#but V has moved on so she no longer sees him that way. she's made peace with it. tho now it's all very :((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aurorawritestoescape · 4 months

Text

BAD BLOOD pt 3

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), perv!Joel, dark!Joel, dark!reader, dubconned!Tommy, mention of f!oral, mention of mfm, fingering, semi public, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, alcohol consumption, swearing, reader wears makeup.

Summary: Joel and Tommy take you out and things get heated.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: it took me longer than I planned but pt 3 is finally here. I really hope you’ll like it! Kisses and hugs to everyone who has given love to the series💖 I’m very grateful!! Special thank you to @milla-frenchy for the support! Ily baby❤️

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

*****

You’re sitting at your vanity putting final touches to your makeup. Butterflies are dancing in your stomach and your pussy is tingling as the anticipation of the night electrifies your nerves.

You can’t believe that it’s finally going to happen. You’ve been imagining it for so long. Every holiday, every family visit to your college, every time you saw your stepdad the desire for him ignited your core. You imagined him taking you in your bed, claiming your pussy under the secrecy of the night. You wished he would send your mom to hell, close the door in her face and take you in your dorm room. You dreamt of him fucking you on your desk and making you squirt all over the books. You’ve craved that cock and the man attached to it for so long and today you’re finally going to get it all.

***

“Can you hurry up?” Joel’s booming voice startles you and your hand jerks making your eyeliner too thick. “Tommy’s waiting at the car and getting on my nerves, fidgety fucker.”

You see your step uncle’s reflection in the mirror and exclaim not turning to him, “Fuck! Stop creeping on me! Go away!”

Despite your words you quickly check him out through the mirror. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a cardigan with the lowest V neck you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters when you see his naked chest.

The man curses and steps into your bedroom shutting the door behind him. You turn swiftly, raising your hand in a stop gesture.

“No. Get out! You’re not coming on my face again. I just did my makeup,” you turn back to the mirror and start fixing your ruined eyeliner barely moving your lips to talk, “tonight is about Tommy and me anyway.”

“In love with your stepdad. Fuckin’ hell!” Joel chuckles, walking to your bed. He sits down and places the elbows on his thighs. His voice gets serious, “I want you to remember what you promised me, angel. No back outs.”

“I’m not in love, Joel. Just wanna fuck him. I’m gonna do everything the way we planned, ok? I can’t believe he’s still talking to you. After what you’ve done.”

Joel rubs his beard hiding a smile. “Told him you wanted to find out if he’d fuck you and I obliged. Then I just made big eyes ‘What?! She recorded it? No way! What a bitch!’ He ate it up,” he adds, looking pleased with himself.

You finally turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Oh, so he thinks you’re innocent?!”

“Tommy knows that I’m far from innocent. But you…”, he points his index finger at you, “your stunt shocked him. His sweet stepdaughter, blackmailing him into fucking her.. Shit!” He adjusts himself and you lick your lips shooting a glance at his bulge.

You turn back to the mirror and silence fills the bedroom while you’re applying your lipstick. You feel Joel's heavy gaze on you until his gruff voice breaks it, “This color will look great smeared on my balls, baby.”

You scoff at his words but don’t say anything. You can’t deny that the desire to suck him off has been growing exponentially since the moment he slapped you in the backyard. Especially when you saw his fat cock that morning. Now you really want that bonus he promised stuffed into your pussy.

When the makeup is done you get up and walk to the bed. Your short black dress with sheer sleeves is laid out next to Joel who’s manspreading his thick thighs. His knee touches your bare leg and you step away furrowing your brows and whine, “Can you leave? I need to change.” Your voice lacks confidence as in reality you want him to stay and watch but it’s hard to admit that this man who looks more like a pimp than a contractor makes your pussy tingle.

“What’s the matter, angel? We’re family, no need to be shy around me.”

You roll your eyes and shift on your feet contemplating your next move. After a few moments your hands rise up to untie your robe. You open it not turning away from Joel and throw it off your shoulders fully exposing yourself. The robe pools at your feet as you’re looking at him with defiance.

Joel’s expression is serious and pensive. He takes you in like you’re an object on display in a shop window. You hold your breath fearing that any degrading comment thrown your way now might really hurt you. But a wave of relief washes over you when you see him breathe in sharply, lean back on his hand, spreading his legs wider and palming his bulge.

“What if I give you my bonus right now, angel. I feel generous.”

Triumph seizes you when you see the signs of his desire - your power over him. You have an upper hand and now it’s your turn to smirk.

“Don’t think so, step uncle. Need to ask my daddy first.”

You turn around and walk to the dresser hearing the man chuckle. You feel his gaze on your ass and push it out a little to give him a better view.

You open the top drawer and look through your panties and bras wanting to choose a perfect set for tonight.

You hear your bed creak and then the heat of Joel’s body warms up your bare back and ass.

“Want me to help you choose, angel? I know what my brother likes.”

“I was thinking this one,” you muse picking up a red lacy set and showing it to him.

“Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Suits you well. Slutty,” he comments and then leans lower, his lips are brushing your ear as he whispers, “but don’t forget your role, angel. You’re his innocent stepdaughter. He thinks he hates that he wants to fuck you but he fuckin’ loves it. He’s as twisted as me, just hides it.”

He raises his arms at your sides caging you between his massive biceps and searches through the drawer. He’s looking over your shoulder and when his hot wet exhale hits your naked breasts, your nipples get hard. He picks up a light pink mesh set, decorated with cute little white hearts.

“Wear this one and he’ll bust his nut as soon as he sees you”.

“I kinda need him to last,” you murmur but decide to follow his advice.

The thoughts are jumbled in your head as Joel’s low voice and hot breath on your naked skin are making you weak. You press your thighs together chasing any relief from the ache in your core. You feel cold air on your wet pussy. His bulge grazes the hollow of your ass and you bite your lip trying to swallow a whimper that is crawling up your throat.

“Yeah, it’s a good one,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. You want to take the lingerie from him but he doesn’t let you and pulls his hand away.

“I’ll help, angel.” You hear shuffling and turn around slightly to see him get on one knee behind you. He looks up at you, still dominant even in this position and your breath hitches.

Suddenly his hands grip your thighs and he turns you around. His face is so close to your pussy now your clit tingles and you gush more.

He drops his head and brings the panties to your feet. Your mouth parts with a surprise.

“Come on,” he hurries you and you step into the underwear, one foot and then the other. He hums with satisfaction and pulls them up, his hands brushing your legs and tickling your skin making it erupt in goosebumps. He notices your body’s reaction to his touch and stops his hands mid thigh looking straight at your pussy.

“Joel,” you whine as a sudden surge of shyness grasps you.

He seems not to hear. He leans closer to your mound and you gasp when his nose pushes into the spot just above your seam.

Then he plants a soft kiss on your mound and you take a deep breath as the desire overwhelms you. You want his mouth on you with fierce desperation, your mind is empty and only one thought is swirling through it, “do it do it, do it.”

You shut your eyes ready to drown in pleasure and hear his soft and seductive voice as his breath warms your skin, “Who’s gonna eat your pussy tonight, angel, me or your stepdaddy?”

You can’t help but imagine them both between your thighs and you moan dropping down your head and running your fingers through his hair.

To your disappointment Joel pulls the panties up and doesn’t stop until your pussy lips swallow the sheer fabric. It presses on your clit and you take a sharp breath as a surge of need ignites your core.

You lift one leg, brace your hand on the dresser behind you and put your thigh over his broad shoulder giving him a perfect view of your pussy. Then your hand darts to pull the material to the side and you bite your lower lip as his hot breath hits your wet skin. Joel growls and raises his eyes at you. His gaze is so dark the irises are hardly visible. You’re sure your pupils are as blown as his.

“Want uncle to lick your pretty pussy?” he asks softly but you hear a trace of mockery in his voice. Your need suffocates your pride and you answer him by gliding your foot up and down his muscular back.

He hums and leans closer to your center. You hold your breath in anticipation and run your fingers through his hair ready to tug on them when he finally eats you out. But you furrow your brows and blink in confusion when he presses his cheek to your folds and stills. “What are you..?”

Suddenly he moves his head up and down against your sensitive pussy rubbing it with his rough scruff. You cry out and jump back away from him.

“What the fuck, Joel?! It hurts!” you’re fuming looking at your burning folds while he chuckles getting up from the floor with a grunt.

“Just wanted to save your scent, baby,” he laughs rubbing his beard and you shout at him to get out putting on a bra.

“You have 5 minutes,” he says, still chuckling as he leaves the room.

***

When you finally step outside the house you see the brothers smoking by Joel’s truck. Jess took your stepdad’s car to go on a spa retreat and her plans to waste Tommy’s money pampering herself coincided perfectly with your plans to fuck her husband.

You bite your lip when you see Tommy wearing a black western shirt and dark jeans. Your heart sings at the thought that he wanted to look good to take you out.

Tommy quickly looks you over, trying to hide his interest but you notice his gaze slide over your body tightly enveloped by the slinky dress.

Joel on the other hand doesn’t hide anything. “Looking good, baby,” he comments shamelessly adjusting his bulge.

“Let’s go,” you say, coming up to the truck and batting your lashes at Tommy, “Daddy, will you keep me company in the back?”

“Sweetheart...” Tommy starts talking with an unsure expression but you pout your lips, mouthing, “please”.

He sighs and gets in the back seat. A little part of you wonders if he’s pushed by your threat or genuine desire to be close to you. But you shut this little voice down reminding yourself that the result is what’s important.

When you get into the car your dress rides up exposing even more of your thighs but you don’t bother tugging it down.

Joel starts the engine and backs out of the driveway while you’re looking around at the interior of his truck. It’s surprisingly tidy and you’re genuinely impressed until your gaze raises up and to your shock you see your panties hanging on the rear view mirror. Your jaw drops and you’re about to shout at Joel when you stop yourself. You realize that the perv must have picked them up from the floor of your room that morning and you’re not eager to let your stepdad know about your fun time with your step uncle.

So you shut your mouth and see Joel winking at you in the mirror.

Tommy on the other hand reacts as soon as he sees it, “God, Joel, take this thing off!”

“Why?” His older brother asks with defiance driving through the town streets with one hand on the wheel.

Tommy just sighs, not even trying to come up with a reason.

You’re squirming in your seat praying that Joel doesn’t mention whose panties are now swinging in front of the windshield. You almost moan with relief when he turns on some classic rock and doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes keep shooting at Tommy from time to time who’s looking out of the window. You hate that he’s so far so you unbuckle your seat belt and slide over closer to him. You trace a wedding band on his finger getting his attention. He snaps his head your way, brows furrowed.

“Get back in your seat. ‘s dangerous.”

You take his hand and bring it up to your lips as he’s watching you closely. You press your cheek to his knuckles and rub your face against his hand.

“Love when you worry about me, daddy,” you purr into his hand and then place it on your thigh that’s further from him.

You put your hand over his and make him squeeze your naked flesh.

“Keep me safe, please,” you breathe out feeling his palm against your skin, so close to your pussy and at the same time torturously far.

“I ain’t a seat belt, sweetie,” Tommy mumbles looking down at your skin erupting in goosebumps under his touch. He takes a sharp breath and lifts his hips before spreading his legs a little wider. You notice his bulge has grown bigger and you close your eyes for a second trying to calm down but sink even deeper in the sticky pit of desire. You think about moving his hand to your inner thigh and then closer towards your pussy. His fingers would immediately find your panties soaked and if he slid his thumb under the fabric he could easily find your throbbing clit and …

“Hey, lovebirds!” Joel rumbles and you snap your eyes open as he interrupts your daydreaming.

Tommy clears his throat feeling his brother's eyes on him in the car mirror and his hand flies away from your thigh. You curse Joel inwardly for ruining the moment.

Joel’s head turns to you slightly as he asks, “how about we skip the restaurant and get a motel, huh?”

You know that you’re the one he’s asking because Tommy has no say in any of this thanks to the recording you have on your phone.

“I’m not some cheap hooker you picked up at a gas station, Joel. I can’t just jump into bed with you,” you reply, putting your seatbelt back on.

Joel laughs and your stomach burns with rage. You’re fed up with his mocking, his attitude, his cockiness.

“What’s so fucking funny, old man?” You spit out at him grinding your teeth.

“Fuck, baby,” he says locking eyes with you in the mirror, “I don’t remember buying you dinner before I jizzed all over your pretty face a few days ago?”

“You WHAT?!” Tommy exclaims and your heart falls into your stomach. As long as you’ve known him you never heard him raise his voice like that, maybe only watching sports but never at a person. Especially Joel. He scoots forward in his seat to get closer to Joel and grabs his arm. “Have you fucked her already?” Joel seems absolutely unfazed as he replies in his usual “fuck y’all” tone, “No, I haven, Tommy, relax. We just fooled around. The princess wanted to come and I helped her.”

Tommy’s head snaps in your direction and you squeeze your body into the seat as fear grips your heart. He looks livid, eyes are scorching you under the furrowed brows, lips form a tight line in anger or disappointment. You feel small under his stare and stammer weakly, “d..daddy, he didn’t… ”

He suddenly gets closer to you, leans in, grabs your hand and squeezes it in his. It’s not painful but his strength and wrath make your breath hitch and your pussy clenches around nothing as the fear affects you like an aphrodisiac.

“If he fucks your needy hole before I do, believe my words, sweetie, I won’t touch you. You can put that recording of me on national television I don’t give a fuck. Got it?” He throws the words at you as his eyes are boring into yours.

You whimper as his face is so close you feel his breath on your parted lips. Realizing that he’s waiting for your answer you nod hastily and he gets back in his seat.

You feel your world tilting and turning upside down. Your stepdad, the calmest, softest man you know just shouted at his brother and said all that to you.

Tommy’s still fuming, clenching and unclenching his fist resting on his thigh and you wonder why it stirred him up that much. Why has his possessiveness burst out now? It was the first time you witnessed his passion for you. Is it sibling rivalry? Insecurity? Or did he finally let himself do what he’d wanted? You ask yourself these questions before you see Joel watch you through the mirror. He looks smug and you try to make your expression neutral not to give him the satisfaction.

You glance out of the window and your anxiety spikes up again seeing that you’re almost at the place you’ve picked.

“Oh, fuck no!” Tommy exclaims seeing where you three are going. “Are you fucking kidding me? You know that it’s Jess’ favorite place. How am I gonna look with you grinding against me all night?” He’s shooting daggers at you and you take a deep breath trying to find the right words.

“Tommy, listen. This restaurant is the only ok place in this shithole of a town. And I promise I’ll behave,”

Mistrust is painted on his face but seeing you shaken and nervous calms him down a bit.

“No ‘daddies’!” he demands pointing his finger at you.

“No “daddies,” you promise with sadness in your voice.

He points his finger at Joel next, “You too! None of your usual shit!”

Joel raises his hands and brows acting like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. You scuff but turn your pleading gaze at Tommy.

“And we leave when I say we leave!”

You hate losing your upper hand in the situation but your pussy is throbbing for him now, so dominant and rough, and you decide to submit this time.

You all get out of the car and Tommy stomps to the restaurant still angry. Having stayed alone with Joel you use the opportunity and grab his arm to stop him.

“Why have you said it? About the morning? I thought we were on the same page.”

“We are, angel.” Joel replies, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in the direction of the entrance, “I know my brother. He always wants something I don’t have. He must be ecstatic seeing how hungry you’re for him. I just fiddled with his toy a bit and now he wants it even more.”

His hand grabs your ass and you slap it off getting away from him as you see Tommy watch you two waiting at the door.

You can’t believe that Joel is manipulating his brother so easily. But his words have reassured you and you feel less agitated.

When the brothers and you step into the restaurant, a host greets Tommy by the name and you see the confusion hiding behind his features at Mr Miller’s unusual company.

He asks about Jess and you cringe rolling your eyes so far up your head, the host gets even more flustered.

He leads you to your table and you settle down.

A waiter brings you the menus and you order a glass of red wine, adding “Please, you two, no hard liquor, we have a long night ahead of us,” Tommy chokes on his water as the waiter slightly raises his eyebrow.

Joel gets a beer and Tommy follows suit. When the waiter leaves your stepdad glares at you.

“You promised to behave.”

“I am behaving. I just don’t want you to forget why we’re here.”

Joel chimes in, leaning back against his chair with a grunt, “And why exactly are we here, baby?”

“I want us to get to know each other better.”

“We’re family, angel, I know everything there is about you.”

“Really? What’s my favorite color, Joel,” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“The color of my brother’s dick?” Joel asks and you burst into giggles while Tommy mumbles profanities under his breath.

When the drinks arrive Joel starts asking Tommy about his work and you’re surprised to notice how the older brother eases him up. They talk and you listen, not really getting through the meaning of a bunch of contractor terms but you smile when they do and laugh when they say something funny.

Soon you’re drinking and talking and it actually feels comfortable. They reminisce about their life in Austin and you ask them questions genuinely interested in their past.

At one point Joel acts like a perfect wing man telling you a hot story of Tommy getting arrested for starting a bar fight because of a girl and you tingle all over. Your stepdad gives you a shy smile and your breath hitches.

Suddenly you feel Joel’s piercing gaze on you.

“What about you, angel? Got any fun college stories for us?” Tommy looks uncomfortable and you remember your promise to him to behave so you say softly,

“I’m a good girl, uncle Joel. I’m there to study, not to waste my time on boys.” You drop your gaze acting so innocent even you don’t believe yourself.

Joel chuckles and Tommy glances up at you with a little smile.

“Ok, our good girl. What about girls? Bet you’ve licked some pussies after a wild party.”

“Fuck, Joel,” Tommy curses and you bite your lip trying not to smile at the way your stepdad squirms in his chair. The wine makes you bolder and you decide to spice up the night.

“How about we play a game? I answer your question and then you two answer mine?” you offer fidgeting in your chair giddy with excitement.

“Shoot, baby.”

“No!”

The men reply at the same time. Tommy’s shaking his head and Joel slightly punches his brother’s shoulder.

“Come on, Tommy. Let’s hear how naughty our good girl gets. I remember you were fine with her… how did you put it… exploring herself.”

Your eyes are glinting with excitement as Joel quotes that dialogue. You remember it by heart now having listened and come to it so many times you lost count.

“Go ahead, angel,” Joel nods, motioning you to speak.

You take a deep breath and start talking softly.

“I’ve been with a girl just once. We weren’t wasted or anything,” You shoot a glance at Joel and then continue, “We were in her room watching a movie and then it kinda happened.” You suddenly feel shy as not only Joel’s but also Tommy’s gaze is glued to you.

“Nah, baby. We need details.” Joel’s voice, seducing and gruff, pulls the words out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“We started making out.. then I tugged her shirt down and sucked on her nipples,” you muse tracing the edge of the wet glass with your finger. “I kissed her stomach, then her pussy… She was so wet. So soft on my tongue. I sucked on her clit and fingered her for some time and she came…her pussy was clamping on my fingers so hard.”

When you lift your eyes you see the brothers stare at you with hungry obsidian eyes as if they’re ready to pounce on you at any moment. Joel palms himself through the jeans and Tommy doesn’t tear his eyes off you as they slide from your lips to your breasts and back up again.

For a few moments you three are soaking in this horny silence until you break it clapping your hands together.

“My turn!”

Tommy takes a big gulp of his beer and Joel raises his brows waiting for your question.

“Have you ever fucked a girl together? Like… shared her?” you quickly regret your question as only saying it already is making you uncomfortably wet.

You’re looking at Joel expecting him to answer but suddenly hear your stepdad’s voice,

“Yeah, we have. Once.”

Your head snaps his way and you gawk at him. You don’t say anything and just wait for him to continue. And he does.

“She was Joel’s girlfriend at the time. We went to a bar, got really drunk and fucked in the bathroom.”

Tommy glances up at you and then quickly averts his eyes.

“Fuck…,” you moan rubbing your thighs together imagining them using some lucky girl like that and ask,

“How did you do it?”

Joel leans closer to you placing his massive arms on the table and replies savoring every word while his velvety voice hits you right in the pussy, “I made her bend over to suck Tommy off and then shoved my dick deep into her cunt. He fucked her throat, I fucked her hole and we pumped her full.”

The moment Joel finishes talking you hear the waiter’s shaky voice asking if you’d like anything else.

Tommy curses and sends him away. He acts polite but his voice strains with rage.

He hastily gets up and mumbling the word ‘bathroom’ leaves you two. Before he turns away you spot his massive bulge and swallow loudly.

You take a deep breath trying to calm down.

“Angel, you look pale,” Joel laughs at you and then shakes his head, “you want him, he wants you, what are all these fuckin’ games for? You coulda been stuffed with our cocks by now but no, little princes wanted to be wined and dined. Lets hope he doesn’t change his mind about tonight. If our plan goes to shit because of you, uncle Joel will get very angry. And you surely don’t want that, missy.” Joel’s expression is serious and you remember that he has his personal motive and his concern quickly becomes yours.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say, getting up from the table.

You come up to the bathroom and knock. It’s quiet so you knock again until you hear the lock click.

Tommy opens the door and steps out of the room but you gently push him back in.

“Please, let’s talk,”

You hear people’s voices and not wanting to be caught with you alone at the bathroom Tommy begrudgingly steps back and shuts the door behind you two.

“What?!” He grumps and steps up to the sinks. He opens the tap and bends down to wash his face.

You lean back against the door watching him and contemplating your next move. He’s about to snap and you’re afraid what unexpected fit he could throw again. You know he wants you and you need to be wise rather than play on his nerves. “You’re his innocent stepdaughter,” Joel’s words emerge from your mind.

You come up to him slowly and wait while he’s drying his face with a hand towel.

“I’m not a monster, Tommy. I don’t wanna ruin your life,” you speak softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, anger still painted on his face.

You inch closer, press your forehead to his shoulder and whisper breathing in his scent,

“I want you, Tommy. So fucking much.”

You feel vulnerable at the moment but that’s exactly what he wants you to be right now.

“So that’s why you spread your legs for my brother? ‘Cause you wanted me?”

You sniff not saying anything for a few moments, then lift your head, and glance up at him. His face is blurry as you’re looking at him through the tears.

“I was just horny, daddy. And when he was fingering me, I was imagining you fucking my pussy.”

Tommy’s breath hitches and you hold yours as well hoping he’ll react.

“Fuck, babygirl,” your stepdad whispers as his rage shifts into sympathy, his eyes sad and blown out.

The next moment he grabs you under your thighs, lifts you and sets you on the counter. He’s standing between your legs as you place your hands on his shoulders. His thumb wipes a tear from your cheek as the other hand is pressed to your lower back. You open your legs wider and the dress pulls up at your hips exposing your light pink panties.

“Shhh, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here,” he whispers, kissing your cheek gently and his head drops as he’s looking at your pussy, “I want you too.”

His smell, his touch, his confession make you ecstatic and you press your parted lips to his. They’re soft and plump as his tongue breaches your lips and he licks into your whimpering mouth. You grab his ass and pull him closer to your heated center. You feel him hard against your pussy and start grinding on his stiff bulge.

“What do you need, babygirl? Tell me,” Tommy says, parting from your lips.

“Touch me, please… can’t wait any longer,” you whine, pulling your dress up to the waist. His hands rush to free your pussy and you lift your hips before Tommy takes your panties off.

The cold marble under your ass makes you hiss but you forget about it as soon as Tommy’s fingers push between your folds and he rubs your clit making you moan.

“You like it, babygirl? Daddy’s finally touching your needy pussy.”

You can’t form any words so you just moan and nod your head frantically. His forehead is pressed against yours as you’re both watching his digits glide down to your hole and without hesitation he pushes his middle finger inside you. You’re so wet it slides in easily and he starts massaging your walls.

“More please,” you plead and he groans as his index finger joins the first.

“Good girl! You're sucking me in so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside you,” Tommy murmurs in your ear and you whimper before you see the door opening. Your heart freezes in your chest as you’re about to get caught being fingered by your stepdad. But you breathe out with relief seeing Joel stepping into the bathroom.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbles coming up to you two. He stands next to Tommy, his bulge pressed to your thigh. Through the haze of pleasure you feel Joel’s hand cup your tears stricken cheek and he leans to your ear and whispers, “Clever girl.”

Then his big palm squeezes your naked thigh as he asks you,

“Enjoying daddy’s fingers, angel? Who’s better at fingering your tight little hole, him or your uncle?”

Tommy groans and suddenly his lips are on yours. His kiss is hungry, desperate, claiming. You melt into it feeling your climax build as his fingers are pushing on the soft spot inside you.

You moan into his mouth and Tommy’s lips leave yours as he mumbles, “I’ll feed your pussy my cock.. soon, babygirl… just wait.”

“You’ll be full by the end of the night, angel,” Joel smirks and pulls down the neckline of your dress exposing your naked breasts to the men. He starts twitching your nipple as his brother is working your pussy.

Joel watches your face twist with pleasure, your teeth biting your lips mercilessly.

“Don’t ruin your pretty lips, angel,” he says, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He brushes your swollen lower lip and pulls it out from between your teeth, “Here.” He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you welcome it. You start sucking on his thick digit making the filthiest noises.

With your stepdad’s fingers fucking your hole and step uncle's thumb stuffing your mouth you feel yourself about to unravel. Tommy pushes you over the edge pressing his thumb to your clit and swirling it a few times.

“Come, babygirl. Make daddy proud,” Tommy says and your explode clumping hard on his fingers and moaning, your pretty noises muffled by Joel’s thumb still pressed to your tongue. The man praises you, “That’s our girl. Perfect little slut.”

The orgasm is hitting you hard and you’re shaking and trembling so Tommy wraps his arm around your waist holding you tight but still pleasuring you.

They both are watching Tommy’s digits rhythmically disappear inside your dripping hole and your pussy squelches as your creamy cum, pushed out by the intrusion, slides down your ass towards the counter. Finally your climax subsides and your body stills, jerking with aftershocks from time to time.

Joel's thumb leaves your mouth and he holds the back of your neck while you’re trying to catch your breath.

Tommy pulls out his fingers too and lifts them up for the three of you to see. Under the bright lights you see his digits glazed with your juices. A drop of your slick slides down his middle finger and Tommy licks it off and then brings his digits to your mouth. You happily suck them clean while they both are praising you, “that’s our girl”, “like that, angel”, “came so hard for daddy and uncle.”

When you’re done cleaning your stepdad’s fingers off your cum, he cups your cheek and asks softly, “ready to go home, babygirl?” You look at Tommy, whose adoring and hungry gaze makes you tingle again, then at Joel, who’s eating you up with his blown out eyes, his hand palming his huge bulge, and the anticipation of the night ahead makes your heart and pussy flutter.

Batting your eyelashes at the men you give them a shy smile and say “yes.”

******

Thank you for reading!💖

Your comments and reblogs will make me very happy! I’d love to know what you think!❤️

Part IV

General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

Series tag list: @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page

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jackandspaghetti · 6 months

Text

not a vacation. (jack hughes x female reader, smut)

summary: they just wanted to get freaky w no distractions, life is hard. and jack has been too, so these two goofies needed some satisfaction! they figured a hotel was the way to do it. dont ask me, im just the messenger. this was written via divine inspiration.

warnings: sex (p in v) unprotected (assume bc), praise, idk man this is my first time im a virgin to writing smut

other notes: random context, i think Y/N is in college for this and also she is living w jack. its a fic bae don't read into all that too much

wc: 3k

Y/N and Jack are finally on vacation. Well, it’s only for a couple nights, and they do not have plans to do anything. They really just wanted to get away. With all of Jack’s hockey stuff finally done for the season, and with Y/N’s academic year having come to a close, they just needed a break.

Originally, they were just going to spend time together at their own house. They do it all the time, and they certainly enjoy it, but that did not feel like enough of a reset. Their families could still show up at their door at any moment, or even solicitors were enough to ruin their peace in each other’s company. So, they decided they would go to a random town not too far away and stay a few nights in a hotel. Somewhere that their families would not find them. Somewhere quiet. With few tourists. A place where there would be little noise to distract them, and few people to be distracted by the noise they would inevitably make together.

Anyway, this was not really a vacation. It was a desperate retreat to a place where Y/N and Jack could just immerse themselves in each other with no consequences or disruptions. Neither one even plans to leave the hotel for any reason except to quickly grab food or to stop at a convenience store.

The two check into their single-bed hotel room, a pretty nice one thanks to Jack’s being famous and everything. Neither one has brought many clothes. They don’t anticipate wearing them very often. The couple wastes no time in racing to their room for some privacy.

