#please please please please please please tommy please i'm on my knees i need to see my boy again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

burnthatbridge · 10 days

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if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know)

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious. “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all.

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed.

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled.

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress.

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul.

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it.

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t.

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission.

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else.

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to.

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him.

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie.

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.”

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it.

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them.

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.”

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next?#or is it good as is?#these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me)#buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

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pedge-page · 2 months

Note

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

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work

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

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

18+ ONLY:

- - - -

He knows he fucked up too. Big time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gulps hard.

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

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

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

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

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

You do nothing.

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

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

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

So it’s gonna be like that.

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

“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did NOT deserve this bullshit.

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

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

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

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

Fat chance tonight.

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

None of it sways you any differently.

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

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

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

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

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

A start, he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You try going down on—“

“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”

“She didn’t like it?”

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

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

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

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

“Hi there.”

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

Joel politely smiles back with a little nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiiiiiiii!”

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

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

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

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

“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.

You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m his wife.”

“Ah—I—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That right? Even these last few days?”

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

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

“Mmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

😳

- - - -

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

conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot

Permanent taglist:

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 month

Text

Baby Love | Joel Miller

A Trial & Error One Shot

Summary | It's coming to the end of lambing season, but there's one sheep left to give birth. Noticing she's struggling, you spend the night trying to soothe her, reflecting on your own experiences in her position.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Warnings | Joel & Pretty Girl are still as horny as ever for each other so this is explicit. Mentions of ranching, sheep and animals giving birth. Mentions of human childbirth and pregnancy (I have never had my own children so please go easy on me), also mentions of how dirty it is when a sheep gives birth (blood/guts ect). Explicit smut including oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV smut IN THE BARN, creampie, Joel being a menace, PRETTY GIRL ALSO BEING A MENACE. No use of Y/N, no-outbreak AU.

Authors Note | It has been such a joy to write Pretty Girl again, I've missed her something terrible, and I'm so happy that the dynamic between her and Joel is still going strong, even if I have abandoned them for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and if there are any aspects of this families lives that you'd like to see, feel free to request it in my ask box!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Lambing season is coming to an end - something you’re eternally grateful for. It’s been a busy few weeks - early mornings and late nights for both Joel and Tommy, leaving you with the twins, Joshua and Ellie to keep entertained. Not that you’d have it any other way - your dysfunctional little family makes you happy every day.

With Joshua at school and the twins with Joel as he took Ellie into town for an appointment, you’re out in the fields with Tommy, making sure the remaining sheep yet to give birth are doing alright. You don’t profess to being an expert, but you’d like to think that your motherly instincts can go beyond humans, knowing when certain sheep are due and when some of them are starting to struggle.

It’s been an easy lambing season this year - most of the girls are seasoned professionals by now, needing only a light touch and a refill of their water more than anything, but there’s one sheep you are worried about. She was from lambing season a few years ago and this will be her first time. When you head into the barn, she’s stood in the corner of one of the pens, moving very little but bleating every once in a while. You know it’ll happen soon, but you’re worried about her.

“Don’t worry your head, sugar,” Tommy soothes, running a hand down the back of your head when it’s time to leave, “It’s nature, she’ll know what to do.”

But, led in bed that night, there’s something that you can’t push from the back of your mind. This worry that takes over you. She’ll be on her own in there, being one of the very last to give birth, and what if she’s scared? What if something goes wrong? You remember how scared you’d been when it came to having Joshua.

So you sigh, push back the sheets, and get dressed. You leave Tommy a note in case he wakes in the night and worries about where you are. You can’t say the horses in the small stable next to the house are enthused about having a torched shined at them in the middle of the night, but thankfully yours doesn’t put up much fuss when you saddle it and make the journey through the dark fields to the barn.

Flicking on the lights, you’re immediately glad you came. The sheep in question is led on her side, breathing laboured and fast. As you walk towards her, she kicks her legs a little and lets out a pained bleat.

“I know baby,” You coo, making sure the gate is shut behind you, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

You fall to your knees in the soft hay a little way from her, hoping not to spook her, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence. She’s led down near the wall, so you crawl over a little and lean your back against it, stretching your legs out, just to be near her if she needs you.

The sheep lets out another pained bleat but she moves a little, up from her side and onto her feet. She walks closer to you, leaning down to prod your hand with her nose. You let out a little chuckle, letting your hand run down her head. The ranch dog likes when you scratch behind his ears, so you do the same here, which has her settling back down onto her side with her head on your thigh.

“It’s one of the most wonderful things,” You speak to her softly, continuing to pet at her head, “Having babies, but they always forget to mention how much it fucking hurts.”

She lets out another soft bleat, moving her body a little to get comfortable, or as comfortable as is possible when you’re in labour.

Watching her, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your experience in her position. The first twinges of pain, low in your back that turned into pain everywhere. There wasn't a single position that was comfortable, no way to sit or lie or stand that could take the pain away. Then there was the exhaustion - after hours of waiting and more time pushing and pushing, there were moments when you didn’t think you could do it anymore, that you’d just close your eyes, drift off and wake up with a lovely, healthy baby perched in your arms.

But then, there’s that moment of relief, when the midwife had told you it’s okay honey, one more push and it’ll be done and it was and you could hear him crying and then he was on your chest and you were crying and so was Tommy. No-one ever mentions that bit either - how within seconds you could look down at a baby, your baby, and be completely and utterly in love with him. That’s what made it all worth it. That’s what made you want to do it again. It’s what makes you think you’d do it for the rest of your life if you could, just to have that one moment where that baby is in your arms for the first time.

“It’s worth it though,” You speak down to the sheep, “All this pain will be worth it in the end when we’ve got your beautiful little lamb with us.”

And it is. It’s all a bit dramatic in the end. The lamb gets stuck and you need to offer a helping hand to get it out, but almost immediately the mother sheep is doing exactly what she should, cleaning it off as you do the thing you’ve seen Joel do to help clear it’s airways, sticking a little bit of hay up one of it’s nostrils.

“Look mama,” You coo at the older sheep, a hand on her head as she works to get her little lamb clean, “Look what you did, you clever girl.”

Joel doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the barn that morning, but it certainly wasn’t to see you on your knees in the hay, rubbing a newborn lamb with straw. He can see from this angle that your clothes are filthy, covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you…? Have you….?

“Pretty girl,” He speaks softly, not sure you know he’s there, “What are you doing?”

You turn to him and it’s clear to see you’ve done exactly what he thinks you have and helped this sheep give birth, the gunk all over your clothes is also wiped across your cheek and forehead.

“She-” You trail off, “The sheep, she was struggling and I didn’t want her to be on her own.”

He opens the gate to the pen, walking in to fall beside you on his knees, “Have you been here all night?” He asks, letting his hands give the small lamb the once over.

“Pretty much,” You nod, “We had a lovely talk, didn’t we?” You ask to the mother sheep who is standing a few steps away, carefully observing Joel as he looks at her lamb.

“Did she do okay?”

“I had to get in there at the end,” You explain to him, “I think it was stuck, so I just gave her a little helping hand.”

Once he’s satisfied that the lamb is okay he shuffles back a little, watching as you do the same, letting the mother sheep have some time with her baby, “You did a good job,” He praises, letting his hand run down the back of you head, “Proud of you, pretty girl.”

He helps you to you feet, bends a little to brush as much stray hay from your jeans as he can before he steps back and really takes you in. It’s unconventional, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve got your hands dirty, spent your night here on your own to help one of his sheep, and the fact that you’re covered in dirt and hay, something about it all makes his jeans go a little tighter, something that he’s not quick enough to hide.

“Are you hard, cowboy?” He hears you tease before you’re stepping forward, “Does the sight of me covered in blood and guts turn you on?”

He rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, leaving the pen now he’s satisfied the sheep will be okay, but he can hear your feet following him and then your hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“You’ve not gone all shy on me, have you?” You speak softly, gently moving him so he turns a little.

“Have I ever been shy, pretty girl?”

“Then tell me,” You shrug, smirk plastered across your face, “Does this,” He watches as you drag a hand over the mess that is your clothes, “Turn you on?”

“You wanna know the truth?” He asks, voice low, “I wanna bend you over and get you to shut the hell up.”

Joel can’t help but let his own smirk show when your eyebrows raise, but it’s a fleeting later in your guise, because you’re turning around, showing him your back as you walk towards the stacked bales of hay in the corner. He can hear the clinking of your belt buckle and the telltale sound of you unzipping your jeans.

He’s stuck to the ground as he watches you pull down your jeans and your underwear, baring your backside to him. You pull them all the way down, letting them pool at your ankles as you spread your legs a little wider, bending yourself over the hay in the exact position he had in his head.

“Come on then cowboy,” You say, head turned over your shoulder to speak to him, “Come and shut me the hell up.”

It’s been an automatic response of his for years now, that when you present yourself to him, in any way, he falls to his knees like someone praying to an altar, and today is no different. He’s on his knees behind you, at just the right height to grip his palms to your ass, spread you open wide for him.

He wastes no time, he rarely does anymore, letting his mouth close over the hole of your pussy, somehow already weeping for him. He lets his tongue dip inside, lapping at your slick. It’s been years and he still doesn’t think he’ll get over how good you taste, how it lingers on his tongue for hours whilst he goes about his day.

Whilst he’s lapping up your slick, he lets one of his hands reach around, thumb searching out your clit, little circles rubbed across the little bud. He listens, feeling his cock throb in his jeans when you let out a gasp and a little moan.

“Not so talkative now, are we, pretty girl?” He mumbles, barely pulling off your pussy to speak, before he’s switching his hand and his mouth, leaning just enough so his tongue can flick against your clit, one of his fingers slipping inside you easily.

He chuckles against you when you moan at the curling of his fingers inside you - he loves when he can reduce you to a whimpering mess in seconds. It doesn’t take him long to feel the telltale signs that he’s going to make you come either. He can feel you start to fluttering around the two fingers he now has buried inside you, can feel the way you try and tighten your thighs around his face, so he carries on exactly how he is - suckling at your clit and moving his fingers in and out of your cunt until you’re coming for him, a high-pitched moan of his name from your mouth.

Joel doesn’t wait, he can’t wait. He stands, making quick work of pushing his own jeans and underwear from his body, finally freeing his aching cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He spits obscenely into his palm, running a tight fist up and down his length a few times before he’s dipping his knees, rubbing the head of his cock against the slick hole of your cunt, listening as he pushes himself inside you, giving you every inch of him as slowly as he possibly can, until he’s sheathed inside your tight heat.

He leans forward, covering your body with his own, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he gets used to the feeling of you clenching and fluttering around him. He can feel you wiggling a little under him, trying to get him to move, so he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, squeezing a little, stopping your movements altogether.

“Keep still,” He warns, “You need to keep still a minute, baby.”

There’s never going to be a time where he doesn’t need to do this. The soft, wet heat of your cunt and those first movements inside you that make him feel like he’s eighteen again, ready to come with a few thrusts.

He gives himself another minute before he starts pulling his cock out of you, slowly dragging through your slick until just the tip is left inside you, then he’s slamming himself back into you, setting a bruising pace.

The sound is obscene - there’s the wet squelch he can hear whenever he pushes his cock back into you, the slapping of his skin against yours and the way you both sound when you’re moaning each others names. He’s not going to last long, he knows it. All of this combined with the fact that anyone could wander in and see you has a thrill settling across his spine.

Joel leans forward again, letting his teeth bite down gently on the skin of your neck. He can feel the way your cunt is clenching, if he can just hold on, just a little longer, he can get another one from you, he knows it.

“Tell me,” He chokes out into your ear, “Tell me how to get you there.”

You let out a loud moan, turning your face to his, kissing him, all teeth and tongue and clumsy, “Bite me again.”

So he does, he lets his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking gently, sure to leave a mark, his hand slinking underneath your belly and down to your pussy, soaked bud of nerves exposed just right for him to use his fingers to swirl across it a few times.

“Oh my God-” He can hear you moaning, “Joel, fuck, please, don’t stop, just like that.”

Within seconds, he can feel you coming on his cock - cunt pulled tight, sucking him in. He feels the gush of slick from your pussy too, cock angled just right to have you squirting for him, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. It’s the tightening of your walls around him that sets his own orgasm off - that flush of pleasure across his body that blooms even more as he empties himself inside you. He can feel everything, the way your pussy clenches every time he gives you more, sucking his spend in as deep as possible.

He pushes himself up off you a little, hands on your hips, frantically sucking in air. He groans a little as he pulls himself from your cunt, standing back to admire how his cum drips from you. He doesn’t linger long, bending down to pull your clothes back up, gentle kiss pressed to the swell of your bottom as he does. He lets you zip yourself up whilst he puts himself right.

“Well, that was a great start to the morning.” You muse, pressing up on your tiptoes, gripping at his flannel shirt.

He’s about to speak when there’s a bleating from the sheep in the pen behind you, you both laugh, “Someone else agrees.”

He dips down, kisses your mouth slowly, gently, “Go and get clean,” He speaks against your lips, turning you around and giving you a tap on your ass as he does, “You’re filthy.”

“Still turns you on though.”

“Go on, get outta here.”

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earlgreydream · 9 months

Text

shattered. | tommy shelby x reader angst

He promised you.

tommy shelby angst. because my heart aches.

"Where is he?" You demanded, glaring hard at Arthur.

Thomas' brother avoided your eyes, muttering to get back behind the bar at the Garrison. You reached out and shoved his shoulder, knocking him back against the bar, catching him off-balance.

"Don't ya fuckin' lay your hands on me, woman!" Arthur yelled at you, getting in your face.

"Tell me where Tommy is!" you yelled back, feeling dozens of shocked eyes boring into you.

You weren't afraid of anything, not even the Shelby's. You had been looking for Tommy, who had promised to meet you at the train station. You'd waited for him on the platform, suitcase in hand, waiting to be whisked off to France with Tommy.

Thomas Shelby had promised to take you to France.

"Tommy," you called to him, walking into his office.

You climbed onto his desk, sitting in front of him as he leaned back, taking a drag from the cigarette between his full lips. His large hand came down to your thigh, squeezing gently and rubbing your leg.

"Come to bed," you whispered, lips hovering over his cheek before pressing a kiss against his warm skin.

"I'm workin'"

You shifted, moving the straps of your slip off your shoulders, the delicate fabric fluttering down to gather around your waist, tempting Tommy with your bare upper body. He leaned back, taking a good look at you as he smoked, dark blue eyes drinking in every inch of you.

"But I need you," you whined, parting your thighs and pulling back the fabric to show him your sex, dripping with desire for him.

"Jesus fucking christ," Thomas swore, pushing your knees open as you tried to close them, teasing him.

"Come to bed."

He stood so abruptly you jumped, the mobster towering over you. After putting out his cigarette, Thomas lifted you up under your knees, carrying you upstairs naked, leaving your flimsy slip on his desk downstairs.

Within minutes, you were writhing on his sheets, pulling hard at his ink-black hair as he ate you out mercilessly. His hot tongue lapped up everything you had to give him, tasting you until you were reduced to ragged screams.

The first time you came on his tongue, but he promised more, moving over you to bury his cock in your soaking pussy, pounding hard and deep as you clung desperately to him. Your nails dragged red lines down his freckled back, your face buried into his shoulder, muffling your moans as his hips connected with yours.

He kissed your neck as you threw your head back, unable to stop a second orgasm from shattering through your body, squeezing tightly around him, pulling Thomas into the chasm with you.

"Don't, don't," you begged hoarsely as he tried to pull out, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"What? You want to warm my cock?"

"Please, stay inside me for a little longer," you begged, exhaling as he settled down, halfway on top of you, buried inside.

"I want to get away from here," you whispered, brushing his hair from his eyes, his head lying on your chest.

"I want to take you away from here," Thomas confessed, squeezing your waist, burying his face in you, fantasizing about taking you away from all of the violence of his job, to live happily together somewhere west of Paris.

"It will be perfect. We'll have horses, I'll paint your barn red," he promised, his fingers gently stroking your bare skin as he spoke.

"I've never wanted anything else other than to be with you," you confessed.

"I'll get you away from here, I promise."

You had waited at the train station, and he never came. You watched the train to Paris come and go, shattering the pieces of your heart and dragging them away with it. Your throat was raw as you made the long walk back to the Garrison to look for him, to figure out why the hell he had stood you up and left you alone.

"John! Where the fuck is Tommy?!" you shouted, looking at his younger brother, turning away from Arthur after getting nowhere with him.

John looked at his feet, refusing to answer you. You picked up a glass off the bar and threw it at the floor, watching it shatter - just like your heart.

"Stop it, right now."

You knew the commanding voice anywhere - Tommy walked out from the back, his eyes hard as he stared you down.

"Where were you?!" you demanded furiously, your chest heaving as you forced back sobs.

"You will not continue to make a scene in my bar," he spoke with unwavering authority, stepping back and opening the door, silently instructing you to follow him.

"You will not tell me what to do!" the words burned your throat, your heel hitting the wooden floor with a resounding crack that sent a wave of certainty up your spine.

You could tell he was fighting back emotion as he walked up to you and grabbed your elbow. He was careful not to hurt you, but dragged you into the privacy of the back room.

"Let go!"

He released you, leaning back against the closed door so you couldn't get past him, trapping you in the room.

"Why, Tommy?" you asked, your voice shaking.

"I had to accept an engagement deal to the prime minister's daughter. It's for business, we need it to-"

You stepped back like you'd been slapped, a sharp pain exploding through your chest.

"For your business? Last night, you promised to leave it all behind and get away with me," you were unable to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He leaned forward to touch you, but you drew away, backing against the opposite wall, putting as much space as he could between the two of you. Tommy brought his knuckles to his mouth, exhaling a wounded sigh into his hand.

"I have to do this, for my brothers."

"You promised me, Tommy. You slept inside of me last night! You said you loved me!" you screamed, breaking down into full-out sobs, crumbling into pieces.

The pain in his eyes was evident, but it only made you angrier. He had chosen his business over you, a loveless marriage over you - over all of the promises he made under the moon. Years of love and sex and memories shattered in a day, and you were left with no idea how to pick up the pieces.

"It's not just about me, it's not just about you."

"That's a weak excuse," you hissed, slapping his hand away when he reached out to touch you.

"I do love you," he whispered.

