxicating doses of pain and pleasure flood your system.
Youâre convinced your brain has completely melted at this point, and all youâve become is a life sized fuck toy just for Tommy. Your mouth hangs open while pathetic moans spill out, your back arches towards him and your toes start to curl.
âYes, yes, yes-â you sob mindlessly while he abuses your velvety walls, his force and lack of care heightening your sensitivity.
âThatâs my girl, you like when daddy fucks you like this, baby?â
Of course he already knows the answer, the way your pussy is fluttering and drooling around him is proof enough- he just wants to hear how ruined youâve become.
âY-yes, yes-â you pant shakily before swallowing harshly, âl-love when you fuck me like th-is, daddy-â
You sound even better than he was imagining, making him chuckle breathily before smacking you on your ass, forcing a small yelp out of you.
âSuch a good fucking whore, pretty little cunt takes me so well, sâlike shes begginâ me to come inside,â Tommy hisses while smacking your ass again in the same spot, intensifying the already painful sting.
You mewl for two reasons, one being the smack, the other being Tommyâs comment- watering you down to nothing but a good hole, you hated how much you loved it.
âYou want daddy to come inside?â Tommy cooes sweetly after hearing your whines, not genuinely caring if you want it or not. Despite knowing this, you nod, begging for him to claim you.
With a few more deep thrusts, Tommyâs shooting his load inside, keeping his hips pressed against your ass while groaning through gritted teeth as the pleasure courses through him.
Once heâs ridden out his high, he slides himself out and watches in awe as his come spills out of your used hole. Your wrecked pussy along with your reddened ass cheeks cause his softening cock to twitch, nearly becoming hard again.
Really, you didnât even care that you didnât get to come, the rush from his touch and attention gave you all the dopamine you could ask for.
Then, with a grunt, Tommy gets up off you and stands to his feet while tucking his cock away. You stay on the ground before trying to push yourself up, your arms and legs much too shaky to get you up.
Tommy sees you struggle and clicks his tongue, leaning down to pick you up bridal style. Once youâre in his arms, he kisses your cheek and neck before nipping playfully at the skin.
âLetâs run you a bath, love.â Tommy hums warmly, and you smiled before nuzzling your head into his neck as he carried you off into the bathroom.
â
I know I said âfree use impliedâ but I would loooove to write more straight up free use, especially with Tommy :) teehee !!!!
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#hope yâall like this#:)
680 notes
¡
View notes