The minute they walk into their home for the next few days, Y/N throws her bags down and puts the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle. Then she locks the door and spins on her heels to face Jack. They both seem to let out a breath of relief. They have both been terribly horny for days. Not that they haven’t had sex in those days, but their desire just keeps returning. They can’t seem to get a break from it for any longer than Jack’s refractory period. So here they stand, in utter silence, staring at each other with hungry eyes in their new little hideaway. Each one waiting to see if the other will make a move.

Suddenly, Jack lunges at Y/N and wraps her up in a passionate, sensual kiss. He is breathing heavily into her mouth and already sounding like a hungry man who will do anything for a bite.

“Ohhhh Y/N,” he’s kissing her deeply. At some point, he picks her up, because now he’s carrying her and pushing her onto the neatly made hotel bed.

She immediately responds, moaning into his mouth and wrapping her legs around him when he lifts her. She feels the way her panties are soaked through and at that moment, she is desperate to be wearing nothing. To feel all of his skin against all of hers. She whimpers, “Oh god babe I’m so wet.”

Jack is on top of her now. He grunts when he hears that, and he pushes his own hips down onto hers. They are both still fully clothed, but his erection is no secret when it’s pressing against Y/N. And he can easily feel the intense heat radiating off of her through her sweatpants. These respective sensations are enough to make the two of them moan together, on fire with want as they notice each other’s arousal.

Jack whispers, “Mmmm feel that baby?”

Her voice is whiny and a little pathetic with frantic desire. “Not sure if you’re talking about you or me, but I feel us both. Jesus Christ you’re hard. Ohhhh fuck.”

He chuckles a bit at her little display of desperation, and he slides his warm hands into her sweater, onto the even warmer skin of her stomach. His voice is gentle, soothing, but intimidatingly so. It’s clear that behind it, he is trying to control an unusual amount of arousal, a primal need to have Y/N naked and flushed and sweating beneath him. These images are flashing through his mind when he says, “All for you. God, look at you.”

His hands slide further, hiking up her sweater and revealing a bit of her abdomen. Y/N sighs as those familiar fingers graze her skin. She hears the quietest groan in Jack’s chest, and the sound of his pleasure in this moment, from just touching her, multiplies her own pleasure tenfold. His hands are on her bra. Her nipples are so hard that they are obvious through the padding, and both Jack and Y/N make a strained noise when he feels them.

Y/N starts to grasp his sweatshirt, arching her back a bit with desperation, and Jack knows neither of them can live like this a second longer. His own dick is currently being suffocated as it strains for this girl.

“Clothes are so uncomfortable, aren’t they baby?” he pulls her sweater off in a sudden hurry, followed by his own sweatshirt. The clothes end up somewhere, who knows, the only important thing is that they aren’t here.

She whimpers, “Yeah…oh my god…” as she feels utterly overwhelmed by his determination.

Jack’s eyes hungrily scan Y/N’s partially exposed body as he makes quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping like he has been in this situation, urgently taking his pants off, many times before. He has. Then they are off and gone and no longer in the universe and he is only in his boxers, yanking Y/N’s pants off with a frustrated grunt.

She has not really been doing anything to help; she has just been watching him in awe, blushing at his urgency. She decides this is her chance. Y/N places her palm firmly against Jack’s hard, fabric-covered cock, rubbing a bit and relishing in the way it reacts to her. The way it seems to have a mind of its own, twitching and straining under her touch. Jack groans, very audibly this time, as he feels this and stares down at Y/N in her bra and panties, so beautiful and laying right beneath him. His voice is low, “I need you baby. I…” his voice drifts off, unable to think straight as he sees her looking so helpless for him.

Y/N finally speaks up, though the tension is so palpable that she can only manage a whisper for fear of shattering the moment. “Jack…” his eyes meet hers and she whimpers, “please, Jack.”

Normally, he would do a whole “please what?” thing and make her spell it out for him that she desperately wants him to fuck her. But this time, he is so hard that he just makes a noise in his throat and pulls his boxers off, setting his throbbing dick free. He runs his hands over Y/N’s bra before slipping them under her back and unhooking it, letting the cursed thing fall off her shoulders and throwing it into the abyss that is the world outside of this one embrace.

Y/N is immediately relieved and also sent into a fit of deeper arousal when she sees his cock, throbbing with need and dripping pre-cum, hard and ready to go, all for her. She doesn’t wait for him to take her panties off, she just lifts her hips and does it herself so that they are now both naked, stripped bare before each other and each one loving the other.

But forget that—this is about the sex.

Jack grabs her thighs and roughly pushes them wide apart, staring between them. He smirks, “Mmmmm poor thing. A pussy this wet can only mean you’re aching for me.”

A soft gasp escapes Y/N’s lips. “Yeah…” her breath is shaky, “it’s your fault.”

“All this? Plus all that was in your panties?” his voice drops to a whisper as he leans close to her ear, “I’m the only guy who can make you this wet, hm?”

“Yes.”

He seems proud of himself. Of course, he already knew all that, but that doesn’t mean hearing it is any less hot. His lips are just barely brushing against her ear, and she can feel his breath when he adds, “I’m the only one who can see this pretty thing? Touch you like this?”

This time, it just comes out of her. “Yes daddy.” She wasn’t even trying to do that. Something just comes over her sometimes when he acts like this, and her eyes widen when she realizes. Her face turns red.

But Jack isn’t bothered. He smirks. Almost chuckles a bit. He kisses right below her ear, sliding his hand down her waist and softly rubbing it against her stomach. Then, in that low, intimate voice, “Mmmm what was that?”

Y/N is losing her mind. She doesn’t know how he does all this when she knows he is equally desperate, but apparently her calling him daddy makes him want to mess with her. She’s not having it. She’s not too proud to say it again and make it a little more flowery this time. She sounds really helpless and a little louder when she responds, “I’m all yours, daddy. Take everything, I don’t care, just fuck me please.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. He lines himself up with her, purposefully letting his tip rub against her clit for a moment first. That makes her gasp. Then, “Sure, baby,” and he is pushing his dick into her, groaning a bit as the pressure and warmth of her pussy soothes his aching erection. “Shit, this is good.”

Y/N moans, her walls adjusting around him as she adapts to the sensation, and the feeling of being filled like that gives her face a glowy, though dazed, look. Her voice matches the look in a way, “Fuck…you feel so good daddy.”

“Mmm yeah?” he starts to slide in and out of her in a rhythm, slowly at first, “You like me on top of you, princess?”

He keeps going slowly, but starts to run his hand up her body, leaning in close as she whines, “Yes, daddy…ohhhh…” she doesn’t really know what to say. Her brain isn’t formulating responses when hes so close to her, touching her like that, fucking her like that, breathing on her skin.

“Good girl,” he slowly starts to kiss along her jaw, speeding up his thrusts just a bit. He seems to want this to last, but when he has been wanting her this bad, he has a limit to how much he can hold back. His lips eventually reach her ear, and he whispers, “This is where you belong. Right here under me baby. Your legs spread; your pussy wrapped around my cock like this.”

She gasps, then her exhale is just a moan. She starts to run her hands along his sides and his back, desperate to feel more of him as her breath becomes labored.

“Soooo wet…” his voice feels like poison, like it’s incapacitating her, but in such an addictive way; it’s like a drug. He grunts softly before speaking again, “and so, so tight…you feel like heaven, princess.” His hand reaches her breast and gently kneads the flesh as he starts thrusting his dick into her harder, though not any faster, feeling and relishing in the way her walls tighten and react to every adjustment.

Her eyes are fluttering as he praises the way she feels for him. Her nipples are hard, begging for stimulation when she feels his hand on her breast. It’s like he reads her mind, because in an instant he is teasing her nipple with his thumb, starting to plant hot, wet kisses on her neck. “Ohhhh…oh Jack,” she moans as he overloads her with pleasure all over, the sensations piling up and boiling over and causing her pussy to react, squeezing his dick for a moment as she arches her back just the slightest bit.

“Mmhmmm what about me baby? How does daddy’s cock feel?” His voice sounds rough, and he has to start fucking her faster. He needs more as he kisses and bites every sensitive spot on her neck that he knows so well, rubbing her precious breast with that one hand while his other arm is wrapped around her waist, supporting a bit of his weight against the bed. Her skin is hot and it’s all for him, “Tell me sweetheart.”

“Daddy…oh god it feels perfect…ohhh fuck it’s…mmm right there, daddy,” she whimpers as his dick rubs repeatedly against her g-spot, “so hard…fuck, you’re so hard and you stretch me out so good…” Her legs wrap around him, and she sighs under the weight of his warm body.

His mouth finds its way back to her lips, and now he’s moaning as well, making pleasured noises into her mouth as he fucks her hard and fast, feeling her tightness threatening to make him bust any minute now. He is panting as he speaks into the kiss, “Fuck, baby. Keep up that whimpering and shit.” He softly bites her bottom lip for a moment before he can’t do it anymore. He can’t focus on kissing her when her body feels like that. He adjusts his weight onto the other side and now the hand that was supporting him is all over her; it’s on her waist, on her breast, on her neck for a moment. Then it rests on her hip as he thrusts into her over and over and over again, watching the way her tits bounce from the force of his movements.

She does indeed keep up the whimpering. She is a moaning mess by now, her eyes closed more often than not, like her body doesn’t want to sense anything but this feeling. The warmth in her lower abdomen blooms like a flower, then spreads through her body like a flame. She is gasping with every breath, moaning with almost every exhalation. Y/N feels Jack’s cock staring to twitch inside her. She feels her own telltale spasms that come before orgasm too, crying out with pleasure, “Daddy!!! Ohhhhhh!!”

A small grunt escapes Jack’s chest with every thrust and his hand is gripping her hip so hard, squeezing the flesh like his life might depend on it. Their heavy breaths mix as he puts his face against hers. Sounds of panting and moaning fill the room, along with the sounds of the sheets rustling just slightly under their movements, and of course the sound of wet slapping as his pelvis repeatedly pounds into hers.

Jack speaks in a rough, strained voice, “I’m so fucking close baby. Oh, fuck you make daddy feel so damn good.”

Y/N replies frantically, almost pathetically, “Me too oh god me too. I’m gonna cum daddy oh you feel so good.”

He groans and speaks again, urgency in his voice now, though not replacing the sound of authority that has been there this whole time, “Fuck! Okay princess I need you to let go. Cum for daddy c’mon baby.”

If she wasn’t already going to cum just from the sensations of all this, those words definitely do the trick. She is suddenly arching her back and curling her toes, sweating and crying out in pleasure. Her orgasm hits her like a truck, causing her to convulse around Jack and writhe with the overwhelming feeling of it all. As for her face, her eyes roll back before they flutter shut, her mouth is open, her head tilted back slightly on the pillow, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. Y/N looks like the picture of female pleasure.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack, who sees the way she cums for him, sees the way her face looks all because of him, and feels the way her pussy squeezes the life out of his dick. He pumps into her for only a second more before he grunts loudly, driving his cock deep inside her and groaning as he feels himself release.

Y/N sighs as she feels that familiar warmth filling her up deep inside, feeling his cock spasm as he empties his load.

Jack is nearly paralyzed for a moment until he is all done, when he collapses on top of her, his face buried right where Y/N’s neck meets her shoulder. He lets his dick slip out of her as he starts to soften. He places a gentle kiss right where his lips are resting against her skin, and then a slow, quiet groan is heard from deep within his chest.

Y/N smiles and tries to control her breathing. She weakly lifts a hand to stroke his hair and the back of his neck, feeling a small amount of Jack’s nut mixed with her own wetness slowly dripping out of her. She sighs and can’t hold back a little giggle, “So that was good then?”

He just wraps his arms around her tighter and nuzzles his face deeper into her neck as he groans again. Y/N laughs. She uses her free hand to soothingly caress his back, feeling his toned muscles under that lovely skin, “Mmmm I see. You’re speechless.”

Jack chuckles into her neck and gives her another soft kiss there before lifting his head to look down at her. He strokes the hair around her face a bit, “Pretty…”

She smiles, “Good sex too?”

He laughs and hugs her tightly again, returning to his newly declared home nuzzled in her neck. There is a slight pause before Y/N hears and feels a soft voice against her skin, “The best sex.”

She nods with approval and pride in herself, then responds with a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you. I’m gonna fall asleep here.”

Y/N chuckles and continues to caress him. She was calling him daddy earlier, but normally that melts away and they are just their barest selves after the excitement. She whispers, “Okay then.”

She hears one last little grunt from him and her heart melts as he falls asleep.

#jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #hockey fic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #hockey smut #smut

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isabella-kr · 1 year

Note

Are you still taking requests for Price fics??? Can I please get a fluff/smut with him and a reader who has insecurities about her body

I most definitely am!! Thank you so much for requesting!! The beginning turned out sadder than planned, so I’m sorry about that. Also, this isn’t my best work; I’m not sure why but my brain wasn’t braining when I was trying to write this so the quality is slightly off.

Marked Beauty

Do not repost

Synopsis: When Price catches her looking in the mirror for longer than usual, he can immediately tell something is wrong. When she voices her insecurities, he makes it his mission to show her just how beautiful she is.

Pairing: John Price x Female!Wife!Reader (I’m sorry, I’m a sucker for husband Price)

Genre: Fluff & Smut. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD

Warnings: Insecurities, dislike of one's body, Mention of stretch marks, scars, and cellulite, body worship, smut, description of male and female bodies, description of male and female genitalia, cunnilingus, fingering, penetrative sex, p in v, soft sex, creampie, use of ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ (let me know if I missed anything)

Note: There is no mention of body weight or size in this fic. The reader is not described as having a specific body type - stretch marks and cellulite is something anyone can get no matter their size.

Word Count: 4.5k

General Masterlist COD:MWII Masterlist

GIF not mine (Boobies 😍)

He could tell something was wrong the moment she stepped in front of the mirror to brush her teeth. The way her eyes raked over her own body made his chest ache; there was a certain hatred in them, and he would even go as far as say she looked disgusted.

Feeling his heart break piece by piece, he stood up from where he sat on the bed and stopped in the threshold of the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom. She didn’t even notice his presence, too focused on judging every inch of herself. He approached her the moment she spat the toothpaste in the sink, his arms immediately moving to wrap around her torso and pulling her close against him.

She let out a small sigh when he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, and placed her hands atop his, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest pressing against her back. She almost smiled, but the moment she looked into the mirror again, her face turned blank.

“What’s wrong?” he muttered against her skin, his beard tickling her neck.

She exhaled sharply, internally scolding herself for allowing him to see through her. “Nothing’s wrong,” she sent him a small smile, “Go to bed, I’ll join you in a sec, alright?”

He shook his head and pulled himself up to stare into her eyes through the mirror. He said her name softly, his gruff voice barely above a whisper as he continued, “Please talk to me.”

She looked to the side and away from his concerned gaze, “I’m fine,” she told him.

But John didn’t believe her. He turned her around in his arms and placed his hand on her cheek, angling her face so their eyes would lock, “Sweetheart, we’ve been together far too long for me to believe that.”

He watched as her eyes glazed over, and she quickly hung her head to look at the ground; she refused to let him see her this way. To see her broken and on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” he attempted to lift her head back up, but she refused.

It was when she let out a choked sob, and when he felt her hot tears wet his fingertips that he brought her closer towards him. His palm cradled the back of her head as he pressed her cheek against his shoulder, his other hand reaching to rub comforting circles on her back. Her own hands grabbed onto his shirt and cramped it between her fingers as quiet whimpers left her lips.

“Shh-shh-shh,” he tried to comfort her, placing a loving kiss against her head as he swayed them from side to side. She clung onto him like her life depended on it, quiet apologies leaving her lips when she felt her tears soaking through his shirt. He could only shake his head in response and assure her it was okay, that she had nothing to be sorry for.

Once she began to calm down – her sobs ceasing and tears drying on her skin – he pulled away, cupping her cheeks in his calloused hands to look at her. The whites of her eyes were a faint red, and her face was slightly puffy from crying.

“Talk to me?” he whispered, his eyes begging her to tell him what was wrong - what he could do to help.

Hesitantly, she nodded, and the moment she did he felt like he could breathe again. He pressed his hand against the small of her back and led her back to their bedroom, where they both sat on the edge of the soft bed. His hands reached for hers and he held them, gently rubbing his thumb against her skin.

“John,” she managed to whisper, and he hummed, urging her to continue, “Do you still find me attractive?”

The question alone took him aback, but it was the seriousness in her tone that made him freeze. His brows knit together, and his eyes looked more concerned than before as he leaned forward. He searched her face for something, perhaps because a part of him wished this was all just a really bad joke.

“’Course I do,” he stated in disbelief, “What makes you think I don’t?”

She shrugged, her eyes gazing down at their intertwined fingers, “I just-” she let out a deep sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Hey,” he moved off the bed and crouched down in front of her, keeping his hands on top of hers as he looked into her eyes, “You can tell me.”

She looked more tired from this angle. The way the shadows fell on her face made her look as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. The frown that pulled on her lips didn’t make it any better, only showing how truly devastated she looked.

His mind began to work on overdrive. Had he said something to her? Did he do something without realising? Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe someone said something nasty to her, and now she couldn’t get their words out of her head.

It was as though she could hear the thoughts that ran through his head. She shook her head at him and let out a small breath, “I just... I don’t feel-” she groaned, placing her hands on her face, “Whenever I look at myself all I can see is flaws, and sometimes I’m scared that one day it will be all you’ll start seeing, too.”

He couldn’t believe his own ears. He couldn’t believe she thought of herself that way, that she saw herself that way. His chest felt heavy as he moved to sit beside her and placed a comforting hand on the small of her back.

“Did someone say something to you?” he questioned; his voice gentle as he spoke.

“No.” she assured him, “No, no-one said anything, and don’t worry, you didn’t do anything either. It’s me – I just don’t like the way I look. Honestly, I don’t know what you see in me, John.”

He hummed, taking her words in and digesting them before he opened his mouth, “D’you want to know what I see?”

She swallowed thickly, “What?”

“Definitely not the flaws you’re seeing, love,” he attempted to lighten her mood. “I’m not even sure what ‘flaws’ you’re thinking of. All I can see is my beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Despite the awful thoughts still plaguing her mind, she couldn’t help but become bashful at his words. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, and hated herself for lifting the corners of her mouth into a small smile.

“There you are,” he said as though he hadn’t seen her in months. He quickly turned serious, a hand pressing against her cheek to turn her face in his direction, “You’ll always be beautiful to me,” he said her name with so much love, she could feel her heart swell, “Even when we’re both old, wrinkly and complaining about back pain. I love you, and that’s never going to change.”

“You already complain about your back pain,” she pointed out as her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“See, we’re already half way there,” he laughed, “If you ever feel like this again, you tell me, alright?” she nodded into his shoulder, “I can’t have you feeling like this.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “For worrying you.”

“I’m your husband,” he chuckled, pulling away from her, “It’s my job to worry, yeah?”

She snorted at that, and he couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. With a small laugh of his own, he pressed his lips against hers and used his thumbs to wipe away the dry tears from her cheeks. The kiss started off sweet and gentle, their soft lips melting against one another in the slow dance. But it eventually turned more passionate – more lustful – as he pressed his lips harder against hers, hands beginning to wander down from her hips.

They pulled away to catch their breaths, their foreheads pressing together in a loving gesture. “Can I show you just how beautiful you are to me?” he asked.

She knew what he meant by this, and she didn’t even have to think about her answer. She nodded, a small ‘yeah’ leaving her lips as she pressed them against his once again. This kiss was short and sweet and he smiled when they moved apart.

Placing his hands on her hips, he guided her along the bed to rest her head on the fluffy pillows. He hovered above her, hand resting by her head as he leaned down to kiss her once again. His tongue entered her mouth, and the quiet mewl that left her when their tongues met had his body turning hot. They explored one another as if it was their first time doing so; hands ran up and down each other’s bodies and tongues swiped against one another in a loving embrace.

A string of saliva connected them when John eventually pulled away. His breathing was heavy and eyes closed as he attempted to calm himself down. He pressed his nose against the soft skin of her cheek and decided to press more kisses there, trailing from her cheek, to her jaw, down her neck and stopping just above her clavicle.

“John,” she whispered, legs moving to rest on either side of his hips.

He groaned at her needy tone, the sound of her voice only spurring him on as he kissed past her clavicle and over her shirt. His hands slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and rolled up the material to her ribs to expose her stomach. His lips attached to the newly uncovered skin, pressing soft kisses around her belly button.

As his lips moved downward, stopping at the waistband of her bottoms, he noticed something different. Instead of the usual shorts she wore to bed, her legs were covered with long pyjama bottoms that reached her ankles. He frowned, eyes gazing up at her curiously.

“Is it your legs, love?” he asked, brows furrowing in question.

She let out a sharp breath, her tongue wetting her lips as she nodded. He kissed the softness of her abdomen before pushing himself up to look into her eyes. “Can I take ‘em off?” he asked seriously, hand stroking the apple of her cheek.

She nodded, though he could see the hesitance in her eyes. One of his hands settled on the soft skin of her hip, gently rubbing the area with his thumb as he tilted his head to the side in thought. He let out a soft hum, eyes analysing her own.

“John,” her voice caught his attention, “I trust you. I just... it’s my thighs...”

“Are you sure?” he asked, wanting to be certain she definitely wanted this.

She smiled at him, and pressed a hot kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling, and almost whined when she pulled away, “I want you, John.”

He only smiled before moving his head back down towards her stomach and pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin. He hooked his fingers at the waistband of her bottoms and began to pull them downward, her hips rising a little to help him get them off.

Despite him having seen her naked countless times before, and despite still having her underwear and shirt on, she felt more exposed than ever. Yet when she looked into his eyes, which were already staring back at her - scanning her face for discomfort – she felt herself relax; his eyes were so soft, and held so much love, she felt like her heart was going to burst at the sight.

He pressed his lips against her knee as he held her leg carefully in his hand. He squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, enjoying how it jiggled underneath his fingertips. Her breath hitched when he lifted her leg further up her body, the top of her thigh making contact with her torso.

The position reminded her of the many times he practically folded her in half to pound deeper into her. It reminded her of the nights when she finished multiple times in a row, and when her legs felt sore the day after. But this time was different; instead of his fingertips digging into the skin of her hip, they softly held onto her knee; instead of harsh kisses that stole her breath away, he lightly pressed his lips against the bumpy area of her thigh.

His eyes gazed upon the cellulite that decorated her skin, but unlike her, he didn’t see flaws. All he saw was the woman he fell in love with. The woman he was willing to take a bullet for. The bumpy area of her thigh was nothing but a decoration on her body. And he kissed it. He kissed every bump that adorned her skin, refusing to miss even a single one.

Her breathing was turning heavy as he travelled from underneath her knee and down to her buttocks. His fingers caressed the cellulite on her thigh before digging his fingers into her skin and moving her leg to expose the cotton of her underwear.

He moved his face toward her core, and placed a soft kiss against her clothed clit. A soft mewl left her lips at the action, and he smiled proudly at the sound. “You mind if I take ‘em off, love?”

She shook her head, and practically begged him to do just that. A breathless ‘please’ left her lips, and that’s all he needed. Quickly, yet still as carefully and softly as before, he pulled the material off her hips and almost salivated at the sight of her bottom half bare in front of him. He swore he would never get tired of seeing her like this; with eyes clenched shut and mouth ajar, small sighs leaving her open lips as she subconsciously rutted her hips towards him.

“John,” his name left her lips in a quiet plea.

He smirked, and on any other occasion he would have waited another moment; he would have her begging to place his lips around her. Yet this time he gave her what she wanted – what she needed – without a second thought.

His lips were wrapped on her already swollen clit before she got the chance to say his name again. A choked moan left her lips at the feeling, and her fingers went to grab onto his short hair. Her thighs clenched around his head when his tongue pressed against her hot skin, tasting her arousal as he licked her from the opening of her vagina, and up to her sensitive bud.

She let out a desperate whine as she lifted her hips, pressing her core harder against his face. She felt him smile against her, the hairs of his beard digging into the skin of her thighs. He wrapped an arm around her abdomen and pushed her down to keep her in place.

His lips were back to sucking on her clit in no time, and she felt as his index finger moved through her labia and gently pushed into her. The feeling was ecstatic, and she couldn’t help the loud moan that tumbled from her lips. “John,” she chanted his name as though it was the only name she knew.

He pumped the finger in and out, the sound of her wetness seeping out of her making his cock feel even harder than it already was. He added another finger and curled them in her tight canal. Her soft walls clenched around his digits, and when she attempted to arch her back, he knew she was close.

The pulls on his hair turned harsher, and her soft thighs squeezed his head when her walls began to spasm. He let her push her core against him, his mouth refusing to leave the swell of her clit as she shook underneath him. Her orgasm seeped out of her and drenched his fingers, which he continued to pump in and out until she stopped moving.

He pulled out his digits from her and placed them in his mouth, keeping eye contact with her when he licked them clean off her orgasm. The sound that left her lips was unholy, and it took everything in him to not grin like the Cheshire cat in return.

“You’re stunning,” he told her, and smiled when she moaned at his words.

He moved back towards her face and kissed her hungrily. She could taste herself on his tongue, and the it made her wrap her arms tightly around his neck. She pushed her torso into his, and when her naked crotch made contact with his still clothed dick, she felt how hard he was. She could only imagine how uncomfortable it was, so she let her hands travel from the hard muscles in his back and towards his abdomen, eager to wrap her fingers around his thickness.

Her hands barely had time to touch the soft material before he pulled them away and shook his head at her. “Not tonight,” he told her and stood up to remove the soft material himself.

His boxers ended up on the floor of their bedroom, and he didn’t stop until he was fully bare in front of her, his shirt joining the small pile on the floor. She shamelessly ogled his form from the bed, now sat up and hugging her naked legs against her chest.

He let out a small chuckle at the sight of her, “Enjoying the view?” he asked, getting on his knees in front of her.

She giggled, “Wish I could take a picture,” she answered with a soft smile.

He breathed out a laugh and grabbed onto the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her before letting it join his own clothes on the floor. “Show me,” he told her and she looked up at him with a confused expression, “What else, love? Show me.”

She bit into her bottom lip in thought before nodding and grabbing his wrist. Spreading her thighs so he could step between them, she moved his hand toward her hip. He got her to lay back down as he analysed her skin. It was only then that he saw the faint lines on her body, the stretch marks running from the top of her hip and down to her thigh.

Truth be told, he never paid them much mind. Sure, he’s seen that they were there, but he never would have guessed they caused her such heartache – such pain. He pressed gentle kisses on her hip, smiling against her before moving to hover above her once again.

“You know, all scars tell us is that we survived,” he pointed at his own torso, which was littered with scars of all sizes. Some were short and faint and others long and deep, but they all told the same story; he survived everything that was thrown his way.

She let out a sigh, “They’re not scars, John. They’re stretch marks. I haven’t survived anything.”

“Yeah, you have,” he argued, and she knit her brows in question, “You survive every day, don’t you? No matter what’s thrown at you, you’ve survived it all. Like that time you hit yourself on the table – remember the bruise you had for weeks?” He asked and she nodded, “Look, you might not have survived anything life-threatening, but you survived nonetheless. I mean, you survive with me and my, as you call them, ‘awful hats’ everyday, so that counts for something.” He laughed, “They’re nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.”

She could feel the tears brimming her eyes at his words. She managed to nod, pulling him into another kiss as her legs wrapped around his torso. She was becoming desperate, his words only making her want him inside her more and more.

“John,” she breathed out, “I love you. I love you so much.”

He groaned when her hand suddenly grabbed onto the base of his cock and pumped him, moving up and down his length. She lined the tip with the wet entrance of her vagina, moaning at the feeling of his hot and sticky skin pressing against her.

“I love you, too,” he managed to say as he pushed inside of her.

The feeling of his cock stretching her out felt heavenly. She could feel every inch of him as he moved inside of her, pushing in until he bottomed out. His pelvis was pressed against her clit, and she clenched her walls around him at the feeling.

He grunted, tightening his hold on her left hip as his other hand moved to rest beside her head. “Fuck,” he cursed, forehead pressing against her shoulder. He tapped his hand against the side of her hip, and she arched against him, her hard nipples pressing deliciously against his hot skin.

Taking the chance, he moved a pillow underneath the small of her back, the slight lift allowing him to push even further into her. His tip pressed against the soft wall of her cervix, and she attempted to move her hips against his.