"You broke my heart, Thomas Shelby."

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader

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kadwrites · 9 months

Text

desperate measures | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you finally take on the role of the tommy's bride-to-be.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, typos? , idk, slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you guys think! , also , i wanted to ask if you guys would want smut in this series? idk lmk

goosebumps prickle your skin all over, your eyes are glassy when you look down. thomas shelby is down on his knee, kissing your hand.

"tommy..." your voice is softer than you thought it would be

"ya need to be proposed to right? to be engaged?" he pulls away , his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles

neither of you have moved, you just look at each other.

you chuckle again, your eyes go to the diamond ring that rests on your finger "tommy, it's perfect."

"i wanted it to be perfect."

your heart feels like it's going to explode, maybe celest was right, maybe he isn't all that bad.

he stands up, your hand still in his "now we're engaged" he's still giving you that soft smile.

"we are." you can't help the smile that's on your lips

after he left, you hear the sounds of your friends stampeding down the stairs, as if they knew something has happened. anna helps renne down the stairs.

"let's see it" renee has a hand behind her, supporting her back and a hand on her belly, looking at you with genuine joy and excitement.

you move your hands, showing the big diamond ring, the ring shines and as soon as everyone sees it, they all gasp.

"he went down on one knee..." you whisper as you look at it, recalling what had happened, still smiling. you couldn't stop smiling, even if you tried

fiona is screaming and squealing , madeline is grabbing your hand and looking at the stone

"oh my god"

"he did what?" fiona says , her voice loud as she stares at you excitedly

anna giggles, looking at renee "who would've thought thomas shelby had it in 'im aye?"

abraham is also there , standing next to anna "that's a big fucking rock" he mutters.

"i know" you couldn't believe it either,

"oh my god, it's gorgeous" celest whispers as she stares at the ring, a hand over her mouth "let me see, let me see"

you push your hand in front of her and she takes it in hers eagerly "good lord, this must've cost 'im a fortune"

"god i'm still shaking" you laugh, your hand is unsteady "i almost dropped face first into the fucking floor." you can almost still feel his lips on your skin.

the butterflies in your stomach were still there whenever you'd remember that moment, even days after.

oliver had dropped you by tommy's office, you both needed to go over some things for the party, and you needed to go see a seamstress that'll be making your engagement dress, tommy is coming along to pay.

you walk through the halls that are now familiar to you, heading for his office.

"congratulations" the blonde woman spoke with a smile,

you stop walking, is she talking to you?. you turn and look at her "um thank you."

"i bet it took a lot of convincing aye? to finally give ya some sort of ring, some sort of.... acknowledgment" her voice is so sweet you almost wouldn't catch the malice in it "how sweet of 'im, he was willing to do something like that"

"excuse me?"

"i suppose he felt like he was lookin' for a woman who was not as ... demanding perhaps ?" her head tilts to the side "desperate times call for desperate measures"

you compose yourself, somehow you kept your anger out of your voice "ya don't know what you're talkin' about , miss carter. if i was you, i'd keep my mouth"

"oh please." she rolls her eyes, a mocking laugh is accompanied with it as she leans back in her chair "mr shelby is a good man, with a good heart, he probably did it out of pity." she coos "ya two hardly look like a couple."

"ya mind repeating those words to me, miss carter?"

tommy moved so quietly , you didn't even know he was standing beside you until he spoke.

"mr shelby..." she tries to smile, she stutters

he was watching, he always somehow is. he watched you walk, watched how you responded to her, how you held yourself.

"start talkin'." his voice was cold, it was ice cold.

her eyes widen, she licks her lips nervously "sir"

"she said that we don't look like a couple, that you're marrying me out of pity" the words that polly spoke to you, that first time you ever came here were ringing in your ear.

"is that so?" he didn't take his eyes off of her "is that so , miss carter?" he repeats.

she doesn't respond , she's just looking at him as if she wanted the earth to part and swallow her whole.

"and i'm sure that it doesn't look like i fucked 'er till her back gave out last night but looks can be deceiving, aye?"

with the way he spoke, even you almost believed him.

you held back a laugh, you tilt your head , mimicking how she spoke to you not even two minutes ago, with a small smirk on your lips. was it petty that you enjoyed this? probably, but you didn't really care.

his words did have an affect on you, but you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

her eyes dart between you and him, she tries to speak but he stops her

"i will go out with my fiancée, and when i come back i better not find one fucking trace of ya in this place."

your eyes snap to him, watching him now.

"i'm not the good man ya think i am, not to the likes of ya. the only reason i'm being forgiving today , is because my bride is next to me. next time , i wouldn't be so charitable."

he turns, his hand rests on the small of your back, taking you with him. you give the woman one last glance before you go.

she looked as if her blood stopped flowing, as if it froze in her veins ,her eyes still stuck on where tommy was.

taglist; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr, @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 3 months

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The interview

90sRadiohost!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You decided to have a little fun with your boyfriend while he's busy during an interview.

Warnings: smut, hurt/comfort 90s!Eddie, tommy lee, oral (female & male receiving), slight throat fucking, some dirty talk. orgasm denial. Jealous reader. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.

Workd cound: little over 4.1k

Mini series masterlist

A/n: Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes. This was kind of rushed, but I hope you all still enjoy it. I recommend at least reading the first fic, but you really don't have to to understand this.

18+ minors dni

Year 1991

Eddie had been teasing you all day. His hands kept inching up your skirt while you were busy organizing his desk. In between commercial breaks, he would lean over and whisper the filthiest things in your ear. He was trying to get prepared for his interview later today, but he couldn't help himself when it came to you. You could tell he was nervous. He always got nervous before a really big interview.

Any time you worked in the studio with him, his hands never left your skin. He was constantly touching you. He'd bend you over his desk before or after his show and take you slow or hard. Depending on his work day.

Today was no different. Even with his anxiety spiked high, Eddie still couldn't take a second to try something with you. You've never dated someone who made you feel this desirable before. The way he looked at you was enough to have you giving in.

You were straighting paper next to him while he was talking to someone who called in for some advice.

"Yeah, but she's got all of these toys. I feel like I'm being replaced." The man on the opposite end of the phone complained. He had called in because he found his girlfriends sex toys, and now he's insecure about them.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. He looked over at you and bit his lip before responding. "Her vibrators are not your competition. They're your friend. Use them."

The mention of vibrators reminds you both immediately of your first introduction together. The phone call that started it all and a romance blossomed soon after.

"So is that all you called to cry about?" Eddie smirked. He keeps eyeing you up and down as you straighten up his mess.

"Uhh yeah man, that's all." The man awkwardly replied. You could tell he felt embarrassed now after Eddie said what he said to him.

You felt kind of bad for him. But Eddie was always harder on the men who called in than the women. He'd always tell you most of the time the women needed reassurance, and the guys were just selfish assholes in bed. He wasn't a dick to all of them who called for help just the ones who deserved it. The guy that just called in got it the worst from Eddie.

He had been practically sweating bullets all day long about this interview. Some of the callers were getting his smart ass remarks the most because of it. Eddie wasn't like that with you. All day, he tried to have you in some way.

"Come on, baby. They'll never hear you whimperin' my name with Megadeth playing. Jus' let me taste you." He whined and begged.

You immediately shook your head. "You stay back Munson."

Eddie pouted, pushing his bottom lip out. He got on his hands and knees crawling over to you. You couldn't help but smile and try to back away from him in your chair.

"Ah ah baby, get back here. All I wanna do is make my cute girl cum on my tongue. That's all." Eddie tried to make it sound so innocent as he grabbed at your ankle to pull you back.

He's grinning from ear to ear. "You like keepin' your man starvin?"

"I swear to God, Eddie." You giggled and squirmed. His hand had such a tight grip on your leg.

"I've fucked you on that desk so many times. Let me lick your pussy for a little while. It'll help with my jangled nerves." He made his voice low and seductive. Just the way you like it. He knew how to send a shiver up your spine. "What if I laid back on the floor, and you got to ride my face?"

"Eddie, I'm warning you." You tried to sound serious, but your smile gave it away. You liked it when he talked to you like this.

Eddie crawled his way up to you while you sat in your rolling chair, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your skirt drapping over his head. You could hear him hum to himself and with one finger pushed your panties to the side. His tongue darting out to lick a long strip up your wet folds.

You gripped at the arm rests "maybe just for a little while."

"Thank you, baby." His voice muffled under your skirt. He kept your panties pushed to the side while his tongue flicked over your aching clit.

"Goddamn sweetheart you're always so fucking wet for me" Eddie practically groaned at the sight before him.

You tried so hard, not to moan. Which only spurred Eddie on more. The thought of his co-workers and boss hearing you both outside that door turned him on so much. Having you screaming his name while his face was buried between your thighs. He could cum in pants just imagining it. He has before when all alone in that tiny studio. With nothing to occupy himself but his dirty thoughts of you.

Eddie gave your clit a quick kiss before wrapped his plump lips around it sucking softly. You gasped before one of your hands flew to tug and pull at his hair."

"Mmmm--Eddie!." You covered your own mouth to quiet a moan. He sucked even harder when he noticed you were trying to be quiet. Your eyes flutter closed. You tried to put one of your feet to the floor and get away from him.

"Where ya goin' baby?" He lifted his head from out under your skirt and yanks you roughly back to his mouth. He lapped at your wet folds before going back to your clit.

You tried to push his head away only to end up pulling him closer. Your thighs shake as they hang over his broad shoulders.

"Eddie, don't stop." You mewled. You kept your voice as low as possible. You could feel him smiling against you. You know he enjoys seeing the effect he has on you.

Just as he really got into it, there was a loud bang at the door. Eddie lifted his head out from under your skirt once again. He looked to you and then back to the door, waiting for another knock. Two more loud bangs rattled the hinges and he was quick on his feet.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath while answering. Eddie swung open the door to come face to face with his boss.

"We have Tommy Lee on in five for that interview. Stop fucking around in here." His boss scolded him and you.

"Yea yea no one cares, but alright." He slammed the door back closed. He was frustrated that he had to stop what he was in the middle of doing. "We'll finish after this, I promise."

You nodded and fixed yourself back up, trying to regain composure. "Don't worry about it."

Eddie shot you look but couldn't say anything as he put his headphones on and got close to his mic again.

"Welcome back. Everyone, hope you enjoyed that little break, but now we're about to talk with Tommy Lee." He greeted his listeners back after a few songs.

You handed Eddie his notes for the interview. He really didn't want to talk to him but knew his boss would kick his ass if he didn't. You snorted when he looked annoyed. His face still glistening from your slick. You picked up a napkin and went to clean off his face. He quickly grabbed at your wrist, mouthing "no," so you mouthed "fine" right back. Which earned you a small laugh from him before he playfully swatted your ass making you yelp.

You let him get situated as a little idea popped in your head. Since he loves to tease and torment you all the time. Since he just can't seem to keep those hands off of you. Maybe you'll show him a little "appreciation."

"Hey Tommy, so uhh tell us what's it like with the new lead singer you guys got now?" Eddie looked over his questions he was allowed to ask. They were the same dull, bland questions every interviewer did.

You could tell he was bored out of his mind. He did not want to do this at all. You were going to wait until for a song break or even after his show went off air. But the looks of pure agony on his face made you pity him in this moment.

Eddie was currently leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table, struggling to untangle his yoyo. The notes resting on his lap, as he asked them in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, it's going good so far, different sound, but I think our fans are digging him so far." Tommy sighed into his phone. You could also tell he didn't want to do the interview with Eddie.

You walk over, tapping his feet. He immediately drops them to the floor on command. You pick up his interview notes, placing them nicely on the table. He thinks you're trying to keep him looking professional, but you had other plans.

You smiled and moved behind him to whisper in his ear. "Will you let me suck your cock?"

His eyes buldge out of his skull. "NOW?"

He practically yelled into the mic while Tommy was discussing Motley's new album.

You nodded and went back in front of him to get on your knees between his legs. His hand moved to your face, and his thumb smoothed across your bottom lip. You took it in your mouth sucking it gently. Earning you a low whimper from him.

"Oh my bad, sorry." Eddie spoke, clearing his throat. He snatched his thumb from your mouth. "You were saying?"

Your hands start rubbing his thighs up and down. You could tell he was trying so hard to hold it together. He pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated with himself and you.

"I've been a good girl. Can I pretty please have your cock in my throat?" You whisper.

You forward to kiss his prominent buldge straining in his jeans. He dropped his head down, and his headphones slipped off and landed on his desk. Eddie fumbled around to put them back on. He prayed no one heard any of that.

Eddie's expression was something of shock and lust. He's not used to you being this forward. Normally, he had to work you up to get you like this. You're getting brave, and he couldn't be happier.

You slowly unzipped his pants. Your eyes never left his, and his eyes never left yours. It was like he was in some sort of trance watching you. He wasn't even paying attention to the interview anymore. Everything Tommy was saying fell on deaf ears. His focus was solely on you. You glance over at the mic, signaling him he needed to focus.

"Baby, please." He pleaded covering up the mic so no one can hear. You freed his painfully hard cock out of his pants. He let out a sigh of brief relief. His pants were getting increasingly uncomfortable the harder he became.

Licking your lips, you take him in your hand and kiss his leaking tip as you begin sucking it. Your tongue swirling around the head, cleaning off every bit of his precum. He rolled his head to the side. Eddie's struggling to remain calm and collected for this interview. His boss will kill him if he fucks this up.

You stopped and pulled your mouth away slightly to spit right on his cock. Using your spit and the little bit of his precum as lubricant. You gave him a few good strokes twisting your wrists pumping cock. He gulps as he watches you. Beads of sweat coated his forehead making his bangs stick to his skin. His hands were gripping hard onto the table. His knuckles turning white. His rings scratch at the surface.

"I can't wait to have you inside me." You teased. Your voice low enough under the table for only him to hear. "Thinkin' about you struggling to fit it all in at once."

You take his cock in your mouth slowly until he hit the back of your throat. You stayed still for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe through your nose.

He lets out a shakey breath and covers up the mic once more. "I'm gonna make you feel every inch. You just wait until I get your ass home."

You smiled around his cock at his threat. Can't be much of a threat if you'd enjoy every second of it.

"So Tommy!" Eddie piped up with too much enthusiasm even for him.

You began bobbing your head up and down, taking him as deep in your mouth as he could go. You moaned when one of his hands rested on the back of your head. Drool was spilling from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. The head of his cock hitting so far at the back of your throat.

"I-I HEARD--" He stuttered after you swallowed around him. "I heard you guys are planning a tour."

Eddie was quick to fix himself. This whole interview, he had been battling to stay on task. His abs flexed when you reached to push up his t-shirt. He's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Your mouth working on him lazily giving the messiest blow job you could. Your spit dripping down from your chin onto the tuft of soft curls peeking out from under his pants. Your nose nestled into the them, taking in his musky scent.

"Uh huh yeah, a tour within the next year or so." You could hear Tommy's distorted voice over the speakers.

"Ohmyfuckinggod...." Eddie grunted through gritted teeth. His jaw clenching.

Your mouth sucking on his cock harder. Your head moving up and down faster. One of your other hands creeped higher under his shirt to pinch his nipples. His face is beet red. All he wants to do is shut off his mic and moan out your name. The fact that he can't properly give you any praise is driving him insane.

Eddie shakes his head, taking a long, deep breath. The interview is almost over. Couple more questions, and he can let go.

"I--I mean, very exciting to hear that as well. He laughed slightly. Not at what Tommy says, but at the disbelief of what you're doing to him right now.

Usually, it's the other way around. Nine times out of ten Eddie is the one with his cock buried in you while hes live on his show. You've gotten so bold and brave over this last year of dating. He wasn't complaining.

Eddie's just so used to the shy girl he first met. But then again, you did call him and have your first orgasm on his radio show with hundreds of people listening in. That boldness was always there.

You pinched his nipple harder and ran your fingernails down his abdomen, leaving a tiny red trails behind. He bucked his hips roughly pushing his cock further in your throat. Nearly causing the back of your head to hit the table. His cock throbbing and pulsating in your mouth.

You pulled him almost all the way out. Your lips wrapped perfectly around his sensitive tip, still sucking firmly on it. Taking your other hand you stroke his cock giving you're throat a break for a couple of minutes. His strangled moans are enough to make you want to keep going.

Your lips leave his tip for you to whisper up at him. "You wanna fuck me so bad right now. It's driving you crazy that you cant."

"Oooh my god, you're gonna get it--fking hell, you're gonna get it." He growled lowly, covering his mic with a shakey hand.

The corners of your mouth quirked up when your hand starts pumping his cock faster. A line of spit connecting from your lips and to his head. Your mouth and chin covered in drool. It was a sight to see, and he was mesmerized by it. He hastily snaps out of it and readjusts his headphones.

Eddie cackles into the mic and runs a hand down his face. "Tommy, tell me about your love life really quick...saw that hot blonde on your arm recently."

"She's good. we're thinking about getting married." Tommy announced to Eddie and the show.

Eddie looks down at you and pats your head. "I saw her in that music video last year. I can see why you'd want to marry her."

"She's uhhh somethin" else." He whistled, fixing his collar as if he was getting hot thinking about her.

He stops patting your head to cup your jaw gently.

You stop stroking his cock taking your hand away. You slip him back in your mouth, relaxing your throat, taking him in inch by inch again. You swallowed hard around him purposely. His body twitching from the sensation. Your mouth felt amazing and so warm.

"Ahh...uhhmm--well, that's good." He blurted out. Eddie felt like he was going to burst at any moment. Your throat closed around him each time you took him further down. "Hey man, listen, we gotta cut to a small intermission."

"No no it's cool." Tommy laughed in the phone.

"On our small intermission how about we play somethin' this next song is called "a letter to Elise by the cure"

You continued to bob your head as if you weren't preoccupied with what he said. That tinge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Your face was growing hot, replaying what he said about that girl.

The lustful look in his eyes when talked about the music video she was in. It pissed you off but also made you incredibly sad, too. You try to keep those feelings at bay and pay no mind to them. Eddie pushed his chair away from the table to give you more room. You move around on your knees following him.

"Fuck baby, you're doing so good." He purred, relaxing back.

