#and someone tell me where is tommy's arm going | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zablife · 7 months

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🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ screeching in here now that my coffee has kicked in and I can type sentences again. Very excited that your requests are open again!

Please could I have something based around ‘Are you jealous?’ with Tommy?

Sorry I know you’ll get a million Tommy requests but I’m just a girl 🙈 I am not immune. Ideally the filthier the better 🤭 but just wherever the muse takes you babe! xxx

Thanks for the request, Alex! I've combined your ask for smut with another lovely anon's request for a Cillian character w/ breeding kink. I hope this is ok! (Slight warning for hints of dark, possessive Tommy, but not to worry bc it turns to fluff at the end.)

All Mine 🔞

Tommy x gf reader

Tommy's nails dug into your forearm as he dragged you away from the party you were hosting. "Where are we going?" you whispered, stumbling slightly to keep pace with his strides. Taking one last glance over your shoulder, you flashed an apologetic smile to your guests, realizing they were as confused as you were.

Once out of earshot, Tommy's composure shattered, rage melting his icy blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you'd fucked my new business partner?" he seethed.

You shook free of his hold with an indignant look. "Jesus, Tommy! That was five years ago!" You rolled your eyes as he began pacing the long corridor. In his haste to leave the table, he'd forgotten his cigarette case and without the distraction, his agitation grew.

Throwing your hands up, you exclaimed, "Yes, I have a past! But I didn't think someone like you would hold that against me."

He stalked toward you, narrowing his eyes as he came close enough for you to smell the whisky on his breath. "But I do, especially when you spend half the fucking night whispering in his ear!"

You gathered your long skirt over your arm in preparation to leave, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Every conversation you'd had that evening was in promotion of Shelby Company Limited. Frankly, you were fed up with all the business talk and ready to scream at him for his ungrateful attitude. However something stirred inside when you glimpsed the tortured look in his eye. Your shoulders relaxed, backing down from the fight when you realized he was nothing more than a hurt little boy lashing out.

"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, an irrepressible giggle bubbling up from your chest at the idea of him pouting like a child.

"You're the one making a fool of yourself," he grumbled, not in the mood for teasing.

Caressing his face with your hand, you attempted to bring back the confident man you knew. In these moments he needed you to quiet his inner voice of inadequacy. "Where do you get these ridiculous notions and when will you give them up?" you scolded with a peck to his lips. You only intended a brief moment of affection before returning to your guests, but Tommy had other ideas.

Leaning down to hook a strong arm beneath your knees, he lifted you off the ground. Yelping in surprise, you threw your arms around his neck to brace yourself. You couldn't be sure, but you thought you detected a hint of a smirk tug at Tommy's lips as he carried you toward the staircase and away from the noise of the first floor.

Alone in the quiet of the bedroom, Tommy's intentions were clear. Hands roving your body, he hitched up your skirt, squeezing the flesh of your ass appreciatively. His body pressed into yours insistently, slamming your back against the vanity mirror with enough force to break it.

"Tommy, slow down," you begged, unable to keep up with his feverish kisses. However, his ministrations did not stop, his large hand encircling your throat possessively as the other dipped between your legs. He unexpectedly forced your underwear aside to push two fingers into your sopping heat.

"Is this for him or me?" he demanded in a low voice, pumping his digits into you the way he knew drove you wild. You could scarcely think as he worked you into a frenzy matching his own, but you knew he expected an answer.

"You...always you, Tom," you huffed out in uneven breaths, gripping his shoulder for support when he began biting and sucking near your collarbone. With that declaration Tommy abruptly stopped, staring into your eyes to determine the truth. Finding them glossy with unshed tears and feeling the flutter of your desire around his fingers, he was satisfied you were being honest with him. He rewarded you by hooking his fingers against the achingly delicious spot within you that set stars dancing behind your eyelids.

"So perfect," he praised, pressing his forehead to yours. "And loyal?"

"Yes," you whimpered as his thumb grazed your clit, sending sparks shooting through you.

"Then there's one more thing you need to do to prove it," he pronounced, withdrawing his hand and denying your pleasure so as to have your undivided attention. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, tears nearly spilling onto your flushed cheeks in protest.

The hand at your throat stroked your delicate skin gently as he fed you his soaked fingers. You sucked wantonly on your own juices while he nuzzled his nose against yours and whispered to you softly. "If you give me a child, there won't be any more doubts."

Your eyes went wide at his request, but he scarcely noticed, rubbing himself against your thigh to show how eager he was to begin. "Take off your dress," he commanded in a low voice.

"Now? We have guests," you reminded him, but he wouldn't hear any arguments.

A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he answered, "I don't give a fuck. Take it off now or I'll do it for you."

Apparently you didn't make your decision quickly enough because you heard the snag of fabric before catching the rapid motion of his hands out of the corner of your eye. Within moments the slit at your thigh was torn to your waist, exposing your lower half and sending shivers through your entire body.

With a harsh gulp, you removed the damaged garments as Tommy watched with lust filled eyes, stroking himself before you shamelessly. "That's better," he hummed in satisfaction, palming the globe of your breast. You nodded, biting your lip. You'd learned long ago you were powerless against Tommy's will, his desires becoming your own.

"Have to show that bastard who you belong to," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed you onto the mattress. You could only nod in agreement as he entered you swiftly, setting a brutal pace from the start. It was unlike anything you'd experienced before with Tommy rutting into you with reckless abandon. His hips slammed into yours with punishing force, fingers at your hips wrapped tightly enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.

Your cries soon echoed through the room and he did nothing to quiet you. In fact he spurred you on, demanding to hear how much you wanted his seed. You had no trouble complying, cries falling from your lips with each deep stroke. "Please, Tommy," you pleaded in a high pitched whine you barely recognized as your own, needing his comforting warmth within you instead of spurting across your chest or stomach.

The sight of you with half lidded eyes, begging for his cum was all Tommy needed to tumble over the edge. Quickly losing rhythm, he clutched your waist mumbling, "Going to fill you up." Suddenly his hips stuttered to a halt as he seated himself deep within you. You moaned at the intoxicating feeling of rope after rope of hot cum coating your insides, his release triggering your own. While you rubbed your clit to prolong the waves of pleasure, you heard Tommy moan at the way your cunt continued to milk him. "Such a good girl, taking every last drop," he praised.

He took a moment to admire you, watching your ample chest heaving and plump lips parted in ecstasy. He'd never felt so satisfied, but he soon collapsed upon you in contented exhaustion.

The enormity of what you'd just done came rushing toward you, but you were calmed by the weight of his body holding you down. Running your fingertips through the soft, shorn sides of his hair you mused, "Tommy, what is it you really want?" You could still feel the way his heart beat against his ribcage, transferring vibration through your body. It felt as though you could share anything with each other in this moment, while you were still joined as one.

He raised his face from the crook of your neck to place a tender kiss to your lips. "You," he stated simply. Running a hand down your body to rest over your stomach, he added, "Can you blame me? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. Of course I want you to have my children."

You beamed at him, heart swelling with pride at his admission. He wasn't normally so effusive. Leaning in to kiss him, he withdrew from you and you let out a whimper at the aching emptiness. As sticky white rivulets of his spend ran down your inner thighs, Tommy scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you.

You sighed contentedly as he placed a kiss to your temple, aftershocks from your orgasm causing you to clench onto his fingers, drawing his cum further inside you. "Good girl, keep it in," he instructed, peppering your face with kisses as you grew sleepy.

However, one thought lingered in the back of your mind. "How could you have thought I wanted anyone else? You know I'm all yours," you declared, hoping to dispel any lingering worry he might have. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Tommy's cock stir against your thigh.

Removing his fingers from you, he replaced them with his cock and began slow, gentle thrusts against your opening until he was hard enough to bury himself into you once more. He groaned at the sight of your tightness split around him, looking as though you were made just for him. Leaning down to cradle your neck and shoulders under his arms, he held you close. Hot breath fanning over your ear, he murmured, "When I see your beautiful body swollen with my child, then I'll know you're all mine."

A needy cry escaped your throat as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, your nails clawing at his back to urge him back inside. "S'alright," he hushed, "I'm going to keep you full," he promised with a snap of his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, heels eagerly pressing into his back to accept everything he could give.

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Tag List:

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#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby #Cillian Murphy

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simplyholl · 18 days

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The Interview

Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.

Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.

"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.

The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.

They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.

The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.

You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.

"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.

Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.

Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.

You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.

Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.

Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.

You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.

Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.

"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.

He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.

"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.

Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.

You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.

Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.

"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.

Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.

Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.

"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.

Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu @justsebstan @kcd15

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munsooooon · 14 days

Text

Steve hates very much to be called "Steven" not even as a joke, he has not talked about it with anyone but implicitly everyone senses it in some way or another and therefore they do not call him that way, it is always Steve or Harrington or some nickname. That's because when his parents called him that it was because they were incredibly angry or drunk and therefore punished him in horrible ways, when they called him Steven he usually ended up getting beaten up. When they called him Steven in public it was enough to make him freeze and make him shiver, eventually he would be silent and terrified for the rest of the evening.

Now being older if someone calls him Steven, he immediately assumes they are fighting with him or that he did something wrong and depending on the situation or the person he will react with sadness or anger, for example, when Tommy called him Steven, it ended in a awful fist fight. It really makes him feel very bad, in recent years sadness is what he felt the most when he hears his name, because it hurts him too much to disappoint the people he loves.

Eddie doesn't know it, but he doesn't call him Steven either, it's always a nickname or Stevie, or Steve or even Harrington. Until one night, when they were in Steve's room kissing fiercely and passionately, Steve was under him doing whatever it took to feel Eddie rubbing his skin, between gasps and accelerated breaths, every little movement Eddie made or every little touch Steve felt, he reacted effusively with his whole body shuddering, he was and felt hypersensitive, he couldn't keep still.

"Steven" Eddie whispered with softness and a beautiful smile, Steve looked at him surprised. "Stay still, I need to take your clothes off, love"

Steve loved that. It was the first time someone pronounced his name with such love. He stood for a few seconds, processing what was happening. He began to shake in anticipation of what Eddie might give him. His brain was short-circuited, and all he could think of was Eddie calling him "Steven" with that authority and that beautiful softness that only he had. He felt loved.

"Are you okay? Do you want us to stop?"

Steve took a few seconds to appreciate him, ran his face gently, because the words wouldn't come out even though they were in his throat. He was always silent when he shouldn't be but he couldn't help it.

Eddie kissed the hand that was on his face, not intending to go any further, and Steve melted once again, he wanted to speak and express loudly the pleasure the other boy was making him feel but he couldn't. Instead, he took Eddie's hand and directed it to his pants to make him feel what he had provoked, to make him understand that he didn't want to stop.

"No, I don't want to stop" Steve said as he sat on Eddie's lap. "Call me Steven again, just you, just you Eddie, call me love, baby, tell me I'm your princess and never stop"

Steve was incredibly loud that night, moving his hips against Eddie's lap, trying to fuck himself harder, deeper. He spoke his name softly and lovingly, until he began to cry, begged for more as tears flooded his face. Eddie held him tight with his arms to keep him right where he wanted him but also to keep him safe to hold him as he released a weight he seemed to be carrying for years.

Eddie couldn't utter a word, it was unbelievable. Eddie was always loud and Steve was quieter, but in the dark, in the security of their love, Steve could be whatever he wanted and could act however he wanted, so he was being loud as he wished because in Eddie's arms no one could punish him.

"You're such a good boy, don't you?" Eddie says softly.

"Yeah?" Steve asks as he chases Eddie, he moans loudly as Eddie once again hits that place on his body, his mouth stays open as he moves on Eddie, soft sounds keep coming out of his mouth, he closes his eyes, because he can feel Eddie all over his body, even though he moves slowly.

"Yeah. You're so sweet, my baby boy, I can't even explain how much I love you, princess"

Steve smiles with his eyes closed. He looked precious, his cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and somehow the tears made him incredibly beautiful.

....

Steve still hates being called that, he finally confessed it to Eddie but also gave him permission to call him that on special occasions. Plus, he told him that he would love to tell his parents what he does with the traumas they caused him. Because now every time he's called Steven it's because he's loved, because he's revered and because he's being fucked incredibly well.