The desperation was clear on her face when he opened his eyes to look at her. His forehead pressed against hers and he finally moved his hips – slowly, sensually. His thrusts were slow and deep, as though he was trying to reach the deepest depths of her being.

She could feel the love radiating off him; the tenderness of his movements, gentle hold he had on her thigh as he pushed it further up his torso – attempting to reach as deeply as humanly possible – and the way he pressed small kisses against her temple. She could feel it all, and it brought hot tears to her eyes.

He held onto him as the tears began to roll down her cheeks, and her hips moved in sync with his. He whispered her name in her ear, followed by words of adoration, “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he spoke against her ear, his beard tickling her skin.

She clenched around him and her hips stuttered with every word – with every thrust. “So gorgeous,” he continued, lips pressing against the edge of her jaw after every word, “My fuckin’ gorgeous wife.”

Her abdomen felt hot, and the knot that slowly began to form in her stomach was threatening to snap. He could feel it; he could feel her getting closer. He slightly sped up his movements, his pelvis rubbing against her clit with every single thrust.

It was becoming too much. The words of love he chanted in her ear, the way her breasts rubbed against the scarred skin of his chest, and the way his cock pressed against the wall of her cervix with every single thrust. It was too much, and with a clench of her walls, she felt the knot finally break.

A loud moan got past his lips as the feeling of her walls hugging him tighter. His own hips began to stutter, and as she continued to spasm in his arms, her pushed into her with one final thrust.

She felt the warmth of his cum filling up her insides, the feeling only making her whine louder than before. His forehead went to press against hers once more as he fully emptied himself inside of her, his orgasm mixing with hers.

They stayed like that for a moment; he was still inside her, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and bodies remained flushed together. They were both panting, their chests heaving after the passionate and intense session.

When she eventually opened her eyes – her vision slightly blurred from her orgasm – he was already staring back at her. The corners of his lips were pulled into a smile, and his eyes held a softness she had seen many times before, yet would never get tired of.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he repeated the compliment he had previously chanted like a prayer.

She smiled, her arms loosening around his neck as she moved to cup his cheeks in her palms, “Hello, handsome,” she replied.

With a look full of love, he pressed a kiss against her cheek and pushed himself up to pull out of her. She whined at the feeling of sudden loss, her hands grabbing onto his forearms that were on either side of her head. She could feel his release slowly seeping out of her, and before it could trickle too far down – before their bed sheets were ruined – he picked her up from the bed.

She let out a squeal of surprise when she was lifted into his arms, and with an amused laugh, he took them both to the bathroom. “Bath?” he asked as he placed her on her feet, making sure she was steady and her legs weren’t wobbling.

She held onto his shoulder for a second, but nodded when she felt the feeling return to her legs. As he went to draw them both a bath, she reached for the towel cabinet and pulled out a small, clean rag. She wet it with warm water and just as she was about to wipe it on her thigh, it was taken from her.

John turned her around and pressed her back against the cold sink, making her hiss out at the feeling. He only chuckled when he grabbed one of her thighs and pulled it up towards him, only to then press the warm towel against her hot skin. He cleaned off the stickiness of her thighs, doing the same for himself before pressing the material flush against her crotch, collecting the arousal that had seeped out of her.

She couldn’t help but flinch and moan at the feeling, her mouth falling ajar as she grabbed onto her husband’s bicep. “Sorry, had to clean you up,” he told her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She almost rolled her eyes at him, but could only smile when he pulled her in for a kiss. The towel was discarded in the sink as his hands moved to rest on her waist. The skin-on-skin contact was nice, the intimacy of the moment causing a certain peacefulness to fall upon them.

“C’mon,” he eventually said and led her to the bathtub full of hot water.

The moment the water enveloped her, she could feel her muscles relaxing from the warmth that surrounded her. John stepped in behind her and pulled her into his chest, where she rested her head against his shoulder.

His hand moved to lay on the expanse of her stomach, lightly rubbing the area as she nuzzled into him. She finally felt happy, and content with herself. The insecurities that previously burdened her mind were forgotten, and the only thing she could focus on was John, and how he lovingly held onto her. She knew the thoughts would eventually return, and that they would try their very hardest to be the only thing occupying her mind. But she also knew John would be there to put a stop to them every single time.

“Thank you, John,” she whispered into the silence.

All he did in return was press his cheek against the top of her head and hum as he pulled her in even closer towards him. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to, because his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

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lis-likes-fics · 1 year

Text

Dark, Dirty Secrets

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Original Male Character x Reader Word Count: 19.5k Warnings: NSFW, dark themes, domestic abuse, adultery, language, character death, smut, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, praise kink, breeding kink, possessive speech, ect... A/N: I might get hate for doing this, idk, but I am going to purposefully leave out a couple of warnings because I don’t want to spoil the plots in this fic. When I say “dark themes” in the warnings, I mean dark themes. If you do not think you can handle it, please do not indulge. You have been warned. Thank you.

The morning light is warm on your naked back, but Tommy's hand is warmer as he sets his palm on your side, caressing the skin with his thumb. You smile, glancing at him over your shoulder as he reaches over for his case of cigarettes.

"How do you think the race'll go?" you ask.

Tommy picks a cigarette, rubbing it along his lips. He reaches for the light on the bedside table, coming up empty when you bring the flame to life yourself. He smiles and leans forward to let you light his cigarette, taking in the first puff before answering you. "Midsummer has been trained by the best of the best; she'll be great."

You slide your bra along your arms, fastening it tight around your chest with a sigh. "You don't think it's too soon?"

Smoke swirls around his head as he blows it out in one long stream, finally moving to sit up. "Nonsense," he sighs. "She's a natural born. She was made for the tracks." He leans over, pressing his nose into your neck before kissing you there. "Just like you were made for my bed."

A laugh bubbles out of you in response as you shoo him away. "Alright," you chuckle, smiling wide. Sorting through your pile of clothes, you raise a brow. "I'm surprised you didn't rip my clothes to hell."

He hums deeply, seemingly amused. "Me, too."

You pick your pantyhose from the mess and chuckle once as you shake your head. "Oh, nevermind then." You glance over your shoulder again, smirking devilishly at Tommy. "I guess now I have to walk around arse out."

He shrugs, raising a dark brow. "More for me, then."

"Ha ha," you mutter. You lean over to him, plucking his cigarette from between his pretty lips. Kissing him longer than you should, you push yourself to stand as you saunter over to his dresser. Tommy watches the way your hips sway as you walk away from him with his cigarette between your own lips now, stopping to pull open the top drawer where he has clothes of yours left over from so many occasions before.

You hear his footsteps as he stands, walking back over to you. He sets his hands on your sides, listening to your longing sigh as he drags them down slowly from your ribs, ending at your hips when your body jerks slightly and your sigh is interrupted by a short gasp.

"What?" he asks, brows furrowed at your strange reaction to his touch.

You shake your head, pulling a smile over your lips. You blow out some smoke. "Nothing."

He takes a step back, fixing his gaze on your hips deepening his furrowed brow when he sees a slight discoloration over the skin. It's the first time he's noticed it; when you came over last night, you were both too desperate and it was too dark to see.

"Where did this come from?" His voice is darker than it had been moments before, a dangerous edge that you know all too well.

"What?" you ask, still sifting through the drawer to find the clothes you are searching for.

His face is so close to yours, his lips are practically brushing your skin. "On your hips," he says, gently grasping you there again. Your hips jerk.

"You're not the only man who's rough in bed, Tommy Boy," you dismiss, smirking his way. You put the cigarette on the ashtray atop the dresser before pulling a new pair of your undergarments from the drawer and bending down to slip them over your legs again. As you're bent over like this, Tommy doesn't move, instead opting to enjoy the sight of your backside pressing into his own hips.

He's handsy as he caresses his palms along your back, sighing deeply at the feeling of your skin against his. "Well, tell Mr. Reddoch to stop bruising me goods."

You stand up straight again, pulling open another drawer where your thin white gowns are folded neatly beside his shirts. "First," you chuckle, "that would imply telling Henry about this." You reach back and run your hand through his dark hair. "Second, maybe you should stop bruising your goods. I've gotta cover this up now, else he murders me." You smooth your hand on your neck where he's marked you with his teeth, dark and purple and too obvious.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply. "No one is murdering my girl on my watch."

You hum, a fond smile on your lips as he wraps his arms around your center and pulls your back closer to his chest. He ducks his head and kisses your neck, lips and tongue and teeth caressing your skin there and filling the pit of your stomach with warmth.

"Stop," you chuckle half-heartedly. "We have to go soon, and no one's leaving if you're pushing me against the wall again."

He does exactly that, shifting you over and encouraging you toward the wall with an urgency that swells in both your chests. He presses you against the cold surface, your body squished between it and him as his naked body traps your partially clothed one.

"I'm not arguing," he smiles, already bunching up the thin silk of your gown to pull down your pantyhose once more.

You laugh excitedly. "Tommy!"

The venue is already heavily populated when you arrive, stepping out of your car with your hat resting on your head. The tracks are full of people eager to watch the races as you make your way through the crowd.

Tommy, who drove his own car, comes up behind you with a hand on your lower back. It's innocent enough that no one cares as you walk to meet your people. Pushing through the attendees, you find them easily.

"There they are!" Arthur's raucous voice exclaims over the conversation swarming through the place. You smile at him, already holding your arms open to welcome the oldest Shelby brother.

"Hello, Arthur," you greet him, grunting when he hugs you a little too tight before letting you go. Esme and John are the last to join the group (though there's a whole other one already waiting at your seats), saying their own greetings.

You spot Henry and offer him a smile, stepping into his space as he welcomes you happily. "What did you girls talk about?" he asks, taking you in his arms as you stand so close to his chest that you might as well be stepping on his toes. He holds you like you're dancing, hand in hand, the other supporting you.

"Telling you would spoil the purpose of girl's night, wouldn't it?" you question, raising a brow.

He sighs, "Suppose you're right."

"'Course, I am," you smile. You lean forward slowly and kiss your husband, raising a hand to his cheek as the thin, golden band on your finger caresses his skin. His hand cradles the back of your head.

"Alright," Arthur interrupts, "you gonna snog all day and miss the race or are you gonna place your bets?"

You separate, laughing. "We're coming, we're coming," you assure him. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Arthur."

He walks over, slapping his hand on either of your shoulders as he smiles wide. "My knickers are just fine," he announces.

Tommy pats his brother's back with a heavy palm as he comes up behind him. "Fine silk," he says. "Pretty and pink."

John steps up on his other side. "Only the best for a Shelby."

In high spirits, the boys laugh. When you turn to Henry again, his gaze is on your neck and you tilt your head.

"Where did that come from?" he asks, scooting in closer to speak privately to you. He's still got one of your hands intertwined with his.

"What?"

He brings his hand up, brushing the tips of his fingers over your neck. Your own hand follows as you take into account what he's talking about, offering a smile with as few nerves as you can manage. "You," you tell him, smiling gently. "Don't you remember?"

He raises a brow and shakes his head, "I didn't give you that." His hold on your hand tightens. You can feel the tingling in your fingertips but choose not to bring attention to it.

"It's probably just fuzzy," you say, stepping closer to rest your hand on his shoulder. You graze your fingertips along the back of his neck, right down the center as you smile. "You were drinking, it was late… and I was screaming."

Your suggestion darkens the look in his eyes for a different reason. His lips pull in a small smirk, and you consider yourself safe. "You were, weren't you?"

You nod gently, making sure he sees the way your eyes dart down to his lips, "'Course I was."

He pulls you in even closer, your bodies practically melded together. "Maybe you should remind me."

"Maybe I should," you agree.

He kisses you quickly. "Let's go, then, eh?"

You nod. "Give me a moment, yeah?"

"Don't keep me waiting," he says, his words almost a warning as he lets you go. You step out of his hold, walking over to Tommy with a sly grin.

He'd been watching you. It isn't hard to tell, it isn't as though he tried to hide it by looking away. He has no reason for shame.

"Be back soon," you say, stopping too close to him. "Don't send a search party."

He leans forward ever-so-slightly, raising a brow. "You're a whore," he says.

You know he's only teasing as you smile wide, laughing heartily. "I'm a wife," you correct softly. Sending him a wink and a playful kiss, you step back. "Don't wait up."

You turn on your heel to join Henry's side. He pulls you in, walking away with you as you feel Tommy's eyes burn holes into the back of your neck. Your skin is on fire only through the feeling of his eyes on you, and it's driving you insane.

As soon as a secluded corner presents itself, Henry shoves you into it with the urgency of a starving man. His lips are all over yours, a vicious attack of the skin as his hands grasp at flesh and blood. He's rough when he begins to paw at your clothes with one hand, eager to be rid of them as he tugs them down your body. His other hand gathers your wrists above your head and his hips press you against the wall as he holds you a little too tight.

You grab his bicep, pushing it back some as you speak breathlessly to him. "Wait, slow down," you urge "You're going to tear my dress."

He has little care for such things as he waves his hand dismissively. "I might as well. You don't need them."

"We're in public. I can't walk around with my arse out."

As if on cue, he reaches down and grabs a handful of the doughy flesh, kneading it in his palm as his fingers dig harshly into you. His grip on your wrists tighten, you feel your fingers tingling, burning at the sensation. It aches as he does so, and your hips jerk away from him. "Ow," you groan, clenching your teeth, "Henry, stop, you're hurting me."

He smirks wide, looking almost devilish as seems to grip your bottom harder. "I bet you love it, too," he huffs, his mouth sloppy against the skin of your exposed collarbone. He reaches down to bunch up the bottom of your dress, urging it up your legs as he exposes more and more of it.

"Henry, slow down," you bid, gasping when his teeth clamp down around your shoulder. You wriggle your hands free and push him away from you, shoving him back just enough to put some space between your bodies. You take a moment to breathe, but he doesn't give you long as he's already advancing toward you again.

"Come back here," he orders, though it's not mean. He says it as though you are playing a game as he smiles wide and mischievously, and somehow, that's much scarier than the former.

As he steps closer, you stutter backwards with an urgency in your eyes that deters him a moment. His playfulness is gone and his shoulders drop. He releases a breath and steps back.

"You don't want me."

And then the guilt sinks into your flesh and sticks to your bones like glue.

Guilt from this morning, your forbidden pleasures with Tommy, his claim on your neck, skin on skin on skin.

Henry's eyes are burdened with a sadness that aches and pulls the strings of your heart like the trigger of a gun.

You smile slowly, fixing your dress as you close the distance between the both of you by taking his face in your hands. "'Course I do." He looks away from you, not quite convinced, even as you stroke your thumb over his cheek. His hands reach up to grasp your wrists again, and you try not to wince at the feeling of his grip on your aching skin. You turn his face to look at you, shivering at the ice of his eyes.

You swallow thickly. "But the race is about to start," you place your hands on his chest, "so why don't we be quick and finish this later?" He watches you sink to your knees, slow but slightly shaking as you kneel before him.

His smile from before returns, as does the predatory gaze in his eyes. "Yeah," he nods slowly, a hand on your cheek. "Not too quick, though."

You breathe a half-hearted laugh and make quick work of his belt.

You dig in your purse to fish out your lipstick, smearing it carefully over your lips with the small mirror in your gloved palm. White lace travels up from your fingers to the middle of your arm, hiding the newly discolored bruises on your wrists. As you snap it closed and turn to see Henry, he looks satisfied and you relax.

You walk over to him, fixing his disheveled hair with deft fingers. He watches you with a smile, brushing his fingers along your hairline and down to your chin. You smile at the tenderness and lean forward to kiss him, eager for his softer touch for as long as you have it.

But as you lean forward, he leans back. "We'll be late," he says, wiping his hands down the front of his expensive suit and walking away. You watch him go, your heart heavy and your throat hot.

You follow him back to the group, finding them quickly as you take your seat between him and Tommy, cigarette between his lips. You sit down silently, your back too straight and your chest tight.

When you feel Tommy's fingers brush your hand, you look over at him. He's got a smile on his face, it's small and teasing but it makes you feel just a little lighter.

"Looking a little flustered, love," he remarks, his cigarette pinched between his fingers.

He expects a smart reply, accustomed to quick wit and far too much sass for one woman. But all he gets is a tiny, "Yeah."

Tommy frowns and whispers your name. You look at him and you see it, the care he insists isn't there. You smile at him, brushing your fingers against his hand. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Promise."

He leans in, eyes narrowed in challenge as smoke bellows from his lips. "You're a dirty liar," he mutters into your ear, motioning toward you with the burning end of his cigarette.

Your smile turns a smirk as you take it from him, the slyness he's used to sinking back in at his words. "I have to be with you." You wink and blow a stream of smoke into the air. Your gaze lingers for just a moment longer than it should before you're turning your attention to the tracks, giving his cigarette back.

Tommy watches you a few seconds more before following suit, relaxing just a bit now that he knows you're okay.

Glass clinks against glass, surrounded by cheers and shouts of celebration of Midsummer's victory. Most of the celebration is packed into one of the smaller rooms, trays of glasses and mugs littering the large table as everyone takes what they want.

"And you doubted her," Tommy tuts as he takes a sip from his glass.

You roll your eyes and laugh, "I would never doubt that beautiful beast. She was made for the tracks." You pat your husband's chest next to you.

"As I said," Tommy nods.

Henry raises his glass to him, "You sure know how to pick 'em, Tom."

"It's in me blood."

Polly comes through with her glass in hand, waving them aside. "Away with you, boy," she orders. "Go and drink and celebrate."

Arthur raises his glass as she comes to stand by him, hand on his chest to push him back. "We are celebrating, Pol. We'll be celebrating all night!"

Shouts rose from the pub in response to that, agreeing whole-heartedly with him. The only people not exclaiming their cheers are you and Henry, distracted and lip-locked as you sit on his lap.

Ada's hand grasps your arm as she pulls you off of him, rolling her eyes in slight disgust of the public display. "Hey!" you exclaim giddily.

Polly's on her side, still talking to the boys. "Yeah, well, go do it somewhere else. It's girls' time now."

John groans loudly, throwing his head back lazily over the seat. "Why is it always girls' time?" he complains, allowing Esme to pull him up and shove him into his brothers. "What are they hiding from us, you think?" he asks them.

Esme, with her hands on his chest, smiles, "Dark, dirty secrets that'll run your mind to mush." She kisses him quick. "Now off with you lot."

"Alright, fine! Don't drink all the good stuff," Arthur complies, already reaching for another glass before he turns to leave as Polly and Ada continue to usher them out.

You laugh and your eyes find Tommy's, watching you too fondly. "It's no fun otherwise," you wink. They close the doors loudly behind themselves, leaving the four of you alone to gossip.

As soon as Polly is sure no prying ears are listening in, she smiles. "So," she begins, leaning back in her seat with a cigarette between her fingers, "how are the husbands?"

Esme scoffs, although not unkindly. "Cunt drunk." You scoff as well, agreeing whole-heartedly.

Ada laughs. "Oh, we saw plenty of that."

Polly just smiles and nods once, "Good girls, then." She blows out some smoke slowly through puckered lips.

You shrug, turning back to Ada. "Polly said to keep their bellies full and their balls empty." You smile slyly, bringing your glass to your lips. "Who am I to refuse?"

Ada raises her brows playfully, motioning toward you with her drink. "You're a dirty whore, is what you are."

You mirror her expression, though you feign surprise as you sit up a little straighter. "Then I should start charging," you tease.

"A girl like you?" Esme looks you up and down, smirking just as much as you. "You'd make good money."

You chuckle, leaning back to cross your legs. "Oh, then I should definitely start charging."

They laugh with you, reveling in the smoke and liquor in the air. Esme's expression sobers a little as she turns to you again. "How's your husband, love? Still givin' you trouble?"

You lean forward again, uncrossing your legs and taking a small sip of your drink again. "Oh, he's fine," you say.

Polly stands, walking over to you in the small space. "I don't normally call this–" she pokes your side, right over your bruised hip with little tenderness, "–fine."

These three are the only ones who know about your relationship with your husband, not even Tommy knows, his best man at your wedding and your closest friend. You would tell the boys, but they would likely try to kill Henry—you've been a Shelby friend for a very long time, long before they ever even heard of Henry Reddoch. Arthur, John, and Ada are practically your siblings.

But the relationship you have with Tommy has never been familial.

You look at her, face fallen and slightly annoyed. "Ow." She raises a brow, a silent question as to whether or not you think she cares if her poking you hurt. You run a hand along your side absent-mindedly before grabbing your cup for another drink. "He's just rough, is all," you defend calmly. You look up at her with a smirk, "And I'm good at what I do."

Polly's fingers shift hair from your face and neck. "And, yet," she says, "all Tommy does is this." She reveals the mark left on your skin from this morning.

You raise your brow this time, challenging her just a tad, "How do you know that was him and not my husband?"

She breathes a humorless laugh at your foolish challenge and grabs your hand. "Because your husband does this," Polly says, pulling your glove off your hand and showing you the bruising of your wrist—as if you hadn't known it was there.

You snatch your hand from hers, replacing the glove and shaking your head lightly. "I can handle my husband." You look at her, completely serious. "Let me handle him."

"Oh, you'll handle him alright," Ada mumbles. She takes another sip of her glass.

Esme follows suit. "Then you'll come back round here with another bruise, this time around your neck."

You sigh and shake your head, tilting your head and tapping your finger against the smooth wood of the table. "It's just the war," you say, lamenting the time before all of this. The time your husband was softer, gentler. Yes, it has been a while.

You'd been married to Henry for nearly a year before he was sent off the war with Tommy and the rest of the boys. They were so different back then, kinder, lighter, happier. They were gone for so long, and when they returned, the part of them that you had cherished for their tenderness was gone. But no one lost more warmth than Henry—even Tommy, with his eyes of ice and heart of stone. Henry came back, but some of his soul had never returned: the smile that was a little bit bigger, the laugh that was a little bit fuller, the hands that were a little bit softer.

He loves you, and you love him…but the limits of where that love is sometimes feel constricting.

You breathe in deep, feigning your smile. "It changes men."

Esme sighs, muttering under her breath but unafraid to voice her feelings. "Me husband went to war, but he doesn't bruise me like a peach."

You scoff. You know they mean well, but, quite frankly, you're tired of hearing it. "We're married, we're kind of together ''til death do us part' and all that."

Polly waves her hand. "It'll always be the war." She leans in closer, raising a brow as she urges you to listen. "Doesn't mean you have to keep fighting it."

You take her in, the way she watches you. "Stop worrying," you say after a moment, looking around the table at everyone. "I'll be fine."

Ada sighs deeply, sitting back and taking a drink from her glass. "You act like a Shelby."

"You might marry one and make it official," Polly adds.

You laugh lightly. "And now she's trying to marry me off to her nephew."

Polly's hard gaze is back on you, unapologetic and hardly leaving room for argument. "Either way," her words are firm, almost prophetic, as most of them are, "this thing you've got goin', it won't last. One day…it'll turn to blood in your mouth."

You stare at her, and you almost shiver at the ice running down your spine. There's a shock to what she says, and you have half a mind, not only to heed her words, but to fear them.

Still, you steel your nerves and offer a small smile, a pitiful reassurance of well-being. "I'll take care of it, Pol." You straighten your back. "I'm a Blinder, same as you. No one fucks with the Peaky Blinders."

She scoots closer, speaking closely to you as though what she says is a secret. She never blinks as she speaks to you, never wavers. She just stares you dead in the eyes as she warns, "He's a Blinder, too, sweetheart. Don't forget that."

You grant her a sober look, a silent confirmation that you hear and understand her. "I've got it, Polly." She examines you quickly before leaning back again, tilting her chin up as she nods and hums.

"In the meantime," Esme breaks the tension, "this is meant to be a celebration."

Ada nods, a smile returning to her face as she grabs her glass. "Right," she says, a new chipper in her tone. "To Midsummer, the beautiful beast of burden."

You grab your glass, a new grin on your lips. "I'll drink to that."

The glasses clink loudly in the air as you raise a simple toast to the horse you named with Tommy. Just as you're bringing the cup to your lips, Polly snatches it from you and sets it on the table.

You roll your eyes and groan, "What now?" She hardly gives you time to process, and even less time to actually finish your two-word sentence before her hand is clasping over your breast, groping you suddenly in her palm.

"What the hell?" you exclaim, moving away from her to no avail.

She looks up at you, furrowing her brows and finally letting go of you tit. "How late are you?"

You shrug, "A few days?"

"How many is a few?" She raises a brow.

You think for half a second. "Maybe a week," you confess. "But I'm never regular, what does it matter?"

Polly moves her hand to your belly, "Matters a lot." She sits back, staring you down with an intensity you find is common in her eyes.

"You're having a baby."

"What?"

"Polly, you're serious?" Ada questions.

She shrugs, "No reason to lie."

You pale, your mouth gaping like a fish as you try to process her words. "I'm…" You shake your head. "I'm pregnant?"

"Quite."

Your eyes are glued to the table, refusing to look at anyone until you've processed enough.

"Is it a Shelby baby?"

"Esme!" Your eyes shoot up to her, staring her down at her blunt question.

She's got no shame, raising her brow and shrugging. "Am I wrong?"

You turn your focus to Polly. "If this baby comes out like Tommy, there will be trouble," you say, urgent and scared and excited.

Polly presses her hand into your belly, feeling around for something as she closes her eyes to focus. The way she looks at you when she opens her eyes again, her face a mix of pride and wariness.

"You'd better clean your guns then."

Ada tilts her head, "Pol."

She announces it without regret. "It's a Shelby boy."

Your head feels cloudy, and the world is spinning slowly. You are suddenly aware of every breath passing through your lungs, every beat of your heart in your chest and pulse in your veins.

"I'm…" your breath shudders and you look at Polly. "I'm having a Shelby baby?"

Ada smiles wide, chuckling slightly, "I honestly don't know whether to hug you or feel sorry for ya."

Reaching for your glass, Esme tilts her head. "Did ya ever want kids?"

You shrug, watching her take your drink and pour it into her own. "When the boys left for war, I put the idea away," you admit.

Ada leans forward. "And now?"

You take a deep breath, looking at her. "And now…" you shake your head, "I'm pregnant, and the baby isn't my husband's."

Esme bobs her brows, bringing her glass to her lips. "You're the fucking his best man."

You turn your gaze on her, tilting your head with an exasperated sigh. "Thank you, Esme."

She just shrugs. Am I wrong?

"Alright, boys," Ada announces, setting her glass on the bar. "I think it's time for us to go home."

It's been hours and the party is still in full swing, but that's mostly because the Shelby's are here and in high spirits.

Arthur disagrees, groaning as he holds his arms open in protest. "Oh, come on! The night's only just begun." The men agree.

Ada laughs. "Well, one of you boys is gonna have to take me and Pol home. Who's it gonna be?"

Esme steps into her husband's space, her voice low but not quiet. She intertwines their hands and tilts her head at him. "And you and I, John, have to make sure the kids have been out to bed."

John smirks slowly, looking up at Arthur with lazy eyes. "On second thought, Arthur," he chuckles, "it is a good time to go home."

Arthur sulks a little, but not unplayfully. Tommy just shakes his head with a poorly concealed grin as he walks over to his sister next to you. "I'll take you home, Ada," he says.

"And I've got ya, Pol," Arthur agrees, accepting defeat.

Polly glances at you and Ada, smiling. "Such gentlemen, these two," she teases, already headed for Arthur.

"Come now, Henry," you turn to your husband. "Off we go."

He breathes a laugh, patting your hands on his chest. "If you insist."

You smile and walk toward John, who gives you a hug before he's leaving with Esme. Arthur wraps you up in a hug and lifts you off the floor just a slight. "Good night," he says. You repeat it back to him.

When you head toward Tommy, his arms are already opening to welcome you into a hug. His hug is tight and warm. It wraps around you like Arthur's but holds an intimacy you quickly become addicted to. It lasts a second too long before Tommy breaks it with a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Get home safe," he says, only glancing at Henry for a moment to convince him he's talking to the both of you.

You nod gently at him, staring at him too long. You wonder briefly if your baby will share his eyes. "You, as well, Tom Boy." You pat his chest and turn to Henry.

"Come on, husband," you smile at him, joining his side with an arm tucked behind his back. Henry starts walking you out the door as you wave behind you at everyone.

The night is dark as Henry helps you into the car, closing your door tightly before rounding to the other side to get in. It's as he's driving away that he speaks again, a hint of indignation in his tone diluted well with teasing. "I swear, sometimes the two of you don't feel like friends."

It feels like the tiny hairs along your arms prick at your skin then as you shrug and decide to play dumb. "Who?"