His hips bucking up thrusting his cock in your mouth. He repeated his movements over and over. His cock going down your throat feverishly with little to no warnings. Eddie wasn't rough, but he wasn't gentle about it either. He was tired of all the teasing. Tears springing to your eyes each time his cock slides down your throat harder. You could tell he was getting close. You could sense it.

"Love you, s'much sweet girl." Eddie brought his hand out to caress and wipe your tears. He smiled warmly down at you. You were still feeling jealous by his comment towards Tommy's girlfriend.

Eddie groaned, rolling his head from side to side. His mouth hanging open. "Shiiiiiiit I'm gonna cum."

"You're gonna be my good girl and swallow it?....maybe if you're lucky ill cum on your tits later. He chuckled a cocky smile appearing on his face.

You look up at him through your lashes and whined. His hand on your hair, and he roughly pushes you down on him and pulls you back up. Your mouth making the sloppiest wet sounds while fucked your throat. You had to stop. Your emotions were beginning to be too much.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you released him from your mouth with a loud wet pop. You slapped his hands away from your head. You coughed and gasped, trying to catch your breath. You weren't going to let him cum. Not after what he said about some other girl he clearly liked a lot.

You stomped over to your chair and sat down, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddies mouth drops open in shock, too stunned to speak. His cock laying flat against his belly coated with your spit just begging for your attention.

"Baby, why'd you stop?" He rasped. His face full of concern at your sudden attitude. He doesn't know what he did or said to make you upset. Where you upset at how rough he was being with you? You normally liked it when he used your throat like that.

That hint of jealousy is getting stronger, and you can't help but not ignore it any longer.

"Nothing," you scowled, not daring to look over at him.

His chest rose and fell fast. He's panting and trying to catch his breath. He was so close cumming until you removed him completely from your throat.

"Something is obviously wrong. Talk to me." He spoke tenderly. He didn't care about finishing at the moment. All he cared about was you and fixing whatever it was that upset you.

"Why don't you ask his girlfriend to help you cum." You sneered still looking ahead.

"Is that what this is about?" Eddie grinned but quickly got rid of it. He knew better than to let you see him smiling. He wasn't laughing at you. He just thought it was kind of cute how you are obviously jealous over that.

"Sweetheart, come here."

You gave him a side eye and saw he was motioning you over to him. You rolled your eyes and got up to sit down in his lap.

His hands instinctively go to hold your waist. His chin resting on your shoulder with those big brown eyes of his looking up at you. You resisted the urge to look at him.

"Now you know because I said that doesn't mean I want her. You're my whole world baby." Eddie kissed your neck, trying his best to reassure you.

"You didn't have to say it while I was busy doing.....that to you." You finally looked back at him, and that's when he saw the hurt in your eyes.

he knows where he screwed up, but he was just doing his job. He truly didn't mean it. He has to flatter the guests. Inflate their already too big of an ego. Give them a bigger head than what they already had.

"Sweetheart, that was inappropriate, but you have to remember this is just part of my job. I have to say these things, it's just my radio persona." Eddie explained in a calm manner. He didn't want you being hurt by anything he said.

You know this is part of his job, but for some reason, that really did hurt you and filled you with so much jealousy. You know that type of stuff comes with the territory of what he does for a living. You used to listen to his show all the time before you got together.

You should be used to it by now. For the most part, you are. You chalked up your problem with him saying that to that stupid face he made when thinking about her as his cock was in your mouth. It made you feel like he was picturing her doing that to him and not you.

You look down picking at your nails. "I know. I don't know why it bothered me it just did....I guess I thought you were thinking of her while I was doing that to you."

He shakes head but lets you finish before speaking. "You're the only one I want and need. You're the only girl I've ever been with that makes my heart skip a beat every time you look at me. You're the only person I think about day and night. Always. You're my first thought in the morning and my last thought before bed."

Eddie hooks a finger under your chin to make you look at him again. You fight back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

"You really mean all of that?" You sniffle leaning back against his chest.

He held you tighter to him. "I've never lied to you once, and I don't plan on starting now."

You smiled, playing with the ends of his long curly hair. "Did--You want me to help you finish?"

"I'll be okay. All I want to do is hold you. Can I do that?" He turns his head to kiss your forehead and rubs your back soothingly.

"Yeah, you can hold me." You got yourself more comfortable in his lap. If he wanted to coddle you, then you'll let him and milk it for all its worth.

Eddie's hold was strong, almost like he was afraid if he let go, you'd dissappear. He doesn't like seeing you this way. You're beautiful and have no reason to ever question his loyalty to you. Especially over dumb questions, his boss hounds him to ask.

"The interview will be over before you know it, then I'm all yours." He exhaled, resting his head on top of yours. You felt horrible for what you did earlier. The guilt finally settled in.

He shifts in his seat. "Don't worry, I'm gonna have you begging for me in the back of my van after this. I don't think I can wait to get you home."

You knew he wasn't exaggerating either. He's been craving you all day long, and he's not going to pass up on any opportunity to have you. He's also feels bad about hurting you and wants to worship every part of your body.

Eddie needs you to understand just how much he loves you. He's always been better at showing you than telling you. His love language has always been touch and music. So you'll be getting all of that and more tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #90s!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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darlin’ i’d wait for you

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: Inspired by my real life love for my godchildren. Mis almas, no hay nadie que ame más que tú. Gracias por elegirme.

Summary: “Ten fingers. Ten toes. And even if you had none of them, you’d still be the grandest thing I’ve ever seen.” - Emily Henry, Beach Read aka you and Joel have a baby [3.0k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of labor and delivery (nothing graphic), swearing, lots of emotions, fluff

"You need to be resting!" Maria says as you pace the living room with your hands on your hips. Ellie is watching you move from her space in the kitchen, her knee bouncing with anxiety as she sits there.

"You need to find Joel!"

"Tommy's getting him right now. Please, just lay down."

"I'm fine," another contraction ripples through your body, and you grip the back of the couch. "Fuck! I can't believe Joel convinced me to do this again!" You yell. The pain tightens in your lower abdomen, and you drop your head to the cushions, unable to focus on anything else. Strong hands press against the small of your back, applying the perfect counter pressure to your contraction. The tension releases just enough for you to pick your head up and find Maria standing over your shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes. No words need to be exchanged for her to know how grateful you are for her presence.

The contractions have been coming and going since late last night, but you didn't think much of it. They were sporadic and not painful enough to make you think you were in labor. You had false contractions with Jane and expected the same thing with this one, except that these contractions became very real very fast. Joel was already out on patrol when you had Ellie run to Tommy and Maria's for additional help because they were getting so bad. This baby is coming soon.

"Do you have a bag ready to go?" Maria asks as the contraction ends, and you nod, pushing yourself up.

"In our bedroom closet, but it's missing some stuff."

"Okay, tell me what you need, and I'll pack it."

"I can do it."

"Honey, if you walk up those stairs, there's no way you'll make it back down." She says, and you sigh. Reluctantly, you list some last-minute things that need to get thrown in the bag and where they'll be. Maria turns on her heels and sprints up the stairs, ever a woman on a mission. Ellie walks over to you as Maria's figure disappears, standing awkwardly near you as you hold your belly.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you." You say, wrapping her in a hug or as much of a hug as you can manage with the baby in between you. She relaxes and lets out a big breath as you rub her back.

"I feel like I should be the one comforting you."

"I've done this before. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, but that was before," the fear in her voice rattles you to your core, and you pull away to look at her. Her bottom lip is cracked and bleeding from her teeth worrying at it all morning, and she looks like the scared kid you met in Boston. "You really should be on the way to the hospital."

"As soon as Joel gets here, I'll go, okay?" You say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She shakes her head, and you open your mouth to say something more, but the vice grip returns, and you grip her shoulders. Your head bows under the weight of the pain, and you clutch Ellie like a lifeline.

"Okay, they're getting closer together. Maria!" Ellie yells as she holds you upright. You vaguely register Maria rushing down the stairs and telling Ellie something, but you don't have enough energy to listen. Time could've stopped right there, and you would've had no way of knowing. No stab wound, gunshot, or punch even comes close to this pain level. Your breathing is uneven, and you can feel yourself sweating bullets despite the cool August air. You thought you were ready. You thought you knew what to expect after Jane, but this is different. You wonder why you thought you could have another baby as the contraction fades. Maria says your name, and you pick your head up from Ellie's shoulder.

"We need to get you to the hospital right now. Joel will meet us there." She says, but you shake your head, the lump of panic in your throat tightening. Memories of begging your mom, Jane's dad, friends, or anyone to come to the hospital so you wouldn't be alone replay in your head. You were alone and scared and sixteen fucking years old when you had Jane on a stormy Tuesday morning. The nurses looked at you like a kicked puppy and mumbled, "a baby having a baby," under their breaths when they left you to cry alone while holding your newborn.

"No, no, no. Joel's not here yet. I'm not going without him."

"I promise that Tommy will bring him to you. I'm sure they're on their way back now."

"I'm not going by myself!" The harshness in your tone makes everybody in the room pause. "I've already done this alone once, and I'm not fucking doing it again. So, we are going to wait for Joel even if I have this baby on the fucking floor! Do you understand me?"

"Hey," Ellie says softly. "Hey, you're not alone. At all. We're all here because we love you and want you to be safe. Nobody is going to leave, okay?" She says, rubbing your back as tears fill your eyes.

"I can't do this." without her, you want to add, but you don't. Ellie pushes the sweaty hair out of your eyes and holds your face so you can look at her. Your breath is shaky, and you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces, but her brown eyes are looking into yours so intently that you have no choice but to look back.

"You can. You can do this. You're doing so good. You're going to have this baby, and it'll probably be the cutest fucking baby ever. And we'll all make stupid faces at it and love it even though I don't even think I like most babies, and you'll be okay. Both of you," her eyes don't move from yours as she speaks, even when you start crying. "You're not alone, but I can tell you're in pain, and we need to get to the hospital before it gets worse, okay?" She asks, and you take a shaky breath before nodding. Ellie and Maria seem to let out sighs of relief at the same time, and they start ushering you to the door when it opens.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late," Joel yells as he and Tommy run in. He smiles and runs over and kisses you. You have half a mind to smack him for looking so giddy when you're in so much pain, but let him kiss you anyway. "You ready to have a baby?" He asks as another contraction tightens in your stomach, making you squeeze him tightly. You don't get to see your family scrambling to get out the door, but you feel it. Bags and coats find owners as your entourage helps support you down the steps of your home and on the path to the hospital.

Four contractions come and go on the way to the hospital doors, where Maria, Tommy, and Ellie cheer and promise to wait there until you're ready for them. "Almost there, baby. We're gonna get you all the good drugs, okay?" Joel tells you quietly as he flags down a nurse and a wheelchair for you. The nurse asks rapid-fire questions as she rushes you into a delivery room, and Joel does his best to answer them. You curl into yourself the second your body hits the hospital bed, yet another contraction hitting you, but this time with a familiar splitting pain. You're not going to have time for the good drugs.

The rest is a blur of doctors, nurses, questions, and Joel whispering praises into your temple. Your vision struggles to focus on anything as pain radiates from your hips to your back and up your spine. It's excruciating and dizzying, and you think you'd throw up if you weren't so focused on getting this fucking kid out. "One more, baby. One more push, and then it's over." Joel tells you. You don't respond. You can't. All the blood rushes through your ears, and you squeeze his hand hard. For a moment, the whole world stops, and tears fall down Joel's face as the tiny baby is placed on your chest. You gasp and hold them close as they screech, announcing their arrival loudly.

"It's a girl!" Someone announces, and you laugh weakly, struggling to catch your breath. You look down at your daughter and kiss her head as she continues to cry.

"You're okay. I've got you. We're okay, sweetheart. You're safe," you tell her, rubbing her back. Joel reaches out to trace the apple of her cheek and grabs her tiny hand. You and Joel join her crying, everything besides your family becoming obsolete. Joel presses a chaste kiss to your lips and smiles when you laugh against him. "I told you so." You say, and he laughs.

"You were right," he says. "I'm so proud of you." He kisses you again as your daughter cries beautifully on your chest. Jane didn't cry at first when she was born, effectively scaring the shit out of you and everyone else in the room, but when she finally did, it was like you were breathing for the first time, too. You think this may be the first time since her death that you've felt that much peace.

Joel cuts the cord, and the room devolves into a controlled madness with nurses and doctors calling things back and forth to each other. You don't care. The little girl on your chest has settled down and tucked her head under your chin, listening to your rapid heartbeat and recognizing the pattern. "We're right here, baby girl. We're not going anywhere, okay?" You whisper to her, kissing her over and over again. She smiles, and you immediately recognize Joel's crooked smile— nine months of carrying her and a record-breakingly fast delivery for her to be his twin.

"Mama, we're gonna take her to get cleaned up and get her measurements, okay? The doctor's working on getting you fixed up, too." A nurse says, and you nod.

"Just be careful, please. I made her from scratch, and it took a really fucking long time." You say as you pass her to the nurse. Everyone, including Joel, laughs even though you're serious. Joel leaves your side only to follow the nurse to the other side of the room, watching her every movement meticulously. You keep eyes on both of them. She starts fussing as the nurse cleans her up, and Joel reaches out to smooth her hair. He says something to her that you can't hear and watch him start crying again. She settles down again, but Joel is a mess. The nurse offers him a tissue, and you laugh to yourself but don't do anything to get his attention.

Let them have their secret conversation. You have a feeling it will be the first of many.

She's asleep, but you can't stop looking at her. Joel is lying in the hospital bed with you as she rests in his arms, your chin hooked over his shoulder so you can stare at her. The little girl who gave you enough excitement for a lifetime is bundled up in a white blanket with a striped hat covering her dark hair. Her legs are long and skinny, but she's strong, grasping anything within reach.

She has his nose and lips, but your eyes match. Her little chest rises and falls steadily, and little sighs come from her occasionally as she sleeps. Her hand somehow escaped the swaddle, and her fingers flex around the blanket's fabric like she's trying to decide whether she likes it. Joel reaches for her tiny hand and tries to tuck it away again, but she resists, making an angry face until he lets go. You laugh and melt simultaneously at her actions.

"She's perfect," you whisper as you kiss Joel's shoulder. He hums and turns to kiss your temple. "How did we get so lucky?"

"I've no idea," he whispers back. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Her. This. Making me a dad again." His voice is so tender and raw that your eyes mist up again. You sniffle and wipe your eyes.

"Anytime, cowboy," you rest your hand on her chest to feel the little heartbeat you made from nothing but stardust and blood. Her face scrunches up in her sleep before her little fingers find yours. "Well, maybe not anytime, but you know what I meant."

"Oh, 'm ready for another one right now."

"Never in a million fucking years could you convince me to do that again."

"You did great." He says, and you smile. You're both exhausted and should be sleeping, but you can't stop looking at the life you created together. She's not even a day old, and you know you would tear the world into a thousand pieces if she asked you to. You would do anything for her.

"D'you still like the name we picked?" You ask, and he nods.

"Do you?"

"I think it's perfect for her."

"Hey, guys," a nurse peeks her head in the door. "Are we ready for some visitors?" She asks. You nod, and Joel adjusts baby girl in his arms. Her little arm reaches up in a stretch, and she fusses when she loses the grip on your hand. You tell her you're not far, and Joel bounces her.

"Hey," Ellie says softly as she enters the room. You smile and sit up, ignoring the jarring pain in your hips at the movement. "Oh, my God. How are you feeling?" She asks as she hugs you like she's afraid she'll break you if she holds you too tight. You rub her back and kiss her head.

"I'm okay. I delivered pretty much the second they could get me to lay down."

"I knew we should've gone to the hospital sooner!" Ellie says, and Joel shushes her. She makes an eek face as she looks at him.

"A baby's tryin' to sleep here."

"Holy shit," she breathes, taking in the bundle in Joel's arms for the first time. "Girl or boy?"

"I'm pretty sure the Millers are only capable of having girls at this point," you say, and Ellie smiles. "Do you wanna hold her?"

"Can I?" She asks as Joel stands. She's unsure what to do but copies Joel's position and puts a hand under her back.

"Support her head," Joel instructs quietly as he carefully transitions your daughter into Ellie's arms.

"I got it. I got it," she says. Instinctively, she starts swaying back and forth and patting the baby's back. Joel stays nearby, watching as Ellie gets comfortable holding her. Your heart could explode seeing the three of them together. "Who are you?" She asks quietly, pulling the blanket under the baby's chin so she can see her.

"This is Charlotte Elaine Miller," you say. "Charlie, for short."

"Hey there, Charlie girl. My name's Ellie."

"She's your big sister." Joel adds. Even though he's talking to Charlie, he's looking at Ellie. She takes a shaky breath as she processes his words. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead.

"I'm one of your big sisters," she says. The pregnancy hormones and the day's emotions catch up with you, and you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to. Something about seeing Ellie with Charlie hits you hard. "I've got so much to teach you and tell you about when you're a little bigger, though. There's not much I can do with you right now except, well, this," She shrugs as if to make her point to the sleeping baby, and you laugh. Charlie stretches again, probably getting used to having so much room now that she's out of you, and yawns. "Oh, big yawn. Good job." Ellie praises.

"You're a natural," Joel says, making her smile.

"I dunno about that, but she does like me. Right, Charlie girl?" she asks, and the Charlie girl in question chuffs. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together." She says sincerely. Joel meets your eyes, sending you a knowing look and a crooked smile, and you smile back a little sadly. He works at his jaw, and his Adam's apple bobs as his eyes sparkle with tears again. No words need to be exchanged. You know. You may be one of the only people who know. Ellie rambles to Charlie, ever the present audience, and you remember, silent and pious in your devotion.

You think you'll spend your whole life remembering, a constant scramble for pieces of memories that bring her closer. You think you'll find bits of her in music, the summer sun, and your girls' eyes. You think you'll tell Charlie of her big sisters, who were loved and cherished beyond belief, and their shared adoration of Patti Smith. You think you'll be able to find a way to talk about her that doesn't feel like your soul is desperately ripping away from you. For Sarah, Jane, Ellie, and now Charlie, you think you would do anything.

Even after so much loss, destruction, and nights spent hopelessly staring at the wall like it would be enough to start Jane's heart again, you think you would do it all again. The world can be a really shitty place, and you've seen firsthand how horrible people can be to each other. You and Joel have been a million different versions of awful people, and you can never escape that. But you have Ellie and Charlie. And each other. And for a moment, in this horribly lit hospital room, every minute of that misery has meaning.