Steve get his name back, Steven belonged to him and Eddie.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie headcanon #stranger things #steddie ficlet #guys i blame my depression and the deftones for this

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

Text

II ║ Threads

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.

Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!

Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!

A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot.

If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉

Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.

It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.

A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’

Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’

‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.

‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street.

Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’

Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’

At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.

Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.

He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’

The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’

‘Joel -’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’

Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.

For fuck’s sake.

He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’

‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’

Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’

He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’

Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.

Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’

When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’

He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’

‘Oh, shit!’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’

There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’

On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’

He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’

There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’

One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’

‘Promise.’

At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’

‘Come on back.’

When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.

His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -

‘Joel?’

Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.

Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.

Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.

As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.

The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’

To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.

Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.

Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?

Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’

He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’

‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’

Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’

‘Under the table, on my right.’

You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all.

He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’

It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.

Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.

You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart.

Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.

Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.

If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?

One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.

But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.

You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.

The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.

‘Um - you okay?’

Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’

So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’

Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.

‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’

Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.

You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’

‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’

You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.

There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.

‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’

Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’

He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’

You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’

And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.

They’re too tight. Again.

There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.

He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest.

He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -

And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.

He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -

‘Joel?’

Fuck.

He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’

Get it together, you dirty bastard.

He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.

‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’

‘Can you untangle it?’

‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’

You swear you’re going to black out.

‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.

‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’

‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’

‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’

‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?

Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding.

‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’

Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.

His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.

You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is -

‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’

Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.

You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.

At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.

Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’

The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.

He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -

Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you.

Oh god.

He’s hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’

Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again.

But you can’t.

So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.

His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’

His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’

You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’

He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.

He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers.

The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.

It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -

And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance.

But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’

It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’

It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.

Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.

He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.

When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him?

He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.

Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’

You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.

You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'

He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’

You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’

Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’

‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.

Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’

You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’

For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’

Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’

You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’

Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’

The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence.

In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time.

‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.

Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’

‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain.

She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’

His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’

Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’

You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’

She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’

Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’

He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’

Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’

Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.

Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’

You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.

Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!

I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader

3K notes · View notes

kadwrites · 10 months

Text

deja vu | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary; how well do we really know the people we love?

warnings ; dark!tommy, minor character death, description of violence , mentions of murder, arranged marriage!trope , slow burn, fem!reader

a/n ; please let me know what you think!

you tilted your head and frowned , you're both standing at the garrison.

"tommy..." you mumbled in protest

"i know" he nodded "it'll be very short."

you clicked your tongue and then huffed "if you take longer than ..... 30 minutes i'm leaving."

"ya won't."

"get out of my sight." you muttered , taking a sip of your drink.

you sighed, looking over at the place. it was fairly busy, but not stuffy. sounds of chatter and men laughing echoing around, the lighting is dim. you made your way to the booth you were in, sitting down , eyeing your drink.

"when i heard tommy was marrying again, i would've never thought it's celest's little sister that he's trapped."

you recognized the voice before even processing the words, you look up, your brows raised and smiling in disbelief "lizzie?"

she's standing there, looking over at you. her blue eyes studying every inch of your face, a face she hadn't seen in a long time. and you hadn't expected to see her here , of all places.

"what are ya doing?" she speaks softly. you know the tone, you get the meaning; what are you doing with someone like him ?

you stand up, your gaze never leaves her , still smiling. "lizzie... i've not seen ya in so long..."

since she got involved with tommy , that is. lizzie and celest knew each-other , went to school together. lizzie would sometimes stay over , whenever your mother felt she wouldn't be safe otherwise. until the war.

she chuckles, "ya 'ave your mother to thank for that."

you chuckled too, still looking at her. "how did ya know about it?"

she gives you a look, her dark brow raised "everyone knows. i just didn't know it would be someone like *you*"

you lick your lips, "lizzie i know ya two share.... a history"

she scoffs , a bitter smile on her lips "i don't resent ya for this, i wouldn't." she shakes her head "i 'ave given up on 'im... a long time ago." her eyes look away for a moment before landing on you "whatever ya think of 'im, whatever ya believe he is , he's not." she speaks with conviction.

you don't reply to that, you're just trying to know what she means by it.

"thomas shelby doesn't know love like we do, what he knows is ownership." she chuckles bitterly, "learned what that meant the hard way. but ya shouldn't go through what i did." she shakes her head softly

"i don't understand...."

she stays silent for a moment "consider this a warning from a friend, this man , *will ruin you* , and when that 'appens ya will not recognize who you've become but he.... he will remain the same, unchanged not matter how hard ya try. he will always be what he always was, no love in the world can heal whatever is broken in 'im."

"ya don't understand, lizzie." you speak finally, "this isn't simple, for either of us. i can't leave"

"ya can't or ya won't?"

"i..." you pause for a moment, letting out a chuckle "i can't."

she studies your face , nodding "what does celest think? what does oliver think?"

"they're not thrilled."

"i know 'im more than most." she adds "and if i

knew what i do now when i first met 'im....." she looks away "i came here because i knew you'd be here and to tell ya that ya can come to me... if ya ever need help."

she places a hand on your arm, looking at you one more time before turning and making her way out of the garrison.

"she was always a nice girl" your mother sighed, taking a bite of her food

you and celest look at eachother before looking back at her,

celest knew why lizzie talked to you , and so did the rest of your family

"where's abraham?" you nod towards anna

she shrugged , "he had to do something before coming here"

"ya knew who i dreamt of?" your father pointed his fork at you "that teller boy, jeremy was it?. it was the strangest thing , i tell ya"

all the women at the table tried to stay neutral, keep their reactions to a minimum, you try to hide your uncomfortable reaction behind your glass of water "it is strange"

the whole table looks towards the front door, the sound of the door slamming open and not slamming back closed, and the heavy rushed footsteps

"i need to talk to ya," he appears in the living room doorway. he puts his hands on his hips, breathing heavily as if he ran to the house. he's disheveled, he pushed his glasses back on his nose with a shaky hand

"jeremy teller is dead." he speaks in a hushed voice, looking around to check that no one is listening, both of you standing in your parents bedroom. he didn't want anyone to hear , especially not renee or she might just give birth on the spot.

"what? no he's not." you laugh, looking at him. waiting for him to finish his joke

he looks at you, wiping a hand over his face. he looks at you "he's fucking dead."

your laugh falters slowly as you look at him, your face twitching with different emotions "how ? when? how do you know about it?"

"i heard. they found 'im murdered," he tries to not speaks too loudly "his throat was slit"

you can feel your blood go cold "do they know who killed 'im?"

he tilts his head, his hands still shaking as they rest on his hips. "ya know who killed 'im."

"no....no." you shake your head, laughing again in disbelief "no no no, no" you look away and step back, putting a hand over your forehead "that's impossible."

"listen to me" he grabs your shoulders, turning you to look at him "he did it, all of small heath knows he did and ya do too."

"no , he wouldn't." you shake your head again, your heart beating so fast you can hear it. "why would he do that? he wouldn't ."

he moves you gently, sitting you down on the chair in your parents room. he kneels , his hands move to your face "what do ya wanna do now ?"

the room feels so stuffy, you can hardly breath.

"i don't know." your chest feels like it might collapse. you try to stand up, but you can barely feel your legs, you try to blink away the darkness that takes over your vision.

but you knew it was coming, the darkness does take over.

here you are again, staring at that portrait that hangs opposite of your bed. you're filled with dread , fear and even anger , your eyes trace the portrait that you've already memorized.

your head on the pillow, your sister sniffling is another reminder, like a deja vu of that cursed night.

but you can see someone else in your peripheral vision sitting in the chair , those cold blue eyes cannot be missed. its as if his presence filled the room with a cold sort of air.

you try to get up,

"lay down"

"i don't want to." you mumble, letting out a breath as you lean your back against your bed frame. your eyes still on the painting, you don't even glance his way.

"feeling better?" his voice sounds colder than you ever remember it being. the smell of the cigarette smoke making you close your eyes shut, making your head spin. you reach for the glass of water on your bedside table, your hands quiver as you bring it to your lips

"yes" you put the glass back down

"ya look pale"

"hmm"

you can't shake that feeling, you're scared of looking at him and seeing the same view you did that day, the blood on his hands.

"ya killed 'im." you're almost muttering to yourself,

he doesn't answer you, and you don't ask again. you finally peel your eyes off of the old painting, glancing at him. the look on his face gave you the answer that you already knew.

he looks so calm , so collected , almost wicked. "are ya scared now?"

and it was your turn to not answer his question, but your eyes never leave his.

"did ya do it yourself?"

"yes" he looks right back at you "you're already aware of what i can do"

you just shut your eyes, your hands shake as they grip into the covers

"forgetting it is your fault, not mine." his voice sounds again

you don't even remember the rest of that day, his words were replying in your head.

you snap out of that trance a day later, you're in the living room on the chair by the window. you look straight at the window as your mind tries to make sense of everything, and then a figure down the street catches your eyes and you feel a switch go off in your head.

i have eyes around here.

and you realize , probably ears too.

your clothes swish as you run out of the living room towards your parents' room, your mother running behind you. the old wooden floor cried under your rushed footsteps

"what happened?"

you don't even hear her, you don't process what she's saying. you pull out the box from under their bed, you rummage through it , pulling out your dad's revolver.

the cold metal of the gun feels like it's burning through your flesh

"what the fuck are ya doing? where did ya get that?" oliver yells , his eyes opened wide as tries to run after you too.

the whole house freezes, all of them just still as if the slightest movement would set that gun off

you push that door open , it slams against the wall beside it. your feel take you towards the man standing in the street , a figure you've seen lurking around too many times to chalk it up to coincidences

you cock back the hammer, your hands are steady for the first time since yesterday.

"ya tell tommy fucking shelby that if he doesn't get ya fuckers away from me , i'll start shooting."

you move the revolver and point it to the pavement , missing his foot by a hair.

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

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #no use of y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #ao3 author #read on ao3

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joelmillersmunch · 2 months

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harvest moon (joel miller x reader)

Summary: Joel Miller can't keep his eyes off of you. And damn, that ass is nice.

Ratings/Warnings: Fluff, some cussing, ass staring. Mostly just Joel Miller being in love and Tommy Miller being a little shit. Age gap, but both reader and Joel are grown adults (like reader is 30s Joel is early 50s) Joel has some anxiety, but nothing too descriptive. Canon divergence. I hope that's everything!

Word count: 845

A/N: I was listening to Harvest Moon by Neil Young the other day and thought to myself, "Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller." Yeah, you get the gist. This was in my drafts from a few weeks ago and so I thought I would finish it. I hope you like it! Just something short and sweet. :) Imagine this gif but as Joel Miller and his beautiful greying hair....

“Darlin’, you know I don’t wanna do this either, but we gotta,” Joel says, a slightly annoyed gruff in his voice. It’s not like he’s annoyed with you, but he’s getting tired of pleading to get this show on the road. He hears you call back something from upstairs and he rolls his eyes, shuffling his way to the bathroom in which you’re currently occupying.

“Joel,” You start when he enters through the door. “I don’t mind going, and you know that. What I mind is you not tellin’ me till twenty minutes ago!” You say with a scowl. Your eyes lock through the mirror and he softens.

“”M sorry, sweet girl. Tommy didn’t tell me till we were leaving work today. I had about as much of a heads up as you did,” He says. You can tell he’s sorry, so with a soft huff you turn to face him.

“Well, he can’t be mad if we’re a few minutes late then. I’ll be done shortly, honey. Please stop stressing,” You say, giving him a soft kiss to his cheek. And just like that, everything was okay again. He needed you to remind him that everything is okay. I mean, the world is still ending, but everything is okay. Ellie and Tommy are safe. You are safe. He can’t ask for much more than that. He’s been having some anxiety issues lately, but you’ve been his saving grace. You make everything okay. With a nod, he leaves you in the bathroom alone. Sure enough, you emerge from the bathroom just a few minutes later ready to go. You grab your coats and make your way over to the bar.