"You and Tommy," he glances at you.

You smile at him, offering a fond look as you take in the side of his face. For a moment, for a half of a second, you don't feel the bloom of affection you've grown accustomed to with your husband. For a half of a second, your mouth sours and your heart palpitates worriedly. You just brush it off and smile.

"Nonsense," you say as affectionately as you can. "If we weren't friends, what would we be?"

Henry shrugs heavily, his feigned teasing fading slightly into something more bitter. "I dunno," he sighs. "I just know I don't like it much."

You swallow thickly, turning from him again and staring out of the windshield. You sigh gently, brushing a hand over your belly and feeling your chest swell with fondness and anxiety.

"Don't worry, Henry, darling," you bid gently, hardly believing your own words as they leave your mouth, "no one's replacing you."

It's late as the lot of you pile into the theatre, big and bright and expensive. There's an opera tonight that you all have tickets to—Tommy wanted to spoil everyone and decided an opera was well-deserved.

When you take your seats, once again squished between Henry and Tommy, it only lasts a half hour before Tommy is standing and brushing past your row for a smoke. Without any way to make it less suspicious, you simply stand and walk off as well, following him away. Turning at the door to look over your shoulder, Henry hasn't even glanced your way.

The both of you walk out of the auditorium and through the halls where some patrons are still lingering about. As you step outside, the first thing you do is push him into the dark cover of night where you couldn't be seen by wandering eyes.

Tommy smirks, his chin tilted up as he looks down at you. "Isn't this a little suspicious?"

You shrug, placing your hands on his chest and sliding them up to cradle his neck. "He won't even notice I'm gone."

Without another word, you bring him down to your lips, eager to taste him again after not being able to for the past few days. Tommy is just as desperate at you, holding the back of your head and grasping your side as he backs you into the wall. No words are exchanged between the two of you. It's nothing but breath and stray moans as you devour one another.

By the time you pull away from him, you're breathless and warm and wanting. You smile, stroking a finger from cheek to chin. "I missed ya, Tommy."

He stares at you, his blue eyes piercing. When you don't look away, never wavering or blinking or fluttering, he smiles. You're one of the few people who can stand his intensity, and it warms his self-proclaimed dead heart.

"Aye," he breathes. He kisses you again before letting you go, pulling a cigarette from the inside of his coat. He drags it along his lips before setting it between them. You fish your lighter from your purse, flicking it to life and holding it under the end.

He puffs it a couple of times before he's offering it to you, knowing you would probably take it in a moment anyway. You turn it down, leaning against the wall and watching him. Neither of you speak, but the way he looks at you is so close to the way you look at him that you don't suppose either of you have to.

After a moment, he tilts his head. "What's on your mind, love?"

You mirror his tilt, "Nothing."

"Go on," he says, not believing you. "Tell me."

You shake your head with a gentle laugh, shrugging once. "Nothing serious, just a thought," you tell him. You glance down at your shoes. "What if I decided to have a kid?"

He lifts his brows, breathing in as he turns to face the street. "Finally giving Henry a child, eh?"

You breathe in deep, turning away as well. "Well, he is my husband, isn't he?"

That's right. He is your husband. So why isn't the baby his?

"What brought this on?" he asks, blowing out a smoky breath.

You toy with your fingers, brushing them over your belly tentatively. Your mind wanders briefly to earlier that evening, getting ready in front of the mirror and seeing the slight bump of your belly where your baby was growing. It stole your breath away. The only thing you wanted to do was run and tell Tommy, but now that you have the opportunity, you're suddenly worried.

You shrug and lie quickly, "All of John and Esme's, babysitting Karl when Ada's busy. Who knows, maybe the maternal instincts are finally kickin' in."

He hums. "You talked to Henry about it?" He says it almost expectantly, as if you have ever told Henry something before him.

"Eventually," you sigh. "He doesn't observe like you do, I suppose."

There's a moment of hesitance, an uncomfortable silence between the both of you as he thinks. "Well," he takes one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the damp ground and stamping it out, "I wish you and your hypothetical child luck."

He turns to you, offering his hand. "Until then, we should go back inside before they're missing us and await our next appointment," you take his hand, "Mrs. Reddoch."

You don't like the way he says it. It's as if he's reminding you that you have a husband you vowed your loyalty to. As if he isn't the man you've broken that vow with a hundred times over.

And not once have you regretted a single moment, but the guilt runs deep sometimes and his words do not comfort you.

Still, you pull a smile on and slip your hand into his elbow. "I'd be happy to oblige," you sigh. "Lead the way, Mr. Shelby."

He walks you back to the auditorium and down the few steps to your row where Henry looks up to see the both of you. You take your seats and offer a reassuring smile before turning your attention back to the stage where a ballroom dance is in full swing as a smooth tenor belts a romantic declaration.

Tommy's arm brushes yours on the armrest, and you glance at him. He doesn't look back, but you can see the tiny curve of his lips. You curl your pinky with his, turned away.

But then you feel Henry's hand on yours. You look at him fully, his gaze still fixated on the stage. You look down at his hand covering yours softly and smile, flipping your hand to hold his, intertwining your fingers. Removing your hand from Tommy's, you lean toward Henry as you rest your head on his shoulder. He smiles, glancing down at you and leaning his head on yours in return.

Tommy's grin is gone and his eyes are trained on the stage. He shouldn't be upset; Henry is your husband and you're considering starting a family with him. But with how long you've been Tommy's, how intimate the two of you have been again and again, he feels he has the right to be upset, even if that right is limited.

He doesn't look at you for the rest of the play, but you don't seem to notice. You nestle up to Henry the whole time, content.

When the play ends and everyone goes their separate ways, Tommy's goodbye is short. You wave to him as he walks out the door, but it's all you can do.

Henry takes you home, affectionate and loving and kind the whole time.

When you get there, he carries you up the stairs in his arms and lays you on the bed. He kisses you and strokes you and contains a softness you hadn't felt from him in a while.

But when he's rutting inside of you, the softness has completely dissipated and he becomes the desperate, rabid beast you're used to. He rips your clothes and grips you tightly, he sinks teeth into flesh and holds you down so you can hardly move.

You clench your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, taking it as he gives it and wishing he would return to the kindness he'd just offered you. His hand wraps around your throat and he squeezes.

When he's asleep beside you, a hand across your front as you stare up at the ceiling with damp eyes, you find yourself wishing for your best friend. You find yourself wishing to be in his bed, in his arms, with his baby in your belly.

But that won't happen—at least, not tonight. You look over at Henry's sleeping face (which still does not hold the warmth it once had before the war) and sigh, turning your body to face him as you try to cuddle close without waking him.

You close your eyes, inhaling his scent and wishing it was Tommy's, and lull yourself to sleep.

The next few days are confusing. When you're not working at the office, you're with the girls or Tommy or Henry.

Tommy's been sort of strange lately, dismissive one day and happy to be with you the next. Henry is as complicated as he always is, soft and caring one moment, rough and demanding the next.

You've spent your alone time trying to figure out how to tell them both about the baby growing inside of you.

You thought today would be the day.

The sun is shining and the breeze blowing in the wind is gentle and undisturbed. Debutante, your Morgan horse, walks slowly, the clip-clops of her hooves muffled by fields of grass next to Chance, Tommy's French Trotter.

Holding onto the reins as you ride front saddle—as you often refuse to ride side—you smile at Tommy.

Conversation has been scarce since you invited Tommy out for a ride. You missed him. You want to spend time with him, and you know this is one way he won't refuse.

"It's a wonderful day," you try, raising your brows with a smile as you tease him about the lack of conversation.

It takes him a moment to respond, but he does. "Yes, it is," he says.

You absent-mindedly pet Debbie behind her ear. "Was looking forward to it."

He sighs, glancing over at you with half a teasing expression. "Why? Are you looking for a quick fuck?"

You chuckle, although not comfortably. You feel like he's holding back from you and it's making you anxious. "Maybe," you kid. When he doesn't show any sign of amusement, you take it back. "Tommy, I'm joking. I just enjoy our time together, is all."

He practically cuts off the end of your sentence when he speaks again, his jaw slightly clenched and his eyes cold. "Do you love your husband?"

You blink, forcing a breath out of your lungs that sounds like a laugh as you shake your head. Pulling on the reins just enough, your horse stops. "What?" When he doesn't respond, although he eases his own horse to stop as well, you glance down at your hands and then back up at him. "He's my husband."

"That doesn't answer me question," he replies.

You steel your nerves and clear your throat, glancing up at him, though your eyes stop at his collar. "Of course I do."

He raises a brow. "Then why are you here with me?"

You are frustrated now, abandoning all attempts at dissolving the tension. "Maybe because I like being with the infamous Tommy Shelby." The sarcasm in your tone is not hidden, and you nearly find yourself speaking through clenched teeth.

"More than you like being with your own husband?" he inquires.

You're sick of him and you're going to push him off his horse. Not meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. "I don't know what you mean."

He nearly rolls his eyes. He knows you, and he knows that you know exactly what he means. You're a dirty liar, and he knows it all.

"Shouldn't you be spending time with him?" he clarifies. "Or did you just want to fuck again?"

The look you give him is not as offended as it is entirely unbelieving. You run your tongue along your teeth, scoffing through your scowl. You turn away and bid Debutante to walk. "Tommy," you offer an olive branch, a chance for him to step down, "you're acting strange."

He follows after you as he continues his verbal attack. You wish he hadn't—your fists are aching to make contact with his jaw. The distance the horses give you is the only thing preventing you from such violence.

Although you know you would never actually hit him, you don't have it in you. But what you won't do in physicality, you will do in words if he does not let up.

"Do you want him?"

It sounds like an accusation and you grit your teeth. "He's my husband," you repeat, almost sounding like a broken record. You sense Tommy's words before he says them and revise your response. "Of course I want him."

He hums, "I'd argue if you wanted him, you'd be with him right now."

You guide your horse to stop in front of his own, blocking his path at a cross and staring him down with wide eyes. "Careful, Thomas," you warn. "Someone might think you're jealous."

His face doesn't betray emotion and it's infuriating. You can always read him, always…but right now, you're finding that hard to do.

"I've no reason to be jealous," he says after a beat too long. It's a blow to your heart, and you don't know why.

"Oh, really?" you seethe. "You're not upset you've gotta share me with another man?"

He shifts his head to the side, and a hint of the frustration he's feeling seeps into his face for half a second. "Careful," he says, an echo of your own words before, "someone might think you just enjoy being a skank."

The look that crosses your face is something deeper than a scowl. With wide eyes and a mouth agape, you glare this man down with all the bitterness in your soul. It is silent for a while as you both process his words. When you break that silence, it's with a voice low and dangerous, teetering on the edge of murderous.

"What the fuck…did you just say to me?"

He's too proud to take it back, lifting his chin and staring you down like you are small compared to him. "Don't you?" he continues. "You'd rather stay with that bastard and fuck me on the side. Have him wonder where all those marks on your neck are coming from, eh?" He motions toward your neck, where you've got a scarf tied securely around to hide the bite marks in your skin from Henry's excitement.

You shake your head, your breath and heartbeat fast and unsteady. "Shut up, Thomas."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes," you urge. "As a matter of fact, you are." When he doesn't speak, you take it as your chance to add on. You take control of the reins, taking the few extra steps to sit next to him, completely facing him down as you fume.

"Maybe I'm here spending time with you because it's something I actually enjoy." you hiss, jabbing your finger into his chest before leaning back again with a sneer as you lick your bottom lip. "But, of course," you scoff, "that's hard to believe, seeing as you're Thomas fucking Shelby. Biggest arsehole in England."

He shakes his head. "No," he mutters. "Don't get angry with me because I reminded you of your husband's existence."

You burst. "D'you ever think I'm fucking angry because you called me a fucking skank, Peaky bastard?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't have to call you one if you had thought about being loyal."

You hate him. You fucking hate him. His expressions are nearly too emotionless to read, his tone doesn't match yours as you shout in your frustration. He is way too calm as he insults you time and time again, taking your argument like it's nothing, as if he isn't fazed in the slightest. It kills you, and you hate him.

You grit your teeth and try to calm yourself, clenching and unclenching your fists as you attempt to bring your voice down to no avail. "Might I remind you, you're the one I'm fucking behind my husband's back. If you didn't enjoy us, just fucking tell me instead of using your fancy language to insult me!"

By the end of your words, you're shouting and your voice breaks. You hate it, you hate him.

He raises a finger at you and betrays the first clear emotion you've seen on his face since the fight began. Rage.

"Don't you think for one moment I didn't enjoy us."

You groan so loud, it might as well be characterized as a scream with the way it tears at your throat. You slap your hand down on your thigh, wishing you were in a room with a hard surface that you could use instead of being mounted on a horse and too concerned with hurting her to properly portray your rage. "You're fucking ridiculous! You don't make any bloody sense, Thomas." You force a breath from your lungs and look him dead in the eyes. "Do you want me or not?"

He doesn't answer your question, and you hate him. "And what about your husband?"

You practically spit the words. "Fuck my husband."

"Fuck your husband?"

"Fuck him."

"So you don't love him." He states it as fact, and you hate him.

You pull back from him. There's nothing you could do or say that could properly portray the anger and frustration and betrayal you feel in this moment and you give up. You're not going to compromise anymore, you've just given up.

"You know what?" You let it spill. "Fuck you, Thomas." You let it all out. "I'm not going to waste anymore of my time arguing with you over… I don't even fucking know what we're arguing about. I wanted to spend time with you, and you decided to shame me for wanting you." You look up to try and blink away your tears but quickly decide you don't care. If they fall, they fall, and you're just lucky enough that they linger in your eyes a little longer. "God, I thought you were fucking different." You sniff and shake your head. "But you're just some fucking Peaky bastard."

He raises his brows, pointing at himself. "I'm a Peaky bastard?" Just like you, he lays it all out on the line, and he doesn't care if it hurts. He's cruel and uncaring and his voice is too level and too quietly enraged for any of the words he unleashes upon you.

"You've got no loyalty, no fucking self respect." His voice is low and rough. "You're a dirty whore and a goddamn liar, and you can shove all that love and want up your arse. You're nothing but a pathetic slut begging for attention."

It's completely silent. Neither of you speak, neither of you look away from the other. His eyes are wide with anger and his lips are pressed in a thin line. Yours are wide with shock, mouth ajar and trembling.

Your heart is unsteady in your chest, pounding quickly and roughly against your ribcage. After staring too long, you look down at your shaking hands, unable to hold his eye contact any longer as the tears blurring your vision finally spill down your cheeks. You swallow thickly, closing your lips and licking the salty tears off of them quickly.

There's a curling feeling in your chest that grows worse and worse with each passing second you spend under his scrutinizing gaze, and you brush your hand over your stomach as the feelings get even worse. You shake your head, biting down hard on your bottom lip as you breath out a slow, trembling breath.

When you speak, your voice is tremulous, broken up by tears and breath. You don't look at his face to see the layers of aggression peeling back at the sight of you so shattered.

"...I need space."

You linger for half a second before tutting gently to Debutante. She starts moving, taking off in a sprint at your command. Tommy turns to watch you leave, but he doesn't move, he doesn't call after you, he just lets you go. He lets you leave him behind.

And he hates it.

Clouds have gathered in the darkened sky by the time you get home, hours after your fallout with Tommy which you spent crying and trying to get a hold of yourself.

It was a lot to process: the insults, the betrayal, the anger, the sorrow, the rejection of you and your unborn son. Too much.

You unlock the front door of your house just as the first drops of rain begin to sprinkle down. "Henry?" you call, closing and locking the door behind you with a sigh. "Love, I'm home."

You hear his footsteps through the house and plaster a smile on your face to see him. You meet him halfway, walking into the living room and stopping when you see his fallen face.

"Where have you been?" he inquires. His arms are crossed over his chest and his stance is wide. He's undone his tie as it lays lazily across his shoulders. His hair is tousled just enough to notice, as though he'd run his hands through it a couple of times.

You straighten your spine and clasp your hands together in front of you. "I was just out with Thomas—Tommy."

He turns his head away, clenching his jaw and nodding. "Tommy," he repeats stiffly. He looks back at you. "You're always out with Tommy."

You nod once, slowly. "I am," you agree. You look away and then back at him, struggling to meet his gaze from the uncertainty of your own words. "He's… He's my best mate, of course I am."

He hums, his jaw ticking. "You don't think maybe your husband is supposed to be the one you're always with?"

You tilt your head, eyes darting unsteadily. "Am I not allowed to have friends?"

He takes a step toward you and you're consumed by gooseflesh. "I don't like how he looks at you."

You're defensive now, but it's less in defense of Tommy and your broken relationship and more of your wavering honor which has been violated enough today.

"What are you talking about? It's Tommy, he looks at me like a person should."

He raises his brows, not believing you. "And the way he touches you?"

You swallow, taking a breath before you can lose your posture again. You stand up a little straighter again, your gaze stuck on his shoes to avoid his cold gaze. "He's just a friend."

He shakes his head, frustrated and spent. "Stop lying to me."

You shake your own head, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. "I'm not lying. He's Tommy. He's just Thomas."

He walks closer and you tense every muscle on your body to keep from flinching as he wags his finger at you. "Then you need to remind him of that because the way you are with him, the way he is with you…nothing about that is friendly."

"Henry." You step forward, taking his face in your hands and massaging your thumbs over his cheeks. You linger there for a moment, smiling, though you can smell the lingering alcohol on his breath. "Henry, there is only you. It's just you."

You hope he believes you and you pray he leaves it alone because, if not, you're afraid of how he would react. You're afraid.

He grabs your wrist and you flinch, though he does not hurt you. Pulling your hands away, he leans forward. "Then you are not to see him anymore, not without me there."

You put your hands down and take a tiny step back. "Henry…"

"I'm not the jealous type," he continues, "but what's mine is fucking mine. Tommy can't have fucking everything!"

You flinch when he shouts, stepping away from him uneasily. You steady yourself again and shake your head, daring to look at him. "Henry," you're quiet, "you can't just say I can't see him anymore."

"Yes, I can," he says, his eyes wide and wild and terrifying. "I am your husband, you are my wife. You belong to me." His tone is becoming harsh and you're afraid.

You try to remain firm, but you're afraid. "I don't belong to anyone–"

It is your fault, you admit. You should not have spoken back to him like that, it was bound to provoke him. But you did, and you pay the consequences as he steps forward and takes a hold of your wrist. You wince and you whimper when he squeezes it in a vice grip, paralyzing.

"You're mine," he growls.

You can't stop the flow of tears on your face as the overwhelming emotions from before stack onto the ones you're feeling now. It's too much, you crumble.

"You're hurting me," you mewl.

He's terrifying, glaring and bruising you. He brings down his voice, but it's no less cutting as he snarls. "Are you fucking Thomas Shelby?"

You pale, "No, Henry."

He jerks you. "Swear it."

"I swear!"

He watches you, and you watch the anger worsen into a violent rage. "You lying whore!" He lets go of you roughly, and you hold your wrist in your hand.

He circles, jabbing his finger in your direction. "I should have known," he rages. "From the fucking beginning, I should have known."

Your voice is weak, tired from yelling all day and crying even more recently. You stare at your shoes. "I swear, Henry, we've never done anything."

He swings around, delivering a harsh slap to your cheek which jerks you to the side and trips you up. You fall, catching yourself on your knees. You're unsurprised, and all you do is hold your cheek.

He stands over you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you around to face him. He's livid and you're terrified, but you're unsurprised. He points at you again, making sure he's clearly heard.

"You are not allowed to see him anymore," he commands, his voice menacing. "I own you. Don't you ever forget that."

It's silent, and you stare at him with blurry tears in your eyes. "Henry, husband, please..." You swallow thickly. "I love you.

He shakes his head, "Shut your whore mouth. Don't you sit there and lie to me."

He reaches down and pulls you close to his face by the front of your shirt. He hoists you to your feet and you panic, in fear of what he will do.

"Wait! Henry, I'm pregnant!"

He lets go of you, stumbling backward. You stand on your feet, staying still for fear that he would still attack at any sudden movement.

He stares at you, his eyes wide with shock. You can't read anything past that and it scares you to death. It's so silent, you can now clearly make out the storm outside the house, thundering and pouring against the roof and windows.

"What?" It's the softest you'd heard him all night.

You sigh and splay your hand out over your abdomen. "I'm pregnant," you repeat, straining to smile. "Polly told me. I was trying to tell you, but I was so worried. I didn't know how to tell you. I'm sorry."

Henry stares at your face, then down to your hands. He swallows hard, walking back again. Then he shakes his head, staring at the floor. "No."

You blink. "What?"

He shakes his head again. "No. That's not…" He scoffs, raising a finger but dropping it, "You're not…"

You furrow your brows. "I'm pregnant," you say. You take a step forward, he takes one back. "You're going to be a father." He doesn't speak and you advance with slow steps. Your hands are shaking as you reach for his face, but you do it anyway. It takes a moment to make contact with him, and when you do, your hands jump.

You look him in the eyes. "Don't you want that?"

He stares at you, and for a moment you think maybe. Maybe there's hope. Maybe things would change. Maybe.

But then he shakes his head. "No."

Your breath hitches and shakes, "What?"

He grabs your wrists and jerks them away from him, and you wince again. He walks away, his back turned to you as he shakes his head again, leaning over the couch. "I don't want children."

You're past breathless. "Why… Why not? You don't want a baby with me?"

He turns to you, pointing and shaking his head, frantic. "I can't, I don't–"

"If you're scared, it's okay. It's okay, we'll get through it together."

He cuts you off, "I don't want a child!" He huffs, running a hand down his face. "This… That is not mine." He points at your stomach.

Your lips part and you huff. Your eyes burn. "But…" you mumble, "you married me. You said you wanted a family with me, you wanted to raise our children." Your jaw trembles and you're sick of crying.

He turns to you, his eyes hard. He's yelling again. "That was before the war. Things change. That child, that thing in your body, I don't want it."

You gape at him, your distress turning to rage. "What the fuck do you mean you don't want it?" You step forward and, in your frustration, you shove him back. "He's ours! Our son, our boy!"

He doesn't argue back, he turns and heads toward the small table in the living room where the telephone sat.

"What are you doing?"

"We're getting rid of it," he says flatly, his tone final. But you are not.

"The fuck we are!"

He turns on you quickly. He shouts louder than the crack of thunder outside and you jump. "You are not having that child! I will not have it."

You clench your fists. "How dare you?" you spit.

You step forward just to confront him again, but he's not going to take it. As soon as you step close to him, he shoves you back so hard, you fall to the ground and feel as though you've skinned your elbow trying to catch yourself.

His anger is explosive, as it always has been. His commands echo around the walls and vibrate in your bones. His hair is a mess, thrown all out of sorts with his sporadic movements.

"You will do as I fucking say! That child—yours, mine, Tommy fucking Shelby's—you are not having it. You belong to me, and I say what you can and cannot do." He kneels down in front of you, and you stare with wide eyes of fear and anger. He lowers his voice, back down to a menacing growl as he puts his face so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheeks as he speaks. He grips the front of your dress again, pulling you closer still. "How fucking dare you come into my house and try to put your hands on me?"

You're done yelling. You're done fighting. This is your baby, your son, and you will decide whether or not you keep him. He won't take it away, he can't.

"I hate you," you say. Your voice is so quiet, raspy from all the yelling and broken from the crying.

He lets go of you, standing up and looking down on you. "You never loved me."

You shake your head. "I did once… when you were kind." You lament the man you knew, but know that he is gone and he is never coming back.

He shakes his head, raising his brows. "You never loved me." His voice cracks at the end, but you refuse to feel guilty. You're done.

"You're a beast."

He licks his lips, tilting his chin up to increase his superiority. "And you're a whore who is not bringing a baby under my roof." He turns and walks back to the phone. "I'm calling a doctor to be rid of it."

The adrenaline that passes through your veins is too great for you to properly process what happens next until after it's already done.

You push yourself to your feet and reach for the stand next to the sofa, a drawer holding a gun. You pull the drawer open roughly, Henry hears, and moves just as quickly as you. You take the gun, but before you can secure it in your grip, he's knocking it out of your hands and kicking it away.

He moves to you next. Bending down, he wraps his hands around your throat and pushes you onto your back. He applies pressure, pressing his thumbs down onto your windpipe, and your head feels hot. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

You take hold of his arms, straining to get your words out. "Fuck you," you cough. "You're not hurting him."

The look in his eyes is the most terrifying look you had ever seen in your life. They seem to light up, and his scowl stresses into a cruel grin. He lets go of you, standing and straightening his spine as he stares you down through his nose again.

"The hard way then."

Unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves, Tommy walks down his stairs as he nears the front door of his home. It's late and thundering and he has no idea why anyone would need to speak to him so far into the night.

As he reaches the bottom step, removing the gun from a drawer beside the door, he stuffs it in his belt behind his back and stretches his neck to his shoulder. He sighs, long and exhausted and ready to go back upstairs and forget this day ever existed.

He's already speaking as he's pulling open the door. "Whoever it is, I'm sure this could wait 'til–"

He stops abruptly at the sight of you. You're shuddering, bracing yourself on the door frame and doubled over with a hand across your abdomen. All he can see is your hair as you hang your head low, breathing quick, shallow breaths that sound too strained for you to still be standing.

Your car is parked haphazardly in the drive, engine still running and lights still blaring bright onto your back.

"Fucking hell," he breathes.

You look up at him, and he takes you in. Your eyes are red and wet with your hair sticking to your face, which is smeared with blood. Your clothes are a mess, glued to your body from rain and more blood. You try to shift, but it's to no avail as you groan from the pain in your ankle. You've got blood on your lips and some dripping from under your dress and down your bare foot as well. You're not wearing shoes, he can imagine the scrapes on the soles of your feet.

You shiver, willing your lips to move so you can speak. Your words are barely coherent, run together by staggered breaths and stuttering teeth and tongue.

"I didn't know where else to go."

Tommy comes to his senses then, rushing forward into the rain without care and taking you into his arms. When he tries to help you walk and it fails, he dips down and carries you into the cover of his warm house in his arms. You bury your face in his chest, still trembling in his embrace.

He set you down on the couch, slowly and carefully, afraid to hurt you more. He pulls a pillow under your head as he lays you down slowly. You're still holding your stomach, and being this close lets him see that your arm is broken. Looking down at your leg, so is your ankle. You whimper meekly, unable to keep in your pained sounds.

Tommy tilts your chin up just enough to get a better look at your face in this lighting. He delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by your mouth, saying nothing as he examines it. After a brief pause, your heart skips a nervous beat as he looks you dead in the eyes. His voice is quiet and tense, his anger barely restrained as flares of anger bubble within him and he clenches his jaw.

"Who did this to you?"

His words are dangerous, made of ice and fire, a growled threat that does not translate in your head.

A tiny, pathetic sound slips from your lips as you curl into yourself. "It hurts." Your voice is so small, it tears his heart in two and thaws it just enough to set his anger to the side for long enough to comfort you.

Tommy isn't used to seeing you so weak. You've always been too strong, tough and sarcastic with too much wit and too much bite.

Now you're lying on his couch, trembling and sobbing into the cushions, covered in blood and rain.

He strokes his hand down the side of your face, moving hair from your forehead and grazing his fingers over your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the feeling of his hand, but it somehow makes you cry harder. "Tell me where it hurts," he says, his voice softening with each second spent watching you.

You just clench your stomach, your face squishing in sorrow. He moves his hand down to rest on your side, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand. There's no sign of a wound on your stomach, no pooling blood or shred in your dress where you grasp.

"He took it all away," you sob, though it doesn’t quite reach as deeply in your soul as you need it to, to process and understand the depths of which this pains you to admit. Because he took it all away, and he can never give it back.

Tommy stiffens, looking at you as he tries to understand. "What are you saying?"

You open your eyes, staring at his face and reaching toward him with the hand not injured. Your fingertips graze his cheeks and your breath shudders. You swallow hard, pulling your hand away to clench it tightly before slamming it into the couch.

"Our son."

Tommy stills completely, staring at you in utter shock and disbelief. The way you break down on the words, hoarse—nearly silent—cries pulling from your throat and pouring out all over the place makes his heart stutter. You repeat it under your breath, reaching out and taking Tommy's hand, grasping it tight. "Our son."

"What?" he mutters.

A sorrowful smile creeps onto your lips, a terrible mix of agony for the baby you've lost and remembrance of what you could have had. "I was gonna have a baby, Tom," you cry. "'A Shelby baby,' Polly said. A boy."