💓

taglist: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #ellie williams #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #big sister Ellie Williams #there’s such an Easter egg in the baby’s name #first person to look up the name meanings gets a kiss on the mouth #look for the light

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Bible Study

Priest!Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: BLASPHEMOUS! (Read with caution) Mean-ish WandaNat. (Am I a whore?)

Smut: Father (N), Mommy (W), Bunny (R) |Fingering (R), Oral (W), Unprotected Sex (R-Nat has a Dick), Kinks: Spitting, Slapping, Praising, Breeding.

18+ | Minors DNI | Please Don’t Report^ Labeled.

4,674 Words

Wanda knew everyone in town, it was part of the gig being the pastors wife and all, so when you entered their church this morning her curious eyes locked right in on your docile form as you took a seat on the aisle three rows back.

"Isn't she so pretty Natty?" Wanda held onto her wife's bicep with unexpected force as she surveyed the crowd settling into the pews, "She's precious, can we have her, please?"

Natasha chuckled, "Will that make my detka happy?" Wanda nodded. "Then she's all ours."

The couple shared a sweet kiss before Wanda took her rightful place in the front pew, right by their twins, Billy and Tommy Romanoff. They were a perfect split, Billy looked just like Wanda, while Tommy looked like Natasha.

——

Natasha softly smiled down at her family, then she looked out at her congregation with a grin, "Good morning everyone, shall we begin?"

—

The sermon was great, it didn't feel anything like you were used to in the past, there was an air of understanding in the preachers eyes and you knew it to be genuine as she had a wife. Word traveled around this small town fast, which is why you ended up here this Sunday.

There wasn't judgement here, and that was the way it should always be, as the bible itself says.

There was a post sermon luncheon being hosted across the way from the main church in a smaller building, it definitely piqued your interest, but you were unable to bring yourself to enter, so you did the next best thing and turned to leave towards the parking lot.

"Where are you sneaking off to dorogoy?"

"Oh, um hi there ma'am, I was headed home."

Wanda winced, "Please, refrain from calling me ma'am, it feels like you've just wounded me honey," she gripped at her heart to feign pain, causing you to chuckle softly, "My apologies..."

"Wanda," she held out her hand, you nervously accepted it, and your knees threatened to buckle at the mere sight of her gorgeous smile.

"So, instead of heading home, how about you follow me in? We'd love to get to know you."

"Y/N."

"A pretty name, attached to such a pretty face, what a shocker," she mused, relishing in the sight of your widened eyes, and at the way your head fell to hide your sudden nervous smile.

Wanda escorted you to the table with her kids, "I'll be right back with some snacks, sit tight."

"Hi!" Tommy shouted, you met his enthusiasm with a calm wave. "I'm Tommy, this is Billy."

"Hi," Billy greeted, far more reserved than his brother, "You're new, what brings you here?"

"I'm on a journey of self discovery actually," you admitted, rather easily at that, "I'm from out West, but I decided to venture out and in my journey I seem to have ended up here."

"Interesting, of all the places you could've traveled to, tell me honey, why New Jersey?"

It shocked you to see the pastor stood beside you, she was no longer in her church attire, but instead she wore a pair of blue jeans, with a simple white shirt that clung to her muscular figure in a way that seemed far too sinful for the venue, but your eyes still wandered.

"I-I'm not exactly sure Pastor Romanoff, I just know something told me that this was where I needed to be, so I parked my RV and stayed."

Natasha smirked, if her job has taught her anything, it's that God works in mysterious ways, and that this here was a true testament to the powerful nature of divine intervention.

"Please, call me Nat," she extended her hand out, and even if your hand was clammy, like before you accepted it, and whispered, "Y/N."

"Well Y/N, we're so happy to have a new face around, especially one as gorgeous as yours," she winked and you about lost the ability to breathe as she looked at you like you were her prey while her children were sat there coloring.

Wanda returned to see you looking absolutely awestruck, your lips pursed, while your eyes were chock-full of wonder as well as terror. Their prayers have finally been answered is all she can think as she settles down beside you, a smidge too close for a preachers wife you reckon, but you also can't be bothered to care.

"Hey, Y/N," you turned to look at her, your breath hitching as you nearly bumped noses, "Are you free for an introductory bible study?" Wanda smiled at you, innocent in nature, but you could see something more devious brewing behind those mesmerizing viridescent orbs.

"I-I, where, when?"

Natasha smirked, "Here, tonight, let's say 6?"

"Yeah, okay, what do I need to bring?" you asked while jumping to your feet in a rush.

Wanda followed your movement, placing a hand on your lower back she gently guided you to the exit with her wife right behind her, the women smiling brightly as you faced them.

"Just bring your pretty self," Wanda said while placing a kiss on your slightly heated cheek, "We'll handle the rest, don't worry about it."

When you got into your RV your skin was crawling, every alarm that could go off did, but you simply turned the radio up to drown them out, and headed straight towards your hotel. Where you paced for about an hour, deciding if returning was a smart idea, and wondering why you had the urge to shave for such a night.

You're preparing for the likes of a date, when in reality you're meant to meet the pastor and her wife to go over various pieces of scripture. You could use some sort of help honestly, resisting temptation was never exactly your strong suit, and with women as gorgeous as them you were perceivably hopeless if you read the vibe right.

And God, were you hoping you did...

—

After hours of deliberation you found yourself eagerly driving back to the church, a bible in your shaky hand as you got out of the vehicle. But it mattered not when your heart was consumed entirely by sin, your body matched that sentiment, adorned in a lacy red two piece that you could catch a glimpse of through your sheer white top tucked into a tight black skirt.

"Oh fuck," Natasha cursed, she could feel her cock hardening at the sight of you through the blinds in her office, "Wanda, come look at her."

"Yebena mat'," Wanda cursed in her wives mother tongue, "Come on, she's waiting!"

(Holy shit)

Natasha and Wanda quietly approached you from behind as you were stood in front of the church doors in wait for the clock to strike six.

"Aren't you an early bird?" Wanda announced herself with a playful smile when you turned to her, a bit startled, but you were able to recover pretty quickly, "I haven't got much else to do."

"Really? You're dressed so," Natasha paused, eyes drinking you in, her tongue seductively moving passed her lips as she wetted them before her tone dropped, "Provocatively."

You smirked, unsure where this sudden wave of confidence of yours came from, but you were ready to run with it, "Oh, well I actually have a date after bible study, but I thought I looked cute, are you saying this gives the wrong idea?"

Natasha's jaw clenched as she brushed passed you with the church keys, meanwhile Wanda's only giveaway towards jealousy was her eyes. They spoke in place of her neutral expression.

"It's cute, but Natasha's right, you look slutty."

Words worked too you supposed...

They left you stood in the doorway with your mouth agape, and a sinking feeling setting in. You were just trying to tease them, but it seems all you did was anger them, and likely ruined your chances of this fantasy to actually happen.

"Are you coming Y/N? You're letting all the cold air in honey," Wanda called out to you, and it was her soft voice giving you whiplash that brought you back from your mind full up on turmoil. "Yup, sorry," you shuffled inside, shutting the large doors behind you, and in doing so, you effectively sealed your fate.

Natasha cleared her throat, "Come here," she was stern in not only tone but stance as she stood at her podium behind the altar, and you had no interest in making her mad so your legs swiftly brought you to her. "Kneel," she husked, sending shivers down your spine as you were quick to obey the alluring woman in charge.

"You won't be needing this," Wanda slipped the bible from your hands, leaving you in a state of total confusion, your eyes tracked the room as you began to realize that this was indeed a closed bible study, and not just a fantasy.

"Look at me," Natasha commanded, and your flickering gaze instantly settled on her stony face, "From this moment forward you will call me Father, and if at anytime you wish to leave, you're free to go, do I make myself clear?"

"Answer her malysh," Wanda said from right beside you where she was crouching down to be on your level, "Don't upset her now honey, or this'll be no fun for any of us, and mommy wants to have fun with her precious bunny."

You nodded without a moment's hesitation, "Yes father, I understand," you smiled at her, and for a brief moment you saw her lips upturn before they fell back into a neutral position.

Natasha turned away to grab some things, and as she did that you released a nervous breath, only to have another caught in your throat as Wanda pressed herself into you. "You're so pretty bunny," she craned her head around to gently kiss your cheek, an act of faux innocence because in the next instance she was kissing your tingling lips hard enough to leave you breathless, "Can I touch your body, hm?"

The question felt near redundant, her lips have already touched yours, while her hands held onto your hips for support from behind, so you knew that what she was asking wasn't as simple as it sounded, and you were so eager to give in, you nodded vigorously, but Natasha gripped your chin before you could nod again.

"Use your words," she held you tighter for emphasis, "Unless you wish for consequences."

"Sorry father, I-I promise to be good," Natasha nodded, and once she loosened her grip you turned to face Wanda, "Yes mommy, you are both free to touch me however you like."

"There you go," Natasha smiled at you, it was soft, but in a condescending way, "I knew you weren't just a pretty face, such a smart girl."

While Wanda's hands bunched your skirt up Natasha's hand gripped your chin again, far less tightly than before, "Open up bunny."

Natasha watched with pride as you obediently parted your lips, she lifted the chilled golden chalice to her lips, sipping the ruby tinted wine into her mouth before she slowly leaned over, and sensually spit the wine directly into yours.

It was perfectly synchronized, the altered liquid permeated your tastebuds, and then it slid down your throat just as Wanda slid two of her fingers into your dripping cunt. Natasha pressed her lips to yours just as a scream was ripped from your burning throat, catching it with efficient ease, and spurring your arousal on tenfold as she slid her tongue over yours.

Never in your days did you expect communion to play out like this, but you'd honestly never felt closer to a higher being than you did now. Natasha, and Wanda were the holy figureheads for this small town, you understood the appeal right away with their charms, and now you thanked the world for introducing them to you.

"You're dripping," Wanda groaned, "Good grief, do you hear yourself detka? So wet."

You'd willed yourself to feel shame for what was taking place here tonight, you felt like a common mans' whore with how easily you were giving it up, but you just couldn't seem to care. With the way she fucked you, and Lord, with the words she said, they had you in a chokehold. "It's like this pussy was meant for mommy's fingers. Don't you agree detka?"

Natasha pulled away from you, the picture perfect display of cool as you panted loudly. She returned to her previous position, moving about to put things in order for, well, you hadn't a clue honestly, but you were excited.

"Answer mommy," Natasha commanded, "Sorry father," you choked out over a moan, "Y-yes mommy, I was made just for you to fuck."

"Watch your mouth," Natasha chided, her hand made instant contact with your cheek, "Pretty girls like you need not speak like that Y/N."

"Oh, okay, I-I'm sorry father, I won’t swear,” you stuttered, mind currently reeling from how your body alit with this nearly painful desire as her hand harshly collided with your skin, you nearly asked her to do it again, you’re certain Wanda knew too with the way she smirked against your shoulder, you’d clenched so hard she felt your walls suck her in even deeper.

“U shlyukhi bolevoy sindrom,” Wanda spoke in secrets to her wife, you dropped the redheads gaze as soon as she looked to you with a smirk, she knew now. “Imeyet smysl.”

(The slut has a pain kink / Makes sense)

You wish you could say you were embarrassed now, but you weren’t, only eager for more.

The pastor began to hum a familiar tune to fill the nearly silent room, and with that followed Wanda's sultry voice,"'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace, my fears relieved." Natasha unexpectedly sang out the next line, "How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed."

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound," the women kept their voices low, their raspy tones wrapped around your brain as they harmonized, further clouding your lusty mind. "Sing with us sweetheart," Wanda nibbled on the lobe of your ear as her thumb grazed your clit, pulling a set of delicious mewls from you.

"Go on bunny, be our good girl," Natasha purred, her face now in front of yours as she crouched down before you with a sly smirk.

"That saved a wretch like me," you were alone as you choked out the next line, working your hardest to not get too lost in the pleasure that you forget the words, you weren't sure she wouldn't stop if you did. Wanda sped up her pace in reward, her lips parted as she breathed heavily, seeing you so pliant for them made her heart swell with hope, and she was giddy to see her wife's eyes held the same dream when they locked gazes. Natasha nodded; it was time.

"I once was lost, but now I'm found," all three of you sang the next line in synchrony, "Go on detka, let go, finish the song for us."

Her words felt coded, and as you sang the last line you knew they were, "Was blind, but now I see," your vision blurred as you came a second later, finishing on Wanda's fingers as she'd curled them with a sort of expertise.

"Good girl," Wanda purred, you whimpered at her praise, you felt your walls clench around her fingers, and cried a moment later when she pulled them from you. You were spent, your body now sticky with a thin layer of sweat, your head rested on Wanda's shoulder as your heart pounded in your head, you didn't see nor hear what the women were saying or doing.

You'd never experienced as powerful of an orgasm before, it was very much life changing, and you nearly chuckled that it happened in a church. A place of worship; you surely felt that.

It wasn't until you felt pointed fingertips tap the side of your head that you opened your eyes. Natasha stared down at you with a grin, "What do you say bunny?" You smiled softly, "Thank you mommy," you turned awkwardly to kiss her lips in thanks. "Thank you Father."

Natasha beamed genuinely, loving the way that you understood without much guidance. You were perfect, her wife always had a knack for finding prizes, and she clearly has yet to fail.

Wanda's sticky, glistening fingers flooded your vision a second later as she dipped them into a metal basin, metaphorically washing her hands clean of your sin, but you noticed she left out two of her coated fingers. You watched with a dry mouth as she lifted her hand up to her wife who didn't hesitate to lick it clean, "Sweet..."

You nearly fainted, traces of your slick now layered over her lower lip, shining just right under the dimly lit church lights. Wanda's moan directly into your ear after she tasted you next made your body tremble with renewed need as you kept your eyes locked on her wife's. It felt as if they sought to kill you with their provocations, so sexy in their natural states.

Then, the icing on the cake came when the pastor dipped two of her fingers into the tainted water, stirring it languidly until she was satisfied that your essence had mixed in well.

"Vo imya papy," Natasha chanted in her mother tongue, her thumb dripping with the not so holy water pressed a circle into your forehead, then her hand returned to the bowl, "Mamochki," her thumb swirled over your left cheek, "I dragotsennogo zaychika ty budesh' nashim," and then repeated on the right.

(in the name of the father / mommy / and the precious bunny you will be ours.)

Wanda nearly snorted as the words translated in her mind, her wife always did have an odd sense of humor; you were likely none the wiser.

"Are you ready for more?" Natasha asked, and once you replied her pants were at her ankles. The redhead watched the way your eyes fell to her tented boxers instantaneously, "You see what you did to me bunny? It's aching, and the only remedy is to let me breed your pussy, ok?"

It was a risky game saying yes, you weren't on birth control, and though you wanted kids, you weren't exactly financially stable being on the road, but when you felt Wanda grip your hips a bit tighter, and saw the hopeful look in Nat's eyes you realized your life was about to change.

You nodded, but quickly fixed your mistake, "Please father, fill me up, make me pregnant."

"Oh bunny," Wanda coo'd as her arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, "You're going to have to clean up the mess you made of mommy too," she swiftly shifted from behind you, and gently moved you to lie flat on the ground with her arms still around you. "Can you do that?"

"Of course," you beamed, a bit too excited for such a blessing. "Such a perfect gift you are." Wanda pecked your lips, then booped your nose, a soft moment before all the carnality.

Natasha cock sprung to life as she removed her boxers, she saw the way your eyes widened at her size, then she shifted her gaze as you did. The redhead began to lazily stroke herself as you both watched Wanda slip out of her dress.

"Wow," you gasped, both women chuckled as they took in your enamored features, "You're both so beautiful, a match made in heaven."

The irony of your words seemed to be lost on you in your dizzied state, but both women had to stifle a laugh. With how tonight's transpired, it's unlikely any of you are ever ascending.

"Have you seen yourself bunny?" Natasha spoke, "You've got to be like a fallen angel."

A warmth blossomed beneath your skin, and your bashful smile gave you away, you'd been well worked up as it was, but that did you in.

Within a moments time your brain further short circuited as the brunette straddled your chest, you internally cursed as you felt her wetness dripping down from the swell of your breasts. It was only turning you on more to know you caused any of this, and soon enough you moaned unabashedly as her aromatic arousal was pooling in the divots of your neck.

Wanda tutted as your hands tried to bring her closer, "Patience now bunny, I wanna see your pretty face first when daddy fills you up."

Natasha lined herself up with your hole, she slipped her tip in with ease, yet you clenched. The redhead groaned as you held her in a vice grip, with a harsh thrust of her hips half of her length was sheathed within you. Stretching your walls further than they’d ever been before, you moaned in a high pitch as her thick veins throbbed beneath the crushing pressure of your delighted pussy as you clenched.

Wanda’s legs were growing tired, as was her patience with the pit forming in her stomach, so without warning she slid down your chest and onto your agape mouth. She nearly fell forward as your screams echoed through her pussy, and sent shivers throughout her body.

Natasha had used the distraction of Wanda to fully pull out, then thrust back in until she was bottomed out. Wanda’s loud moan was simply an echo, her body a vessel for your pleasures release, letting Natasha know she was an expert at her craft, with her ego now doubled.

There was a cycle at play here, Wanda knew this very well, Natasha was staving off her release, but all the while ensuring that the both of you came, and well into the double digits.

Wanda was out of lives as you sucked her clit between your teeth harshly when her wife had slapped your clit with incredible force. The way you ate her out was different than she’d ever experienced before, it was a sloppy, tempered kinda carnal, it was so sensual, she could swear she was in Utopia, and she’d once thought she met God when she actually bagged Natasha.

Wanda surged forward, landing painfully onto the hardwood on her hands and knees due to the overstimulation. You barely had a chance to gulp down any air before Natasha was devouring your lips, her tongue greedily entering your mouth, lapping up her wife’s essence as she busts a nut without warning.

Her face falls into the crook of your neck with a pleasurable grimace, she was grunting hotly as she chased after her ever fleeting high, “Fuck!”Sounds reminiscent of a tidal wave could be heard between your legs as she desperately continued to fuck her seed into your womb.