Joel can’t keep his eyes off of you. All night he’s been staring you down from a seat at the bar, lightly sipping a beer. You’ve been dancing all evening with your friends..and Tommy. It was per his request for his birthday. “One dance, please. It’ll be so fun!” The younger brother pleads. You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He looks charming in his get up paired with a handsome cowboy hat on top of his head. He’s always been fond of you, but you always laugh it off and tell him to find someone his own age. He’d usually laugh and tell you to do the same, being that Joel is quite a few years older than you. Joel would usually mumble something and pout as you and Tommy continued to poke fun at Joel’s expense. You all know that Tommy’s crush isn’t serious, so you agree and follow your brother in law to the floor.

The song changes as the two of you find a spot, and a lively dance song starts. Joel watches the two of you from the bar. God, your ass looks so good in those jeans. They fit perfectly, sculpting your hips and figure so well that he can’t help but swoon over you. He watches as you and Tommy hold hands, swinging in circles like two teenagers. Tommy places the cowboy hat on your head and gives a loud, “YEEEEEEEEHAWWWWW,” across the bar. Joel laughs as you buckle over in a fit of giggles. Joel stands up, finishes his beer and slowly makes his way to you as the song comes to an end.

“Alright, give her back to me.” He says playfully, but you know part of him is serious. Tommy laughs and gives you a pat on your arm.

“Thanks, darlin’. If you get tired of my brother any time soon, you know where to find me.” He says and shuffles away laughing. Joel rolls his eyes and pulls you closer. The next song begins, the simple guitar strum taking him back to a simpler time. Harvest Moon by Neil Young plays overhead softly, and the two of you begin to sway along.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear,” He says and you can’t help but laugh at him. He stares down at you, confused as to what you’re making such a fuss about. “What are you lookin’ at?” He asks.

“You are such a silly man, Joel Miller,” You say and smile at him. You grab the back of his neck to pull his face closer to yours. “There ain’t no man better than you. I want you. I am yours.” You say, and you take the cowboy hat from your head and place it on his. He chuckles and pulls you even closer, savoring the moment.

Because I’m still in love with you

I wanna see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon

He leans down, cowboy hat slipping down his head, and gives you a slow kiss. The harmonica and guitar sing in the background. Everything feels perfect.

“My girl, I love you,” He says. He feels you smile against his lips, never taking yours away. “I love you, too.”

Because I’m still in love with you

I wanna see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon

A/N: dividers by @saradika-graphics thanks so much!!

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togrowoldinv · 6 months

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Sexiest Woman Alive

Milf!Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Wanda is a renowned actress that you’ve been seeing for a while. She gets named the Sexiest Woman Alive and you show her just how much she deserves it

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, mommy kink, oral (W receiving)

Note: I know way back someone sent me an ask saying Wanda should be named the sexiest woman alive, so this is for you anon lol. Enjoy this!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You have heard rumors that the woman you’ve been sleeping with is going to be named the sexiest woman alive, but you really haven’t put much stock in them.

The gossip blogs love to write about Wanda. who could blame them? Wanda is quite a sight to see. She hit it big after being in a few Oscar-nominated movies.

You met her on the set of her last movie where you worked as a producer. She didn’t seem like the type to be with someone like you, but there was an undeniable connection. Wanda suggested you two keep things casual, as being with someone like her is no easy task.

She didn’t want you to fall under the scrutiny of the media or for anyone to think less of her new movie just because she was sleeping with the producer. But things with her always felt more than casual.

Wanda brought you home this week to meet her kids and brother. She doesn’t get to spend near as much time with them as she wants to, so you felt honored that she invited you to join her.

You met the kids, Billy and Tommy, and immediately it felt like a family unit. Wanda didn’t say anything, but she could feel it too. Her brother, Pietro, felt the same way. It felt like home.

Wanda wakes up with a peaceful smile on her face. She rolls over and wraps her arms around you. You feel her breasts pressed against your back. Wanda drops a kiss to your shoulder.

“Good morning,” Wanda says, her accent she usually hides slipping through.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you reply.

You turn in her arms to rest on your back. Wanda rests a hand over your heart and gazes into your eyes. It’s truly the perfect way to wake up.

She leans down and kisses you softly. You deepen the kiss until Wanda’s phone rings.

“Ugh,” she groans out, a pout forming on her perfect face.

“Ignore it,” you mumble. You pull her by the back of her neck closer to you again. She grins at that.

“It’s my agent,” she says.

She places a soft kiss to your cheek before she grabs her phone. She answers it. You can’t hear what the person is saying, but the smile on Wanda’s face tells you it’s good news. She hangs up the phone.

Wanda takes a deep breath and turns back to you.

“It sounds weird to say this,” she begins. You nod to encourage her to keep going. “That was my agent telling me that I’ve been named the Sexiest Woman Alive.”

“Wanda! That’s so cool! Are you excited?” You ask.

“I don’t know,” Wanda admits. “I mean am I really-”

“Let me stop you right there,” you interrupt her. “You are 100% without a doubt the sexiest woman alive.”

You kiss her to accentuate your point. Wanda happily obliges and kisses you back.

“You’re the sexiest woman alive,” you say between kisses. “And the sexiest mother alive. And the sexiest actress alive.”

“Mmm, you’re too good to me, baby,” Wanda says.

You grab her by the waist and flip her over onto the bed. You move your hands over her body as you kiss her. Wanda’s tongue brushes against yours. She lets out the sweetest moans.

“Let me show you just how sexy you are,” you say to her.

“Please baby. Show mommy how sexy I am,” Wanda replies.

You love when she gets like this. You lift Wanda’s nightgown over her head and throw it to the side. Your lips immediately go to her nipples.

“Yeah, just like that,” Wanda encourages you. She holds the back of your head to keep your lips sucking on her breasts.

Your hand sneaks down her abdomen to land between her legs. She wears lacy panties that you can feel her wetness through. You feel the way her hips stutter at your touch. You press harder against her core.

“Y/n, baby,” she moans out. “I need you.”

“Where do you need me, Mommy?” You lift your head from her breasts to ask her.

Wanda pushes on your head to direct you further down her body. You drop kisses to her abdomen and thighs before you dive into her center. You lick a stripe up her pussy. She moans at the feeling. Your tongue works against her as she continues to soak up the feeling.

“Please, I’m going to come,” Wanda says.

“Come for me, Wands. You’re so perfect,” you say.

She cries out and comes hard against your tongue. You clean her up and move back up her body. You kiss her deeply and Wanda moans into it.

When you pull away, Wanda still has a lustful look in her eye. You move against her to relieve some of your own tension between your legs. Wanda pulls you on top of her further. You get the message. You align your own pussy with hers and move slowly.

“Fuck,” Wanda says. “Baby, you’re so good.”

You pick up the pace at her words. Wanda loves watching you move against her like this. Just your two bodies working together to feel so good. Soon, you come together, and you fall onto the bed next to her.

Wanda kisses you softly and you rest your head on her shoulder.

“This is more than just casual, isn’t it?” Wanda asks.

“I think so,” you admit. “But for now, can I just ask you one question?”

“Sure,” she says.

“Can I go with you to your Sexiest Woman Alive photoshoot?” You ask. Wanda chuckles and you can’t help but laugh too.

To you, Wanda is the most beautiful, funny, and intelligent person you know. The magazine made the right choice.

You’re luckier than anyone in the entire world that you get to be with her.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff fluff #actress!wanda

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graveyard-stray · 5 months

Text

Me or Her. || Thomas Shelby x f!Reader

Summary: All your life you’ve loved Tommy, and you finally thought he loved you too. But then, Grace came along and had to ruin everything.

(No hate to Grace. She slays. This is all just for story purposes)

Word Count: 2.5K

Tags: Angst + Fluff, unrequited love, jealousy, Smut. Dom!Tommy, Praise, dirty talk?, Grinding/Dry humping, Lowkey rough sex, loving tho, P in V sex, little bit of oral, lowkey desperate tommy and reader. No use of Y/N!!

A/N: Not proofread! Dont crucify me please…😰

“What is your god damn issue?” Tommy asked you, a frustrated expression on his face. You had run off during the large event the Peaky Blinders were currently hosting.

Ya see Tommy was your boyfriend, or something of the sort- as Tommy wasn’t the kind of guy you really would call a boyfriend. But none the less you were involved and had been for quite some time.

The way you felt about him was strong and undeniable. You had been in love with him for years, you never thought he felt the same. You felt even more sure of that when you saw him with Grace. You could tell clearly there was romance between them, a certain spark. It broke your heart but you would of course pretend to be happy for them.

But, after she had gone to New York you finally had your chance. After some time Tommy finally took some notice to you. It didn’t take too long for you two to start being…involved. Sleeping together, going to all the important events together, spending nights together at his place, the whole nine yards. Everything couples would do.

But the night of this party, no different than the others, who would walk through the door? Grace.

your heart sinks as you see her walking into the party, dressed beautifully and looking around clearly searching for something- or someone.

You moved closer to Tommy’s side and grabbed onto his arm, staying almost attached to him. He didn’t mind of course, simply continuing on with his conversations and dealings.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Grace coming over, in an attempt to make it clear what you and Tommy were you put your face in the crook of his neck, kissing him softly. He didn’t react but, you hadnt expected him too. That wasn’t the goal. The goal was to make Grace back off.

But, Grace came over anyway. Interjecting into Tommy’s conversation. The look on his face when he saw her shattered your heart. AJ mix of surprise and pleasure in seeing her. She asked to speak to him alone and he agreed, he told you to stay where you were and he would be back soon but you just couldn’t. As soon as he went to walk off with her you left the party, ran off to the room you were staying in to cry.

That’s how you got where you were now. Arguing with Tommy in the room that you so often shared.

“What is your god damn issue?” He was scowling at you as you looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness on your face. “My issue? Your the one who went off with that whore!” You snapped back at him, your voice breaking from your crying.

He scoffed, “is that really what this is about? I was just talking to her calm the fuck down.” He scolded, still clearly annoyed at your reaction.

You stood up and got closer to him, “Oh please Tommy, I’m not blind! I saw the way you looked at her when you saw her. So glad she was back from New York. I mean come on- I just….” You explained, trailing off at the end trying to find the words.

“You just what? Spit it out.” He said demanding, looking down at you as he stepped closer to you, you could feel his breathe on your face. “I just thought you loved ME, Tommy.” You said, coldly. “Bloody hell, your being ridiculous. I do!” He responded, turning around and putting some space between the two of you.

You stayed in your spot glaring at him, new tears pricking your eyes. “No you don’t. You love her. You always have and I should’ve opened my fucking eyes sooner! I should’ve known you would never love me like you love her!” You barked at him, those new hot tears now falling down your cheeks.

“I do! Just calm down and listen to me when I say that I do!” Tommy repeated, an evident tone of annoyance in his words. “Then say it.” You said, wiping the tears from your face.

He looked confused for a moment, “say what exactly?” He questioned honestly, but with his same strong and cold tone.

“Say that you love me. I know you’ve said it to her before so your bloody capable of it. So, if you really do love me, then SAY IT.” You demanded, sternly looking him right in the eyes. Most men you knew didn’t dare look at him in the eyes, but you weren’t scared of him. No matter what.

“Your being insane, I just said it!” He defended, his tone still cold but there was a clear look of searching in his eyes. Like he was struggling to find the right words to say, to find the right way to express what he wanted to. But his avoidance of doing what you asked was a very clear answer to you.

You kept your eyes glued to his and just shook your head disapprovingly, “Whatever Tommy. I can’t keep fucking doing this, I was gonna tell you to choose between me or her but it seems you already have.” The words were like venom leaving your lips. You turned to walk towards the door, your heels clacking on the floor with every step.

Before you could go the sound of Tommy’s voice registered in your mind. It was softer now and more sincere than before. “I love you.” he said, making you stop in your tracks but not yet turn to face him. “I love you so much and it scares the shit out of me.” He confessed.

You turned on your heels to face him, “what do you mean? Why does it scare you?” you asked sincerely, the look in your eyes softer now, and more sympathetic.