He looks down at your belly again with a new consideration, moving his hand down to feel you with breath caught in his throat. "You're pregnant?" he asks.

Your mournful grin fades and you bury the top half of your face in the pillow beneath your head. Shaking your head, you gasp and hiccup on a sob.

"He took it all away."

Lighting his cigarette, Henry ventures into the living room. He stretches his arms out, releasing the tense muscles in his back from sleeping last night. He sighs as he travels to the window. When he pulls open the curtains and turns around, he startles and has half a mind to reach for his gun. But upon realizing who it is, he huffs a sigh and shakes his head.

“Jesus, Tommy,” he rolls his eyes, looking back at the man sitting on his sofa.

Tommy leans back against the chair, a cigarette between his own lips as he says nothing. He stares at Henry, still and emotionless. Henry sighs, placing his hands in his pockets. “Have you seen my wife?” he turns to the cabinet holding his liquor to pour himself a glass, regardless of the hour. “She left last night, hasn’t been back.”

Tommy doesn’t move for another moment before finally breathing in slowly. He reaches up and takes the cigarette between his fingers, taking one last drag before putting it out against the coffee table. "Last night," he sighs and points the cigarette at him, "your wife came to me house, soaked from the rain with blood on her clothes. Could barely stand."

He flicks it away, folding his hands over his lap and crossing his legs. He tilts his head, watching Henry closely. "'It hurts,' she told me. 'He took it all away'." He looks down at his lap, remembering your pitiful face, and then back up at him.

Henry doesn't speak, his face fallen in solemnity as he doesn't even pretend to not know what Tommy's talking about. He doesn't even have the decency to pretend to be concerned.

Tommy inclines his head, furrowing his brows just a little as he takes him in. A long moment of silence passes between them before he fills it again. "She was pregnant. 'A Shelby baby,' she said."

Henry shows the first signs of emotion then, scowling as he shakes his head and scoffs. "Fucking knew it," he snarls.

Tommy pulls his gun from the inside of his jacket, toying with it in his hands as if it's nothing as he looks down at it. Henry reaches for his own, but realizes quickly that it's gone. He doesn't have one of his person and the one on the side table has since been removed.

Even with the gun in his hands, Tommy's face hasn't changed. He looks calm, too calm. Even as he stands, moving slowly and with steps so small, it's a wonder how he'll ever reach Henry, who stiffens and clenches his jaw as he recognizes his shortcomings.

"We've been good friends a long time, Henry," he continues, stroking his hand over the barrel. "A long time. War time."

Henry sniffs, still scowling as his hard gaze stays glued to Tommy. "Yeah, well," he licks his bottom lip, "friends don't sleep with each other's wives."

Tommy cocks the gun, but still doesn't point it. The sound alone is enough to shut Henry up either way, so it doesn't matter. "But she and I have been friends for much longer," he says. He finally looks at him again, his eyes cold and piercing. He stops in front of him, his chin tilted up to show he stills holds power over him.

"You see," he says, "She's my girl, always has been. She was going to have a baby, a Shelby boy, my boy." His breath picks up a little, the frustration and anger rising within his chest as he looks at the man who took so much from him.

"Tommy," Henry says quietly, as if there was anything he could say or do to save his life right then and there.

Tommy motions to him with his gun. "You hurt her."

"She shouldn't have hurt me!" Henry shouts, his voice cracking at the end in rage.

Tommy raises the gun so quickly, Henry hardly had time to process it. He presses the end to his temple, watching Henry's eye twitch at the fact that Tommy could pull the trigger at any moment and blow the brains from his head.

Tommy's voice, still quiet and dangerous, is no longer as patient as he speaks down to him. "You beat my child out of her womb." He huffs, "You murdered him and almost took her with him."

Henry, despite the barrel to his skull, retaliates. "I should have taken her with it."

Tommy shouts, moving the gun from Henry's head and pointing it to his own, pressing it against his temple roughly. He shouts at the top of his voice, which is rough and cracks a little at the exclamation born of pain and rage. "It was my fucking son!"

Frightened by his behavior, Henry trembles as he holds his hands up in useless surrender, shaking his head and forcing the words from his throat. "She's my wife," he says. "She loves me."

Tommy puts the gun back to his head, watching Henry cower with heavy breath and shaky hands. He rolls his head back, staring up at the ceiling and closing his eyes.

He looks back at him, clenching his jaw once before deciding not to prolong this long away justice anymore. He shakes his head, "I love her more."

Bang!

He doesn't flinch when the warm, sticky blood splatters on his pale face. Henry's body drops to the floor, blood seeping out and soaking the carpet.

Tommy let his arm drop, letting the gun fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. He sighs.

"'He took it all away,' she said."

The feeling of consciousness washes over you in an unpleasant way, and you immediately miss the cover of sleep as you take in a lethargic breath. Your eyes flutter as you struggle to get them to open, wincing at the bright, pale light invading your senses as you slowly come to.

Once in touch with your body, you turn your head to the side and groan at the discomfort of the single movement. You can barely open your eyelids enough to see. They're so heavy, it's almost as if they're glued down by your lashes to your cheeks. You see a sliver of being from where your vision allows, a man in a suit, expensive.

You hum. Your voice is hoarse, both from sleep and the soreness that resides there. "Tommy…" you mumble intelligibly.

"Not quite." The coarseness of Arthur's voice reminds, though still muffled with exhaustion, fills your ears.

His large hands move slowly to grasp your own, taking it so gently, you almost think you imagined it. You take a deep breath in, as deep as you lungs allow without reminding you of the same reason your voice is sore. You smile softly, "Arthur."

Finally able to open your eyes, slowly but surely adjusting to the light, you look at him smile at you. There's a sluggishness in his eyes that makes your chest ache, but you dismiss it as soon as he speaks. "Hello, love," he greets in a low, gentle tone. "How are you feelin'?"

You groan, shrugging—although, you're pretty certain you didn't move an inch. "What happened?"

Arthur shifts, clearing his throat. Your vision clears as you look at him. He’s disheveled, messy hair, messy clothes. You furrow your brow, watching him decide how to respond. “You went to Tommy last night. He said you…” He clears his throat again, glancing around the room just to not have to look you in the eyes as he says it, “...you were pregnant.”

It hits you like a train, the memories of the night before flooding your mind and filling you with the dread you had greeted Tommy with before. Your throat closes up and your lips tremble. You feel as though the walls are caving in, like the world has stopped revolving as the tears prick at your eyes and threaten to well. You look away from Arthur, staring up at the ceiling and trying to blink the tears away before they can form, but it’s of no use.

You try to lift your arm to cover your face, only to groan when the pain there blossoms and shocks through your body like fire. Arthur grabs your hand again, still holding it in an attempt to soothe you. He glances away still, as though he is trying to contain his own tears.

None of the Shelby boys were used to seeing you cry, seeing you so low and pained. His lashes clump together as he blinks too quickly, struggling to watch you suffer like this.

You inhale sharply, swallowing hard. “Where’s Tommy?” you ask on a shaky breath, looking around. You try to sit up, but Arthur doesn’t let you, gently pushing you back down as soon as you wince and groan at the pain spiking all over your body.

“He’s on his way,” Arthur insists, laying you back down. He goes to softly pat your shoulder, but rethinks his decision as soon as he lifts his hand. “Had to take care of business.”

You look at him, sighing shakily. You lick your dry lips. “Business,” you repeat knowingly.

Arthur nods slowly, looking back and forth from your eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “Business.”

You nod back, staring at the sterile whiteness of the ceiling with eyes beginning to blur. You clear your throat weakly, upset when your voice still comes out strained. “Can I…have the room, please?”

Arthur shakes his head quickly, refusing to be swayed. “Tom said not to let you leave my sight.” He says it finally, nodding his head to set his words in stone.

“Arthur, please,” you insist, looking at him. A tear slips down your cheek, disappearing into your hair as you stare at him. His stony resolve crumbles when you look at him like that and he looks away from you. He clears his throat, standing and shifting back and forth on his legs before motioning toward the door.

“I’ll be outside,” he informs awkwardly.

“Thank you,” you nod.

“Yeah.”

He disappears out of the door, and you let the tears fall. They stream down your face with an urgency they don’t need, hasty in their quests to wet your cheeks. You try to keep quiet, which only makes your throat burn more with the pain your silent cries hold.

You don’t know how long you cry for. You just know that, by the time that door opens again, all of your tears have dried up, leaving you feeling numb and cold. You turn your head to the door as it opens, half expecting for Arthur to come back in.

When you see Tommy, you feel as though you could spare a few tears in celebration of his return. But instead, you just stare at him and breathe in slowly.

He’s happy to see you, though he doesn’t show it nearly as much as it seems he would like to. His eyes clear some of the worry he feels when he lays them on you, and he closes the door back behind him. He doesn't move toward you, offering a small smile. “You’re awake,” he points out uselessly, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You killed him?”

Tommy's smile falters, returning to the solemn look you know well. He sighs, very quiet and unassuming, and nods his head with tiny movements. “I did,” he says plainly. He examines your face, noting the lack of change at the confession as you continue to stare. “How do you feel about that?”

It takes a moment to respond because you have to think about it, taking a moment to mull over the details—vague and unimportant details. “I dunno yet,” you say after a long while, continuing to watch Tommy, as though he’d disappear and leave you alone forever if you looked away.

Tommy nods, looking down at his dark shoes. He removes his hands from his pockets, sitting down on the chair next to the door. He’s too far away, way too far away. You shift your head, moving the hand closest to him to face palm up. “Please come here,” you bid softly, desperately.

He stands without fuss, making his way over to you and sitting on the chair Arthur had once occupied. It’s silent when he settles. There’s no shift of his clothes from moving, there’s no tick of some clock in the room, there’s no bird outside the window. Just silence.

You look down at yourself, in the bed with the covers pulled up to your chest. You shake your head, hating the way you feel—vulnerable and useless. You sigh, moving to sit up. “I’m still laying in this bed,” you ramble, pushing covers off of you. “Why am I laying in this bed? I don’t want to lay down.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth as you try to sit up, closing your eyes shut. Tommy moves, shaking his head as he tries to keep you laying under the sheets. “Don’t try to move. You’ll hurt yourself,” he tells you, a warm hand on the junction of your neck and shoulder and a warm hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You lay back, ignoring the pain as you bring your palms to your face, rubbing them into your eyes as you groan frustratedly in retaliation. “I’m fine,” you insist, looking at him again with blurry eyes.

He leans in close. “You’re a liar.”

“I have to be with you.”

The repeated words from days ago hit him in a different way as you say them now, staring at him with glossy eyes and shaking hands. He tilts his chin up, sighing to himself. You have to lie when you’re with him. You’ve been lying for years, he supposes.

Tommy clenches his jaw, letting the words sink in as he blinks away from you. His eyes fall back on you after a moment too long. “Why did you never tell me?”

You swallow hard, looking away. “It wasn’t your burden to bear.”

“Don’t give me that.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head as he says it, stopping himself with another steadying sigh. He opens his eyes and stares at you, at the cuts and bruises on your face, your chest, your arms. He remembers the blood you were soaked in when you came to him last night, the way you could hardly stand, the way you clenched your stomach and sobbed into his chest as he carried you inside. He stifles the tears in his eyes.

“What did he do to you?”

You don’t look at him yet, grounding yourself before you threw yourself into an explanation that was bound to make you want to cry. You lick your bottom lip, tasting the coppery taste of your split lip in the process. You breathe in slowly, exhale slowly, flex your fingers and blink your eyes. Stalling. Just stalling.

But you had to explain. He had to understand.

You only glance at him and shrug, struggling to find your voice but using it well when you did. “The war changed all you boys.” Tommy stares at you, not once backing down as his eyes begged to hear what you had to say, to hear what forced you to stay silent all these years. “You came back, heart of stone. Danny lost his mind… Henry became rough.”

You swallow hard at the word and Tommy understands what you mean. Your words from so many mornings before echo in his mind.

"You're not the only man who's rough in bed, Tommy Boy.”

He sighs. You continue. “It was only then, really. A little too hard here, too rough there. If he was frustrated, he held on a little too tight.” You close your eyes, trying to push the memories down. Opening your mouth to speak, the words won’t come out even as you form them. You clear your throat, shaking your head to clear your mind. “If he was beating me bloody every day, I’d have killed him myself. But I didn’t. ‘Cause he wasn’t. He was mostly kind. But he was hurt, the war caught up to him and followed him home.”

You look at Tommy finally, your eyes pained. “The war changed all you boys.”

Tommy processes everything, looking down to his lap and trying not to draw attention to the way he wiped at his teary eyes. He sniffs when he looks back up, rubbing his nose and slowly finding your eyes again. “You should have told me,” he says. It’s almost a reprimand, upset that he could have helped you from the beginning, had you told him.

You shake your head, chuckling as you slowly smile. At least he’s concerned, even if you don’t want him to be, even if you never wanted him to be—the reason you’d never told him in the first place. Tommy has enough to worry about.

“I was fine.” Your laugh is watery, and you wheeze a little at the pain in your chest with each contraction of your lungs. “I had you.” You reach out and touch his face, placing your palm on his cheek and stroking your thumb over his sharp cheekbones.

He stares at you a moment, his face still fallen with dismay. He reaches up and takes your hand from his face, only to hold it between both his large ones and squeeze gently, as if he’s reassuring yourself that you are here and safe. He leans forward, resting his forehead on your joined hands and closing his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a long, slow sigh.

You lean forward as well, moving slowly to disturb your healing body as little as possible. You set your head on his, resting your cheek in his dark hair. “You’re a Peaky bastard, Tom, but you’re my Peaky bastard.”

You both stay like that for a while, enjoying the other’s peace with closed eyes and steady breaths. He lifts his head, which shifts your head away so he can look at you. “You were wrong before,” he says.

You raise a brow, “About?”

He shakes his head, his eyes darting all over your face, from your own eyes to your lips to the cut on your brow. “I’m not jealous,” he tells you. He reaches one hand up, moving some hair from your forehead. “I can’t be jealous about something that’s already mine.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “What about my husband?” you test.

Again, he shakes his head. “Fuck your husband.”

“Fuck my husband?”

“Fuck him.”

Tommy brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, his thumbs brushing the skin. “You’re mine,” he says definitely.

The corners of your lips turn up a little, disappearing just as fast as it appeared. “Funny,” you comment. “That’s what he said.”

Tommy raises a brow. “And?”

You shrug lazily. “And when he said it, I wanted to kill him. When you say it…” You smile just a little bit, “When you say it, I just want to kiss you pretty.”

Without another moment to spare, Tommy sets a hand on your cheek and brings you forward as he leans into you. His lips press against yours, and it feels like the first time. You sigh against the feeling of his mouth on yours, lifting your hand to brush your knuckles against his jaw line. A tingle makes its way through your body, starting from your lips and rushing down your spine.

You twist your body to lean in closer, wanting more of his kiss than was physically possible. As you try to sit up, your belly burns and you groan, reluctantly pulling away from him. You place a hand over your abdomen, your face screwing up with the pain you feel.

“Careful,” Tommy says with his kiss-tingled lips. He sets his hand over yours, resting on your belly with a reassuring warmth. His other hand holds the back of your neck securely, supporting you as best as he can.

He watches the physical pain turn into a deeper, more emotional one as your lips tremble. Your breath shudders as you inhale, shaking your head and huffing as the smallest squeak forces its way from your throat in your effort to stifle your sob.

“I want him back, Tommy.”

He rests his forehead against yours, holding you to him as he closes his eyes and nods. He turns his head and brings your face to the crook of his neck, where you bury yourself and cry into his shoulder. “Don’t you worry, love,” he says in that deep, rumbling voice of his. “Everything will be alright. I promise you.”

“Would you have wanted him?”

Your words startle him as he pulls away, still holding you as he strokes his thumb over your cheek and stares at your tear-stained face. The fact that you needed to ask that question hurt him. It pained him beyond imagination that you should be laying here in a hospital bed covered in cuts and bruises made by your own husband who was cruel and selfish enough to destroy your unborn child, a child that was never even his to hurt to begin with.

Tommy finally nods, holding you close and assuring you with everything that he had. “I wanted him,” he promises, speaking slowly. “I want him and you and us.”

You smile a trembling grin, breath shuddering as you put your head against his forehead again. “I love you, Tommy,” you confess, sighing so heavily with the emotion you couldn’t contain. “I loved you for years.”

He kisses you again, holding you close and keeping you closer. You sigh against his lips and continue to ache for him, as you have done for years.

“One day, soon enough,” he’s breathless as he speaks, “I will make you my wife. I will make you a mother. We’ll have a family, you and me. ‘Cause I love ya back.”

You smile, holding on tight. “You promise? ‘Cause I’ll shoot you if you’re kidding.”

He laughs lightly, kissing you quickly once more. “I promise. You and me.”

And, months later, his promise came true.

The time following the incident was hard. You felt sick for a while, physically and emotionally drained and overworked. But Tommy was there, and he helped you. There was not one point in time where he wasn’t pulling you back, easing you when you needed easing, boosting you up when you needed boosting. It was as you always dreamed it would be on quiet nights next to your late when you allowed yourself to think about that forbidden life with Tommy.

He helped you heal, and it was the only thing you could have ever asked of him. He made you happy.

And he still makes you happy as he carries you in his arms, kicking open the door to the dimly lit room, his lips already on yours as he pushes the door closed behind him with his foot. You separate from him with a smile so wide, your face feels like it will split in two.

You open your mouth to say something, laughing in the middle of it before he cuts you off by dropping you onto the plush bed. You bounce at the impact, laughing a little harder as you readjust to look up at him. “Careful, before you rip the dress!”

Tommy scoffs carelessly, “As great as you look in white, I could care less about whether or not you wear it, love.” His body leans over you, nearly crushing you with his weight as he kisses you again. You don’t mind, wrapping your legs around his waist as the dress rides up to rest around your hips.

His lips slide against yours, on the border of sloppy. He moves from them to trail fond kisses along your jawline, wasting no time in getting to your neck to pepper you in more kisses and litter you in his possessive markings. You hum, holding him to you with gentle sighs as you run your fingers through his hair. As he busies himself with your neck, you admire the gold reflection of the ring on your finger, shining in the light and reminding you that he is now just as much yours and you are his.

“Are you going to stare at that ring all night, or are you going to kiss me, woman?” He smiles at you, one hand in your hair to take it down, pin by pin.

“When you finish taking my hair down, I’ll kiss you again.”

He laughs and continues doing so. You watch him as he works, staring at his long lashes kissing his sharp cheekbones, his pale blue eyes blinking at you, his lips swollen with kisses. He finishes way faster than you thought he would, running his hands through your hair and then holding you by the back of your head.

“I believe you owe me a kiss now.”

You giggle, already leaning toward him. “You’re pathetic.” With your lips back on his, he devours you once again with his lust for your love. When his knee brushes between your legs, pressing against the warm valley of your thighs, you sigh into his mouth.

“Strip me, Tommy,” you tell him, undoing his tie at the same time. He complies, pulling you up to gain better access to the million buttons of your dress so he can take it off you. He slips it down your body, revealing more and more skin with each inch he sheds off you. You’re pulling clothes off him like they’re dangerous, stripping him down article by article until he’s just as bare as you are.

Pushing you back down onto the bed, you smile up at him as he grips your thighs and pushes them up your body, opening you up for him in the way that makes his cock hard and stiff with an unrivaled lust. “Look at that,” he grunts. “Always so perfect for me.”

You hum at his praise, your thighs quivering with anticipation. His hands stroke your skin, feeling every inch you have to offer as your eyes flutter shut and take the praise. The sensations are magnificent, like fire through your veins as you burn for him. He bends down, kissing and nipping at your collarbones and moving down, down, down as he passes your breasts, your belly, your perfect hips.

His mouth is warm against your pussy as the tip of his tongue darts out to taste your skin. When he pulls back, his hot breath blows against your aching folds and you squirm in response to him. Your legs fall onto his shoulders as he grips your sides, stroking his thumbs over your skin fondly. “What does my girl want, eh?” he asks, teasing you with his words as he shifts his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, not close enough to where you need him.

You’re already breathless as you gaze at him, in love with the sight of his head between your legs as you imprint it into your mind. “You,” you breathe, smiling for him.

“What about me?” He’s going to drive you mad before the end of the night. The way he continues to kiss your thighs, to hold your pleasure over your head all because he can, is enough to send you over the edge of sanity.

“Fuck, Tom, I want you to make me cum with your tongue,” you spill, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling. The gentle plea that escapes from your lips is so small and pathetic, he has no choice but to give into your desires. “Please.”

He smiles at you with dark eyes, “Since you asked so nicely.”

And then he’s all over you. Your mouth drops open and your eyes squeeze shut as he devours you, shoving his tongue deep into your pussy like you possess the sweetest of wines. He grunts into you when you pull on his hair again, a rougher tug than last time. He has to hold your hips down when you try to buck up to his face. You curse under your breath, moaning his name in the way that makes him weak.

His tongue plunges inside of your pussy and you melt, biting down on your lip so hard, you taste copper. “Fuck, Tom,” you gasp. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He’s drunk on the taste of you, and there was no way on this Earth that you would ever get him to stop. One of his hands leaves your waist to stroke your thigh before joining his tongue, shoving one thick finger into your hole and curling it as he massages it in and out of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he adds a second, his tongue flicking at your clit and driving you to the bitter end of your release.

Your curses multiply on your tongue, the occasional profanity turning into a string of the same word as he pulls you closer and closer to that explosive feeling gathering in the pit of your stomach.

It’s not long before it becomes too much to bear, and you clench around his fingers and tongue as he sucks on your clit like fucking candy. “Fuck, I’m so close,” you sigh, your voice high and pitchy with lust. “I’m gonna cum, Tommy. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Rather than respond, he groans deep in his throat and sucks harder on your clit, moving his fingers faster, even after his arm begins to hurt. Just teetering on the edge of your release, he licks a long, languid stripe up your cunt and commands you with black eyes. “Cum for me, love.”

A gasp fills your lungs to the fullest, and you’re a mess as you moan for him. He continues to pump his fingers into you, his tongue lapping you up as you continue to tremble, sucking in his fingers. Your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire. Tommy lets out a strangle breath when you tug on his hair again.

He eases you down from your high with his tongue. He pulls his fingers out of you, licking your wetness from each digit with special attention to each one. He ducks back down to lick up the rest of your arousal as well, making sure to collect every drop. He wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste…

His hands glide over your body as he leans up again, towering over you to kiss your swollen lips. “You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers against your lips. “My perfect fucking girl, my perfect wife.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling against his lips. “My perfect husband,” you fawn. You surprise him when you flip the both of you so he’s on his back. “My perfect,” you venture down his body, your lips grazing his skin as you stop at his hips, “fucking husband.” You set a kiss on his right hip and he just smiles down at you, sitting up so he’s leaned back against the headboard.

He watches you with keen eyes, grabbing his jacket from the floor and pulling his lighter and cigarette box. You take the lighter from him—as you always do, whether he’s watching or not—and light it after he’s set it between his lips. You lean against his knee the whole time, stroking a free hand up and down his thigh.

“Go on,” he motions as the smoke gathers in the air. “Go on and give me a show.”

You lick your lips, smiling mischievously as you shift farther down. You take his erect cock in your hand, watching his eyes flutter at the feeling of you. You stroke him gingerly with your fingertips, teasing him as he had teased you. Though he looks dazed, he doesn’t appreciate it as much as he tuts and shakes his head at you.

Your smile widens and he tilts his head in warning. You think for a moment about whether or not you’ll listen to him before deciding the throbbing between your legs will be satisfied quicker if you do. You wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking your thumb over the tip and leaning down to lick the little bead of precum before it spills over. He sighs at the feeling of your tongue.

You pull your hand away, licking from your palm to your fingertips before taking his cock again and pumping it in your hand in a steady rhythm up and down, from base to tip and back again. You hold his eye contact the whole time, adoring the heat of his gaze as you lay between his legs.

You shift his cock as you lean forward again, licking the underside of it with your hot tongue and paying special attention to the bulging vein there. You lavish your tongue over the sensitive spot, humming gently as you kiss his tip and coating his cock in your spit. Kissing his tip again, you let it part your lips as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him and tasting the beads of arousal slowly dripping out.

You take him farther into your mouth, bobbing your head to allow him deeper and deeper with skilled movements. Tommy lays his head back, closing his eyes as he allows himself to give in to your pleasure. He reaches down with his free hand to cup the side of your neck, stroking your cheek until he resolves to tangling his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t pull or push or guide you in any way, just holds onto you as you work, grunting when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. He feels your throat constrict momentarily, a tiny gag making its way out of you that you quickly suppress to take the rest of him down.

“That’s a good girl,” Tommy sighs, opening his eyes to watch you bob your head up and down his shaft with an efficiency he’s proud to say he’s helped you gain. When you take him all the way down, lingering there for as long as you can with your nose pressed to his pelvis and the very tip of your tongue darting out to tease his heavy balls, his breath stutters in his throat.

You pull off for air after a moment, gasping as you blink away the tears that have gathered at the corner of your eyes. When you move to go back down on him, he just holds you by your hair to keep you up. “That’s quite enough, sweetheart.” You look at him with a slight pout, darting your tongue out to kitten lick the tip. He takes a moment to adore your sweet face before he’s pulling you up by your chin, leading you to his lips.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips to kiss you. You indulge in the kiss before pulling away to grab the cigarette, taking it between your lips and inhaling deeply. You lean in for another kiss, pushing the smoke into his parted mouth. The remaining smoke billows from your nose when you pull away, and you watch more seep from his precious lips as he stares at you.

He leans forward, his lips hovering over your as he speaks gently. “I’m going to fuck your brains out now.” You shudder at his promise, though he doesn’t give you much time to react as he grabs you by your hips and lifts you up onto his lap. “But first, I want to see you do some more work.”

You’re more than happy to do it, too, as you stroke his cock in your hand, hovering over his lap with trembling thighs and holding the cigarette between two fingers in your free hand. “Whatever you wish, sir,” you sigh, swearing his eyes get darker as soon as the word leaves your mouth.

He loses his patience as you line him up with your slick pussy, feeling the head of his cock part your warm lips. He decides to take matters into his own hands, grabbing your waist and pushing you down onto his cock, watching the way your head falls and your mouth drops open as you gasp a moan.

You grind your hips down on him, drunk on the feeling of his thick cock dragging along your walls, which clench around him and flutter when met with the pleasure you were expecting. You set the cigarette between your lips as you sit up to look at him again, hands on his shoulders to steady you as you savor the burn of his cock stretching you out.

“Fuck,” you curse around it, “feels so good.”

Tommy takes the cigarette from you, setting it back into his own mouth. “Go on, wife,” he bids you, placing his hands back on your waist and gripping tightly. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

And you are more than happy to oblige as you lift yourself slowly off his lap, dropping back down before he can slip out of you and grunting roughly at the pleasure that blooms there. “Mm, Tommy,” you moan, already gasping for breath as you do it again, and again, and again.

He blinks long and slow at the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him. “Always so fucking tight for me,” he grunts, rutting into you once.

You ride his cock, swiveling and rocking your hips back and forth, needing to take him deeper and deeper inside of your tight pussy as you ache for him all over. Tommy watches you, groaning with you as your face squints in pleasure. Your tits bounce in his face with each movement of your hips, and eventually he just decides to set his cigarette aside to take your nipple between his lips.

His tongue massages it, sending shockwaves down your spine that has your moans turning to desperate cries. You drop your weight into his lap and grind down on his cock when his teeth graze it. Your moan breaks off into a broken whimper as you pull him closer, hugging him to your body and dropping your head into his shoulder.

That seems to be his breaking point as he grabs you and maneuvers the both of you onto your back. He pulls your legs up and over his shoulders, folding you in half when he leans forward to press his forehead against yours. He breathes hard as he stares at you, your eyes locked, though yours are hooded with pleasure. “You’re fucking mine,” he says, “and no one else can have you.”

You nod, trying to buck your hips to get him to move as he remains still inside of you, fully seated. He shakes his head at you, “No. I want to hear you say it.”

You whimper, holding him by his face. “I’m yours,” you promise. “Fuck, no one else can have me. No one, Tommy. Only you.”

He grins at your rambling, kissing your lips roughly, messily, before interrupting the union with the rough thrust of his hips. You gasp, breaking off into a moan as he does it again. He pace slowly builds until he rutting inside of you like a madman, possessive promises and declarations filling your ears as he watches you writhe in the pleasure he fucks into your body.

Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, spilling over the side and disappearing into your hair as he fucks into you. The pleasure is so great, it’s hard to keep in your moans. When you purse your lips in an attempt to, he shakes his head quickly. “No, don’t do that. I want to hear you scream for me. Tell me how much you love it. Look at me and tell me.”

The beginning of your words comes out as a sob as you force your eyes open to see him. The pleasure seizes your throat and makes it hard to form the words. “Fuck, so good, Tommy. Please don’t stop, please.” Tommy’s eyes flutter at your spilled words, and he thrusts into you harder, his hips snapping roughly.

“You like when I fuck you like this?” he asks, his voice dark and rough. “You like to feel my cock fuck you nice and deep?”

Your moans are just sobs at this point, the pleasure too great for you to keep it together anymore. “Yes, sir! Fuck, Thomas, yes. Don’t stop.”

Your eyes close from all the sensations mixing like a cocktail inside of you, but he’s not having it. “Open your eyes,” he commands, stroking your cheek. You obey him, though it takes a little longer than he would have liked. “Look at you, my beautiful girl. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You clench around him and he grunts, thrusting harder. “I’m gonna fucking take care of you,” he repeats, holding one of your hips down and angling you to thrust deeper. You gasp at the feeling, letting the pleasure spread. “I’m gonna fill you up and make you a fucking mother. You’re gonna have my child in that womb of yours. You’ll look good and round, full of my fucking baby. Do you want that?”

You nod quickly. Your legs are sore from this position and you’re losing feeling in your toes, but it’s nothing compared to the fire of lust consuming you in his flames. You let it devour you as you clench and whine on his cock, taking every single thrust he gives you. “Yes, sir, I want that. I want it so bad.”

He’s so close to spilling inside of you, fulfilling that dream the both of you had held for a long time now. He’s right there, ready to release it all inside of you. But he wants you to cum with him, he wants you to feel the pleasure of release together as he reaches between your bodies and begins circling your clit with deft fingers. “That’s a good girl,” he praises. “I’m gonna fill you up until it’s all leaking out.”

“I’m so close,” you sigh, your breath shuddering in your throat. “I’m gonna cum, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” You nod quickly, holding him tighter in a warm embrace. Tommy’s hips stutter as he nods, looking you dead in the eye as he speaks. “Cum for me, wife.”

And you do, with his name on your tongue and a shout on your lips, you cum loud and hard. Your cunt spasms and contracts around his cock, your back arching and your eyes rolling back as it hits you hard and fast. You gasp and feel your muscles tense with each shock of pleasure, holding him tighter as you scream Tommy’s name.

His hips jerk and he thrusts his cock rough and deep, emptying himself inside you. He paints your insides white, flooding every little crevice with his hot cum as he shoves it inside of you, ensuring none can escape. He grunts, a rough sound in his throat that kicks up with every twitch of his cock. He watches you the whole time, taking pleasure from your own and pressing you into the bed with his hips.

You both ride out your highs, exchanging nothing between the both of you but breaths and moans and whispers of the other’s name. By the time the aftershocks slow, you’ve already fallen limp against the sheets as you relish in the weight of him squishing you into the bed. Tommy doesn’t move for a while, staying like that for as long as he can to enjoy the sensations of your warm, wet cunt occasionally squeezing around him.

Tommy lets out a long, deep sigh as he sits up again. Your thighs ache as he moves them from his shoulders. You whimper when he slips out of you, placing a hand behind your back to help you sit up again. You sit in his lap, easing down with him as he leans back against the bed, his head resting on the pillows as yours rest on his chest.

You sigh deeply, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you inhale the scent of his cologne and sex in the air. “Fuck,” you breathe. Tommy chuckles lightly, holding you to him and stroking his fingers along your shoulder.

“If that doesn’t get you pregnant, I don’t know what will,” he says, reaching over to retrieve his half smoked cigarette from the ashtray on the nightstand.

Your fingertips trace patterns into his chest, following the outlines of black ink embedded in his skin. “Just in case, though,” you say, looking up at him with a small grin, “I think we should go again to make sure it really stuck.”

He grins back at you, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Still, neither of you move as you enjoy the other’s still presence. You giggle lightly, a sound that comes out of nowhere as you continue to caress his chest. He glances down at you in question and you only laugh again. “I love you so much, Tom,” you smile.

He rolls his eyes, but in a playful way that follows his own gentle chuckle. “And I love you.”

You inhale deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss against the skin of his neck. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

He clears his throat, putting out his cigarette and sighing. “Well, it’s our honeymoon and I own this land, so we are going to stay here and kiss and fuck for as long as we wish.”

You smile wide, leaning forward slowly and speaking against his lips before bringing him into another kiss. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

You move on top of him again, straightening your back and steadying yourself on his chest. You lift your hips off of his, taking his cock and lining him up again with your soaked cunt. You feel his hands come to grip your hips as he continues to lie back and watch you. There’s an adoration in his eyes you wish you could just sit and watch forever as he stares at you.

“Good,” you smile, “‘cause I’m nowhere near done with you.”

You both groan as you sink back down on him.

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader smut #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader smut #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #fanfic #fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #reader insert #female reader #smut

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hami-gua · 2 months

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永别了，亲爱的 Farewell, My Beloved

Long overdue since Qingming has long since pass (oops).

Blade x gn! Reader

Takes place in game — not canon though

Warning: Chinese is used (English translation provided), angst hurt no comfort (first time writing this angsty)

Please read to the end for credits and reference.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━

Shoes echoes through the barren halls. The figure moves through the doorway, his steps slow. And then he stops. Right in front of the wall of name plaques. His red eyes scanned the whole wall, searching for a particular name and walking to it right as he spots it. He carefully pulls out a clean cloth — and with care, wiped down the plaque. It didn’t need to be cleaned, as workers everyday made sure all plaques are cleaned out of respect. Once he was done, he placed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of it then sits down.

The figure couldn’t help but think of their death. Of the three that had to pay a price, he alone had to pay the biggest. He made a promise to them and he broke it. The what ifs began to speed through his head. He’s died once, and he wants to die again. He wishes he can be with them in the afterlife. That is, if Mengpo doesn’t make him drink her soup. Not that he could see them anyway. Not after what he’s done.

He places two cups and pulls out a jar of wine. After filling both cups, he took his and raised it — drinking it all after.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said to them, “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

He wants to apologize but no matter what he says, he knows no explanation could cut it. It was his error in action. In emotion. There was no way words can express his regrets.

“我与你的记忆损乱了，“ a tear slips from his eye, “你长得什么样，我也记不了了。我也记不住你的声音了。我只能记得你的名字，但也记不了多久了。“ [Memories of me and you have been messed up… The way that you looked, I cannot remember. I also cannot remember your voice. I only remember your name, but I cannot remember that for long either.]

The figure sat in silence for a bit before starting once more, “当年，如果不��我，也不是丹枫的话，你今日该会是什么样了？你还会像以前一样跟景元玩象棋吗？跟丹枫看书？跟镜流和白珩逛街？或者跟我练功？” he drank another cup full of wine, “可惜，三个付出代价去了，一个早已离去，最后一个孤独的留在了罗浮。不知你和白珩有没有相遇。我想是。我们当时挣扎了好久，现在平安多了。你若在的话，肯定会喜欢现在罗浮的环境。“ [That year, if it wasn’t for me, and Dan Feng, what would you have been like today? Would it be like it was then, with you playing xiangqi with Jing Yuan? Reading with Dan Heng? Shopping with Jing Liu and Baiheng? Or would you have been sparring with me? …. Sadly, three paid a price, one has departed, and the last one is left lonely on Luofu. I don’t know if you and Baiheng have caught up. I’d like to think you guys did. Our time was so messy, but Luofu today is much peaceful. If you were here, you’d definitely like Luofu today.]

Amidst his rambling, another figure approached. She stood right behind him, gazing up on the plaque.

“It’s time you wrap it up, Bladie.”

Blade hummed in acknowledgment, “Just a little more time.”

The lady stared at him a bit longer before sighing and heading out, saying she’ll be waiting for him at the entrance. After he was sure he was alone again, he spoke softly.

“是时候该走了。如果我没有捅你一刀，你今天应该还会在吧。对不起，这是我最后一次能看你了。仙舟没有我的地方了。在这个人生里，可能再也不会有人像你一样叫我的名字了。我永远也不可能是应星了。” [It’s time I should get going. If I didn’t stab you that day, you would probably still be here. I’m sorry, this is my last time seeing you. There’s no longer a place for me on Xianzhou. In this life, there will be no one to say my name the way you do. And I will never be able to be Yingxing anymore.]

Blade gets up and places the jar of wine next to the filled cup. After, he bows to the name plaque three times. Then, he turns and walks out of the room — leaving Luofu till his death arrives.

永别了。。。[Farewell…]

亲爱的。[My beloved.]

─── ∙ ↤THE END↦ ∙ ─---

I've been thinking, should I make banners specifically for the characters I write? Or would that be too much? Cuz right now, I can't decide on a banner for each story.

Qingming 清明: Called Tomb-Sweeping day in the west. People visit the graves of their deceased love ones. Even going as far as cleaning and retouching graves. It’s customary to offer food and wine (or other beverages they loved).

White Chrysanthemums: White flowers, mainly white chrysanthemums are placed during funeral and the dead. Don’t gift these to people please (unless you desperately wish for that person to perish).

Mengpo 孟婆: A deity in the underworld that gives passing souls her specialty called 孟婆汤 (mengpo soup) that would wipe their memories for their journey in their next life.

Bowing three times: I was taught this at a young age, but when bowing to gods and ancestors, you bow three times. Usually it’s very quick, but I like to take it slow (cuz I think it shows deeper respect).

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #yingxing x reader #hsr yingxing #hsr blade x you #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade #hsr angst #blade angst #honkai star rail blade #honkai star rail angst #blade x you

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undertheorangetree · 9 months

Text

Our Gentle Sin

Saltwic

Summary- Confessions are made after the Battle of Beamfleot.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Fluff. Angst. Dialogue stolen from the show. Reader has hair at least shoulder length. Dry humping. The fluffiest smut to ever exist. P in v sex. Lots of feelings.

Author's Note- This is apart of Our Gentle Sin. I honestly adore this series and the dynamic I created here so here’s a fluffy ass fourth part💕 as usual the rest is on AO3!!

find the series masterlist here

dividers by firefly-graphics

She remembers the first time she ever met him. She had managed to track Uhtred down to Winchester, had cornered them all at an alehouse as she attempted to persuade them to let her join their group. Seeing him had thrown her off, an obvious sore thumb amongst a group of hardened warriors. Arms lacking the corded muscles of his companions, still skinny in the way men are when they’re only just out of boyhood. His hair had still been cut in the way of a novice and he had looked at her as if he was unused to seeing women, which she was sure he was. This one is no warrior, she had thought, and had gone as far as to use him as an example for them to consider her.

You’ve allowed the king’s bastard to join you, she had said. And he is little more than a monk. Surely allowing a girl would be no different.

Finan had been apprehensive but Sihtric had vouched for her and Uhtred had agreed, their heathen upbringing leaving them more than familiar with warrior women. The monk had stayed silent and she had gone out of her way to apologize to him later that night.

He had looked at her like a startled deer and his eyes had gone wide when she touched his arm but he had managed to swallow his discomfort long enough to say, “You meant no offense, lady. I am already giving them reason to allow me to stay. I will simply have to convince you as well.”

And he had convinced her, though it was not with his martial prowess. It was with his kind heart and subtle cleverness, with the endearing naivete that he quickly grew out of. They had grown close, closer than they had any right to or what may have been proper had they been integrated into normal society. Though they both knew she was the better fighter, she had caught him more than once guarding her. While she slept, while she bathed, keeping an eye on her whenever they faced Danes along the road.

He is no warrior but he is kind and that was all she ever wanted from him.

He is no warrior and yet she had allowed him to fight alone in the battle of Beamfleot.

He is no warrior and she had not been there when he fell.

She turns her head in time to watch him fall, beaten down by the blunt edge of a shield. Though she tries to go to him, she is trapped behind a wall of men, swords and shields and mud and blood making it impossible to reach him in time. She watches helpless as someone else kills the man who takes him down, the body landing on top of him, and can do nothing but hope beyond hope that he is more than just a body laying prone in the mud. When Alfred’s men finally break the line, ending their almost sure slaughter and begin taking down the Danes, she sprints passed them all to reach him. The distance seems longer now that she’s running it, feet squelching with every step as the mud tries to suck her back down, and she swings her axe into the gut of the man who tries to slow her down.

She’s breathing heavily, the cold air burning her throat and making her taste blood, but she throws herself down beside him all the same. The Dane corpse on top of him is a deadweight she’s not sure she can move but her determination wins out and she drags him away, his feet catching on Osferth’s side and turning him onto his back. She discards the body immediately, dropping to her knees and placing two fingers just below his jaw, muttering pleas as she searches for his heartbeat. It’s a feeling she has grown more than used to, the familiar thump of it always serving to calm her down. She has heard it a hundred times before, after they have lain together, when he hugs her close to his chest.

She does not know what she will do if she doesn’t hear it again now.

But it’s there, thrumming under the pads of her fingers. Weaker than she is used to but she is so relieved that it is there at all that she lets out a sob, fingers dropping to curl around the collar of his tunic.

Read the rest here

#osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth smut #osferth fanfic #osferth fanfiction #osferth tlk #osferth the last kingdom #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom x reader #osferth x fem!reader #tlk fanfic #tlk

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r0b1ns · 2 years

Text

STRANGER THINGS X MALE READER

OLDER TEENS

YOUR FIRST TIME TOGETHER

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Argyle

CW: SMUT, N/SFW, AMAB male reader, p in a, p in v, unprotected (argyle), a few swear words, let me know if I missed something

WORD COUNT: 930+

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

STEVE HARRINGTON

-first of you're probably his first time with a guy

-so he'll be nervous

-like REALLY nervous

-before you try anything he'll have a million questions

-that is if you're experienced

-if not you'll both try to find some info on that

-given it's the 80s there's not much

-anyway

-he'll ask Robin for advice

-even tho she has no clue

-he'll buy everything you both need and prepare the bed just because

-lube, condoms, other things

-you'll start slowly, starting with just making out

BOTTOM READER

-he'll be very careful not to hurt you

-he'll probably squeeze out too much lube

-his hands shaking

-but eventually he'll calm down

-he'll be gentle with you

-leaving kisses on your stomach and thighs

-taking his time with preparing you

-he'll slide in slowly, picking up the speed bit by bit

-will ask if you're okay every five minutes

-will try very hard to last longer

TOP READER

-he'll be nervous as HELL

-you'll have to reassure him it'll be fine

-you'll have to stay on each finger preparing him for some time

-when you slide in he sees stars

-tries to be quiet but fails

-hold your shoulder tight leaving marks

-he'll want to go again but would be too tired

EDDIE MUNSON

-he's a VIRGIN

-never felt a touch of a man in his life

-but it's ok

-he's down to try anything

-he's into S&M obviously but not the first time

-he'll be too excited to remember anything

-in the middle of you making out he'll start searching for condoms

-he already has lube on his nightstand

-he uses it a lot yk

BOTTOM READER

-you'll have to remind him to go easy

-he has a hard time controlling himself

-but he'll try for your sake

-cause he does not want to hurt you in a bad way

-he'll grip your thighs

-and'll press his nose to your shoulder supporting himself with one hand on the mattress

-he'll grunt a lot

-heavy breathing

-will finish still inside you

-a little too early than he wanted

-but it's only his first time

-so it's ok

TOP READER

-he'll tell you you can go without preparing him

-don't listen to him

-he'll be very impatient

-saying "I'm ready" after every finger

-when you actually go in he's on cloud 9

-after a short time will depend from you to go faster and harder

-his moans are so loud he'll have to bite you on the shoulder not not wake up Wayne

-scratches your beck

-moves his ass in sync with your thrusts

-comes before you but tells you to keep going

-this boy will still have energy left for round 2 and maybe 3

NANCY WHEELER

-she's not a virgin we know it

-so she knows how it goes

-if you're experienced it'll go smoothly

-if not she'll guide you and show you what she likes

-you'll be careful

-not going in too deep at first

-she'll tell you "you can go faster, I'm not made of glass"

-she'll grip your shoulders

-and breath on your neck

-she won't be very loud

-but she'll gasp almost soundlessly

-a few minutes after you finish you'll go down on her

-to please her 100% precent

JONATHAN BYERS

-i think he did it with a guy before

-so he won't be completely lost

-tho not so knowledged either

-he'll make sure you have everything you need

-even brings a glass of water for afterwards

-he'll have to really trust you to sleep with you

-so you're already further into your relationship

BOTTOM READER

-he'll know to prepare you before going in

-will take his time but not too long

-you'll have to be quiet cause his siblings are probably home

-and his mon too

-asks if you're ready

-after you say yes he goes in slowly

-starting with a slow steady pace

-going faster every few thrusts

-he'll clean himself and you immediately after you both finish

-will give you the water he prepared before

TOP READER

-you'll kiss him before to easy him up

-when you're preparing him he'll gently grab you hand if he wants you to slow down

-he'll mostly be quiet

-when you go in he'll hold your around your neck

-he'll want to be close to you

-he prefers a slow pace

-you last longer like that

-he'll try to give you the water but you'll force him to drink it himself

-he needs it more than you

ARGYLE

-it will probably won't be intentional

-you're just hanging out, making out

-and you just go further

-imma be honest you probably won't use a condom

-or lube

-you'll have to use spit instead

-he'll kiss you all over your body

-makimg the foreplay last longer

-only completely taking off your pants

BOTTOM READER

-he's sloppy

-but he's also responsible and cares a lot about you

-so he'll prepare you until he knows for sure you're ready

-he'll be LOUD

-Doesn't care if somebody hears you

-he'll start slow but hard

-upping the pace every now and than

-he'll talk a lot

-but only things like "yeah" and "oh fuck"

-will flop on top of you after you both finish

TOP READER

-argyle won't need a lot of preparation

-he'll get used to it very quickly

-will hold on into something like his bed, or van door

-will also be very loud

-a lot of "oh jesus christ" and "yes fuck me"

-you'll leave marks on his thighs

-he'll have energy for one more round

-after you finish you'll both just lay there catching your breaths

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

!gifs are not mine!

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dilfspitdrinker · 10 months

Note

Request?

Frankie and f!reader are in a long term relationship, no kids. He has been home and decommissioned for a while and is really enjoying civie life. Reader keeps him happy in the bedroom and well fed and stuffed with his favorite foods in the kitchen. Over time, the guys begin to notice Frankie is getting a fuller frame/bigger belly (cloths fitting not the same) and Frankie notices that reader really likes the extra Frankie she has on her hands now. Maybe he’s a little self conscious at first, but begins to enjoy his new figure.

A/N: I LOVE this request anon. it gave me a reason to watch triple frontier and fall in love with yet another Pedro Pascal character (Frankie was literally the best one). it also gave me a reason to write smut for the first time. Didn't attempt anything crazy, just hoping its decent for a first try. ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! ily anon

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, body image insecurity, weight/appearance joke, terribly short smut scene (soz its my first time), unprotected P in V, can you tell how in love they are it's sickening

Good Taste

It struck him as odd when he had to wear his belt one notch looser than before. At the time, he didn’t pay it any mind beyond a huh, look at that. Even when he tucked in his shirt and noticed a little extra protruding over the waistband of his pants, he hardly bothered dwelling on it. There were more interesting things on his mind tonight. He was getting ready to reunite with his old buddies from his time in the service.

Frankie generally had a quiet demeanor, but after years together, you could distinguish many subtleties. The glint in his eye, the lightness in his tone, the way he moved around the room with a longer stride. He was excited to see the guys, it had been a while since they’d all been together.

He turned away from the mirror to face you, cross-legged on the bed. You were wearing his ball cap, you liked to snatch it when he wasn’t looking. He gestured to himself, “I look alright?”

You smiled fondly, “You look gorgeous.”

He squinted at you, with what might appear to be a scowl, but you could tell he was suppressing a grin.

You straightened up, “Oh, sorry. I meant you look manly, you look so rugged.”

He chuckled, and you hopped off the bed, hands settling on his sides. He swiped the hat off your head and put it on as you trapped him in a hug. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder and you murmured sweetly, “Love you.”

“Love you too baby,” he enveloped you in his arms, holding you a moment longer.

You adjusted his hat, and sent him off with a “have fun” and a kiss.

Once in the bar, he spotted the guys and approached their table. Benny, Santi, Tom, and Will greeted him with enthusiasm– hugs, handshakes and back slaps all around.

As Santi slid him a beer, Frankie took a seat, feeling how the waistband of his jeans dug into his midsection.

“Fish! How’s civilian life treating you?” Benny asked, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“It’s been good man,” Frankie grinned, “Living life, finally relaxing for once, you know?”

Everyone agreed, some more earnestly than others.

“You wanna order any food?”

Frankie shook his head, “No, I’m alright. My lady feeds me good.”

“Yeah man, we can tell.”

The comment didn’t immediately get to him– he laughed at it along with the others, and the conversation moved forward. The evening continued enjoyably.

But that night, he scrutinized himself in the mirror as he pulled off his shirt. Not nearly as toned as he used to be, he now had a small belly. His face was noticeably fuller too. He glanced at you in the mirror, already in bed, waiting for him. You’d never made any specific comments about his body, but he noticed that you were more eager to hug and cuddle recently. He liked it, but it left him to wonder what you thought of his changing figure. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it himself. It was no secret that since being decommissioned, he was no longer in top shape. He still worked out, just not as intensely, and you were certainly keeping him well fed. It wasn’t his fault that everything you cooked was delicious, and how could he say no to a second serving when you insisted it was made with love? He would’ve thought you preferred him lean, if not for the way you’d cling to his torso and squeeze with a content sigh.

You laid on your side and watched him, eyes full of adoration and desire, but he wasn’t looking at you. He’d been staring at himself in the mirror for a few minutes now. In the dim lamp light, you followed his gaze, landing on his midsection. You loved the softness of his belly, it was the warmest and comfiest spot on his body. And you hated the hardness in his eyes directed at himself.

He finally turned to face you, “You need to stop feeding me so much.”

“Why?” you asked innocently, pupils blown.

He approached the side of the bed, “Because these pants are getting small.”

You hooked a finger into his belt and tugged him towards you, nimbly undoing the buckle, “So take them off.”

You were desperate to get your hands on him. The whole time he was gone, you could only think about getting him all to yourself again. And after expressing that he was less than pleased with his body? You couldn’t let him get away with that.

He was entranced by you, pulling him onto the bed, straddling him, stripping the layers. He knew what you were doing, showing how much you wanted him. The heat of your bare skin against his own was enough to make him forget what he was dwelling on so much. You were more than ready for him, eagerly lining him up with your entrance. Sinking slowly onto his length, you were determined to convince him that he’s never looked more irresistible. And you were doing a damn good job.

You had one hand planted on his chest and the other on his stomach, rocking your hips rhythmically. He squeezed your ass, head thrown back onto the pillows, eyes screwed shut. You loved getting him like this, sweating and breathless, and riding him was the best way to achieve that. He wouldn’t admit it, but with the way he was cursing and guiding the roll of your hips, this was obviously his favorite position. You raised your hand from his chest and pushed back a few of his curls that had stuck to his forehead. He looked up at you, eyes glazed with love at the gesture.

His hand went between your bodies to circle your clit. The rhythm of your hips faltered at the contact, and you braced yourself with both hands on his stomach. You shifted as he planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you at a ruthless pace. You nearly fell forward onto him, digging your fingers into his flesh while his still circled your clit relentlessly. Your climax rippled from your core to your limbs, making you shakily drop to his chest. He chased his own high, and it wouldn’t take much longer with your walls squeezing around him. He gripped your ass roughly, pounding into you, grunting breathily right in your ear. You felt his hips shudder beneath you as he came, warmth spilling inside you.

He panted deeply, your body rising and falling with his chest. Apparently too spent to think about getting cleaned up, you positioned yourself how you two fall asleep most nights: legs tangled, with your head tucked into the crook of his neck.

Your lips brushed his skin as you spoke, “You know I love you, and I want you. All of you, all the time.”

He tugged you a little closer, “I needed the reminder.”

“Happy to give it to you.”

A smirk spread across his face, “Might have to remind me more often.”

You chuckled warmly, “Yeah? Well just let me know.”

He felt the warmth of your palm splayed across his stomach.

If you liked it, he did too. It was like that with everything really– clothes, meals, furniture. You had good taste, and he trusted it. Why should he think any differently regarding himself? If you liked it, he did too.

Masterlist

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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lumoverheaven · 11 months

Text

Creep

Mood board made by my lovey love @iamasaddie tysm 💗💗

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Creep!Joel Miller x Plus size!reader

!!! 18+ content. If you’re a minor go away !!!

A/n: I’m back at it again folks with sum a little longer! Also this is a combination of best friend’s dad!joel as well as dad’s best friend!joel. As always constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 🫶🫶💗💗

Also big thank you to @gab-thelamb-onthemoon for proofreading, thanks mama 🫶💗

Warnings: Joel is a massive creep, noncon, cunnilingus, somnophilia, and slight mentions of impregnation

W/c: 1,037

Weirdo (pt. 2) The Hell am I Doing Here? (pt.3)

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

You were a bright-faced, cheerful girl. You attended a community college in Austin since you moved in with your dad when you turned 18. You spent your childhood with your mother and barely saw your dad. You decided to cut your old man some slack given how difficult your mom is, so despite her wishes, you moved in with your dad once you graduated high school.

Your dad had been best friends with Joel Miller since he got to Austin some years back, and the summers you would spend over there, you got along just fine with his daughter Sarah. Now that you’re all grown up and in college, you barely see each other, especially since Sarah is studying out of state. Once she gets home, you two plan a sleepover to catch up and do girl things, like the old days. You both decide to have the sleepover at Sarah’s house since she has a pool, and you don’t. You spent the whole afternoon together splashing in the water, playing mermaids like you would when you were little.

Joel was in the house while you both were having your sleepover. He hates to admit it, but you’ve gotten so gorgeous in his eyes. Your curvaceous figure, plump ass and thighs, plush tummy, hell, even your breasts are enticing to him. He never really noticed you till after you moved in with your father. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. If he was being frank with himself, he’s always loved bigger women. He loved the idea of holding onto their hips with a bruising grip as he fucked them from behind. He wanted to see the women beneath him jiggle from the amount of force he’d pound into them with. He wondered how wonderfully you’d shake if he were to have his way with you. Joel returned from his thoughts when you both entered the house, dripping wet. It took everything within Joel not to groan at your damp state. He simply just went upstairs, away from the temptation.

.。･:*♡ ♡*:･。.

After having a shower and eating dinner, you and Sarah change into your PJs and decide to tuck in and watch a movie. 30 minutes into the film, you both fall asleep, exhausted from swimming around all day. You had thrashed around in your sleep, finding a comfortable position as you were in and out of consciousness. The precarious position made your tank top ride up on your tummy, and your sleep shorts that barely covered your ass had exposed the entirety of your thighs.

Joel decided to check in on his girls to ensure they were okay. He quietly opened Sarah’s door and took in their sleeping forms. He mumbled, “Good night, baby girl.” He then turned his attention to you, the blanket on you long forgotten on the floor and exposing you to him. He slowly and quietly made his way over to you, eyeing you down, his breath hitched.

“Look at you. A vision for sore eyes. So fucking pretty.” He whispered as he got down on his knees. He scanned your body from top to bottom, taking in your vulnerable state. Joel moved his hand to caress your tummy. “So plump and soft.. must be a nice pillow.. fuck imagine your pretty little stomach filled with my babies.” He said to himself as his cock strained in his sweatpants; the thought of breeding your little pussy and impregnating you excited him.

He moved on to palm your tits over your tank top. Your nipples had hardened when he began touching you. You were none the wiser, simply asleep. A victim to the perverse man before you. “So fucking soft. Wanna paint your pretty tits with my cum..” As gently as he could, he moved his hand down to your clothed pussy. His eyes darkened as he cupped your clothed sex. He wondered if you were wet right now due to his touch.

He knows he shouldn’t; he knows that this is all wrong; you’re his best friend’s daughter and his daughter's best friend, for Christ's sake! He shouldn’t want you! His desire silenced all rational thought.