“Oh bunny, daddy can’t wait to see your belly swell, pregnant with our kittens,” she was panting against your neck now as she built herself up to another fast approaching high. This time she completely stills as her orgasm paralyzes her with blinding pleasure, and you writhe as her seed instigates another big O.

Once she regains control of her body she jackhammers her hips into yours with no regard to your cries of anguish. “You’ll be an amazing mom Y/N, so good to all our babies,” she honestly whispered against your sweaty forehead as she laid a kiss there. Natasha had finally grown tired, pleased with her efficiency she finally allowed herself to rest atop of you, and stopped her attack on your sensitive pussy.

Wanda had already finished redressing by the time you and Natasha had finished recovering. Though her panties only grew wet as she watched the two of you beautifully fall apart. Once Natasha pulled out Wanda was kneeling at your side, her left hand cupped your face, while her other cupped your cunt. You hissed at the barest contact, whimpering, “no more,” as her fingers dipped inside, shoving back in the mixed arousal slowly oozing out of you.

Wanda didn’t want to hurt you, so she stopped after a few thrusts, scooping her fingers as she pulled out to bring the arousal to her mouth. You whimpered as she licked one of her digits clean, “Shh, mommy is gonna share bunny.” Wanda pressed her other finger passed your kiss swollen lips, leaving it there for you to suck on in a self soothing manner as she cleaned you up with a warm towel from the church kitchen.

You whined in subtle anguish, but you settled when she smiled at you with a tender gaze. In a haze of minutes for you, Wanda had redressed you and gotten you up onto at least your knees.

"Look at me bunny," Natasha cupped your cheek with a contrasting tenderness to every other touch she'd given you tonight, and she smiled just as tenderly when your hazy eyes lifted to meet hers, "Welcome to the church."

You snorted amusedly, "Thank you father,” your voice hoarse after the many harsh moans.

Natasha smirked down at you, the pad of her thumb ran over your lips, a soft gasp left her when you wrapped your lips around her digit, "Careful sweet girl, trust me, you can't handle another round tonight," her eyes darkened, and you were convinced of her terrifying honesty as you swallowed thickly and released her thumb.

"She's right detka," Wanda guided you to your feet, and kissed you with a natural smile, "Stick around town though, and I promise you we'll see to it that you're properly cared for by us."

"How so?" Wanda smiled, "In all the ways that matter, you could be ours, if you'd want that."

"But you have a date," Natasha reminded you, and you watched Wanda frown while still held tight in her embrace, "I-I was just kidding."

Wanda pressed her lips to your cheek, "That's so delightful to hear sweetheart, we aren't ones for sharing," leaving behind a smudge as she'd just freshly reapplied a layer of her lipstick.

Natasha reached for your hand next, so you extended yours to her, and she pulled you in for a far less tender kiss, but the way she cupped one half of your face told you she held you in an equally as tender regard as her wife.

"We'll see you next Sunday kotenok, drive safely, and don't forget to thank the Lord for all he's done for you in your nightly prayers," she softly pushed you passed the large oak doors, and you turned back to the happy couple with a smile that made their hearts flutter, "Thanks."

Wanda smiled warmly, "Pleasure was ours." Natasha winked at you, adorning that stupid smirk that made your core throb, you slowly wobbled your way back to your RV, a perfect reminder that you definitely did need to rest.

Wanda blew you a kiss, and watched with delight as every wall you had left crumbled as you dopily caught it. "I think I'm in love Natty."

The redhead turned away so she could lock up, "Mhm, she's a perfect fit for us, let's remember to thank God for divining us such a miracle,” suavely turning back around she sent a wink.

Wanda pressed her front into her wives, hands flat against her chest as she gazed up at her in wonder, "Do you think it worked?" Natasha's arms overlapped behind her wives lower back, her face contorted thoughtfully before she leant in to peck her alluring lips, "If it didn't, we'll make sure it does next time, she's ours now."

The couple shared a soft kiss, an excited smile worn on both their faces as they drove home. Soft tunes filled the air as they rode with the top of their mustang down, both women silent as they each dreamt up how to decorate the guest room. If all things worked out well, in a weeks time they hoped to be bringing you back with them, to the place you'll soon call home.

——

1K notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 29 days

Text

Part One

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 4.5K

chapter content info | 18+ angst, discussions of pregnancy, people being WASPy, marital squabbles that become something more serious some of the time, but also real, persistent love

a/n | listen, don't look at me. not gonna lie, it feels good to be back in the ring and i'm excited to share this one with y'all. special thanks to @wannab-urs for beta-ing and for encouraging me along with this one - love ya, twin.

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He looks handsome and he’s getting on her nerves. She looks beautiful and he still doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this. She knows he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this, but she thinks that’s bullshit, kid gloves that she doesn’t need from him, or from anyone for that matter.

He could, but he doesn’t tell her that her left eye is twitching a little bit. Her left eye is twitching a little bit, she blinks hard every time she feels muscle starting to spasm, keeps her face turned away from him and toward the passenger side window.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You keep sighing.”

“I’m just tired.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I meant last week then.”

“Are you taking those multivitamins I got you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I checked the bottle this morning and the safety seal is still on it.”

“Cass.”

“What?”

“I don’t think a multivitamin is going to be the thing that makes me feel less tired.”

“I hate it when you say my name like that.”

“Okay, how should I say it?”

“Nevermind.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just drop it, I don’t want to start the day like this.”

“We’re not starting the day like anything, we’re just having a conversation.”

“Joel, please, I’m not doing this with you right now.” And he asks it before he can think much about it, knee-jerk and maybe a little mean, did you take your pills this morning? Right, going for the nuclear option this morning, she lets out a clipped sound that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so sharp and he wishes there were a way to pluck words out of the air and swallow them back down. And she knows that whatever she says to that is going to be a failure. If she gets angry, if she blows up, she’s crazy. If she informs him that she did, in fact, take her pills, then she’s a liar, because she did, in fact, not take her pills, so she’s even crazier, right.

“You know, that’s a fucked thing to ask me.” Ring the bell because she’s won this round. He thinks about offering her an apology, a glance while they’re stopped at a red light that only affords him the slope of her cheek and her hair tucked behind her ear with the way her face is turned away from him. He sighs and it makes her shoulders hike up a little higher.

There’s a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister when they pull up, and of course there is a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister, she thinks, because Tommy and Maria are having a girl, and that’s lovely, and she is going to smile when she gets out of the car because of how lovely that is. Already thinking about what her face will have to do to make that smile happen while he parks at the end of the driveway because they’re a little late, always a little late these days. At least they have a clear and present escape route, he thinks.

“Here, let me.” He does, stays still while she runs her fingers up behind the collar of his shirt to smooth it down, and she thinks that she’s not the only one trying to buy a little more time. Made it out of the car, but still standing in front of the car, he has always liked the feeling of her palms splayed over his chest, hums and thanks her for fixing his collar, leans in for a quick smacking thing of a kiss that she gives back to him all ease, and he thinks that maybe they’ll get to be normal today.

“Remind me again what we got them?”

“Bottle warmer and a set of swaddling blankets.”

“What, they can’t use hot water from the tap like everyone else?” That gets him a clipped laugh from her, and he knows he’s bordering on something tender that could snap and snarl if he says any more, so he takes the laugh and leaves it at that. She laughs, feels stupid for the heat that thickens and closes in behind it and hides the flush from him by collecting the gifts from the trunk. Pastel pink and perfect wrapping paper with thin ribbon curled and bouncing. She briefly considers how it would feel to rip it all to pieces. But no, none of that, because this is Tommy and Maria, and she loves Tommy and Maria, really, she does, so happy for Tommy and Maria. Happy, happy, happy.

Maria is the one who opens the door, all smiles, all round because she made it to the third trimester. He glances at Cass as they enter into the usual greetings and congratulations, leaning hugs and Tommy somewhere in the fray. Cassandra thinks she’s doing a good job of smiling but she can’t really feel her mouth, letting her lungs collapse a little when Tommy pulls her in for a quick squeeze, hey, Cassie, good to see you. And maybe it’s the lack of pills in her system but is he? Is it? Verging a little close to hostage negotiator territory? Talking to her like she’s a skittish horse? Because, apparently, it’s not just Joel, but the whole clan who seems to expect her to have a hard time with this. His and Tommy’s parents smile and pet at her shoulders when they see her, that same so good to see you, as if they didn’t just see her a month ago for the fourth of July barbecue, as if she’s the one who’s–

“I appreciate y’all being here, I know Maria does too.” Everyone in the backyard even though it’s already pushing eighty degrees, linen dresses and blue jeans and fluted glasses filled with orange juice and something a little stiffer. He squints at Tommy, nods, of course, lets his eyes drift out over mingling friends and family, settling on Cass. She’s smiling, mouth moving around easy words in a small cluster of women. Her arm is curled across her stomach, elbow held in hand, drink held aloft. She is doing fine, he thinks, good. And of course she’s doing fine, everything fine, and he’s fine too. Her eyes catch his and her smile stays, and he feels one of his own, there and gone. They are doing fine.

“Is Cass, you know, doing alright?”

“Oh yeah, she’s doing fine.”

She can feel sweat starting to collect along the waistband of her underwear, a cool, nauseous shiver, so terrible running beneath the skin. Someone, she can’t remember the name, a friend of Maria’s, is saying something about tits. Well, she doesn’t use the word tits, no, that word couldn’t come out of her baby pink painted lips. Breasts, and Cassandra curls her lips back into her mouth to stop herself from offering up mammary glands, if you want to be so proper about it, smiling and mmhmming instead about stretch marks and leakage and sore, seaming skin. Not that she’d know anything about it, not really. But all the other women do, something close to sharing war stories, all the space the body can make, and what remains when it’s empty once again. Now that, empty, she knows a thing or two about empty.

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“You wanna know what I hear from her? Is mom there? And then can you put her on?” Tommy laughs, continuing to make quick work out of carving up another watermelon, pink, pink, pink while Joel enjoys a second to breathe in the air conditioned kitchen. Almost eleven, and they’re going to do cake at almost eleven, and he supposes he doesn’t really know what the etiquette is for things like these so sure, he thinks, cake at almost eleven.

“I guess dad’s advice can only work for so long, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s a freshman in college, man, you don’t remember what we were like at that age?”

“I’d rather not, thanks.” And the truth is he remembers very little of that time. Playing at boy king, at living forever, and then the flashbang burst and bloom, obliteration and letting the shrapnel boomerang back together when Sarah came. And then, he thinks, back out on the porch and squinting at the sun threaded through the branches of an elm tree, then, it was a sort of crawl in those first few years.

What he remembers, very little eye contact from anyone, and wanting it more than anything. Never expecting the father to be the one to stay, the very young, very bleary-eyed father who eventually learned to stop looking for other eyes to meet his. Yes, a crawl, kept his head down until one day, two-year-old in tow in the grocery store, looking at pouches of pureed sweet potatoes and peaches, someone ducked her head down alongside his, looked him in the eye, and asked him if it was his wallet she found at the end of the aisle. For the record, it wasn’t his, but he can’t remember who it got returned to any more. That Tina Turner song was playing over the speakers, he remembers that. What’s love got to do with it, what’s love got to do with a HEB on a Wednesday night? Just enough for him to keep going to the HEB on Wednesday nights, hoping to run into the woman who looked him in the eye and told him his daughter was beautiful and had his smile.

“How many do you and Joel have, Cassandra?” Must have been smiling and nodding a little too well to get that question from Sally, Sammy? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. Maria needs better friends, she thinks, or maybe just less of them for her to keep track of.

“Oh, just one. Sarah started college this year actually.” And the usual sequence of snobbery that follows her sharing that detail. Yes, had her very young, yes, must be so proud, and she is proud, she can mean that yes, at least.

“But she’s not yours, is that right?”

“Excuse me?” Excuse you, Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are. Excuse you in your baby blue linen dress and your fuckass bob. Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is, eats her words fast, quick flickers of french tips and well, I just mean, not yours biologically, you know, I think Maria mentioned something about you adopting her when you and Joel got married. Said with that pitch that winches higher and higher with each word like a question going nowhere. She clasps her hands behind her back and digs her nails into the soft of her palms until the urge to throttle Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is passes.

“Yeah, well, she’s not mine in that way. But I’ve been in her life since she was two so, I think that matters a little more than if she slid out of my vagina.” Shit, slipped, should not have said that, gets a glossed gasp from the peanut gallery and she’s just glad Maria is off hostessing with other people right now, not bearing witness to the way she just slaughtered this conversation with the sharp of her words. Excuse her Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are, and excuse her, all the rest of you, she needs to get out of the heat, out of the sun, out of whatever this is.

He knows what looks mean what by now. A pinched brow, a frown that’s just barely a frown. She breezes past the kitchen with one hand pressed high against her stomach as if to make sure the rise and fall is still happening. Says her name once and she waves a hand behind her, already halfway down the hall and not turning around now, sorry, just need the bathroom. Tommy’s eyes do that thing, that softening, slipping thing, looking at him and not asking the question, though it hangs in the air somewhere between them. He excuses himself, walks slowly enough that the bathroom door is already shut and locked by the time he gets to it. The faucet is running, all he hears when he says her name again, feeling like a perfect fool knocking on the door. Not the first time this has happened, and she feels more foolish every time it does. But he’s already asked her if she’s taken her pills today so at the very least, that question is out of the way. Or maybe he’ll ask it again, and maybe she’ll break something, and then report back to her OB-GYN who, for some reason, is the one prescribing her these pills, and tell her OB-GYN that she’s getting crazier and needs more pills that she’ll forget to take. Repeat ad nauseam. No, she thinks, too tired for any of that, two years too tired. She presses her fingers into her temples and closed eyes until the throb in her skull begins to still.

“Do you want to go home?” He doesn’t know how to handle this, not really. Seems to get it wrong more often than not, and sometimes his own frustration turns into meanness that makes it worse, he knows that. He doesn’t know how to deal with her any more, she knows that. The truth is she doesn’t even know how to deal with herself any more, everything always raw and hurting, blistered brain and aching heart and wilting like a frail, flimsy thing. She does alright keeping it tamped down most of the time, keeping it cool and closed off. But, there are times when it flares, like a thin flume of disease nested somewhere deep inside of her. During things like these, around people like these, and the month of April, forget about it.

“I said something a little awful, I think.” Sheepish, the door still only cracked, enough that he can see that she isn’t crying so, little lift of relief in his chest, at least.

“What’s that?” He slips in through the half-opened door and she lets him, shuts the door behind him and tells him, may have snapped, may have used the word vagina. It’s a relief to hear him laugh, a single breath of it like he’s not sure if he should. He touches her hand, her wrist, her elbow, little pulse points, half a tired smile.

“There are worse words to use.”

“Could have said cunt.” She shrugs and you’d think he’d have gotten used to her surprising him like that after sixteen years together, but it’s still a giddy little shock to the system, her brass and brash. Like another vital sign, so long as she has her fang she’s fine, at least he thinks so.

“Yeah, that.” He laughs again, coughs, heat flushing down fast in his face and there’s a quick kick in her chest at the sight, something dormant getting stirred up. She likes that look, coaxing that look out of him. The first time, way out of line and out of place, she thinks. Fresh out of college and buying condoms and pretzel rods at the HEB down the block from her apartment and she shouldn’t have, pretty guy, man, father with pretty brown eyes and a little girl in the seat of his shopping cart with pretty brown eyes like his and she shouldn’t have. Thought she was so smooth, pretending like the wallet she showed him wasn’t hers, like she had found it on the linoleum floor, yeah, so smooth, just looking for a reason to shuffle down the baby food aisle and talk to pretty guy, man, father. That same flush, that same smile, little shock, though he had caught her too, taking a sharp glance down at her basket before she could tuck it behind her legs. And then her turn, little shock when he made some joke about little late for me, for that, shrug and smile and yes, she thinks, she didn’t exactly love him right then and there, but whatever comes right before love, it was that.

“Listen, if it’s getting to be too much for you we can–” Wrong, all wrong, sound in the back of her throat like a scoff that’s how wrong those words were.

“Why does everyone seem to think this is too much for me? It’s a fucking baby shower, not a, I don’t even know what. I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s Tommy’s and Maria’s day and I’m so happy for them that they’re having a–” It catches her off guard, the way the sound gets stuck in her throat, not quite a sob, but verging on it, hiccuping out the rest, a baby. He reaches for her arm again but she jerks it away, hands clasping opposite elbows, all tucked in on herself.

“It’s okay if it’s not fine, you know, nobody is expecting you to–”

“Nobody is expecting me to keep it together, right?”

“Would you let me finish speaking?” No, never winning any points for patience, ever. Not too many for thinking before he speaks either. Her face crumples for a breath, if that, smoothing back out with a scoff, I’m so sorry, Joel, what were you going to say? No, not normal, not today. He wonders briefly how long they’ve been in the bathroom now, and whether they’ve been speaking loudly enough to draw attention to the fact of how long they’ve been in the bathroom now.

“You know what, forget it. If you say you’re fine then I guess you’re fine. Can we just get through fucking cake and leave, please?” She’s very good at this, at turning herself off, something cool and distant slipping over her eyes, her face, shoulders rolled back sharp. Of course, she says, whatever you say, she says, doesn’t give him another glance as she opens the bathroom door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t standing here long, just waiting to use the–”

“Cunt.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Cut– I had a cut and I needed Joel to look at it but I’m fine, right, Joel? Aren’t I fine?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer that, doesn’t give Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is a chance to say any more either, already moving past both of them and back toward the sound of laughter and cake, fucking cake about to happen.

He needs to keep his mouth shut, all he can figure. Keep his mouth shut and maybe, maybe, they’ll get through fucking cake without any more seams splitting. Nothing like this when Sarah came, no balloons, no perfectly frosted and tiered cake with a whole cluster of people around it, and he thinks briefly that maybe he’s the one who isn’t fine being here. Like an ache, or an absence, a place inside of him that has been scooped out and left empty. He doesn’t let himself get sad about it often, mostly because he’s too busy being angry about it with (at?) Cass. But he feels it now, a sinking, swimming feeling that weighs everything down, slow to smile when Maria hands him a plate with a slice of cake on it.

She takes a plate and pushes around globs of pink icing with her fork for a while, standing in another cluster of people she doesn’t really know, one of the women commenting on how good she’s being when she sets her plate down on the kitchen counter, smile and laugh, though the truth is she’s not sure she could stomach pretty pink icing right now. A small mercy when Tommy steps over alongside her and effectively relieves her of having to continue pretending to be interested in a conversation about kitchen remodels.