“After what happened with Grace? Why the hell wouldn’t I be frightened. I didn’t wanna put myself out there again just for ya to bloody leave as soon as things got good, or worse for you to be put in danger cause of me.” Tommy explained, looking away from your gaze.

He felt your soft hand on his cheek, his rough skin contrasting your own. He looked at you and quickly plunged his lips onto yours. You were a bit taken aback but quickly reciprocated.

The kiss was deep and passionate but also had an energy of desperation in it. Tommy wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, your body flush against his own.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to develope into his tongue exploring your mouth, heavy breathing and soft, muffled, moans filling the otherwise silent room. Tommy eventually grabbed you a bit roughly and pushed you down onto the bed, crawling over so he was hovering above you, doing his best not to break the kiss in the process.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled it softly, how you knew he liked, and he groaned softly into your mouth. He ground his hips against yours, his clothed crotch rubbing against yours, which was also still covered by your formal party wear.

Tommy continued to softly grind against you for a moment as the kiss continued hastily, before you pulled away to whine, “Tommy. Need you.” is all you could muster out, the feeling of desperation making you practically squirm beneath him.

He just nodded before sitting you up and pulling your dress up and over your head with ease. You felt the cold air hit your now almost bare upper body and you could feel your nipples harden under the fabric of your bra.

You felt his mouth attach to your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin softly as his hands snaked around your back and undid your bra quickly, it was pretty clear he was experienced with this but you tried to ignore that fact as it is kinda related to what started the argument to begin with.

His lips continued to kiss and nip at the skin of your neck, shoulders, and collarbone before you placed your hands on his chest and started gently tugging at his suit jacket, attempting to get it off. He chuckled and pulled away, quickly taking off his jacket as you worked to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t long before his top was also completely bare.

Tommy took this time to admire you, his eyes trailing down your neck and shoulders seeing the marks he left they would definitely be noticed tomorrow, and then to your breasts. He smiled a bit and kissed right above your chest before looking back up at you.

“s’beautiful” Tommy mumbled before putting his hand on your cheek and pulling you into another heated kiss. His other hand now groping your boob, causing you to moan into the kiss and grind your hips up into nothing.

He noticed your actions and chuckled, “someone’s needy.” He teased and you nodded quickly. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He whispered softly into your ear as he laid you back down on the bed, placing a pillow underneath your back to make you more comfortable.

His hands slid down your sides, eventually reaching your panties and pulling them down your legs. He leaned down and kissed your clit softly before licking a stripe up your cunt. “Fuckin’ delicious” he practically moaned before coming up and kissing you again so you could taste yourself on him.

your hands reached down and messed with the waistband of his pants making him chuckle once more, “So desperate, So needy, it’s adorable.” Tommy sweetly. “Just need you so bad Tommy. So pretty…want you.” You praised him as your hand cupped his cheek and you kissed his lips softly. “Please” you practically begged.

A smiled played on his lips as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “How can I say no to that beautiful face?” He whispered.

It wasn’t long at all before he had taken himself out of his boxers and was lining up with your entrance. He smiled down at you reassuringly “you ready love?” he asked, he would ask if you were ready when he was feeling extra loving, because he was generally quite large and he knew this- so he wanted to make sure. You simply nodded and this enabled him to slowly push inside of you.

The soft hiss that left your mouth soon turned into a pleasurable moan as he pushed inside of you until he was all the way in. He looked down at where you were connected and groaned, titling his head back. “Fuck baby. You take me so well.” He praised sweetly.

after just a moment of letting you adjust he started moving in and out. His pace started off slow, pulling out a bit and slowly easing back inside as far as he could go. But the pleasure was just so good as he slowly fucking into you, he needed more.

“So good f’me. Taking me nice and slow.” He praised once more. Starting to slowly pick up speed. You nodded, as any time you tried to speak the words became muffled by moans and whines.

“More..please.” You were able to mumble out, a whiney and desperate tone in your voice. Tommy groaned and bit his lip at hearing you beg for more of him like that. “If you insist sweetheart.” He responds rather quietly before picking up the pace.

He steadily builds up speed till he is at the point where he is quickly pulling all the way out just to thrust back into you as deep as he can before pulling out and doing it again and again. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your moans and mumbles and his quiet groans accompanying them.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, and he could too as your walls began to clench around him causing him to let out another moan. “Fuck.” he moaned under his breathe. “I’m close sweetheart.” Tommy said quickly, his hips still pistoning into you.

“Me too.” You moaned back, your head nodding feverishly. The feeling in your lower stomach was burning and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

What finally threw you over the edge was when his hand went down and found your clit, rubbing quickly circles onto it. The sensation of his rough calloused fingers on your sensitive clit, combined with him roughly fucking into you was enough to have you coming undone.

You squirmed beneath him as your walls clenched around him and you came while moaning his name loudly, causing him to let out another deep moan. “Fuck. Yes cum all over my cock. Good girl.” Tommy muttered as he kept pushing in and out of you. As you rode out of your high you grabbed his face in your hands, “cum inside. Please.” You asked him, a desperate look in your eyes.

This alone was enough to send him over the edge. He nodded as his hips stuttered and in just a few more thrusts he was filling you up, spilling his seed inside of you, this just caused another moan of his name to fall from your lips.

As he came you could hear him mumbling, “fuck. So good. Love you. Love you so much.” Where all the words falling from his beautiful mouth as he came inside of you.

You both took a moment to catch your breathes before he carefully slid out of you, causing an involuntary and sorta strange noise to leave you. He got up and kissed your forehead before grabbing a damp towel and using it to clean you off gently, dabbing your skin with the nice cool water.

After he finished cleaning you he climbed back in bed, still naked and pulled you into him. You snuggled close and rested your head on his chest. You two just sat there for a moment. Enjoying each other.

“I love you so much.” Were the words he said to break the silence. “And if it takes me never so much as looking at Grace again to make you happy then I will do it.” He promised, kissing the top of your head gently.

You leaned your head a bit and placed a soft kiss on his chest. “Thank you. I love you too.” You said dreamily, snuggling closer into him.

He wrapped both arms around you and held you close. You both had honestly forgotten about the party that was still going on downstairs. You couldn’t seem to care as you just held each other and enjoyed each other presence.

You fell asleep together that night, both naked and holding one another. The next morning when You and Tommy went to go get breakfast and were once again interrupted by Grace who attempted to speak him. Tommy just continued talking to you. He didn’t even look at her.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #smut #x reader #fem reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

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miaclemeverett · 2 years

Text

Summary of Dream's livestream with Techno's father if people can't or are unable watch:

youtube

Most importantly, please support Techno's family and the Sarcoma Foundation by buying merch here: (You can also donate directly to the Sarcoma Foundation here)

Dream is streaming with Techno's father & staying with the family

Techno's father met Skeppy, for the Sarcoma Foundation Gala he asked for Skeppy's favorite video with Techno and Skeppy said it was the "skeppy tries to troll me but i troll him first" video

Techno's father has been intentionally pulling up memories and stories of Techno's whole life which was "a speedrun" and full of joy and happiness, rather than just focusing on the last week

When Techno and his younger sister were diaper age, she fell down the final 2 steps of the staircase (completely fine) and while their father was trying to explain to their mother what happened, Techno walked in and said "baby fall down CRASH"

The first message that Dream sent to Techno was trying to Trojan horse his way into Minecraft Monday by playing with Techno. Techno's reply was "maybe next time" and Techno kicked his ass in Dream's first MCM. Sapnap thought Techno was overhyped but then Sapnap watched the next Techno MCM and changed his mind

Techno's father didn't really watch or understand Minecraft, he watched Techno 1v1 tons of people without losing any hearts and asked him "Do the other players even know you're there?"

Techno vs. Dream $100k duel: Techno's father never saw him stress about anything in his career except for the duel. Techno's father was competitive on Techno's behalf like "who is this green smiling man gaining subscribers faster than my boy?!" Techno texted his dad as soon as he knew it was at least a tie and he couldn't lose.

Dream saw Techno release "death merch" and thought that was the coolest, most Technoblade thing he had ever seen

Techno's entire family loved the "no one took the news harder than my health provider. they're the real victim" joke

Dream did an elbow reveal in honor of Techno

Techno's father made a joke to Dream about getting ready to do his (Techno's father's) own face reveal

Techno's father made this joke: "This video today is sponsored by cancer, without which this video would not have happened" and Dream called him an idiot

Techno's father thinks Techno would have done a proper face reveal. There were a couple of months where doctors were saying the next step would be to amputate his entire arm and shoulder. Techno joked that it was going to be the most epic elbow reveal ever and that they'd "traumatize millions." Techno's father was as positive as he could be without being fake and he got Techno a present ahead of the surgery (which never ended up happening), a 1st edition printing of Hemingway's "A Farewell To Arms."

Dream and Techno teaming in MCC: This is when they really started becoming friends, before that they had been more rivals/frenemies. Techno also never said or joked about giving Dream his first MCC win.

Techno was whitelisted for way longer before he actually joined the server, back when it was just a few people (Tommy might have asked him to whitelist Techno).

Techno had a Minecraft account called "Whitelisted" when he didn't want to be recognized, just to make the joke "You can't do this if you're not whitelisted"

Techno's dad has GOTTA tell dad jokes

When Techno was young, he would always talk to his dad about being a gaming Youtuber and Techno's father would tell him "no one would want to watch someone else play a video game" lmao

When Techno was young and he'd be building for hours in Roblox and they'd have a power failure, Techno would complain to his dad about all of his work being wasted and Techno's dad would say "all of that PLAY wasted"

Techno talked to his dad about what circumstances would lead to him face revealing, he would have wanted it to be funny and memorable but he never had a clear plan for it

Techno had a front bedroom with a TERRIBLE desk. Techno's dad told Techno to come to the studio to pick out any chair he wanted, Techno went into his dad's office and picked his dad's chair LMAO. Techno's dad offered for him to work on a soundstage because their house had horrible acoustics but Techno said "eh." At 2am when the family was trying to sleep they'd hear him screaming and yelling, it was so annoying when it happened but so painful when it stopped

Techno's dad would text him a meme and Techno would call him a loser, he'd ask him to watch Hunter x Hunter together. Techno couldn't eat without watching TV at the same time

Techno's dad sometimes sees posts on Reddit and his instinct is to send them to Techno. Techno's dad has come close to making a reddit account, he said hello and thanks to Techno's subreddit and he reads their posts a lot when he can take it.

Techno's dad knew Techno had a big audience, but he didn't and still kind of doesn't understand how he meant a lot to people in ways that have nothing to do with PvP or funny jokes. He's proud of Techno and grateful to everyone. The executive director of the Sarcoma Foundation told Techno's family they haven't seen anything like this before with regards to fundraising, she told them that a little kid ran a lemonade stand and raised $150 for the Sarcoma Foundation in honor of Techno.

Techno's dad: "If we do the call-to-action (to donate to Sarcoma Foundation) 10 times, I should get 6 of them" (referencing Techno beating Dream in the duel 6-5). Dream: "I see where he got his humor from"

There has been a refresh today of the merch store so GO BUY THE MERCH!!!! Techno didn't like when there were delays in people receiving merch, so you can only order when it's in stock so GO BUY NOW

Dream will be signing some unreleased merch concepts to include as an extra in some orders

Techno's father thanked Dream and he appreciates everything Dream did for them, he also loves Skeppy

Dream wants to get everyone together and do a massive fundraiser

#cancer #technoblade #Youtube

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Family

This story may contain themes that could be triggering.

Summary: When you save the life of the son of the Scarlett Witch and the Black Widow, your life is changed forever. For the first time in a long time you are given a family.

Warning: domestic violence, age difference relationship, rape, gun violence, injuries, miscarriage, manipulation, mention of suicide, DNI unless 18+

Word count: 5.6k

Sometimes you just acted. You didn’t think you just did. So when you were walking on your way to work you saw a young boy run out into the middle of the road, chasing after a ball and the car coming right for him wasn’t stopping, you acted. “Tommy,” You heard a woman yell. You ran to the boy, picking him up in your arms and changing your molecular makeup. The car passed through you and him You brought him back to the sidewalk and as soon as you set him down he became solid.