He moved your sleeping shorts aside along with your panties and opened your folds. You let out a soft whimper in your sleep, causing Joel to stop his movements. Once you settled down in your sleep, Joel resumed praising your wet cunt. “Fuck. Such a beautiful princess. I want to fuck your tight little hole and ruin you for anyone else. Mark you up, fill you with my cum. Make you mine..” Joel whispered into your cunt, his fingers gently running along the wet seam of your puffy cunt. He couldn’t take it anymore; he just had to have a taste!

Joel leaned forward and began to press soft kisses to your pussy. He gently lapped up your wetness and sucked on your clit. With his free hand, he had moved it down his body to palm his hard cock, trying to alleviate his arousal.

There was no way you didn’t feel what was happening between your legs as your orgasm approached. Your eyes opened, and your hand flew to yank the hair of whoever was eating you out.

“M-Mr. Miller?!” You whispered as you looked down at him in horror. Joel chuckled in a dark tone as if you were catching him doing something naughty. “Hey, princess. Don’t mind me, just tasting the sweetest honey from the sweetest girl.” He purred as he gave one long lick up your pussy, never taking his eyes off yours as he did so. You held back a loud moan by slapping your hand over your mouth. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure, you found Mr. Miller attractive, but you never thought he’d be into you as well.

“C’mon, pretty girl, let me finish what I started in my room. I don’t wanna wake Sarah up now.” He smiled at her, standing up, holding his hand out to you. You bit your bottom lip to think for a few seconds before deciding to go. Screw it. He was a hot older man, and you’ve wanted him for a while now. One night couldn’t hurt. Could it?

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 months

Text

The One That Got Away

Summary: It had been a year since your ex-husband Tommy had seen you. He was hoping for the chance to see you again to show you how much he has cleaned up and changed for you. He didn't think that when he saw you again, you'd be engaged to one of his closest friends.

Warnings: Smut, p-in-v

Thomas thought his eyes were deceiving him.

Throughout the crowded room filled with women wearing beautiful, exemplary gowns, and their makeup and hair done elegantly, only one woman stood out to him.

The one he treated so unfairly, so immaturely but was always the most respectful, most beautiful, most hypnotizing woman in the room.

He froze in place, jaw clenched when he saw you standing there, hair flowing down, your bright red lipstick and silver dress. It shattered him inside to see your once innocent eyes that he corrupted by the way he handled your marriage.

It was as if he was seeing a ghost and it broke his heart.

He wanted to fix things, wanted to prove to you how much he’s changed and improved, all in the hopes of seeing you one day.

He just didn’t think the day he did see you again you’d be engaged to his dear friend Alfie Solomons.

“Brotha!” Alfie pulled Thomas out of his gaze, pulling him into a friendly bear hug.

“You’re engaged to my ex wife Alfie.” Alfie pulled away from the hug, taking a swig from his flask. It seems someone at this party had already beat him to the punch of telling Tommy the news.

“I am. I am.” Alfie rubbed at his beard, eyebrows etched together trying to think of just the right words to explain.

“I can’t really explain how it happened. She was looking for comfort after your divorce, right? It was all innocent, just things get a little complicated mate. Y’know what I mean, yeah?” Tommy knew all too well what he meant.

He let his business get in the way of his marriage to you, he allowed other women into his life for nights when you weren't around. He’s the one that made it complicated.

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean Alfie.”

Staring off into the distance, both of their eyes landed on you, mingling with strangers, and Tommy felt strange that he was doing it out of making sure you were safe even though that was no longer his job.

“I haven’t seen her smile like that in years Alfie. Not since our wedding did she have that bright, beautiful smile.” Thomas tried his best to keep a straight face but Alfie could see right through him in his broken, hurting state.

Alfie had no bad intentions and didn’t plan to fall in love with you. He wasn’t out to get Thomas,never has been, never will be.

“She’s perfect ain’t she?” Tommy looked away, pondering if Alfie would allow him to talk to you one last time.

“Do you mind if I have a word with Y/N, it will only be a couple of minutes.” Alfie extended his hand respectfully in the direction of you to where you were talking with your friend to let Tommy air his thoughts out to you.

“Just don’t try none of that charming, conning crap on my future bride to be!” All joking aside, Tommy nodded sincerely, ever so grateful that the man he still calls his friend hasn’t changed.

Alfie also knew it wouldn’t be from a bad place and his friend wouldn’t sabotage him or you. Tommy thanked him graciously before making his way to you.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him dressed in his suit and tie, hair smoothly combed, still looking as handsome as the day you married him, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You had moved on, you were happy, but there was something about Tommy that would always stick with you.

A few of the women surrounding you giggled and blushed when Tommy approached you.

“Hello, I was wondering if I could have a moment with Y/N?” Tommy looked at you for an answer with his crystal blue eyes that looked guilty, but pleading in the hope you would give him the chance.

Alfie stood by the wall, chatting with your sister as he kept an eye from afar.

“Can we make this short?”

“One last dance. That’s all I’m asking.”

You looked over to your fiancé as Tommy extended his hand as an invitation. Alfie nodded, reassuring you he hasn’t got a problem with it.

He wasn’t the jealous type and he still trusted Tommy as a friend and you as his future wife.

Taking his hand, there was still that sense of an electric current moving through your veins when your skin touched.

His hands were cold, as they’d always been, but it still gave you the sense of being safe. Nonetheless, you’d never be able to forgive Tommy for all the things he had managed to do to you in the short one year you were married.

The music changed, into a slower tempo and you followed in Tommy’s footsteps. “So engaged to one of my close friends, eh? Didn’t see that one coming.” Tommy chuckled, no hatred in his voice. “Well there’s a lot of things we don’t see coming, isn’t there Tommy?” He sighed and his eyebrows etched in guilt when he thought of all the ways he went wrong and treated you terribly.

When he spoke his voice was hoarse, and you could tell in his eyes this was difficult for him and he was trying to keep his composure without breaking down. That wouldn’t be fair to you.

“Yes, there is. Alfie’s a good man, a much better man than I could ever be. I took the insecure way with you. I couldn’t face myself and I wasn’t there for you. I know Alfie will be.”

“I’d like to clarify neither of us wanted you to find out like this.” Tommy twirled you slowly and caught you in his arms securely. He’d never let you fall again. Your eyes connected with his. Something about his baby blue eyes always felt like they would draw you in, drag you back but you’ve made progress in the two years you haven’t see him. That was no longer possible.

“Our love went cold because of me, and it would be very unfair of me to have an opinion on your engagement. I just want you to be happy Y/N.”

“I am happy, and I just want to say, I do forgive you. Alfie has taught me so much, and made me realize in not forgiving, I will never be truly at peace.” Hearing you say you forgive him, made the growing heart inside his chest feel as if it was slowly starting to shatter into pieces.

Thomas couldn’t stop the one, singular tear stream down his cheek. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness by any means, he didn’t deserve to even have this dance with you.

The song was nearing an end but you didn’t feel like you had anymore words to say.

Maybe Thomas has changed but it was quite too little too late.

In one last twirl, he dipped you and caught you in his strong, toned arm, other hand intertwined with yours.

All time felt like it stopped when you locked eyes one last time.

As the music changed, he still had you in this position and the people around you started to disperse.

“I still and always will, love you Y/N.”

Memories of your past together flashed their way through your mind. What was a beautiful, romantic start, and the way he first asked you to join him for dinner. He was quite the gentleman and went out of his way to surprise you with small trinkets, and expensive jewelry but then the rotten memories of catching him with women and lying to you about his business affairs found their way into your mind, breaking you out of this trance you found yourself in so much.

He didn’t break eye contact once and you were still staring into his convincing, yet sincere blue eyes. He was being truthful; he was putting himself in a fragile state by speaking his true feelings.

He assisted you in standing up and guided you back to where Alfie was still talking with your sister. Tommy nodded at her.

“Allison, nice to see you again. Hope you’ve been well.” Your sister made a disgusted face, she seemed to be the only woman in Birmingham that was never affected or influenced by Tommy’s charms and looks.

Alfie pulled you gently into his side, holding you with a loving arm around your waist. He handed you your coat that he had been holding and assisted you in putting it on.

“I’ve had a grand idea, Tommy my boy, why don’t you come to our wedding, yeah? I was going to ask you to be my best man, but I can see that may be difficult considering the circumstances, right?” Tommy shook his head, not feeling as if he should be there. You both knew Thomas had grown up, but Alfie wanted his best mate there in support, he wanted Tommy’s support.

“C’mon. Past is the past yeah? I can’t have my wedding day without my best mate Tommy Shelby there, now can I? Of course, if that’s alright with you love?” You nodded in agreement.

Tommy and Alfie had known each other longer than you’d known either of them, but it would warm you heart to know that Thomas could set the past aside and move on.

Thomas wanted to be there for you, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing you at the altar with another man. “I’ll sleep on it, eh?” You both nodded before Alfie noticed you were shivering.

“Are you cold love, yeah? Why don’t we get the car, and I’ll drive us home. That damn dog is probably tearing everything a part with how long we’ve been at this social shit show anyway.” Tommy said his goodbyes and went to excuse himself to go and talk to Ada but before he could, you stopped him.

“Thomas.” He looked back at you with winded, yet content eyes. “Y/N. Alfie, treat her well. Don’t let her get away like I did.” You wanted to thank him for his modesty and honesty but he didn’t give you the chance.

“Well I’m not fucking stupid now am I mate?” Thomas laughed and waved him off before bidding you both ado.

The rain pattered against the window of the car as you lay your head rested on Alfie’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to give him that opportunity, you’re far more gracious than I am at times, and that’s one of the things I love about you y’know.”

“I know love but who am I to deny him the chance of forgiveness.” You bit your lip, looking up at your husband to be. He leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips, his beard gently rubbing against your soft delicate skin.

When you had arrived home, the two of you we’re greeted with Cyril laying at the door asleep. “Lazy fuck, couldn’t even do the dishes could yuh?” You smacked Alfie playfully as he leaned down to give the sweet pup a hearty, loving pet.

Once upstairs the two of you took a hot much needed shower. The water ran down your cold skin and you couldn’t help but hug your husband around the waist, pressing your head into his firm, toned back.

Tracing your fingers around his muscular figure.

Alfie was in more than great shape, every toned muscle, curving his body just perfectly. It turned you on more knowing that this man was yours and he wasn't going anywhere.

Turning he ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back, making you bite down on your bottom lip, looking up at him with begging, lustful eyes. He stared down at you with dark eyes, as his member downstairs began to grow.

You ran your hand down his chest, further to his happy little trail where you rested your hand upon his plump tip, rubbing it ever so agonizingly slow that he was beginning to lose patience. He had been wanting to fuck you all night long seeing you in what he thought was way too tight of a dress.

“Jump.” In an instant you were wrapping your legs around his waist and he had caught you with his firm, large hands and they settled right underneath both your ass cheeks that he could devour any second of the day.

Lining himself with your entrance, as soon as you felt his tip in just the right spot, you dropped your body weight down onto his large member, forcing a throaty groan that sounded like music to your ears to escape from your husband to be’s rough lips.

You felt complete, like your body was whole when his cock was buried deep within you.

“Fuck love, you’re so fucking tight.” He couldn’t help but start to rapidly pound into you over and over again at the sight of your tits dripping with water and at the feeling of your ass cheeks cupping his hands rather perfectly. “My bride to fucking be!”

“Harder.”

“Darling if I go any harder i might snap you in fuckin half.” Tugging at his hair you aligned your lips next to his ear.

“I said fucking harder.”

Wasting no time, he slammed you against the shower wall as the water continued to fall, thrusting in and out of you, his dick hitting all the right spots, you were already feeling yourself soaking him and you were close.

Your moans began to get louder, and he demanded you look at him when you were about to cum.

The sight of your fucked out eyes, and how desperately close you were to cumming took control of him. He didn’t hold back.

His free hand found its way to one of your tits grabbing it roughly, tugging at your hardened nipple. He continued at his pace and he could feel your walls squeezing around him. Within seconds you both were cumming, his warm seed shooting up into you, coating your insides. “Fuck me! Are you alright love?” You nodded still trying to catch your breath.

“I love you Alfie Solomons.” He couldn’t help but grin and smirk to himself. “Yeah I bet you fuckin do future Mrs. Solomons. after that fucking. I love you too.”

He placed a kiss to your lips before turning off the water. “Now why don’t we get to bed, yeah? Long fucking two weeks ahead of us.”

The two weeks until the wedding had passed rather quickly as you had been so busy with planning and now here you were standing in your dress, awaiting for the doors to open.

You were nervous to see Alfie cleaned up, and in a tuxedo on a day like today because you were scared of crying out of happiness.

When the door opened and you were met with the room full of people the first person you noticed and was the only one that turned around was sitting in back row right by the door.

There Thomas was staring at you, taking in your white eccentric dress, and your hair pinned up in the thin white vail.

He smiled at you in adoration and you silently mouthed a thank you to him for coming.

Thomas had made a vow to himself that he had let you fall too many times, and he wanted to be there whenever you asked him, never again would he let you down.

Once you reached the altar Alfie was smiling bright, fully with his teeth showing. He was astonished at how amazing you looked, and it absolutely took his breath away. “You look fucking beautiful sweetheart.” A tear was rolling down his cheek, his eyes full of love and joy that the day had finally come that he was marrying the woman of his dreams.

Trying your best to hold back tears from ruining your makeup you thanked him as the priest began the ceremony.

The vows were exchanged, no objections said. “You may kiss the bride.”

“You bet your ass I’m gonna kiss her, and more tonight!” Everyone laughed at his joke and in a lightning movement Alfie’s hands were on both of your cheeks pulling you into his welcoming plush lips in a kiss that you wished would last forever.

Tommy stayed seated in the back row, he may be regretful but all he wanted was for you to be happy, even if it meant it wasn’t with him. He watched as you walked hand in hand with Alfie down the aisle as a newly happy married couple.

He reminisced back to the day where that was him and you, ready to take on the world, but he understood he needed to move on.

Standing up and setting the pamplet down on the pew, he began to clap for the two of you.

Tommy was proud of you for getting away from him, even if it hurt him but he felt more at ease knowing that the man you were marrying would never hurt you or even think about doing half the things he did to you.

Winking at you, he smiled. All he could now was a friend to you, continue to be a friend to Alfie, and accept the consequences of his mistakes.

#tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #ranaewrites

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pedroscurls · 10 months

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Third Time’s A Charm (Part 17).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: Frankie settles his divorce with Victoria, and he asks you a very important question. Word Count: 4,545 Author's Note: I just want to express my gratitude for everyone that has read, commented, and liked this story. Truly, it means so much to me. This story was so very special to me (and my first ever Frankie Morales multi-chaptered story) and I can’t wait to write more of him. We’ve got an epilogue left and this story will come to an end... I’m sad to see it end, but excited to see what other stories I write for this character. (also this is the ring if you wanted to see what it would look like) Warning: smut!!! (truly just very sensual p in v sex)

Frankie was exhausted. Finally, after six months of hell with Victoria and her lawyer, they had finalized their divorce. Frankie no longer wanted to fight with her, settling on allowing her to keep the house and everything else that came with it. He wanted to cut ties with her, to just start fresh in this new chapter of his life, and he didn’t want any reminder of her or the memories they shared. That isn’t to say that Victoria made it easy. In fact, the past six months were brutal with her bringing up the fact that he was an addict who was currently on probation. It hurt; she knew exactly where to dig the knife further and further until he couldn’t take it anymore.

But whenever Frankie wanted to react, wanted to scream and yell and tell Victoria how much of a bitch she was, he held his tongue. He kept quiet, only speaking to his lawyer and addressing Victoria when it was absolutely necessary and he noticed how it angered Victoria when she realized that she wasn’t going to get the reaction out of him like she had planned. That, at least, satisfied Frankie. To know that Victoria was no longer going to win, that she didn’t have any power over him like she used to, and it gave Frankie the confidence to keep showing up, to finalize this divorce so that he could continue on with his life and never have to look back.

The day the divorce was finalized, Frankie immediately called the guys to tell them the good news. He knew he should have called you first, but he had other plans in mind that required Benny, Will, and Santiago’s help. He climbed into his truck, letting out a relieved breath as he removed his tie and undid a few buttons at the top of his shirt.

“Congratulations, hermano,” Santiago said over the phone.

“Thanks, Pope. I feel like a brand new man.”

Santiago laughed. “So, what’s next?”

“Can you and the rest of the guys meet me? I’ll text you the address.”

“You’re not going home to celebrate with the missus?” Santiago teased.

Frankie chuckled. “Not yet. I want to do something first and I need your guys’ help.”

“Is it–”

“Just meet me, Pope.” Frankie smiled. He hung up the phone and sent the address to Santiago. Frankie pulled out of the parking spot and began making his way towards a store that you always liked to visit. He had told you months before that he didn’t want to waste anymore time and now that his divorce was finalized, Frankie wanted to make it official. He knew what your answer would be, but he wanted to make it meaningful, wanted to show you how much he truly loved you, and how excited he was to move forward with you as his wife.

Wife. It brought a smile to his face. You had always been the one that lingered in the back of his mind. The first time you two were together, Frankie was overwhelmed and truthfully fearful about how much he felt for you– he had fallen for you so fast and so hard and he hadn’t ever felt that way before. To this day, he still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you in his life. You were so kind, so understanding and with such a big heart that he constantly wondered what good karma he did in his life to deserve you. Of all the things he had done, he never truly felt like he deserved you.

You were so good and he was just… not.

But you always made sure to show him just how special he was. You always looked at him with such soft and warm eyes that Frankie never wanted to disappoint you, never wanted to hurt you; he wanted to be a good, and better, man for you.

He knew that being in a relationship with him wasn’t easy and that dealing with someone like him took a certain kind of patience and empathy, but with you? It was easy. You never put any pressure on him to talk about the things that bothered him, never told him to just get over it… Instead, you constantly reminded him that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d always be by his side, even if it meant that it hurt you. You were his anchor, his light at the end of the tunnel… You kept him grounded and reminded him that while days can be tough, you were still going to stick by his side no matter what, and that always brought him comfort.

As he pulled up to the jewelry store, he saw Benny, Santiago, and Will leaning against their cars. With a smile on his face, Frankie pulled into the spot next to them and climbed out of his truck. He removed his suit jacket, now clad in just suit pants and a white button-up with the buttons undone at the top and the sleeves folded to his elbows.

“Fish, congrats, man,” Benny said, pulling him into a hug. “We’re so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Ben,” Frankie smiled, giving the younger man a hug and pulling away. “I want to do this right and I want you guys to be part of it.”

“We’re gonna get the most perfect ring,” Benny winked. “She’s gonna love it.”

“And we already got her ring size,” Will grinned.

“You have an idea of what you’re looking for, Fish?” Santiago asked.

Frankie smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got an idea. Let’s head inside.”

Once the four of them stepped inside, one of the workers approached them with a smile. Frankie let out a breath as he looked around the display cases, biting his lower lip.

“Hi there,” the woman said with a smile. “Is there anything specific you guys are looking for?”

Frankie looked at her and nodded. “A 1.5 carat oval diamond with an 18k yellow gold band? Maybe with some extra small diamonds on the band too?”

The woman smiled. “Of course, follow me.”

“You put a lot of thought into this,” Benny teased. “1.5 carat? 18k yellow gold?”

Frankie rolled his eyes, followed by laughter from Will and Santiago. “I just want her to have the best.”

“We’re just teasing,” Santiago laughed. “I mean, we didn’t even come with you the first time around.”

“I didn’t put much thought into that one,” he admitted. “But I want her to look at the ring and just–”

“We get it, Fish,” Will smiled. “She deserves the best of the best. If you know what you’re looking for, it makes this a bit easier.”

Frankie smiled, watching the jeweler pull out several choice rings to display in front of him. He bit his lower lip, looking at each one intently until one caught his eye. The moment he looked at it, he imagined it sitting on your finger and a broad smile lined his lips.

“That one’s perfect.”

The woman smiled and gently handed it to Frankie. The guys were all standing near him, looking over his shoulder at the ring that was now in Frankie’s hands. It was delicate, not too over the top, but was flashy enough to show just how beautiful and special it was. It was perfect for you and Frankie nodded to himself.

“That’s– She’s gonna love that one, Fish,” Santiago smiled.

Will nodded in agreement. “Oh, she’s definitely going to cry.”

“Because of the ring or because Fish is gonna propose?” Benny chuckled.

“Probably all of the above,” Will smiled.

“Es perfecto, hermano,” Santiago said.

“I think so too,” Frankie smiled. “Can we get this one?”

“Of course. What’s her size?”

Frankie looked over at the guys.

“Six and a half,” Benny said.

“Do you guys have that right now or would we have to place an order and pick it up at a different time?” Frankie asked.

“Let me go and check.”

Once the worker left, Frankie smiled and looked down at the ring. “If they have it in her size, I’m proposing tonight.”

Santiago grinned. “How are you gonna propose?”

“On one knee?” Frankie replied.

“Okay, smartass,” Benny laughed.

“I was thinking of taking her to the beach,” Frankie smiled. “Maybe during sunset and then just… Asking her to spend the rest of her life with me.”

“Always the secret romantic,” Will said with a smile.

—

Frankie walked into the apartment and saw you in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. He let his eyes rake over your frame, taking note of your casual loungewear of shorts and one of his t-shirts. He smiled to himself; Frankie always loved seeing you in his clothes.

“Hermosa,” he called out, walking towards you.

You looked up at him and smiled, bringing the glass of water to your lips. “How’d it go, my love?”

Frankie wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you to him. You set aside your glass and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m divorced. Officially.”

“So, it’s me and you from now on?”

Frankie nodded. “Last chance to back out.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and leaned up to peck his lips. “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, you promise?” He grinned. “Because I kind of like the sound of that.”

“Kind of?” you said with a pout.

Frankie let out a quiet chuckle and kissed your forehead. “Maybe just a bit.”

“Fine, I’ll take it,” you teased.

Frankie smiled, pulling back to look down at you. “Look at you, wearing my shirt.”

“Mmm, I like wearing your clothes.”

“I like seeing you in my clothes, hermosa.”

You bit your lower lip, bringing your hands to rest on his chest. You tilted your head and leaned up on your toes to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Keep that up and we’re gonna have to go into the bedroom.”

Frankie grinned against you, his hands resting on your waist. “Can I take you out first? To celebrate?”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay in?” You asked, pulling back from him. “I don’t mind–”

“How about we grab some burgers and head to the beach?”

Your eyes lit up and a broad smile lined your lips. “And watch the sunset?” you asked.

Frankie nodded. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that and I figured–”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Absolutely, yes.”

“Let me get out of these clothes and then we can head out.” Frankie placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you. “Can you wear this though?”

“What? Shorts and your shirt?”

Frankie nodded with a smile. “Please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you chuckled. “And because it’s comfy.”

“I’ll bring a sweater for you in case you get cold too.”

“You just want me in all your clothes, huh?”

Frankie laughed. “I’d very much prefer you without any clothes, but–”

“Okay, get ready or else we’ll never leave.” you said with a smile, gently pushing him for him to turn around and make his way to the bedroom.

While Frankie was changing into much more comfortable clothes, you let out a relieved breath. You had seen how the effect this divorce had on Frankie; some days were rougher than others, but only because Victoria made it a point to make it difficult for him. You could see that he was constantly in thought, especially on days where he would come home quiet and to himself. Part of you had wanted to confront Victoria and tell her to grow up and deal with this like an adult, but you decided that she was just a waste of time and she wasn’t worthy of yours.

You had gotten a job a month after losing the one at the university. You were working at a community college, teaching literature to students who were only there for a general ed requirement. It was different and nothing like what you were used to when you were working at the university, but you were still grateful for the opportunity to have a job, still teaching a subject that you loved. It also helped that you had Frankie to come home to every day.

You were excited, hopeful for your future with Frankie. It finally felt like all the pieces were coming together, that now you both had the chance to be with each other like you were supposed to be. Frankie always gave you butterflies, no matter what he was doing, and whenever he looked at you, you always felt your heart skip a beat. You knew that he was the man you were meant to be with, the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, and it felt good knowing that you now had the opportunity to be with him, forever. He had practically implied that he was going to marry you and while he hadn’t proposed yet, it still excited you to know that it was going to happen at any moment.

With your back facing the hallway, you gasped when you felt Frankie gently smack your backside. You turned around and looked up at him, biting your lower lip almost instantly at the sight of him. He was wearing a denim button-up shirt with the sleeves folded to his elbows and a dark t-shirt underneath with a pair of jeans, and as always, he was wearing his Standard Heating Oil hat. He smiled at you mischievously and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you flush against him.

“You slap me again and I’m taking you to the bedroom,” you warned.

Frankie ran his tongue across his lower lip and winked. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

You smiled, moving your hands to his shoulders. “How about we get some food, watch the sunset, and then come back home for some–”

“Fun?” he grinned.

“Exactly,” you smiled, pecking his lips. “I love you.”

Frankie smiled. “I love you too, hermosa. Let’s go.”

—

You were both now sitting on the sand with a hamburger in each of your hands. The sun hadn’t yet begun to set, so you both were leaning against each other, taking a bite of your food. You always felt like the beach was a place where you and Frankie went to when the reality of life became too much; the beach and the sunset always managed to keep you both grounded, to remind you both to slow down and breathe.

“I can’t finish my food,” you said with a sigh. “It’s too much.”

Frankie chuckled, finishing his food and taking your burger in his hands. “It’s a good thing I’m here then, aren’t I?”

“It’s why I keep you around,” you teased.

“And here I thought you kept me around because you love me, hermosa.”

“Eh, maybe just a little bit.” you grinned, looking over at him. Frankie chuckled and took a couple of bites of your burger before wrapping it back up to put back in the bag. He wrapped his arm around you, feeling you lean against his side as the sun slowly began to set.

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. “For sticking by me, hermosa.”

You looked up at him and smiled, pecking his lips. “I told you I’d always be here and I never break my promises.”

Frankie smiled to himself. The sun was beginning to set and was casting a perfect glow around you and Frankie felt like he had fallen in love all over again. He used his free hand to rest over his pocket, feeling the velvet box inside before he stood up, taking you with him.

“Dance with me?” Frankie asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Always,” you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, swaying side to side with him to the sounds of waves and distant laughter. You were looking deeply into his eyes, biting your lower lip as you leaned up to peck his lips. “I’m just so happy…”

“Me too, hermosa,” he whispered, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “It’s always been you… And I’m sorry that it’s taken this long.”

“The things that happened, were meant to happen,” you replied. “Because at the end of it all, we found our way back to each other.”

Frankie let out a contented sigh. “I was so hesitant when Santiago told me he was setting me up,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “I fought him on it for weeks, but we both know how persistent he can be…”

You listened, biting your lower lip as your bodies continued to sway with one another. “Oh, I know it,” you giggled.

“But when I saw you for the first time…” Frankie smiled. “I knew I was done for. Your big eyes looked at me in a way that no one ever had before,” he admitted. “You looked at me like I mattered… That no matter what I had done in my life preceding you, it didn’t define me.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes, staring up at him. “I was so nervous,” you smiled. “You were so handsome and I thought you were way out of my league.”

Frankie rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re the one out of my league, hermosa.” He pecked your lips softly and continued. “Pope knew exactly what he was doing when he set us up,” Frankie chuckled. “Because he knew, before the both of us, that we were meant to be with each other. You’re my other half, hermosa. I’ve told you plenty of times that you make me want to be a better man and I mean every single word.”

You bit your lower lip as you both stopped swaying, still just holding each other and taking comfort in being in each other’s arms.

“And I told you that I don’t want to waste any more time…” he began, pulling away to grab the box from his pocket before he knelt down on one knee. Frankie had removed his hat and looked up at you, seeing the smile lining your lips as you wiped at your eyes.

“Frankie…”

“I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m not going to promise that it’s going to be easy, but I will promise that I’ll be by your side no matter what. I promise to fight for us, no matter how hard it gets. From the moment we met, it was always you.” Frankie then opened the velvet box to reveal the engagement ring he had chosen with the guys earlier that day.

“I love you so much, hermosa. I want to spend the rest of my life with you… I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I see when I go to sleep. I want to continue to laugh with you, to cry, to make more memories with you…”

You gasped at the ring, the sun hitting it just right to cast a twinkle against the diamond.

“Yes!” you said immediately. “Yes, yes.” Tears were falling from your eyes as you wiped them away with a quiet chuckle.

“I didn’t ask yet,” Frankie smiled.