“Looking a little green, Cassie, you alright?”

“I think the heat got to me, but I’ll survive. Congratulations again, you guys are going to be great, really.” And she hopes he interprets the pitch, the little catch of her words as a good emotion that is entirely for him and his family. Not anything else, not anything that would be entirely ridiculous and well, crazy, on her part.

“I just want to say thank you again for giving us all that furniture, and the clothes, we really–”

“Oh of course, Tom, you did us a favor taking all that stuff. It’s not like we were going to–” Going to what? She doesn’t finish that sentence, and Tommy doesn’t need her to, already nodding, already that look in his eyes that she has come to recognize as thinly-concealed pity. Not like they were ever going to have a use for that furniture, those clothes, not again, not after. A foreclosed room in their house that stayed as silent and shut up as a tomb, and then the happy, happy, happy news from Tommy and Maria and of course, they said, take whatever you want, take it all, actually. The room is empty now. The door stays closed.

He wants to leave and he wants to leave now. The walls creeping in closer and that hollow thing in between his ribs starting to ache and twinge. He catches her eyes from across the room and it takes little else for a knowing to pass between them, both of them already moving, already starting a string of polite goodbyes, friends and family, sorry, yes, really have to go, it’s becoming hard to breathe, really have to go.

Early in the afternoon and the sun so bright it makes him a little dizzy when they step outside. He follows the sound of her heels on the sidewalk back to the car, relief in the closing of the door, in settling into the driver’s seat.

She feels like her brain is deflating in her skull. Enough normal for the day, don’t ask her for any more than that. She props her head in her hand and lets her eyes unfocus, turning the suburban streets they're driving through into pale blurs of minivans and basketball hoops. And there is little fanfare to what happens next, she glances at him once, then looks out the window, hears a metallic clink, and when she looks at him again, there’s a cigarette dangling from his lips. It’s so absurd, so out of nowhere, that she has to laugh.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t know. Tommy’s a bad influence.”

“Tommy quit.”

“Well then I did him a favor finishing off all his packs.”

“Joel.”

“Yes?”

“How did I miss you picking up smoking again?”

“It’s not like I do it around the house, I know you don’t like the smell.”

“Oh, but you’re happy to trap me in the car with it?”

“The windows are down.”

“Secondhand smoke.”

“Would you prefer to get out at the next red light?”

“You know, you’re probably gonna die before me. Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m serious. Statistically speaking, men die first–”

“I wonder why.”

“Cardiac events.”

“That tracks.”

“You’re already two years older than me and now you’re doing shit like this and I’m probably gonna be like, sixty-eight and a widow, and then I’ll die of stress from being a sixty-eight-year-old widow.”

“Are you done?”

“Oh fuck you–”

“Hey.”

“No, what next, huh? Are you gonna ask me if I took my pills again?”

“Well, did you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Jesus Christ, Cass, it’s like you don’t even want to get better, you don’t even try.” Silence, she doesn’t fire back, doesn’t make a sound, her lips parted around a wordless frown. The only noise is the turn signal clicking as he pulls into a gas station, his heart sunk down low in his chest, shrinking back in on itself. Too far, too mean, and not even knowing what he was saying until he said it, until she was looking at him in a devastated crumple.

He parks beside a pump but doesn’t get out, doesn’t move at all, really. Waiting. For what, he isn’t sure. When he looks at her again, that stricken look is gone, something slackening, something tired settled in its place.

“Do you remember when you stopped shaving and you asked me if your beard looked stupid and I told you it didn’t?”

“Uh, yes.”

“I lied. Your beard does look stupid.” And with that, she’s out of her seat, out of the car, and clipping fast toward the convenience store, not sparing him another look. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

The light flickers a little in the convenience store bathroom when she flips it on, locking the door behind her just as the first sob shudders up and out of her throat. She doesn’t look in the mirror, she has no use for that, just grips the edge of the sink and allows herself this, a few minutes to get the worst of it out.

He had finished pumping gas ten minutes ago when she comes back out with a bottle of snapple lemonade tucked under her arm. She has been crying, he can see. He doesn’t know why she always hides it from him. It catches him off guard when she walks around the front of the car to stand in front of his rolled-down window, something bordering on sheepish in the set of her expression, her eyes doing a quick loop from her feet back up to him.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think your beard is stupid.”

“Okay.”

“I like it, think you look handsome with it.”

“Honey, will you get in the car, please?” She does, offers him the bottle of lemonade and they both take a swig, waiting for whatever words are supposed to come next. A car honks at them, still at the pump, and he has enough sense to wave an apology behind his head and pull over into a parking spot instead.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Cass? That was a stupid thing for me to say. I didn’t mean that.” She wants to say no, not a stupid thing to say, not unfair, not really. But that would be an admission she doesn’t want to make, so she nods, accepts his apology, both of them having a hard time looking at the other, suddenly so interested in the brick wall of the convenience store.

“We can’t keep doing this.” She doesn’t realize how much she means that until she’s done saying it. Finally saying it, this truth they have been scrapping and snapping around for months now. He says, no, we can’t, and she braces for impact, anticipating the worst, the nuclear option, and she wouldn’t blame him for it. But that blow doesn’t come. He takes her hand over the center console, as simple as anything, and she is reminded again of how much she loves him.

“Something has to change.”

“I think so.”

“We can figure this out, can’t we?”

“It’s us.” As if that’s an answer, though he still nods, repeats it back to her, it’s us. It’s them. They can’t keep doing this. They have to change. They can figure this out, can’t they?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!oc

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zablife · 1 month

Text

Now You Know the Truth (Part 7)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: Dr. Holford comes to answer questions about Tommy's condition and you play your part as the supportive wife...perhaps too well.

Author's Note: My readers have spoken via poll, calling for a happy(ish) ending for this series. However, I also heard those of you who craved a dose of evil. I hope you enjoy the ending I've crafted for this twisted tale. I have to admit, I find it quite satisfying!

Warnings: medical situations, inaccurate medical advice, manipulation

Part 6

"If left untreated, the consequences would be dire," Dr. Holford concluded as silence blanketed the room.

Tommy stood from his desk and began pacing slowly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he began to shake his head in disagreement. "If," he mumbled disgustedly. He cast a long shadow where he stood above the doctor's chair, glowering as he pronounced, "You don't know a bloody thing about what's going to happen."

"Tommy, please, you promised to listen," you began, exchanging a worried glance with Dr. Holford.

"While you are correct that I do not know the exact course of events, I can say with certainty it is not a matter of if but when you succumb. Your wife tells me you enjoy race horses, playing the odds. Well let me assure you these percentages are not in your favor, sir. " Although the doctor tried to adopt a more forceful tone, Tommy only scoffed in reply.

"You people and your percentages. Wasn't it your doctors who told my aunt the gold salts worked without fail?" he asked, eyebrow cocked defiantly.

"As I've explained, your condition is quite different and the treatment I'm offering is a new cure," the doctor assured. "It's less invasive and we would keep your confinement to the absolute minimum."

Tommy stood rubbing his temples as he considered the gravity of the situation. Finally he asked through gritted teeth, "How long?"

"I'm afraid we won't know until we've begun, but cases similar to yours have taken less than six months,” Dr. Holford advised, mouth twitching slightly as he spoke. Every moment spent deceiving your husband was wearing down his defenses and you prayed Tommy wouldn't notice the poorly concealed nervous tremor.

Tommy grumbled as he reached for his cigarette case, a rumble of dissatisfaction issuing forth. "I'm a busy man, doctor. My business interests combined with the care of my pregnant wife….That isn't possible," he concluded, the snap of his lighter finalizing the decision hastily.

Rising to your feet, you placed a hand to Tommy's forearm gently. "That's exactly why you must get well soon," you pleaded. "I need you, Tom," you said with as much sincerity as you could muster.

Though you could feel his icy blue eyes upon you, a sudden waft of smoke created a veil between you. Momentarily, you were transported to Dr. Holford's office and the moment your final plan for Tommy took shape.

I will insist he get well and thus he will refuse to go. That’s when you must present the second option. However, Tommy must be thoroughly convinced in order to believe he's chosen it for himself.

Yes, but are you certain this is what you want, Mrs. Shelby? The effects would be irreversible.

As you refocused on Tommy's crystal irises, Dr. Holford's voice came wafting over your shoulder like a siren call. "There is another way.”

Tommy broke from you suddenly, attempting to hide his curiosity and failing when he rushed out the words, “Go on.”

Sitting forward, the doctor explained, “Some colleagues of mine have shared their research on an experimental procedure to remove the tumor instead of attempting to shrink it.”

“A simpler, more effective solution?” Tommy mused.

“More painful perhaps, but certainly less time to execute,” the doctor conceded with quickening breath, his knee bouncing slightly as he cut his eyes toward you. “And the results would be..." he paused for emphasis, "immediate."

Your eyes gleamed at his word choice, hopeful Tommy would seize upon his promise.

“Pain is the least of my concerns,” Tommy replied gruffly, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray forcefully.

You could tell by his determination, he had made up his mind without you having to ask, but you voiced the question for Dr. Holford's benefit. "Then you'll agree to put this behind us before the baby arrives?" you prodded.

He only nodded with clenched jaw as Dr. Holford reached into his briefcase for the consent forms.

"Fucking get on with it then," Tommy announced to no one in particular as he signed them and stormed out of the room.

"Thank you," you mouthed to the doctor.

He returned your show of appreciation with a small, but triumphant nod.

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

One year later...

"There she is! There's mummy!" Frances called in sing song, crossing the lawn to bring you a wriggling infant.

"Did you have a lovely nap, my darling?" you asked the tiny raven haired cherub, her bright blue eyes catching the light and glinting back at you mischievously. At times she looked so much like Tommy, it stole your breath.

"Not long enough," Frances replied with apologetic eyes. "Mr. Shelby woke her ma'am. I'm awfully sorry."

"Is he wandering the halls again?" you sighed.

"I'm afraid so, but the nurse is coming to fetch him,” she assured you.

"No, there’s no need," you replied with a cheerful smile. "We’ll tend to daddy, won’t we?” you asked your child, hoisting her onto your hip as Frances went back to her other duties. Meanwhile your daughter gurgled back at you happily and you stopped to admire her, heart flooding with overwhelming joy.

Strolling back through the well manicured grounds you surveyed the magnificent face of Arrow House. “This will all be yours one day,” you promised placing a kiss to her temple. “Mummy saw to it because I love you so,” you cooed to her in the soothing voice reserved for bedtime fairy tales.

As you rounded the corner to the room that you once shared with your husband, you sighed softly at the sight of him sitting on the bed, struggling to unbutton his shirt. A maid passed you in the hall, offering a sympathetic smile. “Mr. Shelby looks well today,” she chirped encouragingly, her green eyes shining with admiration for your bravery.

In truth, everyone looked upon you with kindness after the unfortunate outcome of your husband’s brain surgery. Though docile and calm, he had been left simple minded, relying on you for every decision.

“I think you’re right, Mary,” you agreed, closing the door to your husband’s room for privacy.

Bringing your daughter to his bedside, you watched him slowly form the words to greet her, a lazy smile settling on his face before returning to his task. Placing her on the floor to play, you turned back to help him remove his shirt and swing his legs into bed.

You pulled the covers up to his chin and pushed the fringe from his forehead, watching as his empty eyes gazed back at you. All the spite and malice of years past erased with no hint of the formidable man he once was. At times it made you believe you could love him if not for the suffering that came before, which you could neither forgive nor forget.

Pulling back to study him, your face hardened involuntarily at the memory of all the years you spent under the reign of his cruelty. How the tide had turned, you thought as you watched your now frail husband draw breath.

"Y/n?" he called out, hand reaching from beneath the duvet to reach for you. "My love?"

Leaning forward to tuck him in, your lips brushed past his ear whispering, “How long have you been dead for, darling? Lost inside your mind. Have you forgotten?" Your breath fanned over him in a gentle wave, making him shudder slightly and you relished it.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile as you hissed, "I'm not yours any longer, but make no mistake you are mine until the day you die." Then you leaned down to retrieve your daughter, walking away to leave him sputtering in distress.

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

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #dark!Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby

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queenshelby · 2 months

Text

MINI SERIES: THE SLAVE

PAIRING: TOMMY SHELBY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL LOSS OF VIRGINITY, CAPTURED READER, SLAVE READER, TOMMY GETTING OFF ON PAIN

NOTE: AGAIN THIS WAS A REQUEST AND I FELT A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE PUBLISHING IT...VERY DARK!

Just as he had promised, later that night and when you were already fast asleep following some serious exhaustion after what had transpired, Tommy entered your room at around one o'clock.

The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated his figure as he approached the bed where you laid sprawled out.

Without bothering to wake you, he took off his briefs and gave his cock a few strokes, causing it to stand tall and erect, before he gently climbed on to the bed.

He nestled his knees on either side of your waist, positioning himself directly above you. With one arm supporting his weight, he reached down to push your panties to the side, exposing your rather sore and swollen mound.

The sensation startled you and you woke up with a jolt, gasping at the unexpected sensation of Tommy aligning his member with your torn hole.

"I am tired," you whined, squirming underneath him but your efforts proved futile as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them beside your head.

"Sshh," he hushed you, his warm breath caressing your ear. "You know that you are mine now, Love. And I'm going to use you however I please," Tommy said smugly, his cock throbbing against your sensitive entrance before, with one forceful thrust, he plunged himself into you.

You gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the renewed intrusion.

"Just relax," he growled, grinding himself against you, his erection burrowing deeper and deeper into your aching hole. "It's just going to be a quick fuck and then you can go back to sleep, eh?" Tommy whispered into your ear, his voice laced with lust.

"You know that my needs come first, don't you?" He said, his tone matter-of-factly, as he adjusted his position above you. The heat of his body radiated onto you, and you could smell the musky scent of his arousal.

"Don't worry, I am almost done," he murmured, his fingers digging into your hips as he began to thrust into you again.

He thrust harder, his cock driving deeper into you with each movement.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "My beautiful little whore." Tommy's voice was husky, full of lust as he admired the way your body trembled beneath him.

"You know that I can't resist your sweet little pussy, Love," he rasped, pulling out and thrusting back into you roughly. "All I can think about is getting my cock deeper inside you." he hummed, relishing the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your body until, finally, with a loud groan, he exploded inside you, filling you up with his seed.

You gasped, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. This was your life now, serving a man who saw you as nothing more than a sex object.

As he climbed off of you, you could feel his cum trickling down your leg and onto the bedsheets. The smell of sex lingered in the air, and all you wanted to do was clean up and fall back asleep.

Despite exhaustion, you listened to his heavy footsteps recede down the hallway, the sound of them fading away until they vanished completely before you made your way to the bathroom.

Washing yourself off in the shower, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions: shame, disgust, anger, fear, and resignation. Yet, you also discovered a newfound longing for release from this torment, a desperate wish for freedom from him.

"Maybe if I try to escape," you thought to yourself, "maybe if I run far enough away, he won't find me." But deep down, you knew the truth: he had power, influence, and connections. Escaping would be impossible. At least for now.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 months

Text

Idle Hands

I'm clearing out my drafts, so please enjoy this super short one shot. I'm not all that happy with this, but I've been working on it for months, and if I kept working on it, it was never going to get posted.

Contains: Historically inaccuracy around coconut oil and rum, fluff, smut (P in V).

933 words

John gets bored on your spa vacation.

When Tommy suggested you and John go to one of those new fandangled spa resorts by the sea to take a break from the rush and smoggy air of Birmingham, you knew it would be a change. What you didn't know was how bored you were going to be, one can only soak in the Grecian pool so much.

When you returned from your spa treatment, John was lying on one of the couches in your room, naked under the towel wrapped around his waist as he read the Birmingham Times, looking disinterested. You walked behind the loveseat and wrapped your arms around his body as he twisted himself to kiss you. He pulled back with a smile and took a deep breath. "You smell like that fancy rum we give to the Toffs at the Eden Club, the one from the Caribbean."

"Yes, I just spent the last hour getting a coconut oil massage." It was nice, but even a trained masseuse had nothing on John's strong, capable hands. You made the short journey around the seat and sat next to him, but he grinned and lifted you onto his lap. "What are you doing?"

His eyes filled with mischief as he placed his hand on your thigh. "I got lonely without you."

His calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh, his trigger finger the roughest as they slowly slid closer to the leg opening of your loose linen shorts. "I'm sorry, Dearest. You could have come with me. They did have a couples option."

He started running his fingertips up and down your leg, from your knee to just inside your shorts and back again, before letting out a sigh. "I'm bored shitless, love. There's nothing to do here."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I can think of a few things."

The way he grinned and tilted his head told you the game was on, and a bulge radially grew in the towel as he pulled you into a kiss. You couldn't decide whether to remove his towel or your shirt, and the room filled with laughter as your hands collided midair in the rush to choose. The towel fell away as the knot came undone, and a moment later, his hands found your bare skin.

He palmed your breasts as his lust filled eyes raked over your body. "You're so fucking beautiful." He pushed himself up and pulled you further onto his lap as his lips found yours with force, his teeth meeting your flesh as his hand moved to your lower back to press you to his hard cock. The kiss turned softer as his other hand made its way to your core.

He smiled into the kiss as his fingers ran through the mess between your legs. He swallowed your moans as he zeroed in on your clit and dug your nails into his ample bicep as your head fell against his chest. He was infuriating sometimes; his need to take his time and enjoy it like he was walking through an interactive art gallery made you far more desperate than you were willing to admit. "John, please, you had your fun this morning, have mercy on me."

His chest rumbled with a chuckle, and you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his plump lower lip as he brought his fingers down to your entrance. Just as you were preparing to protest again, he pulled his fingers away and grabbed his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. "Well, hop on Love." He held himself steady as you slid down and settled into his lap.

You stayed still, adjusting to his size as one of his hands landed on your lower back while the other found your cheek. His fingertips brushed your cheekbone as you started to rock your hips, and his nose bumped yours as affection poured from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest as he took over the pace and you buried your head in his neck as your nerves lit up like the night sky during a bomb run.