“Are you okay?” You asked. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you.

“Tommy,” you moved out of the way as a woman with auburn hair pulled him into a hug. “What did I say about not leaving the sidewalk?” You assumed the woman was his mother.

“Sorry Mom,” he said. “I dropped the toy Uncle Tony got me.” A redhead and another young boy joined the duo. You recognized the redhead right away. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow.

“Are you okay, kid?” She asked Tommy. He nodded and hugged the redhead. You looked at the other woman and you were staring into the green eyes of Wanda Maximoff.

“Thank you,” she said to you. “I don’t think we could ever repay you.” You blushed at the compliment, scratching the back of your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I was at the right place at the right time.” You knelt in front of the two boys. “Now don’t go playing in the road anymore, okay?” You ruffled their hair. “I won’t be there to save you.” Tommy smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. You smiled, straightening up.

“Wait,” Natasha said, stopping you before you walked away. “At least tell us your name.” You introduced yourself.

“Bye,” you waved, continuing on your way to work.

“You're famous!” Your co-worker, Emilia, said as soon as you walked into the back room. You clocked in and put on your apron. You worked at a 24hr diner. It paid decently and the hours were flexible so you could still go to school.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. She rushed over to you, her phone open to Twitter. Someone took a video of you saving Tommy and put it on social media. Needless to say, the video blew up. You groaned, placing your face in your hands.

“You should read some of these comments,” Emilia said, scrolling through her phone. “I could break a lot of people’s hearts and tell them your 16.”

“Gross,” you mumbled, walking into the kitchen. You heard Emilia close behind as you made yourself a coffee.

“How does it feel saving the kid of the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch?” You didn’t answer. “Were they hot?”

“You know I wasn’t looking,” you said, blowing on the cup before taking a much-needed sip. “I was a little focused on not making sure their son didn’t get killed.” You rolled your eyes.

“I bet they have a Mommy and Daddy kink,” you scrunch your nose.

“You are just as bad as half the people online,” you said. “Come on, we have work to do.” You tried to focus on your duties at the diner; cleaning tables, taking orders, and helping in the kitchen when needed, instead of what happened today. But the universe had other plans. Someone online found where you worked and shared it with the entire world. The diner was packed which was a blessing and a curse. The day flew by and you were leaving with a lot of tips in your pocket. However, you were exhausted since everyone that stepped through the diner wanted to meet and talk to you. They asked you questions about your powers, if you received something for saving him, were your parents proud, did they offer you a spot on the Avenger team. By the end of the day, you collapsed onto your bed thankfully you had the day off tomorrow.

It wasn’t as busy when you came in but you immediately saw the Romanoff-Maximoff family with 2 Avengers you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you walked up to the table. “Staying out of trouble?” You asked the boys. They gasped, turning around in their chairs.

“I don’t know you worked here,” Tommy said, standing up to hug you. You were surprised by that. But you gave him a quick hug back.

“That’s probably because I didn’t tell you,” you tapped his nose which caused him to scrunch it. Natasha introduced you to her sister, Yelena, and her girlfriend, Kate.

“You're the one that saved my nephew,” Yelena said. Her deep Russian accent surprised you. You nodded. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. Wanda chuckled. “Anyways, can I get you guys started with drinks?” You didn’t mean to hover around their table and it wasn’t 100% your fault. Tommy and his brother, Billy, liked to talk your ear off no matter how many times Wanda told them you had other tables to attend to. But you waved her off, saying it was fine. Besides, their colorful imagination was making your shift fly by.

Until the bell went off signaling another customer entered the diner. You looked up out of instinct and almost dropped Kate’s pancakes. It was Jason, your on-again-off-again boyfriend, and housemate. He held the door open for an older couple as his eyes looked for you. It wasn’t hard to find you but you didn’t like the way his eyes screamed that he was upset with you. When he came in he liked you to only have him as your only table. He was best friends with the owner so he could get away with anything. Natasha said your name and you were surprised to see real concern in her green eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you put on your best customer service smile but she didn’t seem convinced. “Does everything look good?” A chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘looks good’ echoed from the table. “Perfect! I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy!” You brought back the empty tray to the kitchen before making your way to Jason’s usual spot, trying to calm your raising heartbeat.

It didn’t take a Black Widow spy or an Avenger to notice the change in your demeanor. Natasha watched as you walked over to a man, who had to be twice your age. You were blocking his face but Natasha didn’t like the way he was talking to you. She couldn’t hear the conversation but your shoulders were hunched over, drawing more into yourself. ‘Don’t cause a scene,’ Wanda said, placing a hand on her leg. ‘I don’t like it either.’ Natasha began to eat. The food was always good here but now it tasted bitter.

‘What do we do?’ The Black Widow asked. It took a minute for Wanda to reply as you came back to ask how the food was and if they needed anything. Yelena asked for more hot sauce. You were smiling, laughing at a joke Tommy said but it wasn’t as light. Natasha stole a glance at the man and he was staring at you as if he owned you like you were a possession. It made Natasha’s blood boil. He caught her eyes and quickly looked away.

‘We’ll leave her our number,’ Wanda said. ‘If she needs help she can call us.’ Natasha didn’t like it. She wanted to do more but what else could they do when they had no idea what was going on?

“Here you go,” Natasha passed you the check. “Food and service were amazing as always,” you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

“Feel free to relax here there is no need to rush out but it was nice seeing you all again,” you said your goodbyes, not leaving the table without getting a hug from the twins. You went to finish cashing them out and you stopped in your tracks. Not because of the very large tip they left you but there was a note.

‘We are a phone call away if you need anything and I mean anything. -Natasha. Her phone number was at the end. You put that copy in your pocket and continued as you normally would, ignoring Jason’s eyes burning a hole in your back.

“You disgust me,” Jason said, throwing you against the wall. You whimpered as you hit your head. Stars formed across your vision. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me.”

“Baby,” you pleaded with him. “It wasn’t like that.” He twisted his hand in your hair, pulling you close.

“Flirting with a married woman twice your age,” he pulled your hair. Another whimper left your lips. “You are a slut.” He threw you against the wooden table. It broke underneath your weight and the force he threw you. “You think you're a big-time hero, now. That you're better than all of us.” You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. He kicked you in the stomach so hard you were pushed against the couch.

“Jason, stop, please,” you pleaded with him grabbing onto his leg.

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” he yelled. “You are mine. I own you.”

You woke up in the apartment alone and with your pants off. Everything ached and there was a light pounding in your skull. Jason was no doubt at a bar. You needed to get out of here. Finding your pants was easy but a sharp cramp in your stomach made you crumble to the ground. Finding some strength, you redressed yourself, found your phone, and walked out of the apartment. You weren’t sure where you were walking to. Your feet moved as your mind was in a haze. There was no place you could go. You were an only child whose parents died during the Blip. The friends you did have moved out of the city or were your co-workers from the dinner but you didn’t want them to see you like this. You sat down on a nearby bench. The pain was becoming all-consuming. You needed help. You unlocked your phone and stared at the recent contact added - Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, an Avenger. Did you want to drag them into this mess? Another shooting pain passed through your stomach as you listened to the phone ring. Maybe she wouldn’t answer and you would have to find a place to sleep tonight. “Hello? Who is this?” She answered on the third ring.

“N-Natasha,” you stuttered out.

“Y/n? Is that you?” You nodded, knowing well she couldn’t see you. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” you cried. “I-I d-don’t have anyone else to call. I’m sorry. I-” Your lungs began to hurt, you couldn’t get enough air.

“Hey, sh dorogoy,” Natasha whispered. “Where are you? Wanda and I will come to get you.” You heard rustling on her side of the phone.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “I left my apartment and just walked.” A sharp pain ran through you and gasped. “Everything hurts, Nat,” you cried.

“We will be right there, okay? Just stay right there and use your powers to keep yourself safe.” She told you. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you.”

“Okay,” your voice was slurred. “I’m sleepy.” You found yourself laying down on the bench.

“I know you are but you have to stay awake for me. Can you do that?” She asked. “Talk to me. Tell me about yourself.” You hummed.

“I’m an only child. My parents are dead and I have a tattoo on my spine. I-”

Natasha was listening as she paced her kitchen waiting for FRIDAY to trace the call. She heard three sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, one set much quicker than the other two. “Anything?” Wanda asked. The Black Widow shook her head.

“FRIDAY is still looking for her,” she heard Yelena yawn behind Wanda.

“Why did you wake us up?” Her sister asked.

“You can go back to bed but we need to watch the boys if they wake up,” Wanda explained.

“Is this about the girl who saved Tommy?” Kate asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Natasha nodded.

“I found her,” the AI said. “The location has been sent to your car’s GPS. She is 30 minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha said to you. “We will be there in 30 minutes.” You hummed.

“Nat,” Yelena said. The redhead looked back at her sister. “Keep us updated.” She nodded and followed her wife to the car. Wanda was already in the driver's seat. It was Natasha’s idea to get their place, close enough to the new Avenger tower but in a nice neighborhood for the twins to grow up in. The only thing Wanda wanted was a big kitchen, the rest was up to the Black Widow. Buying a house cemented the fact this was real to Natasha. She was married, raising two brilliant boys, and retired from active missions. Wanda grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She squeezed it back. She hoped they made it to you in time.

Natasha saw your still body laying on the bench and she was out of the car before Wanda could put the car in park. She hung up and ran over to you, kneeling next to you. “Hey sweetie,” she whispered. Wanda moved next to her. Your eyes fluttered open. A smile on your face.

“You came,” you whispered. Natasha’s heart shattered.

“Yeah, we did,” Wanda smiled. “Let’s get you someplace safe.” You nodded, sitting up and Natasha watched you try to hide the wince. “Can you stand?” You nodded again but when you stood up you collapsed, a pained cry leaving your lips. Natasha caught you in her arms.

“I got you,” your head fell on her shoulder, whimpering as you squeezed your eyes closed. Natasha didn’t miss the red flash in Wanda’s eyes. She only imagined what was going on inside your head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “So sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize,” the Black Widow said. “I’m going to lift you, okay?” She felt you nod against her skin. She was surprised at how light you were in her arms.

“Nat,” Wanda whispered as they walked back to the car. The witch opened the backseat and the redhead gently lay you down. She closed the door. “She’s bleeding.” Natasha looked at her hands and they were tainted red with your blood.

“We’ll bring her to the tower,” Natasha ran to the other side of the car and got in next to you. She shifted so your head could rest in her lap.

“FRIDAY,” Wanda said to the AI. “Inform Cho we are headed to the tower with a civilian that needs immediate medical attention.” You whimpered.

“You're going to be okay,” the Black Widow whispered. You shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha watched your eyes flutter close, frowning. You kept muttering apologies as you succumbed to the darkness.

It took a lot for Natasha to let go of you to hand over to Helen and the medical team. She quickly went to the hallway bathroom to wash the blood off. The water turned a light pink. It was part of her job to be surrounded by blood but the sight of your blood on her hands caused her body to heat up with anger. She left the bathroom and found her wife sitting in the empty chairs in the hallway. “The boys are still asleep,” she said as the redhead sat down. “Yelena said she’ll get them ready for school so we can stay.” Natasha nodded, resting her head on the wall. She felt Wanda move her fingers through hers. “It had to be the man from the diner, right?”

“Maybe,” she whispered. They knew nothing about you. The internet seemed to be in love with you for saving Tommy but they didn’t know who you were or what you were a part of.

“I’ll kill him,” Wanda threatened. Natasha saw the tips of her fingers glow red.

“Easy little witch,” She mumbled, kissing the side of her head. “Let’s find out what happened first.” The glow died down. It felt like an eternity before Helen walked out of your room and towards the couple. “Is she okay?” Natasha asked, standing up.

“She will be,” Helen said. “She has 2 broken ribs, a possible concussion, and wood splinters that we had to remove from her arm. She was raped too we did a test,” she sighed, resting her hand on her chin. “Do you know how old she is?” The couple looked at each other shaking their heads. You were a few years older than the twins but not at Kate’s age. That meant you were between 14-18.

