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#tommy winchester
fanficfanattic · 5 months
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With the immense aid of @orbitalpirate, I present to you the Season 2 Players.
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1 Kukoč (No 7) - Reserve Right Midfielder
2 Tyler Shannon (No 27) - Reserve Center Midfielder
3 Thierry Zoreaux (No 81) - Goalkeeper
4 Tom O’Brien (No 1) - Reserve Goalkeeper
5 Jack Dawkins (No 15) - Reserve Center Midfielder
6 Declan Cockburn (No 19) - Reserve Forward
7 Robbie Roberts (No 16) - Reserve Forward
8 Tommy Winchester (No 4) - Reserve Center Back
9 Paul Reynolds (No 20) - Reserve Center Back
10 Jan Maas (No 13) - Center Back
11 Richard Montlaur (No 8) - Center Midfielder
12 Moe Bumbercatch (No 21) - Center Midfielder
13 Kyle McCracken (No 28) - Reserve Forward
14 Gareth Canterbury (No 3) - Reserve Left Back
15 Jeff Goodman (No 17) - Left Back
16 Colin Hughes (No 12) - Left Winger
17 Dani Rojas (No 14) - Striker
18 Isaac McAdoo (No 5) - Captain & Center Back
19 Jamie Tartt (No 9) - Striker
20 Sam Obisanya (No 24) - Right Winger
21 Arlo Dixon (No 2) - Right Back
(Not numbered, but that is Coach Armada to the left in the second row. He shaved that beard off for season 3.)
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badbucky · 1 year
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"Shouldn't you be at training?" Oh yeah, but don't worry. I've got it all covered.
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hanitje · 1 year
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OMG, the backup players have lines!
I ACTUALLY SCREAMED AND HAD TO PAUSE HAHAHAHA
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batcavescolony · 23 days
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This is kinda revolutionary? Just a few years ago destiel was queerbaiting fans to superhell but now? NOW? A show saw the fans HC a character as queer with valid evidence and instead went "you know what? You're right. We didn't originally plan this for them but we see you". Then four episodes into the season, canonized his queerness. Not the last second, Not the last Episode. the BEGINNING of the season, with time to expand AND we know we're getting another season after this. Just look how far we've come.
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itshelia · 4 months
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Is it just me or everyone imagine their fav characters that they are obsessing over in real life???
Like I'll be at work and then I imagine that bitch sitting next to me, talking to me and admiring me while I FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAVENT KISSED A MALE SPECIES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE
I don't know if that's sign of a fucking mental problem or what but I swear if I'm even Slightly upset or tired of my life i WILL open tumblr and start imagining them or talking to them (aka my wall. It be sitting there like the fuck gurl im not your man)
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bucknerdycore · 18 days
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Only saying
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hacked-wtsdz · 2 months
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Forever obsessed with characters who can’t go back. Characters who want to return to their place in the carton cutouts of life but the shape just won’t fit anymore. Characters who dreamt so hard of getting back home to find out that wherever they are isn’t home anymore. Characters back from the dead or the border with death for whom life suddenly takes a new shape. What will you do with it now, now that it’s so different from what you knew it to be? How do you sit amongst people for whom it’s the old shape and size and smell and taste? Characters who believe that they should be dead but don’t want to die and yet thread a bit too close to the edge. Characters who are dead and walking this life. Forever obsessed.
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weirdfangirly · 15 days
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Little Red Light—+18
Dark Fiction
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dark!Joel x reader // dark!Tommy x reader
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, sex work, sexual exploitation (reader is being filmed against her will), dark Joel & Tommy, drug abuse (cocaine), drinking, name-calling, spanking, humiliation & degradation of reader, description of injuries & blood, cum-shot, face-fucking, blowjob, kissing feet, face-slapping, dark themes…
Summery: In a rundown motel, reader finds herself in an nightmarish encounter with Joel and Tommy. Trapped in a cycle of abuse and degradation, she struggles to escape the grim reality of her life as a prostitute, haunted by the consequences of her choices
A/n: please like, share and leave a comment! It honestly is my only motivation to keep writing. This is dark, very long and very depressing. Much fun xoxo
In the eerie silence of the night, you stood hesitantly before room 23 of a shady motel, its flickering red neon sign offering you a pale glimmer of confidence in the desolate landscape.