He hit his stride, and an inferno followed the path his hand made from your back to your clit as he rubbed it in tight circles while your breath caught in your chest. Your teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder as the sparks of pleasure grew overwhelming while the steady pressure of his cock on your G-spot made your thighs twitch against his firm body.

He was grunting like an animal, snapping his hips up at the end of each stroke to kiss your cervix before pulling out almost all the way and starting again. Your nails dug into his skin and opened your mouth to warn him of your oncoming fall over the edge, but he already knew and took you in a searing kiss as he pushed you over it. Your world spun as you landed on your back and he folded you like a pretzel as used all his leverage to slam into you.

It was so much it almost ached, but just as you were about to try to beg for mercy between desperate breaths, you felt him pulse inside you, and his weight collapsed on top of you while his chest heaved and his hips stuttered with aftershocks. He took a deep breath, and you felt his lips fall all across your face in gentle kisses. "You right, Love?"

You nodded. "I'm great. Are you still bored?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm great too."

Fin

#john shelby smut #john shelby fanfiction #joe cole #peaky blinders fanfiction #john shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #john shelby/you #john shelby/reader #peaky blinders smut

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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months

Text

i'm not the only one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | You have your baby. You have your family. But can you really have everything you want? Can you really have your cake and eat it too?

Warnings | Fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, small children (in my world they need to come with a warning because ew), let's say it one more time for old times sake: TOMMY GETTING CUCKED BECAUSE HE LOVES IT, dirty talk, fingering (f) and allusions to other smut.

Word Count | 1.9k

Authors Note | Wow. I just wanted to take some time to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported me through this little fic. What started as a filthy little one-shot has become something super special to me. I'm so proud with how this turned out and I really hope that you love this ending as much as I do. I need to say a massive thank you to the JFC - @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers for continuously losing their mind over this fic with me and helping me come up with the ending where no-one gets their heart broken, I love you girls more than I can express 🧡 Thank you to each and every person who has read this, has given me their love, interacted with me and generally just made me the happiest girl for deciding to come back to fic writing. You're all awesome and I love each and every one of you. Please let me know what you thought of this, either by commenting, reblogging or sending me some love in my ask box, and if you'd like to support me with a donation, you can do so over on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late September sun is still warm, even as it begins dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. The beer in your bottle is lukewarm, but you finish it off anyway, attention dropping to your son, sat on your knee, as you bounce it up and down to keep him occupied at the table. He’s just turned two and is a much better table companion at Joel’s birthday cook-out than he had been last year. He’s starting to show a little personality, babbling along when Sarah tried to talk to him, teasing Tommy when he hands his son a toy, throwing it to the ground because he already knows he’ll pick it right back up and play along.

Everyone else has long gone by this point in the evening. This year’s celebration of Joel’s birthday being held at your house because he’s having his garden landscaped. It’s just the five of you, the people who matter most to you in life, sat around, finishing drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Sarah yawns to your left, the day finally catching up with her.

“You tired, bug?” Joel asks, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“I’m not tired.” But she yawns again, chuckles erupting from the table.

You poke at her arm, “Your room is ready whenever you are.” It had already been agreed that Sarah and Joel would stay here tonight, so he could have a drink and enjoy his birthday without worrying about driving home.

To her credit, she lasts another hour sat at the table, but once Joshua starts fussing as well, it’s clear it’s time for everyone to call it a night. Joel kisses Sarah on the forehead, wishing her a goodnight as she heads inside. Tommy takes Joshua from your arms and presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaving you and Joel together for the first time that evening. You reach out your arm across the table, palm up to the darkening sky, Joel’s own, much larger hand, slipping into it.

“Shall we go?” You ask, the smile across your face mirroring his own.

“I think we should.”

As you’re walking through the neighbourhood your mind drags back to this time last year and the conversation with Tommy as Joel’s birthday loomed on the horizon.

“What do you think we should get him for his birthday?” Tommy asked, flipping through the catalogue of construction gear that comes through the letterbox every few months, “He was saying his toolbox is too small these days, maybe we can get him a bigger one?”

Joshua is cradled against your chest, suckling as you feed him. You’d always wondered how the other women you knew could multitask before he’d been born. One of your best friends could breastfeed her child, cook dinner and talk to her older daughter all at the same time. Now, standing in the kitchen feeding your son, two pans on the stovetop as you cook, holding a conversation with Tommy, you realise it just came naturally.

“I mean, we can,” You throw over your shoulder, “But I think that man deserves more than a toolbox for his birthday.”

Once Joshua has finished feeding, you hand him to Tommy, along with placing a rag over his shoulder – you fed him, Tommy gets to burp him, that’s the deal.

“I just feel bad,” You comment, going back to pushing the steak around the pan, “Do you not feel like you’ve kinda just abandoned him a little?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, patting his son on the back.

You sigh, trying to focus on cooking as you speak, “I just mean that he did this for us, gave us this life we have now, and what are we going to do to thank him? Give him a toolbox? Just seems like we don’t care.”

“Well, what would you suggest?” He asks, you're quiet in response, trying to think of how best to put this, "You miss him, don't you?" He finally asks.

You turn around, leaning against the counter to the side of the stove, “I do miss him,” You say simply, not afraid to admit it, “You said before Joshua was born that you understood the connection we have, I just want to give him something good.”

Tommy has Joshua cradled in his arms now, trying to get him to go to sleep so he can lie him down and enjoy dinner with you in peace, "You wanna fuck him for his birthday?" There's a smirk on his lips, just like there was when you'd needed Joel before Joshua was born.

“Hey, language!” You chastise, pointing to his son in his arms, “Don’t say it like that either, you know you come first, you always have, I love you Tommy, but can’t we just give him one time, once a year, where I can really show him how grateful I am for what he gave us?”

You can see him mull it over in his mind as he bounces his son in his arms before he relents, “Okay,” He’s smiling, and it reaches his eyes, so you know he really means it, “If that’s what you want, I’m happy.”

You smile, walking over to kiss him, “I don’t deserve you,” You murmur against his lips, “I love you so very much, Tommy Miller.”

Joel thinks, as he walks hand in hand with you back to his home, that he really didn’t need this. He didn’t need thanking for what he’d done. He remembers walking into your hospital room with Sarah after Joshua had been born – she’d insisted on picking the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers for you and had been so excited to finally meet her nephew. He’d pushed open the door for her that day and had been overcome with a strange sense of satisfaction.

You were propped up in bed, Joshua cradled in your arms, his tiny hand clutched around one of your fingers, Tommy stood, hand brushing your hair as he looked down at the both of you with pure adoration. He knew he’d given you everything in that moment, that he’d managed to make the two of you the happiest people ever, and that was enough. A fleeting moment in time between you and him, that had created the most beautiful baby boy he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d been happy to let it lie, to wait and see if you wanted more and came back to him down the line.

He hadn’t expected that on his birthday last year, you’d have cornered him and kissed him with such passion that he wasn’t sure he’d survive once he pulled away from you. Then you explained, one night a year, he could choose when, where you could show him how thankful you were to him. A night just to yourselves, without Tommy’s eyes trailing over you both. Secret and sacred between the two of you.

Once Joel has unlocked his front door and brought you inside, he wastes no time. He craves this, has spent the last year thinking of the moment he gets to fuse his lips with yours. It’s soft, as his mouth opens against yours, slow as your tongues meet, he doesn’t have to rush with you anymore, he gets you to himself for the whole night. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Hey.” You smile softly.

“Hey, pretty girl,” He’s smiling, palms resting at your hips, “You want me to take you upstairs?

You bite at your bottom lip and breathe out, “Yes.”

He leads you up the stairs, your hand clutched in his own, through the threshold of his bedroom. He settles himself on top of his sheets, head propped up on his pillows as he motions you to join him. You clamber onto the bed, crawling up his body on your hands and knees until you’re straddling his hips with your mouth back on his.

As you grind your hips down onto him, his hands coming to cup your ass under your dress, you can feel him growing hard for you. All you want is to strip him down and put your mouth on him, but it seems he has other ideas, and since this is all for him, you let him take the lead. He slips his hands under the waistband of your panties, warm hands on your flesh as he pulls them down as far as they’ll go in this position.

“Lie down for me, babygirl.” He whispers against your lips, you oblige, settling yourself down on your back as he pulls your underwear off fully, shucking the hem of your dress up to your hips.

He’s got one of his arms under your head, his lips at your ear as you spread your legs for him, letting his fingers slip through your folds to gather the slick that has slowly been gathering there all evening as you both watched each other, knowing what was coming.

“So wet for me, pretty girl,” He breathes into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth to nibble as he slips two of his fingers into your tight pussy, “Been thinking about me?”

He drags those fingers from your core, up to your clit where he begins to play soft circles across it, it’s so gentle that your breath catches in your throat as you arch yourself into his hand, “Couldn’t stop,” You admit, turning your face to kiss his lips, “Thought about you all day.”

He dips his fingers back into your cunt as he kisses you, you can feel him smirk against your lips when you grind down to meet his fingers, “I’ve been thinking about you all year, hot mama, couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

He brings his slick fingers back up to your swollen bundle of nerves, showering it with attention as you whimper for him, arching your back and bucking your hips, fingers gripping at his arm as he works you to the crest. You come for him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you, his fingers making sure they work you for every ounce of your orgasm.

Joel has you more times than he can count that night. He brings you over the edge over and over again until you can do nothing but sob, beg for a reprieve but beg him not to stop. You let him put you in positions you didn’t know possible, his cock thick and heavy inside you, brushing that spot within you that makes you sing and scream for him. He fills you up with his cum, protected by the pill you take each morning, and then, when the sun is rising and the beginnings of the day break through his drawn curtains, you lie on his chest, fingers drawing patterns on his skin, slick with sweat. You’re both sore, both spent, and both happy, most importantly. You know that within the hour you’ll have to start the walk back to your own home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Sarah will think her dad slept on your couch and you were in your rightful place, in bed next to Tommy, and that's how it will continue to be for another year, happy with the man you love, but safe in the knowledge that you still have this slice of heaven each year. The play will continue for another year – the doting uncle and niece, the happy family with their growing son, and you’ll be happy, because this is all you’ve ever needed.

“I love you.” Joel whispers, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he brushes the sweat slicked hair from your face, his eyes mapping every inch of you, claiming this scene as his own, committing it to memory so he has one thing he can think of, in the depths of his nights, when he feels the loneliest. To remind him that he’s not lonely at all, because even if he can only have you once a year, at least he can have you. He’s a simple man and he’s happy to take this one moment with you, until you decide you want more from him, if that’s ever the case.

“I love you too Joel.”

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

Note

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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holdmytesseract · 6 months

Note

Could you please do tom x reader where they are friends to lovers? Maybe the pretend boyfriend that turns real? Smutty and fluffy?

Hide & Seek

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: Tom asks you to accompany him to Ben's birthday party. On the way there, you get stuck in traffic. A misunderstanding reveals long harboured feelings and things come how they had to come...

Warnings: mutual pining, thirst, fluff, jelousy? a misunderstanding, smuttish/suggestive stuff

Word Count: 3,1k

a/n: You guys wanted it and I am a woman of my words, so... Here it is! 🫡

I hope you like what I wrote for you @huntress-artemiss . 🥰 And I hope that everybody else enjoys it of course, too!

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

You heard the familiar 'ding' sound of your phone; announcing the arrival of a new message. With a hairpin pinned between your teeth and one hand in your hair, you quickly scooted over to your little make-up table, on which you had left your phone. Tapping on the screen, you immediately saw the message popping up.

'I'm here, darling. Are you ready? x'

You smiled, fixated your hair and quickly unlocked your phone; texting back.

'Almost. :) Gimme five mins, Tommy. x'

Not wasting any time, you applied some decent make-up, gave yourself a once over in the full-length mirror, grabbed the things you'd need and made your way towards the main door of your small, cosy house.

You had promised Tom - your best friend since you were teenagers, to accompany him to the birthday party of Ben. He didn't want to go alone - and you couldn't say no, of course. You never could say no when it came to Tom. Never. You'd anything for him. He was one of the most important people in your life. He was your sunshine on a rainy day. Your lighthouse in the raging storms. A safe haven to which you could always return.

A lot of people told you that this friendship wasn't going to last. After all, Tom was an actor. A famous actor. And you were just... you. But you proved them all wrong. The friendship lasted; survived every sharp turn, bump and crash on the way. A deep bond was formed; stronger than everything you ever experienced - and yet you were just best friends. Sure there had been opportunities to take this friendship to another level and turn it into something more, but neither of you took the opportunity.

You couldn't deny, though, that you had developed strong feelings for the handsome Brit over the years. Romantic feelings. How could somebody not fall for a man like Tom? He was a charming, kind, funny, talented, handsome gentleman with a heart of pure gold. You didn't dare to confess your feelings, because you didn't want to lose your best friend. Better have him as a best friend in your life than not at all, right?

So, the years flew by. Boyfriends came and boyfriends went. Just like with Tom. It was a heart wrenching pain whenever you met Tom's new girlfriend - and you hated it, but what were you supposed to do? All you wanted for him was happiness; but neither of you seemed to find happiness - at least when it came down to romantic relationships...

Another 'ding' of your mobile ripped you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head softly and trying to focus again; you opened the door and stepped out - only to almost stumble back inside.

A soft, cool breeze brushed past you; swirling your beige dress around your knees. The smell of rain hit your nose and some dark clouds hung in the sky; shielded the sun from shining down on you.

That wasn't what took your breath away, though. It was Tom, who stood not far away from you. Just a few meters; legs crossed, leaning casually against his black Jaguar with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit trousers.

Speaking of trousers... He was wearing a dark blue suit. Black dress shoes shone against the wet pavement; suit trousers hugging his long legs and hips snugly - held together by a black leather belt. The matching dark blue shirt wasn't any less tight; tailored perfectly for his lean yet strong upper body and forcing the small buttons to hold on for dear life. A tie and suit jacket in the exact same colour completed his look.

You swallowed a thick lump; had a hard time to control yourself and the rapidly beating heart within your chest. Luckily, Tom wasn't looking your way and didn't notice your distress. His gaze was directed to the street as he watched the cars drive by. The position showed off his ridiculously beautiful face; sharp jawline, high cheekbones - peppered with soft and fuzzy looking facial hair of his three-day beard. Tom's wild, blonde-brown curls had gotten so long; a hairsbreadth away from touching his broad shoulders. He looked like a prince, straight out of a fairytale book; combined with the perfect image of a photo shoot.

You bit your lip painfully hard; trying desperately to suppress the moan which threatened to slip past your lips.

It was insanely hot - and Tom didn't even notice the impact this had on you.

"Hey, Tommy," you finally greeted him; attracting his attention. Sure, you could've stared longer and admire the fine man he was, but you didn't want him to accidentally look and notice...

His head whipped around towards you; baby blues meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hello, darling." A smile spread across his face, as he made his way over to you; giving you a hug. The hugs he gave his other friends didn't last quite as long as the hugs he gave you... You just didn't notice.

"Are you ready?" You nodded; smiling. "I was born ready. You should know that by now." You loved to tease him from time to time. Tom just chuckled; shaking his head. "I won't start now to recount the times you weren't ready. Let's go." You just giggled and followed your best friend to the car.

Being the gentleman the Brit was, he held the door open for you to sit inside his Jaguar. Once you were both seated, Tom started the engine and drove off towards the party.

Unfortunately, was the traffic on this fine Friday evening very bad; causing the both of you to get stuck. Like... Really stuck. Everything stood still. The little highway you were driving on was closed.

"Ugh, great... Now we'll be surely late to the party..." Tom gave you an apologetic look. "Apologies, Y/N/N... I should've taken the other route when I had the chance. Now it's too late... Can you text Ben?" He asked you, handing you his phone; gaze fixated on the cars in front of him. You shook your head, "No need to apologise, Tommy. You couldn't know. But yeah, I'm gonna text him." and unlocked Tom's phone as if it was your own. Not that you knew each other's password by heart... "Thank you, darling."

You tapped on WhatsApp, searched Ben's contact and entered the chat. Of course you tried hard to not read the last messages he received and sent to give your best friend some privacy, but when your eyes caught a glimpse of a text just above the text box you were writing your text in, you couldn't help but to look. You knew it was wrong, but before you were able to stop yourself, it was already too late and your gaze wandered...

Ben: So... You're gonna take her finally home then, right??

Tom: What, I- Ben stop that. I... I can't just do that. I don't think she'd want that... Me...

Ben: Friend... Are you kidding me? It's obvious she wants you.

Tom: You, uh, think so?

Ben: Know so. Shoot your shot, man, before it's too late...

You didn't have to read more. Swallowing hard, you stared at the messages for a moment. You knew exactly who Tom and Ben were obviously talking about... Chloe. A woman Tom had met on set a few months back. She was - well, is one of the costume designers and therefore saw Tom quite often. Someday, they started to talk during a break and well... According to Tom the sparks had been flying. He had told his best friend everything, of course - while you wished he hadn't. You tried to be happy for him - like you always did when he met a new woman, but... As much as you tried, your head never could win the battle against your heart. It was an undefeatable opponent. A invulnerable fortress.

You never met Chloe - and yet you despised her wholeheartedly. It wasn't fair, of course, but love had turned you into a monster.

"Y/N? Hey, Y/N/N."

You flinched and snapped out of your thoughts as Tom's soft velvet voice urged to your ears. "Is everything alright?" You blinked, nodded, "Yeah, sure. Sorry, I, uh, just drifted off." and sent the text. Giving him a fake smile, you exited the app and handed him his phone back. "Are you sure?" "Yep. Everything's good, Tommy."

You hated to lie to him, but you couldn't just tell him the truth now, could you?

'Hey, Tommy, I'm sorry but I spied on your texts and saw that one message, saying that you are going to obviously shag that bitch Chloe and now I'm kinda jealous, because it should be me instead!'

Nope, certainly not. But you also couldn't shake that thought of. It occupied you. A lot. Your brain thought about it non-stop; causing your heart to crack and shatter even more with every passing minute. You could not stand the thought of another woman in Tom's life. In his home. His bed. His heart.

You tried your best to put on a brave face, but your best friend wasn't blind. Neither stupid. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself...

At first the Brit didn't say anything. Given the fact that you clearly told and signalled him that you didn't wish to talk. But at some point, an undeniable, unpleasant tension started to built up between you both. Almost like an imaginary wall... It felt like every untold word, every unspoken feeling had pent up over the last weeks, months - years and were now about to culminate in the middle of an upcoming rain storm. Right here, right now; while being stuck in traffic.