“Helen, what’s going on?” The doctor bit her lip.

“She was pregnant,” Natasha’s blood ran cold. “Whatever happened to her caused her to miscarriage.”

“How-how far along was she?” Wanda asked.

“I’m guessing 2 months,” Helen answered. “She’s asleep now. You can go see her and let me know if she needs anything.” They said their thank yous to the doctor and ventured into your room. It was quiet besides the gentle beeping of the heart monitor you were attached to. Natasha didn’t like how still you were beside the gentle rise and fall of your chest. They sat on either side of the bed.��

“She’s just a kid, Tash,” Wanda said, brushing some hair out of your face. You didn’t move.

“I know, baby,” Natasha remembered you telling her that your parents were dead. Did you have anyone else? “We’ll be here for her.”

You woke up slowly. The bright lights overhead caused you to groan. “Sweetheart,” you turned your head towards Natasha’s voice. There was a smile on her face, almost motherly. “Hi, how are you feeling?”

“Water,” you whispered. Your throat felt raw and uncomfortable. Natasha brought a cup of water to your lips. You drank all of the water finding relief. “Thank you,” she put the cup down.

“Of course,” you sat up, wincing as you moved but you couldn’t look at Natasha.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you saw her nod her head out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s fine,” she said. “But there are some things we need to talk about regarding your health. We can wait for Wanda if you want,” you nodded.“Hey,” you felt her fingers on your arm. “We are here for you, okay? And whatever happened is not your fault.”

“Okay,” you whispered but you didn’t believe her. It wasn’t long before Wanda returned with a doctor behind her. She introduced herself as Helen and she went over the list of your injuries; broken ribs, a mild concussion, and wood splinters in your arms.

“Now, I have to tell you something that may be hard to hear,” you didn’t like her tone. “You were pregnant for about 2 months but due to the nature of your injuries you had a miscarriage.” You felt the color drain from your face. Pregnant. You were pregnant. You moved your hand over your stomach. Your periods were always irregular so nothing seemed wrong. You weren’t sure what was happening around you. The world around you turned to white noise. You were pregnant, probably with Jason’s child but you made him angry.

“Sweetheart,” you snapped to look at Wanda. She looked worried. “You're safe here. Do you know who the father was?” She asked. You hesitated but nodded. You weren’t 100% sure if it was Jason’s.

“Was he the one that did this to you?” Natasha hesitantly asked.

“It was my fault,” you defended him. “He loves me. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” Wanda whispered your name but you couldn’t look at her. Tears were blurring your vision.

“This isn’t love.”

“Yes it is,” you said. “He loves me and it was my fault -”

“Sweetheart,” Natasha touched your arm but you flinched from her. Her face fell.

“I think I want to be alone,” you told them. The couple glanced at each other, having a silent conversation. “Please.”

“Okay, we know this is a lot,” Wanda said, standing up. “We’ll come back later.” You didn’t acknowledge them as they left your room. You felt cold, so immensely cold, as your fingers danced around your stomach and each injury he gave you. Oh, how you wished your mom and dad were here. You missed your mom’s hugs and the scent that always seemed to calm you down or your dad’s corny jokes that brought a smile to your face. You angrily whipped the tears that fell. The worst part of them being gone, you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

To your surprise, Wanda and Natasha kept their promise and visited when they could. Their visits ended up being one-sided conversations - mostly them trying to get information on what happened. They asked for your age, Jason’s name and age, and if he worked at the diner. But you remained quiet. Too ashamed to tell them the truth about him. They weren’t deterred by your stand-offish behavior, it somehow made them more determined to make you feel comfortable around them. Rather it was Wanda, Natasha, or both of them, they brought you something. A blanket to keep you warm, books and magazines for you to read, and Tommy’s old DS to keep you entertained. They even contacted your school to explain your situation and collect your missing schoolwork.

It was odd, you had to admit, having people care about you. It didn’t make sense. What did you do to deserve their kindness? You were nobody compared to them. So why were they being so nice?

On a sunny afternoon, the couple snuck in a milkshake and french fries for you to snack on. You were sipping on the chocolate milkshake while Wanda was reading and Natasha looked over a mission report. “I’m 16,” you said to them, breaking the silence. “Technically speaking I was a part of the population that was blipped so I don’t know how that affects my age,” you put your drink down. “During those 5 years, my parents died; my mom from cancer and my dad from suicide. Jason gave me a place to live and food and loved me when I was alone.”

“How old were you when you met Jason?” Natasha asked.

“15,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “He was 25.” You began to play with the loose threads of the blanket they brought you.

“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” Your instinct was to lie like you did with Emilia and everyone else at the diner but it seemed like it was a bad idea to lie to two Avengers.

“No,” you whispered. “But this was the worst. He was mad at me and kept saying it was my fault.”

“What did he say that you did?” You felt your face burn as you remembered why he was upset. “You don’t have to tell us,” Natasha added quickly.

“He was..” Protective. Jealous. “Territorial,” you said. “He didn’t like me talking or flirting with other people. That was a lot of our fights and I stayed because I have nowhere else to go,” you sighed. “I bet you think I’m so stupid.”

“No,” Wanda took your hand in hers. “You are not stupid. He took advantage of you,” you whipped away the tears that fell with your free hand. “You are not alone. We are here.”

“And we aren’t going anywhere.”

When Helen cleared you Natasha and Wanda offered you a room with them. It took a lot of convincing but you moved in with them. Jason all but disappeared. He wasn’t there when you got the few possessions from the apartment and you overheard Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen one night that they still couldn’t find him. As you lived in the Romanoff-Maximoff household you all forgot about him. You forgot what this type of love felt like not having it since you were taken from your family. Wanda made sure all of your homework was done by the time dinner was ready. Natasha seemed to have food on her and she would pass you snacks. She even got you to join her on some of your runs.

It had been 4 months since you moved in with them. “Do you want us to see if Yelena or Kate can come over?” Wanda asked. The twins were playing video games in the living room and you were making a small snack for you and the boys. The couple had to go to the tower for a quick meeting. Although they were retired from active meetings they still help to provide insight. They didn’t like leaving you at home.

“We’ll be fine,” Tommy said.

“Besides Y/n is here,” Billy added. You rolled your eyes as Natasha walked over to you, stealing a grape from the plate. You glared at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” She asked you. You nodded.

“Yes, you said it will be a quick meeting,” you put the extra fruit back in the fridge. “And when you get back you can bitch about how the meeting should have been an email.” Natasha gasped.

“Language,” you smiled, bringing the fruit plate into the living room.

“We know the rules. Don’t worry about us,” you sat on the couch, your feet tucked underneath you, and opened the book you were currently reading.

“Text us if anything happens,” Wanda kissed the twins’ forehead and you were surprised as she kissed yours.

“Bye Mom,” the boys said. You smiled as they left the house. As the door closed Tommy let out a heavy sigh.

“They worry so much.” He said.

“They just care about you,” you defended, not looking up from your book.

“They care about you too,” Billy said. You glanced at the boy and he was looking at you with a smile. You smiled back and went back to reading.

You weren’t sure how long it was but Natasha and Wanda were still not home when the doorbell rang. You looked at the twins but they were engrossed with their video game. “Hey, are your moms expecting someone?” Billy shrugged.

“No clue,” the doorbell rang again. You sighed, closing your book. As you stood up a voice behind the door caused you to freeze.

“I know you're in there, little shadow. Come out to play.”

“Billy, Tommy, go upstairs and call your moms.” Jason started to giggle at the door handle.

“We can help,” Tommy said. They were training powers but they were still unpredictable.

“Go!” You ordered as the front door burst open. Tommy grabbed Billy’s hand and used his super speed to bring them both upstairs. Jason stood there, a pistol in his hand and he looked like he hadn’t bathed or slept in months. You just had to keep him away from the twins and wait till Wanda and Natasha got here.

“Hello beautiful,” he stalked over to you. “You got me in a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble?” You questioned, taking a few steps back with your hands in the air. You wanted to keep some distance from him. “Who are you in trouble with?” He laughed, pointing the gun at you.

“My employers,” his smile still seemed to send a chill down your spine. “Did you think I could ever willingly love you?” He asked. “You were a job, an assignment.” Your heart began to pound against your ribs. Could he hear it? You were backing up into the dining room.

“Who wants me?” You found yourself asking.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll be dead and I’ll crave up those little brats for good measure,” you let out a shaky breath and lowered your hands.

“You aren’t getting to them,” you said. “You’ll have to get through me first.”

Natasha was pouring a cup of coffee for her and Wanda. They were taking a short break before finishing up. She felt arms wrap around her waist and the warmth of her wife pressed against her back. “I wanna go home.” She whined. Natasha chuckled, turning around to see Wanda’s noise pinched. She kissed it.

“We are almost done, baby,” she handed Wanda her coffee. “I’m thinking of pizza and movie night?” Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw it was Billy. Showing Wanda the caller ID before putting the call on speaker. “Hi, bud.”

“Mom,” he was whispering and his voice was shaky.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“The bad man is here,” he whispered. They weren’t sure what he was talking about. “The bad man that hurt Y/n.” The couple dropped their coffee on the floor and sprinted towards their car. “Please hurry.” A gunshot went off and both of the boys let out a quick squeak.

“Boys, I need you to stay right there,” Natasha said.

“But what if she’s hurt? We can help.”

“Stay hidden. We are on our way.”

Natasha felt her heart beating against her ribs as she saw their door broken down. They called out your name but you didn’t respond. The Black Widow had her gun out as she searched the bottom floor. They made it to their dining room and found a man laying on top of you. Natasha ran over, kicking the man off of you and his body slumped to the side with a bullet wound in his stomach. Your eyes were wide, hands shaking as you held the gun in your hand. “Hey sweetheart,” Natasha put her gun away. “Can I have that?” You nodded, handing her the gun. Natasha removed the magazine from the gun and put it on the ground next to her. Wanda knelt next to you and helped you sit up. Your eyes kept glancing at this still form but Wanda brought you into her arms, sliding you from the body. You were shaking in her arms. Natasha walked over to him and checked for a pulse but she shook her head when she found none. Wanda held you tighter.

“Billy and Tommy,” you whispered. “Are they okay?” Wanda.

“Do you want to go find them?” You nodded. Natasha sent a quick text to Sam and met her wife upstairs. You were waiting for her to emerge from their bedroom and didn’t take long for Wanda to bring out a new shirt for you. Yours had blood on it. You changed quickly, leaving the bloody shirt on the floor, and continued to the guest room. “Billy, Tommy, it’s safe.” The twins didn’t need to be told twice before they ran out of the closet and straight into you. The force knocked you to the ground.

“You can’t do that,” Tommy said, hitting your chest. “Why do you always have to be the hero?” He cried. “We could have helped.” He kept hitting you but his hits got softer while he cried against you.

“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on his back. “I know you are feeling a lot but we need to stop hitting her.” You overcame your shock and hugged the twins tight.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You said.

“But you're our sister,” Billy said. “We can’t lose you.” You looked at Natasha and Wanda at the term Billy called you. The couple smiled at you. They tried to convey all the emotions they were

“I’m right here,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Wanda walked out of the bathroom with a smile on her face. Her bed was full of Natasha, the twins, and you. The boys were fast asleep, cuddling against you. There was just enough space next to Natasha for her to squeeze in. “We are going to need a bigger bed if this continues to be a thing,” Wanda climbed into bed. Natasha was running her fingers through your hair. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” You shrugged.

“I know he was bad and he would have hurt me or worse the twins but I didn’t want to kill him.” You whispered. Natasha sighed.

“I’m sorry you had to be put in that position,” Natasha said. You nodded, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of her hand. Wanda gently nudged her wife’s shoulder, nodding her head. “About what Billy said.” Your eyes shut open.

“Like you said there were a lot of emotions,” you shrugged again. Wanda tried to keep her powers at bay but she could feel loneliness washing over you.

“Well, Natasha and I want to make what Billy said official.”

“I’m sorry. What?” You questioned.

“We want to adopt you,” your jaw dropped and Wanda giggled, using her pointer finger to close your mouth.