Wearing a coat that failed to shield you from the biting cold, your wrestled with a mix of anticipation and worry.
Tonight marked the beginning of yet another miserable dance with your fate as you mentally prepared yourself to meet your first client of the night.
You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock on the door.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
“Let’s get this over with.”, you thought.
Moments later, the door cracked open, revealing a man who’s weathered face painted with lines of hardships.
The man’s rugged features softened slightly as his stern eyes landed on you, his gaze betraying a flicker of empathy.
Your soft features were the prettiest sight he’d seen all week. A pretty little thing.
“Come in.”, the man’s voice, gravelly yet strangely comforting, broke the silence of the night.
He went by the name of Joel Miller.
With a cautious nod, you stepped inside. Your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
The door closed behind you with a soft *click.*
As soon as you stepped in, a wave of musty air assaulted your senses, carrying the unmistakable scent of neglect and decay of the room.
“It smells like an old ladies house.”, you thought.
Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of dilapidated furniture that sagged under the weight of years of use and abuse—a sight that reminded you of yourself. Once a joyful child with a promising future, now your inner lights dimmed by the harsh realities of life.
The bed was adorned with stained sheets that bore the telltale marks of countless forgotten encounters—Before long, you would add your own imprint to the fabric.
This thought left you deeply depressed.
It was only now that the shadows of the room revealed another man seated in the corner of the room…
His presence imposing, he sat with quiet confidence. Clad in white wife-beaters & faded jeans his thick black curly hair framed a rugged face. His mustache highlighted his stern expression, adding to the mystery of his presence.
His gaze—dark and inscrutable—met yours.
Irritation swept across your face, you turned back to Joel “I don’t do threesomes, sir.”, you said firmly, but your voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Joel’s expression hardened.
You couldn’t help but noticed the stark contrast between your ages…The lines etched into Joel’s face telling a story of a life lived long and hard. In contrast your own features still bearing the softness of youth. It was your eyes though that exposed how brittle and weak you really were.
“I’ll pay you extra.”, he said.
The offer hung heavy in the air.
Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He held out the money to you.
Temptation aroused deep within you. It was more money than Dean—your boyfriend—expected you to bring back home tonight…
With trembling hands, you reached out to the money. The crisp bills feeling foreign and heavy in your grip.
As Joel’s gaze bore into yours, you felt a pang of guilt nagging on your conscience. You could feel that accepting this money came with an unknown risk.
You didn’t know those men. They could be bad.
There was a hint of danger lurking behind the shadows of this transaction—But in this moment, the promise of financial security outweighed the nagging voice of doubt that whispered in the back of your mind.
You nodded, accepting his offer. You put the money inside your handbag.
It was sealed.
Joel’s features softened. He triumphantly looked over to the other man in the room—his younger brother, Tommy.
Their silent conversation went unnoticed by you.
“Can I use the restroom, please?”, you asked, voice quivering slightly despite your attempt to sound composed. The weight of uncertainty pressing down on you.
You’d never done anything with two man before...
With a nod, Joel gestured towards the bathroom door.
You made your way to the small, cramped bathroom. In an attempt to shake off the unease you splashed some water on your face and took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
“Get it over with.”, you told yoursel.
You peeled off your coat, revealing the slutty attire your wore beneath. It was by no means modest and clung to your curves like a second skin.
Dean made you wear it, saying that men liked to see a pretty girl in a dress too small for her.
Despite the dim lights, you felt exposed and vulnerable. With trembling hands you smooth down the fabric of the dress, your fingers tracing the patterns of the dress as if seeking reassurance in their familiarity.
Taking a deep breath, you told yourself that you got this, that you would face whatever was awaiting you with courage. You’d squared your shoulders and walked out of the room.
As you emerged from the bathroom, the dim light of the room cast a subtle glow over you figure, highlighting the obvious differences between the men and you.
Joel and Tommy who’s gaze locked onto you. Their gaze lingering hungrily as their minds raced with illicit thoughts…
They didn’t saw you as a person, but as an object for their lust and greed. It was about power and control to them, about profit, and you’d just accepted their offer; cash in exchange for your bod.
Tonight you belonged to them.
Unaware of their true intentions, you offered them a shy little smile. Despite how nervous you were, you refused to let fear consume you.
But it all came crashing down on you when your eyes landed on the camcorder attached atop a tripod. Its lens pointed directly at the bed...