Tom just couldn't take it any longer. He needed to know what had turned everything upside down all of a sudden. Why everything felt so wrong at this very moment.

"Y/N?" He asked you carefully once again. "I know you said everything is okay - and I feel that you clearly don't wish to speak to me, but-" "No, really, Tom. It's all good," you interrupted him once more; giving him another fake smile - and you could tell at the look of his face, that he had seen immediately through that fake smile. But before he was able to say something, you intervened; only digging the gaping hole in your heart deeper.

"Did you go on a date with Chloe?"

Tom frowned; was clearly confused of the sudden change of topic. "Y-Yes, but-" "Great. How did it go?" "Um, great, I-I guess, but why are you-" "Good. That's good. I'm happy for you Tom." You swallowed hard; feeling your heart scream in pain - but no matter how hard it hurt you, you just had to know what happened between them. You wanted to spare yourself the double gut punch. Might as well feel all the pain at once.

"But, Y/N... Why-" You chose not to leave him any space to question you and just get over with it. "Did you kiss her?" "W-What?" "Touch her?" "T-Touch her? Why would I-" "Sleep with her?" "I-" "Was she at least good in bed?" You kept on bombarding your best friend with questions. "Y/N-" "Was she, huh?" "Y/N, I-" "Did she made you cu-"

"Y/N!"

Tom suddenly exploded; screamed out your name and slamming his hands on the steering wheel of the Jag. He clearly had heard enough; couldn't listen to this any longer.

You went silent; didn't even dare to breathe for a second.

"I didn't sleep with her! I didn't touch her! Goddammit, I didn't even kiss her! Nothing happened between us! Nothing!" The Brit took a deep breath; trying to calm himself down again. You just stared at him; mouth closed shut.

"Yes, we met. Yes, it was great. But I wouldn't even call it a date. We talked and drank a glass of wine. Nothing more." You swallowed hard. "B-But, I-I thought you and Chloe were-" "A thing? No. We're not, Y/N." You blinked; were quite stunned at the sudden turnout of this situation - and once more was your mouth quicker to speak than your brain was able to think and so it came how it had to come...

"About who did you and Ben talk about then in your chat, if not Chloe?"

It slipped past your lips - and you immediately regretted it; afraid of Tom's reaction.

Tom's eyes widened to the size of plates; hands twitching to grip the steering wheel tight, while his cheeks turned beet red. The Brit had not thought about this conversation he had with his his friend - and now you knew.

"Shit, Tom, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to spy on your chats, I-I just saw it a-and was wondering about who-"

"You."

You blinked once more. "W-What?"

Tom turned to face you again; oceanic blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones.

Now or never, Tom thought.

"You, Y/N. We were talking about you."

You could've sworn that your heart skipped more than just one beat at his words. "M-Me?" You squeaked out; pointing at yourself. "Me?" "Yes. You. And the party today." Your eyes widened; jaw slacking in disbelief. "Y-You wanted to... Me?" Tom nodded; smiling nervously. "I always just wanted you, darling. No other woman on this earth is able to compare to you. My heart fell for you a long time ago. It belongs to you. Always has. Always will. I was just too afraid to tell-" Before he was able to finish his sentence, you had pulled him closer by the lapels of his stupidly sexy suit jacket and literally slammed your lips on his.

Tom was definitely shocked and overwhelmed at first, but he immediately relaxed; sighed in the kiss and pulled you as close as somehow possible with the car interior being quite a bit in the way.

All suppressed feelings and emotions finally broke free and melted into that very kiss. It felt like getting hit by an 18-wheeler truck and floating through heaven at the same time. It was a beautiful, chaotic mess, which the both of you enjoyed every second of - and tempted you to indulge into kiss after kiss after kiss.

You felt how your heartbeat quickened at the feeling of love and desire for the man beside you, as they were finally able to flood your body; veins pulsating with a dangerous mixture of endorphins and oxytocin - and Tom's musky smell, combined with the fruity blood orange and leather touch of his perfume didn't help at all. It made everything worse, without a doubt. Resisting Tom had been always difficult - but now that the chains were broken, it was impossible. And why should you stop yourself? There was no holding back anymore. The cards laid on the table.

You pushed Tom back into the driver seat; catching him by surprise. Your hand started to play with his tie; quickly undoing it. Tom's eyes watched your fingers tracing the buttons of his shirt; steadily wandering lower as he was swallowing hard. "Darling, w-what... what are you- Woah!" Tom had clearly anticipated that your hand would land at a place where he had often imagined it to be late at night, when he was all alone at home. But it didn't. You gave his belt a soft tug, but then moved your hand over his thigh and down to where the lever was, which allowed his seat to slide back; bringing even more space between him and the steering wheel.

Another thing the Brit hadn't seen coming - just like the next move you made.

Within the blink of an eye, you had slipped out of your high heels and elegantly swung yourself over; sitting on your former best friend's lap. It caused your dress to ride up your thighs - and Tom's eyes to widen. He literally froze in place; realising in which position you just brought yourself and him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, tugging at his suit jacket; trying to get him to shrug it off - what he did. "Y/N, w-what are you doing?" Tom knew of course very well what you were doing, but he needed to hear it. "What does it look like? I'm, uh, saving the car and riding you instead."

Tom's eyes almost popped out of his head at your bold words. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that it stirred something deep inside him. And his dress pants.

"Darling, I-I don't know if we should do this here, I-" You raised a playful eyebrow at him.

"Oh, Tommy please... Don't be so shy now. You can't tell me that you never imagined doing this..." You leaned in closer; whispering into his ear: "Me. On top of you." The Brit couldn't help the moan which slipped past his lips. "I-I did, I-," he panted out; feeling one of your hands opening his belt; metal clinking. "See? Besides, the windows are tinted. Nobody's going to see this. Plus, we are stuck anyway, so... What are you waiting for?" You asked in a hushed voice; tracing your lips down his pulse point. "Touch me."

Another breathy moan escaped Tom's lips; big hands flying up to grab your bare thighs and working on slipping your dress even higher up your hips. His warm, slightly sweaty palms sent a shiver down your spine; nerve ends sizzling with desire.

"I-I've wanted this for so long, now, darling." Tom whispered; pressing his forehead against yours. "And now that I can finally have it - you... It's so surreal and- Oh fuck..." Tom's hands started to tremble; eyebrows slanting and mouth forming into a perfect 'o' as you lowered yourself on him. Only your lips messily entangling themselves with his seemed to bring him out of his haze.

"I love you, Tommy. I love you. I always have," you whimpered; body jolting with love and pleasure. His soft beard scratched the skin of your cheek, as he buried his head in the crook of your neck; lips marking you as his.

"I love you, too, darling. With all my heart. I'm yours." He lifted his head once more; glassy blue eyes gazing deeply into your soul. "Now let me love you. Let me make love to you." You smiled deliriously and raked your fingers through his long, blonde-brown curls. "I beg you to, Tommy."

And when he started to move, the world around you faded. All you could think and feel was Tom.

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader smut #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

Text

Reunited (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of car accident, mentions of loss of a child, grief, separation (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Words count: 2.4k

A/N: I feel so bad and so stupid for not putting warnings for the previous chapter. Please forgive me😭 I don't want to leave you hanging with sadness so I'm posting this now to end the depressing chapters asap. I don't know if you will like this one or not but I tried my best! Still feeling guilty about the previous chapter. I'll try my best to post fluffs for the next chapters! This is part 16 of Where It All Starts.

And also thank you for all the opinions you sent me! ❤️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Baby, you need to eat.” Joel sat beside you on the bed with a tray of your favorite food.

“I’m not hungry.” Your eyes were red and you couldn’t shed tears anymore.

You cried for days. You mourned for days. Joel mourned too but he didn’t want you to see him look weak. He wanted to look strong so you could be strong.

“It’s my fault. Not yours. Blame me. Don’t blame yourself.” Joel wanted to take the blame.

He needed you to blame him so he could feel better. So you could feel better. He didn’t want you to feel guilty about what happened.

“I know you probably won’t forgive me. I totally understand. But you should know that I’m more than sorry. I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.” Joel was on his knees apologizing to you.

You just stayed quiet.

“I’m dying too, baby. It should have been me. Not him.” Joel sobbed on his knees.

You started crying seeing him vulnerable in front of you.

“Leave me alone, Joel. Please.” You asked him to go away.

“Baby..” Joel begged.

“Please.” You cried.

Joel didn’t want to argue so he decided to go out of the room and give you some space alone. You stood up right away and went to pack your suitcase. You put in some of your clothes and important stuff. You couldn’t stay in your house with Joel anymore. You needed some time alone to heal and he probably needed one too. You couldn’t comfort him and he couldn’t comfort you. So you decided to move out and stayed at your parents’ for a while to breathe and heal. But of course, you didn’t talk this through with Joel. You just suddenly went out of the bedroom ready to go out with a suitcase in your hand.

“Where are you going?” Joel rose from the couch. He had been sleeping on the couch since the accident happened.

“Don’t follow me.” You walked to the door, not even looking at him.

“Please, at least tell me where you’re going. I can’t leave you alone outside this late at night.” Joel begged.

“I need some time alone.” You didn’t tell him where you were going.

“Okay, take all the time you need. But please, tell me where are you going?” He repeated the question again.

“You don’t need to know.” You insisted.

“Baby, please. If you don’t want to be with me, then I’ll leave. You stay here.” He offered for him to go rather than leaving you alone wandering at night.

“No. I don’t want to be here. Just please let me go, Joel!” You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You sobbed as you forced open the door and ran to your car. You rushed inside your car and drove right away. Joel ran to follow you and shouted your name. You cried as you drove away.

Days went by, weeks went by, and months went by. You had been staying with your parents and your family had been very supportive. You were grateful to have them in your life. They took care of you and you were finally able to breathe and got mentally stable. You had never seen Joel or Sarah all those months. You didn’t even call Joel. The last time you knew Sarah was in Tommy’s house and Flo was taking care of her. Flo kept you updated on how she was doing and you sometimes talked with Sarah on the phone. That was enough for you. You didn’t want Sarah to see her mother looking awful so you tried sounding like you were okay on the phone. You told her that you and Joel were on a business trip and the two of you will not be back anytime soon. So you told her to be patient. You always cried each time after you called Sarah. She always asked about you and Joel and how she missed you. Most of the time Sarah cried on the phone and your heart broke. Tommy sometimes slipped in some news about Joel. He sounded bad. But you knew you and Joel needed space.

Every night when you closed your eyes, it all happened again. Joel yelling at you, you were crying, the car moving so fast, the sudden stop of the car, and then bam.

You loved Joel. You couldn’t live without him. And he loved you too. He couldn’t live without you too. Both of you were soulmates. You wanted to forgive him so you were trying your best to find reasons to forgive him. You listed all of his kindness and everything you wrote was his good deeds. The only thing that hurt you was that accident. Why should you hate someone for only one wrong thing when he did more good to you?

“Honey?” Your mom knocked on your door.

“Come in.” You closed your notebook.

“Tommy’s here.” Your mom slowly walked inside your bedroom.

“Tommy?” You tilted your head.

“Yes, he brought Sarah.” Your mom awkwardly added more information to you.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

You weren’t ready to meet Sarah yet. Tommy was crossing the line.

“I can’t see her. I’m not ready.” You shook your head.

“She’s playing with your dad. But I think Tommy has something important to tell you.” Your mom put her hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear anything, mom.” You insisted.

“Honey, please. Just hear him out.” Your mom suddenly called Tommy inside.

“Tommy, come inside.”

“Hey..” Tommy put his hand in his pockets as he walked slowly inside your bedroom.

“Sit here.” Your mom patted the empty space on your bed.

“How are you doing?” Tomy started a conversation.

“I’ve been better.” You replied coldly.

“Okay, I’m just gonna go straight to the point now.” Tommy sighed.

“We’ve checked the CCTV.”

“What about it?” You raised your head as you heard Tommy say that.

“It’s the other guy’s fault. He hit your car. Joel drove on green light. Not red.” Tommy explained.

You cried as you heard that. You remembered it but you lied to yourself because you needed someone to blame. Now, you felt guilty for blaming Joel when you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You need to see Joel, (y/n). He’s not doing well without you. He’s been caging himself inside the house. Sarah’s been crying asking for her mom and dad, that's why I brought her here. I hope you’re not mad at me.” He put his hand behind his neck.

You couldn’t speak. You cried. Hyperventilating. Your mom moved closer and rubbed your back. Her tears fell down her cheeks seeing her daughter like this. Tommy left the bedroom to give you and your mom some space.

“I remember it, mom. I know it wasn’t his fault. I was just looking for someone to blame.” You sobbed at your mom’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, honey.” Your mom patted your back.

“How can I see him, mom?”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Both of you were hurting and I’m sure you will forgive each other.” Your mom comforted you.

After you cried your heart out, you and your mom went to the living room to see Sarah.

“Mommy!” Sarah ran to hug your legs.

“Hi, sweetie. I missed you.” You crouched and hugged her.

“I missed you so so much! Where’s daddy?” She asked with innocence.

“He’s busy. You’ll meet him soon.” You stroked her head and smiled.

“Can I sleep with grandpa tonight, please, please, please?” Sarah begged.

Her grandpa spoiled her too much because he loved having girls.

“Of course.” You chuckled.

“Yay!” She ran to her grandpa’s arms.

“Okay, I think I’ll leave now.” Tommy waved his hand and walked his way out.

“Tommy, wait!” You followed him.

“Yeah?” He turned his head to you.

“Can you drop me to Joel’s?” You asked him to drive you.

“You sure?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.” You nodded.

Tommy drove you back to your house. He offered to wait for you until Joel opened the door but you insisted for him to leave. So he left.

*knock on the door*

You knocked a few times and Joel hadn’t come out yet. You knocked again and again. Joel groaned as he got up from the couch. He had been drinking alcohol since you left him and slept on the couch. He didn’t want to sleep on the bed because it would remind him of you. After a few more knocks, he finally opened the door.

"Hey.." You tried to smile at him.

Joel looked awful. His hair was messy, beard was also messy. He had always had messy hair and beard but this time was messier. He got dark circles and he seemed like he had lost a lot of weight just like you.

"How-Everything all right?" The first thing that was on his mind was your condition.

"I-I'm okay. You okay?" You knew you weren't fully okay and he was absolutely not okay but you needed to ask.

"I-uh-" He couldn't say anything.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course." He opened the door wider for you to come in.

Joel rushed to hide every trash on the tables and floors. He didn't expect you to come so he didn't have the time to tidy. It was like he was expecting a guest when you were actually his wife. In fact you lived there for a few years just until a few months ago.

"Have you been drinking?" You scrunched your nose at the alcohol smell around the house.

Joel cleared his throat. He was embarrassed that you saw him in this condition.

"You lost a lot of weight." You looked at him up and down.

“Did you even eat?” You asked him.

Then you walked to the fridge and checked inside. Nothing. Just alcohol.

"Joel.." Tears welled up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry." The two of you said it at the same time.

"No, baby. I'm sorry." Joel said.

"No, Joel. I'm sorry." You cried as you closed the fridge.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You breathed out.

“No, it’s my fault.” Joel kept blaming himself.

“No, Tommy told me. He saw the CCTV. You drove on green light. Not red. And I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence.

Joel looked at you and tears fell down his cheeks. He was relieved to hear the news. He remembered he pressed the gas pedal on green light but he thought he was hallucinating.

“I’m sorry I blamed you. I was just-I needed someone to blame.” You sobbed.

“It’s okay. I needed someone to blame too.” Joel walked closer to you to hug you.

“I will never forget this pain, Joel. It will always be here. But I know we have to move on. But I can’t do it without you.” You put your hand on your hurting chest.

“I know. Me too. Our baby will always be in our hearts. And I can’t do it without you either.” He nodded as tears fell down his cheeks.

You buried your face right away to his chest and he hugged you so tight. He placed his hand on your back and another on the back of your head caressing your hair. His chin resting on top of your head while your arms hugged him tight, pressing your body to his. You and Joel missed each other so much. The two of you had been away from each other for too long.

“I missed you, Joel.” You mumbled in his chest.

“I missed you, too. I can't live without you, baby.” Joel kissed your head.

“I love you.” You pulled your head away from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“I love you more.” His tears fell down then he kissed you.

“I’m sorry I left.” You rested your forehead to his as you apologized.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is now you’re here.” He gave you another peck then hugged you again.

“I’m never letting you go from now on.” He hugged you tight.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You swayed him a little bit.

*stomach growling*

“Not me.” You chuckled.

You raised your head to look at him, hands still around his waist.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” You chuckled as you looked at his embarrassed face.

“Yeah.” Joel chuckled.

It was late at night and most of the stores were closed so you and Joel drove to the nearest McDonalds and ordered a drive-thru. You and Joel bought burgers, fries, chicken nuggets and of course ice cream. Joel looked like he had starved for years so you made sure he ate a lot. Then you asked Joel to drive you to the hill, his favorite place in the city.

“It feels good to be back here.” You took off your seatbelt and passed him his burger.

“Good memories are made here.” Joel took a bite.

“Hmm.” He sighed and closed his eyes as he chewed on the burger.

“It tastes so good.” Joel chuckled and bit another big one.

“Slow down, mister. I know you have been starving yourself for months but you need to slow down or you’ll choke.” You chuckled.

“Just realized I’m starving now.” He chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He extended his right hand to cup your cheeks.

“Me too.” You smiled and caressed his hand.

“Eww Joel! Your hand is greasy!” You grabbed a tissue and wiped your cheek.

Joel’s hand was greasy from the burgers and fries and he just held your cheeks with it. Joel chuckled.

“Oh! Payback time!” You took some french fries and wiped them on his face.

“That’s fair.” Joel scrunched his nose and closed his eyes while he giggled.

You giggled then you took a tissue to clean his face and beard.

“I love you.” You leaned in closer to his lips as you wiped his face.

“I love you too.” Joel kissed you with his greasy lips.

You smiled and kissed him back ignoring the greasy lips. The two of you finally reunited and be each other’s shoulder to cry on. Your bond with him grew stronger because you were each other's purpose in life.

To be continued…

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