“Are you serious?” You asked. The couple nodded. Tears swelled in your eyes and without hesitation you jumped up and brought them into a hug.

“Ah,” Billy gasped.

“Is there an Earthquake?” Tommy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You ended the hug and whipping the tears out of your eyes.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just happy.”

“Alright,” Wanda said. “We need to readjust so I don’t fall off the bed.” It was you in the middle with Tommy and Billy on either side and Natasha and Wanda still on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as the exhaustion of the day caught up to you.

“No need to thank us,” Natasha whispered.

“We are a family,” Wanda said. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Part 2

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x daughter #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #yelena belova x kate bishop #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #Kate Bishop #marvel #Marvel AU

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perfectlysunny02 · 22 days

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Tommy should’ve knocked. He should’ve knocked and then came back later instead of just letting himself into Evan’s apartment.

Evan and Eddie are fighting, and the last thing he wants to do, as Evan’s boyfriend and Eddie’s friend, is to get caught in the crossfire, because there is no way that’s ending well, but he also can’t leave because then they’ll hear him and he’ll be forced to take sides anyway. He cannot possibly win in this situation so he just stands near the bathroom, hardly daring to breathe.

“God,” He hears Eddie snap, and his heart squeezes at the way he lowkey hates the way Eddie’s using that tone on his boyfriend. “You’re my best fucking friend. You’re supposed to support me.”

“Not when you’re fucking cheating on your girlfriend, Eddie,” Evan snaps back, and Tommy’s eyes widen. “Not when you’re dropping your son off here and fucking lying to us both, and going to meet a woman who looks like your dead wife. Did you even think about how this would affect Christopher?”

“Don’t throw Christopher back into my face.” Eddie snarls. “This isn’t about him. This is about me-“

“No! This is about him. It is about him because you’re a dad and you cannot afford to be this fucking delusional. He’s already fucking traumatized, Eddie! Imagine how he’s going to feel when he finds out you’re stepping out on your girlfriend to fuck someone who looks like his dead mom!”

“Fuck you,” Eddie’s voice has gone deathly quiet, and Tommy finds himself walking towards the living room because it sounds like they’re about to start dealing hits. “I support you in everything. Absolutely every goddamn thing you do. Even when you’re being so fucking needy, and this is how you-“

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because Tommy’s shoving him away Evan as hard as he can. He stares at Eddie shaking, and suddenly realizes he’s angry.

He’s angry, because he can see the hurt Evan carries around, the hurt Eddie probably know intimately as Evan’s best friend. He has no right to snarl his greatest insecurity at him.

“Get out,” Tommy says, nudging his chin towards the door. “Get out and don’t come back until you get your shit straight. Get out. I don’t know where you thought you had the damn right.”

Eddie stares at him shocked for just a moment, before his face settles into something ugly, and he’s gone. Evan falls into him, and Tommy wraps his arms around him.

“It’s okay, baby,” He tells him, but he’s not sure it is. He’s not sure if anything is okay.

tagging: @whatisreggieshortfor @actuallyitsellie @runicnotation @theotherbuckley @mattdoesunity @between-two-fandoms @clandestine-j @keenonkinkley @limoreaulover @mintedwitcher @min-kit @notnowtobey @nznaturalkiwi @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @persephones-stars @tevankinkley @tiltingheartand @tizniz @twopercentboy

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #911 abc #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #sunny’s works #bucktommy blurb #tevan #eddie and buck are fighting

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joelmillers-whore · 9 months

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The Only Thing I Did Right

summary: after a patrol gone wrong, joel races to get you back to jackson. while the doctor tries to save you, he wrestles with the guilt of letting you down.

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 2.6K

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, soft joel, hurt/comfort, minor descriptions of blood, joel thinking everything is his fault, tommy is there briefly, mentions of drinking and/or alcohol dependence, happy ending don’t worry, angst if you squint

A/N: i meant for this to be a short drabble because my creativity has been waning lately and i’m a little burned out to be honest, but i got carried away, but what else is new. anywho, enjoy this lil fic. let me know if ya’ll would like to see another part of this or maybe an interconnected one-shot series, i would be down. i really enjoyed writing this. also, i am still trying to power through this sickness i have suddenly, and i don’t think i’ll be able to post hard light chapter two this week.

I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

“Where’s it hurt?”, Joel asked, in a low, almost inaudible voice. He tried to keep his tone calm, trying to keep you calm, but his mind was flustered, and he was on edge, and he was pretty sure that you could see right through his charade.

He swallowed thickly, past a lump that was stuck in his throat. His eyes darted all over you, tracking every movement, every laboured breath, and wince.

It had been decades since he had felt like this; the constricting of his chest, the shallow and unsure breaths that he was letting out, and the staggering way his heart clenched, a silent prayer on his lips, asking any God who would listen to spare you.

It all felt so overwhelming and a little too familiar. Images of Sarah flashed through his mind, dredging up demons and emotions he had thought he had left in the past.

He had never been so afraid of losing someone he loved, not since Sarah, but here he was now, feeling like he was about to collapse at any minute, terrified of making the wrong move and losing you.

He swallowed again, harsher as he concentrated on his breathing.

He hadn’t let his mind drift to thoughts of his daughter in a long time, his chest burning in that familiar way each time that he did, squeezing to the point of pain.

He let an idle hand drift to his chest, right above his heart, and gripped it, trying to will it subconsciously to slow down. But it was no use.

There were very few things in the world that made Joel feel as if the ground was collapsing underneath him, and thinking of Sarah was definitely one of them.

Whenever he found himself thinking of her, thinking of how he couldn’t save her, the breath from his lungs evaporated, and guilt slammed into him with enough force to destabilize him.

But seeing you like this, the woman that he had promised Tommy that he would watch over and protect, writhe in pain as blood pooled under your shirt, that was another thing that he couldn’t bear to witness.

You looked so helpless, lying in his arms, looking up at him with droopy lids, a faraway look in your eyes.

He cursed under his breath, knowing that you were injured because of him, because of his carelessness.

You were going to be another person he couldn’t protect and he didn’t know how much more of that he could take.

“‘M fine”, you said, weakly, your breath coming out in stunted gasps.

Joel shook his head, tempered anger coursing through his veins, “Don’t pull that brave shit with me”, he bit out, harsher than he intended. He gripped you tighter in his arms, holding onto you for dear life. “I know it hurts, so just tell me”.

He watched as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, you tried to blink them but the motion only made them fall, coating your cheeks.

Joel lifted a hand, wiping them away. He hated to see you cry, he couldn’t stand it, it broke his heart.

He left his thumb on the apple of your cheek, thinking that maybe the sensation would bring you some comfort, thinking that maybe it would bring him some comfort.

“Am I going to die, Joel?”, you asked, a slight tremble in your voice.

Joel shook his head, adamantly, “Not if I can help it”.

You faded in and out of consciousness as Joel debated his next move, trying to figure out how he was going to get you back to Jackson.

He clutched the hem of your shirt, the material sticking to your stomach as he peeled it from you.

He visibly cringed as he eyed your wound, the punctured flesh dispelling crimson red at a rapid and borderline concerning rate.

He couldn’t wait around any longer, couldn’t wait for the next round of patrol to find them, if they even came out this far. So, he took matters into his own hands, his muted internal clock ticking down the more he looked at you pale in his arms.

He scooped up your limb body, pressing you flush to his body, determination and adrenaline pumping through him, the driving force propelling him into action.

There was only one thought in his head; get you back to Jackson, by whatever means.

As he stepped out of the small cabin, Joel noticed that the sun was slowly starting to dip beneath the horizon, the pop of blistering orange making him anxious.

Night would come quicker than either of you wanted and then the real challenge would begin, trying to navigate through the dense forest and get back to the community in the dark.

You were trembling in his arms, shaking so violently, from either the bitter cold or the loss of blood, that he thought that he was the one who was hurting you.

“Can you ride?”, he asked, urgency in his voice.

“Dunno”.

Joel couldn't risk injuring you further, but he also couldn’t waste any more time, so he made an executive decision. He had been making a lot of those on your behalf today, and his most recent had gotten you in this position in the first place, it was his fault.

If anything happened to you, he wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

He placed you tentatively on the ground, his arm sneaking around your waist to stabilize you as he untied his horse from the post.

“Alright”, he bent slightly, grabbing your foot and placing it in his hand, “Nice ‘n easy now”.

He could see the strain on your face, the pellets of sweat sticking to your hairline as you used as much strength as you could, hoisting yourself up and onto the horse. You’d let out a strangled groan as you got situated.

Once he knew that you were on, he hopped up, grabbing the reins and digging his heels into Shimmer’s body, spurring her into a run, his motivation to get back to Jackson making his heart race.

The only solace that Joel took from not being able to see you from the position he was in, was that he could feel you gripping him from behind, your arms latching around his waist, your cheek flush with his back.

He could feel your chest rising and falling against him and his pulse softened, knowing that you were still fighting, still holding on for him.

He had pushed Shimmer to her limits, getting you both back to Jackson in record time. The sequence of events that followed had been a blur to him.

The gates had opened immediately, the guards recognizing him even in the dusk.

He remembered screaming his throat raw, begging someone for help as he carried you into town and to the doctor.

He’d watched on, helplessly, as they quickly began working on you. Blood and cloth blurred his vision, making his stomach twist with queasiness.

He had to leave the room, too overcome with emotion and nausea to be of any help to you.

When he stepped outside of the small makeshift clinic, the frigid air pierced his lungs, drawing out a long and aching breath, striking him so sharply that he stumbled forward.

He had gripped a wooden post for support, digging his palms into it for purchase, closing his eyes.

He tried to get a handle on his breathing, but it was no use. He felt the bile creeping higher in his throat, until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

It poured out of him, leaving his mouth dry and his head spinning. It was a visceral reaction, his worry over you, over what he had let happen.

He cursed Tommy for entrusting him with you, something so precious. He knew things could have turned out worse, and he was glad that they hadn’t been, but he couldn’t get over how bad they were right now.

How shaken to his core he was that he had allowed this to happen at all.

Joel couldn’t stand to be there anymore, just on the other side of the door that led to you, powerless while the doctor patched you up. So, he did the one thing he had always been good at, he left.

Snow crunched underneath his boots, growing louder in his ears as he walked away from the clinic. He thought that a drink might help calm his nerves.

A part of his brain wanted to forget that this day had ever happened, and another part told him that no amount of alcohol would repair the guilt that was nestled snuggly in his gut. But he could try.

Joel didn’t know how long he had been at the Tipsy Bison, he had lost track of time after the third or fourth whiskey. He blew out a shaky breath, letting a hand drift over his haggard features.

He had been running on adrenaline the whole day and now he was crashing, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in his bones.

But he couldn’t rest, he didn’t deserve to, not when he didn’t know if you had made it or not.

A jolt of horror shot through his body, making his stomach twist in knots. What if you hadn’t made it? He licked his dry lips, closing his eyes as he felt a prick form behind his eyes.

Joel was startled by a firm hand on his shoulder. He twisted slightly to see who it was, his face dropping further when he saw that it was Tommy.

He didn’t have to look at his brother for long to get a read on his expression. What he was thinking.

He was pissed and rightfully so. He had failed you and now he was waiting for Tommy to lay into him, chastise him for being so fucking stupid.

“She’s askin’ for ya”, Tommy said, keeping his voice soft.

Joel turned around in his seat fully to look at Tommy, surprised that he had gotten to his feet so fast. He snorted out a laugh, seeing the fucking relief that was surely on Joel’s face.

Tommy clapped his shoulder again, almost to stabilize him. Joel couldn’t look his brother in the eye, guilt bubbling and breaking the surface, making his skin sting.

“‘M sorry”, he mumbled, “I should’ve been there, I should’ve gotten to her quicker, I shoulda done something”.

Tommy shook his head, “You couldn’t’ve known that would happen, Joel. So stop blaming yourself”.

Joel scratched at his facial hair, running his hand along his jaw, pondering Tommy’s words.

He continued, “You protected her with your life, brother. I couldn’t ask for more than that”.