Panic shot through you veins as the realisation set in: they intended to film you!
A shiver ran down your spine.
“Why is there a camcorder?”, you asked after summoning the courage to confront them about it. 
Jowls response was a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette. The ember glowing brightly in the dimly lit room as smoke danced lazily around him. With a nonchalant exhale, he met your gaze. His expression unreadable as he considered his response.
“It’s just for fun.”, he finally replied, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
“I-I don’t like the idea of being recorded.”, you stated your discomfort firmly.
“You already accepted our money, baby-face.”, Tommy smiled, his deep voice cutting through the air like a knife. “There is no backing out of this.”
It was only now that you recognised the undeniable resemblance between Tommy and Joel. The only difference between them was that Tommys eyes held a glimmer of youthful vitality, untouched by the weight of the world that seemed to burden Joel’s.
They were brothers, you realised.
For some reason their familial ties only scared you more…
Tommys words had landed a heavy blow on you. You realised that you were trapped Your fate sealed by the very desperation that had driven you into the men’s clutches.
“Calm down,”, Joel’s voice cuts through the tense air, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We’ll only record for private use.”
Despite the foul feeling in your gut, you forced yourself to believe him. You cling to the fragil hope that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to his words.
“O-okay.”, you nodded.
Tommy reached inside his pocket and fished out a little bag of cocaine. He started to line up the powder onto the wooden table.
“Ya want some?”, he asked you.
His offer hung heavy in the air, loaded with the promise of escape and oblivion, but you knew too well the dangers that lurked beneath its enticing facade of the powder.
It brought back memories of Dean, who’s addiction to cocaine would only fuel his violent outbursts, oftentimes directed at you.
You hoped that Tommy would react differently to the drug.
“No thank you, mister.”, you shook your head. Despite the allure of temporary relief, you couldn’t afford to lose yourself in the haze of drugs.
Tommy shrugged, leaned forward and consumed the powder through his nose—an immediate and noticeable shift overtook his demeanour. The drug infusing him with newfound energy.
You watched with growing unease.
“Is the camera rolling?”, he asked Joel with anticipation.
You knew, once the camera was rolling there was no turning back…
Joel took a swig from the whiskey bottle.
With a steady gaze Joel addressed you, his voice laced with authority as he outlined the rules for the night:
“All you gotta do,” he begun, “is to do what we say. No questions, no objections. Understand?”
His short speech echoed in the silence, each word a chilling reminder of the power dynamics at play.
“Yes, sir.”, you replied, your words a whispered admission of defeat in the face of his overwhelming dominance.
He reminded you of your father.
Joel nodded approvingly at your submission. Joel reached for the camcorder, pressing the record button with a sense of finality.
The red light blinked to life.
Tommy made his way over to the bed. His imposing figure filing the room with an aura of dominance. He sat down right in front of the camcorder, the bed creaked.
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of attraction towards him...
His strong physic and confident demeanour stirred something within you, despite the tension and fear that hung heavy in the air.
His gaze locked onto yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”, he gestured towards himself.
You obeyed Tommys command. You approached him slowly.
When you were close enough, he reached out for your hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin.
With a gentle yet firm guidance, he positioned you between his open legs—right in in front of the lens. As you stood there, trapped between his powerful frame you felt small and caged.
“Undress yourself.”, he said and gave your ass a playful but firm smack, sending yet another jolt of electricity through your body.
With trembling hands, you begun to undress yourself.
With Joel lingering behind the camcorder, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, you felt a sense of vulnerability wash all over you. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were being watched, every move captured by the unblinking lens of the recording devise.
You peeled away the layers of fabric that were shielding you from their hungry gaze.
As you stood there in front of them, clad in only your skin, Tommys hands started to roam all over your body. You felt a shiver of anticipation race down your spine.
But when his touch grew more insistent—turning from playful to possessive—you felt discomfort creeping in.
His hands wandered down between you legs, rubbing along your soft cunt, making Tommys eyes nearly roll back from anticipation. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch.
When Tommy felt your wetness, he smiled mischievously.
“What a good little whore you are.”, Tommy said and smacked your ass again, this time much harder.
You hissed in pain.
The harshness of his smack, coupled with the demeaning label he had assigned to you, you felt your heart grew heavy. The word “whore” echoing through your mind.