“Oh–”

“Will you marry me, hermosa?” he interrupted, staring up at you with those deep brown eyes that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you repeated, kneeling down in front of him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders to press your lips against his. Immediately, you moved your lips with his, smiling against him. Frankie had to pull away enough to take your left hand once he took the ring from the box. He looked down at your hand and slowly slid the ring onto your ring finger, smiling instantly.

“Perfect fit,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you said, pecking his lips. You looked down at the ring and smiled to yourself, tears still trickling down your cheeks. It was a yellow gold band with several small diamonds with an oval diamond on topic, sparkling against the setting sun. “It’s so beautiful, Frankie.”

“You like it?” he asked, biting his lower lip.

“I love it, but you know me… I would’ve been happy with anything.”

Frankie smiled, pecking your lips softly before he stood up with you. “I know, but you deserve something as beautiful as you and the minute I saw this ring, I knew it belonged to you.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you whispered.

“Funny you should say that,” Frankie said quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Because I feel the same way and…” he whispered, “I think you saved me, hermosa.”

You bit your lower lip, shaking your head. “You saved yourself, Frankie,” you whispered, running your hands along his arms. “I was just here so you didn’t lose your way.”

Frankie sighed contentedly, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re my dream come true, hermosa. You have no idea how much I love you…”

“Oh, I’ve got some idea,” you teased, lifting your hand to show him the ring. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Frankie.”

“Let’s go home and celebrate?” he winked, wiggling his brows together.

“Yes, please,” you grinned.

—

Once back at the apartment, Frankie was quick to lead you down the hall and towards the bedroom. His hands were on your waist, peppering kisses along your neck as he pressed himself against you. You leaned back against him, resting your head against his chest to expose more of your neck for him.

You couldn’t believe it. It still felt so surreal to know that you were now Frankie’s fiancée and you couldn’t wait to just spend the rest of your life with him. Your best memories were with Frankie and despite all of the challenges you both faced, you were just so happy to finally get another chance with him.

Frankie’s hands moving underneath your shirt brought you out of your thoughts, feeling his rough fingertips graze upwards to brush his thumbs against each nipple. You arched your back against him, biting your lower lip at the sensation.

“You weren’t wearing a bra?” he whispered against you.

“I never do whenever I wear your shirts,” you replied, letting out a quiet whimper.

“Fuck me,” Frankie groaned, turning you around and slowly lifting the shirt over your head to reveal your bare front. Frankie licked his lips at the sight of you, gently backing you towards the mattress. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit your knees, you fell back onto it with Frankie climbing on top of you.

Frankie moved his hands to your shorts, gently pulling them down your legs until you were now completely naked below him. He pulled back enough to let his eyes take you in, growling at the sight as he stood to undo his pants, kicking them off to the side. Frankie pulled off his denim button up, followed by shirt until he was clad in only his boxers. His manhood was pressing against the thin fabric and he brought a hand down to squeeze himself, his eyes focused solely on you.

“Get over here,” you whispered, parting your legs.

Frankie licked his lips, watching as your spread legs exposed your sex. He pushed down his boxers, letting out a quiet breath at the relieved pressure before he climbed back on the bed, settling himself between your legs. Frankie couldn’t wait; he didn’t want to take his time like he normally did. Instead, he just wanted to revel in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“Frankie, please,” you whimpered, feeling the head of his member brush against your opening.

He smiled, grasping his member and slowly pushing past your folds. Frankie kept his eyes on you, watching as you let out a quiet moan. He saw you move your hands to his chest, his eyes catching a glint of your ring and he smiled to himself, pushing further into you as your tight and warm walls wrapped around his manhood like a vice.

“Fuck, hermosa,” Frankie whispered, his hands resting at either side of your head. Slowly, he pulled his hips back only to push back into you, continuing the slow thrusts.

“Frankie,” you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist. His slow movements were just as effective as his rough and fast thrusts, but this felt more intimate. Your eyes were locked onto his, the sounds of your moans mixing in with his as the feel of his member continued to slide in and out of your depths.

He lowered himself to rest his forehead against yours, lips brushing against you ever so slightly as his movements picked up. Frankie always loved to hear the sounds of your moans, the way his name escaped your lips; he took pride in knowing that he knew how to make you feel good and now he was going to get to do it for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he whispered against you, moving both hands to grip your hips as his own drove into you repeatedly.

“Oh god, Frankie,” you moaned as your eyes fell shut at the feeling of getting closer and closer to your climax. Frankie just knew exactly what to say and what to do to get you to the edge of your orgasm and this time was no different. Your bodies moved in tandem with one another, breaths against each other’s lips, moans escaping quietly. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your fingernails digging into his skin at his upper back.

Frankie groaned against you, pecking your lips lightly before he buried his face against the crook of your neck, rolling his hips against yours. His fingertips dug into your hips as he felt your walls slowly begin to tighten even further around his manhood, throbbing against you. He knew you were close, so he gently nipped at your skin along the side of your neck as he pulled out to his tip only to slam into you. He repeated this motion several times, the sound of skin slapping against one another beginning to echo off the four walls of the bedroom.

“Frankie!” you moaned loudly, tightening your legs around his hips to keep him still as you reached your high.

Frankie let out a moan, feeling your walls milk his manhood to his own release. He pulled back enough to look down at you, gripping your hips as he began to quicken his own movements. He watched as your body bounced against his own with his rapid thrusts, becoming more erratic.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, hermosa,” he moaned, slamming into you once more as he released in your depths. His body shook slightly and he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.

You smiled to yourself, running your fingertips lightly along your back, brushing against the scratches you left. Frankie shuddered against you and pulled back to peck your lips, looking deeply into your eyes.

“You and me forever?” you asked with hopeful eyes.

Frankie brought a hand to brush his thumb across your cheek and whispered quietly, said quietly, “Forever, hermosa.”

---

Epilogue.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi. @bitchwitch1981. @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24, @gracie7209, @your-voice-is-mellifluous, @mikeyswifie

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put-me-out-of-my-destiny · 5 months

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Family is an important theme in every DMC game. Dante and Vergil are always grappling with Sparda and Eva's legacy, and now Nero has to deal with Dante and Vergil's baggage. It seems DMC characters tend to have complicated relationships with their parents, and the supporting characters are no exception.

Lady is an obvious example. She became a devil hunter in DMC3 because her father, Arkham, murdered her mother in a bid for demonic power. Near the end of the game, Lady kills Arkham, which a line in DMC5 suggests has weighed heavily on her since. On the note of family, an ancestor of Lady's happened to be a priestess who aided Sparda in a ritual to seal away the demon world.

Side note, I've been told it's canon that this ritual killed her, but that doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sparda didn't have to give a lethal amount of blood for the sake of the ritual, and Lady didn't give a lethal amount of blood to break it. Neither did Dante or Vergil, for that matter. It means little either way, the sacrifice was almost certainly willing, and she'd be long dead by the present anyway, but it still bugs me a little.

Trish doesn't really have parents in the traditional sense, but she was created by someone: Mundus. But Mundus saw her as expendable, easily recreated, little more than a tool to lure Dante to his death. Ultimately, Trish aided Dante in defeating him, and she became a devil hunter herself.

Trish was also made in the image of Dante's mother, Eva. While Trish never met the woman, it's an undeniable fact that Trish wouldn't exist in the same capacity without her - one could also consider her to be a parent to Trish, or at least like some kind of magical sperm donor.

Wether you choose to look at it that way or not, Trish has definitely endured both Dante and Vergil (as V) projecting their feelings about Eva onto her, though the former seems to have gotten over that, and the latter hasn't interacted with her much at all. Despite this, Trish continues using Eva's face, even though she can change her appearance.

On the subject of Dante, one could assume that she was adopted into his family in some way, given that she was trusted to wield Sparda's sword and his pistols. She carries his legacy just as much as Dante does, even though she doesn't share his blood.

Lucia, like Trish, was artificially made, in her case by a human sorcerer named Arius. Mundus only remarked that he could easily recreate Trish, but Arius actually proved it - Lucia is one of many "secretary" demons, and a defective one at that. She was discarded by Arius, and adopted by Matier, who raised Lucia as her own daughter. Later, Matier directly states that Lucia being adopted doesn't diminish their relationship, and that shared history is more important than blood.

Learning of her true nature was disastrous for Lucia: believing she would eventually become a threat to innocent people, she attacked Dante and demanded that he kill her. She later volunteers for a suicide mission because she sees herself as "expendable". I'm not aware that she ever came to terms with these feelings, and I wonder what would become of her if she no longer had Matier to support her.

I suspect that Nero and Kyrie's dynamic - as it's been said, Nero wouldn't be so well-adjusted without her - would be relatable to Lucia.

Moving on from characters who've been playable (so far), Nico's parentage is extremely important. Her father is Agnus, a scientist who created many kinds of artificial demons for the Order of the Sword, even becoming one himself. Agnus abandoned Nico at an early age, and when her mother died, she was adopted by her uncle, Rock Goldstein, who happens to be the son of Nell Goldstein, the gunsmith who made Ebony and Ivory. Nico became a gunsmith herself, and later used her biological father's research for the benefit of a devil hunter, Nero.

Finally, Kyrie's parents were killed before the events of DMC4, so the only family she had left was her brother Credo. In that game, Credo turns out to have become a demon, and to be involved in a plot by her religious organization to open hell gates in Fortuna to draw out and destroy demons (or something). Once Kyrie is used as bait to capture Nero, Credo turns on his superiors, and is promptly killed for it. Suffice to say, Kyrie must have some very complicated feelings about her family, as well as her religion, but such feelings haven't been made known.

It's also worth noting that Kyrie, along with Nero, has taken in three children - Kyle, Carlo, and Julio - further continuing the theme of adopted family.

With the exception of Lady, all of the characters above have some relationship with an adopted or chosen family. With the exception of Lady and Kyrie, all of them have had apathetic father figures who abandoned, discarded, or used them.

So if we ever get that female-led spinoff game (and it's actually any good), then family should be a major theme. But unlike the main series, this entry should have an additional emphasis on chosen families. And whatever tangible threat the cast faces, it should be one that can be a vehicle to explore those themes.

#devil may cry #my thoughts #lady dmc #trish dmc #lucia dmc #nico dmc #nicoletta goldstein #kyrie dmc #quen speaking

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thelost-in-time · 2 years

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could you do yelan and sara comforting reader after a breakdown or bad day? plus points if it involves cuddles :v

I got you, and I hope you're doing well. Thank you for the request.

Added Shenhe, Diluc, Xiao and Albedo.

Requests are open!

Shelter from the storm

Yelan, Sara, Shenhe, Diluc, Xiao and Albedo comforting you after a bad day/breakdown.

Warnings: Breakdowns, implied depression and anxiety, implied intrusive thoughts.

Genre: Comfort, angst to fluff

Yelan

Miss Yelan and you were both out and about on this fine day, well, a fine day in her opinion.

She did her usual work that Ningguang had asked of her to do, but she waited for the clock to tick by faster so she could get to see you again.

Unfortunately for you though, your day was less fine, for you had been low the entire day.

Actually, scratch that, you have been low the entire week— or was it longer? You couldn't tell at this point.

All you knew is that as the day dragged on, your energy levels kept dropping more and more until you were almost depleted of energy.

So when you finally got the chance to go home, you couldn't help but thank the Lord of Geo, and question him

"Dear Rex Lapis, please tell me why I've been feeling this way for a while? Why does it feel like I'm constantly in a storm? Or fighting a storm?"

You had asked the vast purplish, orangish sky, but had gotten no response from Morax.

You could only stare at the setting sun, your eyes dull as a numbing feeling was settled in your chest, where your heart was beating painfully.

You didn't hear Yelan walk up behind you, instead only feeling her arms snake around your waist, snapping you out from your endless thoughts.

"You've been staring at the sky for a while now. Did you discover a bird you like? Or are you captivated by the sunset?"

Yelan asks you, a smile tugging on her lips as she carefully places a kiss on your arm, but frowned when you made no move to look at her.

"What's the matter, my butterfly? Something eating away at you?"

Her voice was now more gentle, more softer as she turned you around slowly and gently, to get a good look at your face.

"Oh.. nothing, Yelan, don't worry about me."

Came the reply she wasn't looking for, a strained smile appearing on your face that didn't meet your eyes.

Alarms began ringing in Yelan's head before she wrapped an arm around your waist, gently leading you into your shared home and to your bedroom.

"My butterfly... how are you really? Please, talk to me, I'm right here for you. I'm your support, and I'll never stop supporting you."

Yelan's words and her gentle voice was enough to make the storm let its heavy rains pour down.

You began crying, sobbing uncontrollably while shaking violently.

Yelan pulled you close gently, letting you rest your head on her chest while she cradled your fragile being.

She let you sob as much as you needed to, gently rubbing your back as she held you closer, her hold protective and comforting.

She didn't say anything while you sobbed, rather choosing to let you cry it all out while giving you silent reassurances that she's there.

Once you were more calm, hiccuping softly as you attempted to wipe your tears, Yelan reached over for an glass, filled with water, on your table.

"Here. Drink some water. You can become dehydrated after having a breakdown, which leads to headaches."

And you drink the water, although shakily, until Yelan helps to feed you the water.

"My little butterfly, I know you've been struggling a lot, and work has been absolute hell for you, but I'm here. Your girlfriend Yelan will never let you go."

She tells you, her voice gentle yet firm as she gently cups your face and kisses the top of your head.

Yelan chooses to cuddle with you that night, holding you close to her while keeping your needs and comfort in mind

Surprises you with breakfast in the morning.

Yelan truly was your shelter in the storm within yourself.

Sara

Sara knew what crappy days at work looked like, after all, she had to get the Arataki Gang arrested for violating the rules for the fifth time that week.

But when she stopped by your workplace for a routinely check up on you (and to see how things were going), she stopped.

She noticed you trying to hold back tears, your eyes dull and hand shaking as you worked. Almost as if you... got yelled at.

Sara saw red at the thought, but not towards you, and yet she composed herself enough to approach you with a loving smile.

"Might I steal you away from work today? I need you to assist me with a task from the Shogun herself."

And who would dare defy Kujou Sara herself, aka, the one who takes her job seriously enough to unleash her anger onto anyone who dares step in her way?

So you followed her out, one of her hands gently resting itself on your back as she led you wherever she wished.

Sara matched her steps with yours, gazing at you with concern before she led you to a secluded area.

"My little Raven, tell me what's happened."

Sara speaks softly, moving to gently cup your face with her hands, having pulled her gloves off to hold your face in her bare hands.

The imaginary string holding your tears back snapped, and you couldn't stop the warm, salty tears from running down your face.

Sara gently wiped your tears away, moving to instead hold you close so you can cry against her while she hid you from the view of others.

Or to keep you safe from the rest of the world.

"I keep ruining everything! I'm not good at anything, I-I can't do my job properly, I'm not good at studying stuff, I-I-I'm j-ju-just useless!"

You cried, and Sara felt her heart clench and sink at the same time upon hearing your words.

She hates how your mind makes you feel so worthless, so she holds you closer, kissing the top of your head.

"My little Raven, please, try and breathe. You're almost having a breakdown, and while it's okay, I don't want you feeling physically weak."

Sara mumbles against your ear, her voice calming and patient, gently rubbing your back as she tries to soothe you.

But you weren't able to calm down, no matter how hard you tried, it just resulted in you hiccuping as you tried to retrain your sobs, and Sara noticed.

She sighed softly, opting to sit down with you and cradle you close, trying her best to soothe you.

Holding you in her arms and slightly rocking you, Sara had no idea how to properly comfort anyone, but she knew you always appreciated her efforts.

"If you are unable to prevent your breakdown, then let it out. I'll take care of you."

Sara told you, her golden eyes showing concern as she held you closer, and as you looked up at her with teary eyes, you saw it.

Sara gently wiped your tears, whispering soothing words for you to hear as she cradled you close.

Once you calmed down enough, Sara helped you up and began carefully leading you somewhere, passing a food stall.

"You hungry?"

She asked you softly, glancing at you, only to see you shake your head.

You weren't hungry, and you most certainly wouldn't be able to eat after a breakdown without feeling like throwing up.

Sara frowned slightly and called one of the soldiers that served under her, and ordered them to tell your boss that you'd get the rest of the day off by order of the Shogun.

Ei standing in the corner, trying to get some dango milk and just hearing all the lies but letting it pass because you're Sara's s/o

Sara then leads you home, moving to carry you home instead once you almost fell a couple of times, your legs feeling like jelly.

Upon leading you in the house, she carefully sets you down on the bed and moves to run you a bath, only for you to gently tug her hand, silently pleading for her to stay.

Sara gently moved to kiss your forehead, then gently leaned her forehead against yours.

"It's okay. I'm not leaving you."

She said, but you pulled her closer, not wanting to feel alone in the moment, not even for a minute.

Sara gave you a reassuring smile and moved to cuddle with you instead, holding you close as letting you rest your head on her chest.

"I'm here. I will shelter you from any storm you might come across."

Shenhe

Shenhe was out doing some errands for her (adopted) mother, known to all as Cloud Retainer.

That's when Shenhe almost literally bumped into your tired and kind of zoned out self, standing in front of Wanmin Restaurant.

"Magpie? What's the matter? Why do you seem more of a zombie than Qiqi?"

Shenhe asked.... kind of bluntly, but not with any malice in her words, just concern she couldn't express properly.

And yet you had not even acknowledged her presence just yet, still off in your own world, feeling numb.

It was not until Shenhe placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, that you flinched, and snapped out of it.

"O-oh! Shenhe! When did you get here?"

You asked her somewhat nervously, avoiding eye contact with her as your eyes darted from side to side, looking for a distraction.

"Just now actually. Why do you seem so.... dazed?"

Shenhe asked, gently placing her hands on both your shoulders, scanning over your form briefly.

"Did someone hurt you?"

She asked, grip tightening a bit, but not enough to hurt you, causing you to finally meet her gaze, startled.

"N-no! Not at all!"

You exclaimed, trying to reassure her that she did not have to punch anyone in the face today, or break anyone's arms.

"Then what's the issue?"

Shenhe asked, blinking almost owlishly as she awaited a response from you, watching you nervously play with your fingers.

You then sighed before meeting her gaze once more, a slight frown on your face.

"I just.... had a bad day."

You admitted, and Shenhe abruptly pulled you into a hug, a hug that was comforting and protective.

Shenhe had learned how to hug because you had taught her how to, showed her how to love.

"I get that. Do you wanna talk about it?"

She asked you, moving slightly to look at you, only for you to bury yourself against her more, craving her hold.

"Not right now."

You mumbled to her, holding her a bit tighter as she moved to place a kiss to your shoulder.

"That's fine too."

Shenhe said before glancing around the area, Xiangling catching her eye before she glanced over to you once more.

"Would you like some ice cream? Chongyun once mentioned how ice cream helps a lot of people feel better."

You hesitated, glancing up to meet her gaze that hid her gentleness deep down.

"...I'd like that. Yeah."

You said with a nod, causing Shenhe to let out a satisfied hum before calling Xiangling over to ask her to make you ice cream.

Once your ice-cream was ready, Shenhe talking to you about anything she knew would make you feel happy, she held the treat to you.

"Here. Have some ice-cream."

She said, and when you took it, she pulled you onto her lap, startling you as she held you close.

This was normal between you two by now, because Shenhe liked having you on her lap.

And after you offered her your ice-cream so she could get a taste, a very faint pink hue dusted her cheeks.

But other than treating you to ice-cream, Shenhe also allowed you to drag her places you liked, watching with a satisfied look when your mood slowly picked up.

Loads of cuddles from her that night, she's clingy, but she's extra clingy when one of you are down in the dumps.

Diluc

Diluc was at Flora's flower shop, passing by before deciding to get you something, ignoring Donna gushing over him.

The sun had already set, and the starry skies revealed to tease people of secrets the stars knew, but wouldn't tell.

"Oh, Master Diluc!"

A sing-song voice that made him want to rip his hair out was heard, the voice of his brother, Cavalry Captain Kaeya.

"Sir Kaeya. Still looking for any horses around Mondstadt?"

Diluc asked, eyes narrowed as Kaeya playfully gapsed in mock offense. Or was that actual offense?

"How rude of you, Diluc. All I wanted to tell you was that your partner is near the Barbatos statue by the Cathedral."

Kaeya said, slightly crossing his arms with a shrug, Diluc immediately locking the information in his mind.

With narrowed eyes and a grumbled thanks, the young Master made his way to the giant Barbatos statue.

Only to see that you weren't there.

Did Kaeya lie to him? Or did you finally climb the statue after joking with him for so long that you would?

He decided to climb up and check for himself, and then work based on his results.

So when he finally reached the hands of Barbatos and saw you standing on the hands, sobs echoing in the wind, he gently pulled you close.

Pulled you into his arms, wrapping his coat around you and maybe crushing the flowers in his coat.

"My dove, why are you crying? What happened?"

Diluc's soft and gentle voice asked you, gently wiping your tears away as you kept sobbing, trying to stop.

But you couldn't. You just couldn't, for you had a bad day, a bad week actually.

Diluc knew you were going to break one day, he just didn't know that day would come so soon.

It reminded him of how he was in a simpler time, a time where everyone knew about young Diluc's gentle heart.

"It's okay. Cry as much as you need to. I'm here. I'll keep you safe."

Diluc murmured softly to you, allowing you to cry as much as you needed to, moving to carefully sit down with you.

Diluc cradled you in his arms, rocking you both slightly in an attempt to try and help you feel better, staying away from the edge.

When your crying had yet to slow down, Diluc hummed you a soft song that his father used to sing for him and Kaeya when they were upset or scared.

And once you were starting to calm down, soft hiccups escaping your lips along with soft whimpers, Diluc pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Do you want to accompany me back home? You look like you need some well deserved rest."

Diluc asked, and once you agreed, he carefully got you both down to solid ground and was ready to walk home with you.

But you tugged on his sleeve, a tired look on your face as Diluc looked over at you.

"I'm tired. Carry me?"

You asked, and Diluc smiled slightly before moving to carry you on his back, making sure you were secure as he felt your cheek against his back.

"As you wish, my dove."

Diluc said before walking home with you resting on his back, and of course, home would be the Dawn Winery.

A home only because you made it feel like a home.

Diluc didn't miss how your breathing had gotten more even, showing that you were asleep. He didn't blame you.

And once arriving at the Dawn Winery, he did his best to ensure that your sleep would not be disturbed, but alas, you woke up when he stopped.

"Are we home yet?"

You asked him in a mumble, Diluc moving to gently set you down and hold you close again.

"We're home. Would you like to go to bed now or—"

"I want to spend more time with you."

You interrupted him, and Diluc smiled gently at you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips before he kisses your hand.

"Then might I interest you in a new juice blend I've been making recently?"

Diluc asked, and your eager nod was all he needed before placing his jacket on you and moving to make you his latest concoction.

You finally noticed the slightest squashed flowers in his jacket, the gesture enough to make you smile as you placed it in a vase of water.

And when Diluc arrived, you drank your juice as he held you by the fireplace, and carried you to bed with him when you had fallen asleep again.

Xiao

Darling Adeptus Xiao was always watching over you to make sure that you'd be okay no matter what happened, and so no danger fell upon you.

His eyes narrowed when he saw how your excitement gradually fell through the day.

From a bright expression to a defeated look and slumped shoulders, he saw it all everytime he stopped by during his patrol breaks.

A skip in your step became you slowly walking, borderline dragging your feet from exhaustion, and he wasn't having it.

The Traveller was surprised when they found that Xiao was the one who commissioned them, but saw that it was for you.

Xiao asked the Traveller to deliver to you his signature dish, Sweet Dreams, to try and uplift your mood while glaring at Paimon as a warning.

And when you saw his signature dish delivered to you, it was as if a light pierced through the darkness enveloping you.

Thanking the Traveller, you went to a secluded area just outside the city, and called for Xiao to come and join you.

And he immediately was by your side, sitting next to you shoulder to shoulder, looking at you with a soft gaze.

"You called?"

He asked, smiling when he noticed the look of tired joy on your face, a joy because of him that eased your sadness away a bit.

"Would you like to eat with me?"

You asked, offering him some of his Almond Tofu, but Xiao simply chuckled, placing a Crystalfly in your hair.

(Or a Qingxing flower behind your ear. Your pick)

"You eat. I'll have some later. I made this for you."

Xiao told you, smiling lovingly at you as he met your gaze, moving to kiss your cheek gently.

"But I want to share even a bit with you."

You mumbled, and Xiao's heart began to flutter, but he silently scolded himself before the heat on his face became visible in a blush.

It was not the time to get flustered, not yet.

"Alright, I'll be happy to share some with you then."

Xiao said, grabbing the spoon and took some of the food before moving to feed you instead.

"I'm going to feed you. You're okay with that, right?"

Xiao asked you, but you eating from the spoon he held towards you was just the answer that he had needed from you.

"It will be night soon. Would you like to stargaze with me?"

Xiao asked you, softly, initiating the conversation so that he can cheer you up, for Xiao was not much of a talker until it came to you.

"Yeah. I would really like that."

You tell him with a mumble, Xiao still feeding you before kissing your forehead.

"I once heard a mortal say that the stars hold the destinies of people. I don't believe that myself, but if it's true, I hope the stars show a brighter future for you."

Xiao told you softly, making you want to cry again, but this time from how sweet his words were. Sweeter than his dish.

You hugged him, and Xiao couldn't help but return the hug, holding you close as you tightly grabbed onto his shirt to compose yourself.

Xiao teleported you both to the Wangshu Inn balcony, where he always stood.

There laid a blanket on the ground, as if he was planning on stargazing with you all along.

And so, laying down with him, the young adeptus pulled you close and watched the stars with you.

"If you ever find yourself overwhelmed and wish for an escape, speak my name. I'll gladly come to rescue you."

He truly was a shelter from the storms you faced at times, your comfort.

Albedo

Chief Alchemist Albedo, known as Big Brother to Klee

He's well versed in human social cues from studying a textbook on psychology and from watching Kaeya work on shared work stuff.

So when he bumps into you while out in Mondstadt for once, he scans over your form.

Dried tears, puffy eyes, shaky breathes and your voice slightly hoarse when speaking.

Yeah, he knows you just finished a breakdown not too long ago.

"Something you'd like to talk about?"

Albedo asks you, tone soft as he watches your gaze dart off to the side, signalling you being uncomfortable.

"No.."

Came your response, and Albedo nodded slightly before reaching out to wipe whatever tear had yet to dry up.

"Then would you be willing to accompany me out to lunch? I'm just getting a small snack."

He asked you oh so sweetly, and you couldn't bring yourself to decline when you saw his smile. Except...

"I'd rather try your cooking."

Albedo smiled sweetly at you and moved to gently hold your hand, a warmth that was almost calming.

"Then I'll make something for us to eat. I'll make you your favourite food."

Albedo tells you, placing a kiss to the back of your hand before gently leading you to follow him, leading you home, which was coincidentally close by.

And as Albedo began cooking for you, he hummed a gentle song that he used whenever he needed to soothe Klee.

It seemed to soothe you too, even a bit, and Albedo was satisfied by the outcome of his humming.

He didn't force a conversation with you, knowing you may not be willing to talk, but he did break the silence occasionally.

"Still hungry? It won't be too long now."

"Anything you want me to add?"

Questions like that were what he had asked you in order to not overwhelm you, but when the silence, a heavy silence, dragged on a bit too long for his liking, he spoke again.

"You're not alone, you know?"

"Even if it feels like the burdens of the world is crashing on you, you're never alone."

"I'm here, my love. I'll share the burdens with you."

"And when you find yourself getting tired and unsure if carrying on is worth it, I'll be here to carry you and take care of you."

"You're never alone. I'm here by your side, I'll carry you if you find yourself falling."

Albedo's words made you tear, sobs returning to you as you cried at his caring and gentle words, words you needed to hear.

He halts cooking for a moment to hold you close, gently wiping your tears away as you cling to him for dear life.

It feels soothing. Calming. Safe

He holds you close for as long as you need him to, kissing your tears away too, and humming the song almost long forgotten.

And upon noticing you were calmer, he finished cooking, took the food to cool down before moving to the couch.

Setting you down, he followed, and cradled you close.

"Albedo?"

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you. And I love you."

"I love you too."

And when he noticed you fall asleep during your cuddle session, he carried you to bed, making sure not to wake you, and layed with you.

Whispering a promise to you to always be your shelter from the storm you faced while holding you close.

And Albedo finally allowed himself to drift to sleep with you too, the food he prepared ready for you both to eat when you would awake.

End

Reblogs, positive comments and follows are more than welcome.

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