Joel felt emotion clog his throat. Tommy wasn’t angry with him like he suspected he would be, he was grateful even. Something unfamiliar unfurled in his stomach, something that felt like acceptance.

A long beat stretched between them, “Go see her”, Tommy finally said, a smile pulling at his lips.

He led Joel out of the bar, leading him back to the clinic to go see you. Tommy stopped short of the door, motioning for him to continue without him. Joel nodded curtly, slipping past and entering the small, single-room cabin.

Tentatively, Joel inched closer to the bed that you were in, walking on the balls of his feet, uncertain if you were awake or not. You were lying down, stretched out with your back to him, He sat on the edge of the bed, seeing you turn toward him, a grin on your face as you looked at him. Joel’s face heated under your gaze.

He didn’t deserve that smile, he thought, but he would take it anyway, if you were willing to give it to a man like him. He reached out, stroking your face softly with the back of his fingers.

“Hey, darlin’, how ya feelin’?”, his voice was throaty, raw.

His heart hammered below the surface as your eyes locked with his, pining him to where he sat. He didn’t want to breathe too loudly or make any sudden movements, too afraid that he would break the spell.

“Better now”, you croaked.

Everything collapsed at once inside of him; his resolve, his strength, his pride. He couldn’t fight it any longer, how fucking happy he was that you were still here, still with him.

“What’re you smiling at, hm?”, you asked, arching a brow.

Joel shook his head, his explanation dying on his tongue. He had never been one to lose his words but right now, being so close to you, he wasn’t sure he knew how to speak anymore.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back to the moment. Your hand was freezing as it touched his skin but he didn’t mind.

His smile disappeared as your eyes scanned his face, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry—”, he started, but you shook your head.

“It was my fault, Joel. Don’t you dare apologize for my fucking mistake. I won’t hear it”, you said, your tone firm.

Joel wanted to argue, to tell you that it was his fault but he didn’t have the heart, not when you were only just beginning to heal up, still looking weak and pale.

He could wait for another day to have it out with you. He just nodded instead, and you hummed, content with him seemingly letting it go for now.

Your hand was still on his wrist and he felt a strange sense of calm.

“Come ‘er”, you whispered, tugging on his wrist lightly.

He wasn’t sure what was happening until your lips were on his, soft, pliant, and full. The kiss was sweet but it only lasted a minute. He pulled back, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Thank you”, you said, eyes shining as the light hit them, making them more beautiful than he thought was possible.

He nodded quickly, head still spinning from kissing you. It had been a thank-you kiss and he shouldn’t think more of it.

But goddamn it, he wanted more. He wasn’t mad or upset that you had kissed him, honestly, he had been meaning to do it for months now.

If a kiss filled with gratitude for saving your life was all that he could get, he would accept that, he didn’t want to push his luck.

You noticed the uneasy look on his face, shifting in the bed and using your dwindling strength to sit up.

Now you were the one with creased brows, your eyes darting over his face, trying to find your answer. Realization struck your features.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, Joel. I just didn’t know how else to say it”.

Joel felt like a jackass, that wasn’t what he meant at all.

“That’s not— that’s not it, darlin’. I just didn’t think you’d want to kiss an old man like me”.

His chuckle was thick with depreciation, but you just shook your head, eyes gleaming with something he didn’t recognize. You chewed your lower lip and Joel couldn’t help but stare.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while actually”, you admitted.

Joel’s head snapped up, searching your eyes. You were sincere and he knew it. That was the confirmation that he needed, the hope that lit a flame in his chest. You wanted him too.

A deep chortle escaped Joel’s throat, his face neutral as he leaned in closer to yours. “Then I guess we better make up for lost time then”.

Joel pressed his lips into yours, moulding to the shape of them as he gripped your face in his large hands, letting a groan slip into your mouth. You pulled back with a giggle, fisting the hair at the base of his head.

Your smile was a thousand watts and Joel couldn’t look away. His grip on your face tightened a little more, making sure that this was really happening to him.

He couldn’t believe it but he dove back in regardless, wanting to soak in as much of your love and light that you were willing to give to him.

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shehungthemoon · 1 month

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Bucktommy Fic prompts: first vacation or snowy cabin vibes

first 118 bbq

Buck rescues a kitten from a tree and keeps it #catdads

Buck telling Tommy he was a sperm donor with zero context like ‘oh yeah biologically I have a kid’ and walking off leaving Tommy like ???

First Christmas together

Idk if it’s your vibe but something relating to the ring cutter?

Babysitting jee

Tommy realising ‘random facts with Buck’ is a thing

Flying lessons

Sorry I have a lot of thoughts and zero ability to write lollll

Oh, anon. I saw "babysitting jee" and could not get the image of Tommy looking at dollar store kids coloring books out of my head. And here we are 🖤

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Buck asked into his phone, balancing it in between his shoulder and ear as he unpacked his locker for the night. "It's just that Tommy and I don't really get a lot of time to see each other with our schedules and everything, and—"

"Buck," Chim interrupted, "Yes I'm sure. I've known Tommy longer than you have, unless you've somehow forgot that since the last time you begged me for old, embarrassing photos of the man."

"Yeah yeah," Buck mumbled, "I know I know, sorry." Chim made a satisfied hum. Buck finished zipping up his bag. "Bet I know him better though."

Chimney started squawking indignantly over the phone. Buck grinned into his chest.

So, Buck invited Tommy to come babysit Jee with him that night, nervous the whole time he typed the text.

-i know it's not really a great date setting

He typed after he sent the initial message.

-totally ok to say no

He was stupid to be nervous. The reply came almost immediately.

-Are you kidding? I've been waiting to meet that girl ever since Chimney sent me those first pictures.

-Of course I'll be there

---

Tommy met him at Buck's door with a sweet grin and a bunch of coloring books in his hand. Buck couldn't do anything but stare at him for a moment and smile back.

"Hi."

Buck wondered if those butterflies in his stomach would ever go away. When Tommy leaned forward and pressed a gentle, quick kiss onto his lips, Buck came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they ever would.

"I brought these," Tommy said as he walked into the apartment, shaking the coloring books in the air and looking just a little bashful about it. "Didn't want to show up empty handed but I figured wine wasn't the right call for the venue."

Buck chuckled and shut the door behind him. "You definitely figured right." He pointed over toward the media area. "Wanna meet the star of the show?"

Tommy grinned. "More excited to see her than you, really."

Buck scoffed with feigned-offense and pinched Tommy's arm before moving his hand to the small of Tommy's back, pressing him gently toward where Jee was set up in front of his couch.

Jee looked up from her toys with wide eyes when they came into view. "Hey hey, princess, I got someone for you to meet!" Buck held his free hand out to point at his boyfriend. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Jee-Yun." She kept still in contemplation and made a humming noise up at them.

Tommy crouched down and gave her a little wave, and Buck would have laughed at the sight of such a big man making himself so small if it weren't the most endearing thing he'd seen in ages.

"Hi Jee-Yun. It's really nice to meet you," Tommy said with a quiet voice Buck'd never heard before. Jee just kept staring over at him with blinking, assessing eyes. "I really like your sparkly dress," he continued, and that seemed to do it. Jee broke out into a wide, squinty-eyed smile and let out one of those little kid laughs that melted hearts.

"Sequins," Jee said brightly; or at least tried to say, there was definitely an 's' sound in there somewhere.

The floor became their home for the next few hours, Jee happily adjusting to her new friend and toddling between the two of them, carting markers and dolls and pieces of Goldfish back and forth across the carpet. The two of them got easily talked into playing Barbies for one memorable twenty minute stretch, in which Buck learned quite a few things about Tommy's sense of fashion.

"You can't put those rain boots on Tiffany when she's wearing that dress, they don't go at all," Buck said contemptuously.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why not? There's yellow in the belt." He squinted and held Tiffany up a little closer to his face. "Sort of."

Buck groaned painfully. "They're way to clunky for that outfit! And it's not even raining, Tommy! Why would she be wearing rain boots?"

Tommy blinked at him for a second before slowly tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Of his very-much-indoors living room. Buck groaned louder.

Jee solved the problem easily by shoving the rain boots onto Tiffany's arms and yelling out Gloves! Buck was a little miffed he didn't think of that first.

Dolls, juice-box breaks, Buck chasing Jee around the first floor making firetruck sounds and sending Tommy into stitches from where he was still sprawled in front of the TV—the evening passed all too quickly and with more laughing than either of them had done in weeks. Which of course meant that by the time that Maddie and Chimney texted that they were going to be heading back soon, both grown men were beyond pooped and covered in more sticky substances than was probably recommended by most health codes. Jee had not decided to take it easy on the new guy, that's for sure.

Buck had handed a squirming Jee over to Tommy a bit ago while he got his niece's stuff all organized back together in her bag. By the time he'd gotten the rest of her leftover snacks out of the fridge and made a passable effort at tidying up the counters, the excitable sounds of Tommy and Jee's earlier conversations had died down and Buck decided it was about time he headed over to check up on them.

He was greeted with the sight of the two of them tucked into the couch, Jee set up on Tommy's lap with one of her new coloring books in her hand and an assortment of markers wedged into the crook of Tommy's bent knee in easy reach beside her. She was quietly and happily plugging away at one of the drawings—a startlingly pink giraffe, Buck thought he could make out—scribbling nonsensically across the page with an intently closed fist. Tommy had an arm resting along one of her sides to keep her from falling off, but the man himself was very much not paying too much attention anymore. His head was lolled back against the cushion, eyelids fluttering as he caught a few needed minutes of rest. Buck wasn't worried; he knew by the way Tommy's finger was still drawing lazy shapes along the frills of Jee's sparkly dress that Tommy'd be awake and aware in an instant if she needed him.

Buck stole a moment to just stand there and watch without either of them noticing. He took it in.

Tommy. His boyfriend. With a baby tucked happy against his chest.

Unbelievably small compared to him yet being held with all the gentleness in the world. His boyfriend and his niece. Both safe and content, on his couch.

Something tugged warm and tight behind Buck's ribs. The feeling almost toppled him over, dragged the breath from his lungs, love, pride, want.

He could have been sick with it.

He quietly padded over and lowered himself onto the cushion next to them before he could get too overwhelmed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against where he knew Tommy's dimple was, and soon enough felt Tommy's smile underneath his lips.

"You having a good time there, Jee?" Buck asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see her. She twisted around to nod empathetically up at him.

"Uncle Tommy got me a jungle," she said, holding her booklet up with a grin, and Buck let out a surprised noise.

"Uncle Tommy, huh?" He teased, poking Tommy in the ribs and looking at him fondly. Tommy swatted his hand away and then grabbed his fingers before he could retreat too far, and Buck let him tug him in close and rest their now tangled hands against his side. Buck settled in sideways against the back of the couch and tried to push down the fondness bubbling up inside him before it burst.

"She said it earlier," Tommy said, brow furrowed just a bit. Buck wanted to press it out with his thumb. "It felt mean to correct her." Buck just hummed and squeezed his hand until he'd relaxed back into the couch again.

Tommy let him rest his forehead against his shoulder, and the three of them whiled away the next quarter hour laughing at Jee's animal noises and picking crazy colors for tigers and monkeys and toucans.

Maddie and Chimney showed up before for too long, greeting Tommy with just as much warmth as they did Buck, especially after they saw just how adamant Jee was about hanging off of Tommy's calf and not letting him go even in the face of Goldfish bribes.

Maddie and Chimney finally got her detached with the promise of an extra bedtime story, and in a flurry of side-hugs and handshakes and little versions of such for Jee, they said their goodbyes. Tommy waved them out the door with an arm around Buck's shoulders.

They stumbled up to bed that night too tired for much else other than sleep, Buck's heart skipping a beat in his chest every time he caught Tommy's eye or felt him brush against him as they moved around the loft. Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted off. Buck pressed himself hard back into Tommy's chest and fell asleep to the feeling of feather-light kisses pressed against the back of his neck and a heart beating alongside his own.

#bucktommy #911 abc #fic #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #jee yun buckley han #fic prompt #my fic #drabble #911 fox #ask #🌻#oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr

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