Joel seemed to notice your distress.
“I think you hurt her feelings, brother.”, Joel said, a cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a perverse satisfaction blossoming within him at the sight of your distress.
Tommys laughter filled the room.
“Aw, is that true?” his tone mocking, “You don’t like being called a whore?”
You stayed silent, looking down, mentally scolding yourself for getting emotional in front of them.
He kept groping your ass and tits. His colossal hands all over you, burning your tender flesh.
“You liked it better when I called you sweetheart?” Tommy asked, “wanna be our little sweetheart? Get treated like a good girl, a little princess?”
You let him know with a timid little nod.
Tommy made you sit on top of his thigh. You felt out of place being so close to him now. The rough material of his jeans dug into your soft skin, creating some sparkling friction.
“Good girls don’t whore themselves out though...”, he whispered, nose buried deep in the pit between your neck and shoulder, revelling in your feminine scent.
You smelled like vanilla to him.
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, the sting of his words cutting deep. You winced slightly as his hands pinched the flesh of your ass. You remained frozen in place.
“If you want to be treated good, then you have to beg for forgiveness.”, Tommy explained to you.
And then—without warning—Tommy tossed you away.
Pain shoot through you as you landed on the unforgiving ground next to his feet. Naked and vulnerable. You felt abandoned, like a discarded toy in the hands of a cruel child.
“Will you do that, little whore?”, Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Y-yes, sir.”, you nodded, yearning for any semblance of kindness. In your abandoned state, you failed to recognise the cruelty lurking behind his words.
“Take my shoes of and kiss my feet then, cunt.”
With trembling hands, you knelt before him, your fingers trembling as you struggled to remove his boots.
With a heavy heart and tears stinging your eyes, you pressed your plump lips to his feet. Your stomach churning with disgust at the act of submission.
“Please forgive me.” your voice barley above a whisper as you begged for absolution for the sins you were forced to commit
“Forgive what, cunt?”
“Please forgive me for being a..whore.”
As Joel watched the scene unfold in front of him, a sense of arousal stirred within him. His body responding to the display of power and control exhibited by his brother. The way you submitted to his brothers every whim, your vulnerability laid bare before them. It was thrilling.
“I’m not convinced—not at all.”, Tommy said after making a clicking sound with his tongue and shaking his head dismissively. “I’m not convinced that you’re actually sorry.”
Tommy rose to his full height, towering over you like a building, casting a shadow over you.
Tommy grabbed you by your upper arm, his grip tight. He guided you to lay down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge. Your bare back was exposed to not only the men, but also the lens of the camcorder.
The uncertainty of what would unfold next hung heavy in your mind.
With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Tommy reached down and unfastened his leather belt. You heard the metallic clink of his belt echoing in the dimly lit room. Tears begun to flow from your eyes, as the dread of what Tommy would to do next sank in…
“No, no please!”, you cried out.
He was about to punish you, with his belt…
The humiliation of begging for forgiveness and kissing his feet was unbearable enough, but the thought of enduring further punishment filled you with a primal fear.
“Please I am sorry, don’t do that!”, your pleas landed on deaf ears.
“It’s for your own good.”, Tommy said and clenched his fists around the belt. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Truth was, Tommy couldn’t care less about how you felt. He was driven solely by his own twisted desires.
You shook your head in silent protest, tears streaming down your face. You knew that there was no escape. So you brace yourself—mentally and physically—for the inevitable impact that was about to come.
Tommy raised the belt high above his head before landing the first blow upon your bare ass, sending a wave of pain through your body.
“Ah!”, you cried out.
The next strike came quick after.
And again,
and again.
and again.
Each punishing blow, the sting of unforgiving leather against your skin served as a harsh reminder of the sins you were forced to commit.
Each punishing blow, a catapult that hurled you right back to your childhood… The punishments you would receive from your father were of equally painful nature…
Each punishing blow, letting you fall further down a pit of shame and humiliation.
As the hard blows from Tommy's belt continued, your delicate skin began to show signs of distress.
Red welts formed across your flesh, the skin splitting under the force of each strike, revealing raw patches that oozed a little blood.
With each blow, the pain intensified, the sting of the leather against your already irritated skin sending shockwaves of agony through your trembling frame.
Tommys dick got rock hard by your cries and begging.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of sweat and fear in the air, a visceral reminder of the brutality of Tommy's assault.
For Tommy, it smelled like heaven.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you gritted your teeth and endured, your spirit battered but unbroken. You reminded yourself that you’d endured worse. In the darkness of the room, you clung to the fragile hope of survival, knowing that this night was not different than any other; the sun would soon rise.
At this point you’d stopped screaming, entirely. Only finding the strength to cry bitterly into the stained bedsheets.
Despite the twisted satisfaction Joel got from Tommys cruel treatment, he couldn't ignore the sight of your battered and bloodied form.
Joel knew that he had to intervene.
He raised his voice just above the chaos, commanding Tommy to stop:
“Alright, that’s ‘nough, Tommy.” his voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone firm and authoritative.
Tommy hesitated, his grip on the belt loosening as he regarded his brother with a mixture of defiance and resignation.
Relief flooded through you as Joel put an end to Tommy's assault.
As Joel extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray with a flick of his wrist, he glanced at Tommy, making him understand that it was now his turn to take control of the situation.
With a predatory hunger still burning in his eyes, Tommy settled into his seat behind the camera.
Meanwhile, Joel approached the trembling, tear-streaked you.
“Can you stand up?”, curiosity lingering in his voice.
With a heavy heart you pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Your body trembling with pain. You pushed yourself off the bed and stood on shaking legs in front of Joel Miller.
You looked a mess. Tear-streaked cheeks and a face contorted with pain.
“Thank you, sir.”, you sobbed.
Your eyes flickered over at Tommy who was sitting in the corner of the room, not letting you out of his sight. Chest rising and falling from the adrenaline and cocaine pumping through his veins.
As you trembled in the aftermath of his brutality, you couldn't help but view Tommy as a menacing figure whose mere presence filled you with a sense of dread.
To shield yourself from the menacing gaze of Tommy, you instinctively sought refuge behind the protective frame of Joel.
It was clear to Joel that Tommy's cruelty had left its mark on you psyche and that you now—in your hopeless delusion—sought protection from him.
But by him simply placing his large hand on your fragil shoulder—its weight upon you like a heavy stone, making you slowly sink down to your knees under its force—Joel made his position of power crystal clear to you.
It came crushing down on you: He wasn’t your ally, nor your saviour.
He may had stopped Tommy from assaulting you, however he’d also watched it happening in amusement. The only reason why he’d stopped his brother was because he feared Tommy would break you too quickly…
From you kneeling position, you gazed up at Joel. Your eyes filled with a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel would treat you with more kindness and compassion than Tommy had…
Joel began to unbuckle his pants—without taking his eyes off of your pretty fear-streaked face—his movements deliberate and unhurried.
He revealed his hardened cock, it was thick and veiny and looked as powerful as his presence felt to you.
You were inches away from his manhood, the scent of his arousal filling your senses. You knew what he wanted from you next.
“Open up, girl.”, he said, a simple command.
You opened your mouth and leaned forward. Joel placed his hand on your head, before guiding his cock between your plump lips. It fit only partly. You began to move your tongue, letting it swirl around him.
As the scene unfolded before him, Tommy rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on you as you serviced Joel. With trained hands, he took the camcorder off the tripod. Now taking the role as his cameraman, Tommy moved closer to you and Joel to capture a more intimate view of what was going on.
It didn’t went unnoticed by you that Tommy was filming you from up-close now, determined to capture every little explicit detail.
You felt a surge of unease wash over you, now that Tommy was so close. The pain radiating from your ass a painful reminder of how Tommy was capable of. You grew nervous.
So you made the mistake of stopping and taking Joels cock out of your mouth to voice your discomfort.
You opened your mouth to speak, but with a sudden and forceful motion, Joel's hand connected with your cheek.
*smack*
The sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room.
As you recoiled from the strike, you felt fear and humiliation wash over you. Your spirit crushed once again by the weight of his punishment.
With tear-filled eyes, you bowed her head and cried.
“Who told you to stop?”, Joel asked, sounding annoyed with you.
You just shook your head, sobbing quietly.
“Open your mouth and don’t try that again…”
You quickly let him back inside your mouth and continued massaging his member with your tongue.
“They always get so eager after a good beating…”, Tommy smiled.
Joel felt the need to spice things up. So he grasped you by your hair—firmly—and took control over the situation by setting the rhythm and pace. Fucking your mouth, asserting his dominance in every motion. With each subtle shift of his hips and every whispered instruction, Joel made you feel smaller and smaller, whilst he grew bigger and bigger. You were completely at his mercy. Glued to his crotch.
You let him fuck your mouth, gagging and coughing under his grip.
“Good job, keep going.”, Joel hissed.
You opened tour eyes and looked up at him, your vision blurred from your tears. You liked hearing him praise you. It made you feel better. You tried your best not to puke around his cock—or pass out.
Your throat was burning and saliva was flowing out of the corners of your mouth like a waterfall. You were spasm hard, trying to keep your lunch down.
Joel was so deep inside your mouth, that Tommy—and the lens of the camcorder—could see the outline of Joel’s cock in your throat.
With merciless intensity, Joel thrust into your throat, his movements rough and unrestrained.
You started to throw your fists against his muscular thighs, hoping he would back up and let go of your head.
Each forceful thrust pushed your limits.
You couldn't help but wonder how much more you could endure before reaching your breaking point.
Right when your vision had started to get black, Joel released you from his merciless grip.
You collapsed to the ground in a heap, your body trembling with exhaustion and desperation for air. Gasping for air like a desperate goldfish out of water, you lay there, utterly spent and broken by the brutal encounter.
Next you felt was Joel fisting your hair and yanking yout face up. He came all over your face. Painting your face shiny white with bis cum.
“Fuck!”, he hissed, his appearance resembled a wild animal rather than a human.
When he was done, he let you go again.
Your throat burned with the aftermath of Joel's rough treatment. Every muscle in your body ached with fatigue, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensations of pain and humiliation. Your face covered with sticky hot cum.
You felt utterly defeated. Once again you wondered how much you could endure tonight before reaching your breaking point.
“Good job, cunt.”, Joel halfheartedly said, still out of breath and in an undeniably good mood.
“Thank you, dad.”, you whispered in your out-of-your-mind state. A flicker of longing and desperation evident in your voice. You were close to falling unconscious.
“Aw, she thinks you are her fucking father.”, tommy laughed.
Joel remained outwardly composed, but felt a hint of satisfaction at your acknowledgment of his authority.
Tommy pressed the camcorder in Joel’s hand, “Alright I have enough of this.”, Tommys word were accompanied by lifting you up effortlessly and placing you on the bed
Panic floated your senses.
"Can I…can I have something to drink?", the request a desperate plea wanting to numb your senses so that you could endure whatever would come next.
Joel handed you the whiskey bottle, and you eagerly drowned the liquid down, hunting the numbness at the bottom of the bottle.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough”, tommy said, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp.
You let yourself fall back on the hard mattress.
Tommy lowered himself onto you, his weight pressing down on your trembling form. "Let's find out just how much you're really worth," he murmured, his sinister words directed more to himself than at you.
He gripped his already hard member in his hand, slicking it with his saliva in preparation.
You didn’t count Tommy for someone who would take his time in preparing you for penetration, so additional help was welcomed.
You reached down and rubbed your clit, in hopes to generate some wetness…
But the only thing that was acting up was your flight or fight response.
Tommy's gaze resembled that of a starved dog, hungrily eyeing you as if you were only a piece of meat.
Tommy wasted no more time lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance between your shaking legs.
With a single forceful thrust, Tommy rammed his cock deep inside you.
“Ouh!”, you whimpered, clutching his thick muscular arms for support as a jolt of pain shot through you.
Tommy wasted no time, swiftly finding a rhythm that satisfied his desires, plunging in and out of you with relentless favour.
“Ah stop!”, you cried.
Instinctively, you resisted his brutal thrusts, attempting to push him away and free yourself from his assault.
Your attempt was met with yet another harsh slap across your face, reminding you painfully of your powerlessness against Tommy.
“Keep crying, little whore, come on.”, Tommy hissed.
You shook your head and looked away, but Tommy grasped your chin firmly, making sure you couldn't look away from him, his gaze commanding your full attention.
Your body trembled under Tommy with each forceful thrust.
It could’ve been the alcohol, but eventually, your body adapted to his thrusts, the sensation becoming dull.
“Fuck, for a rundown prostitute you are tight as fuck”, Tommy pressed out in between his thrusts.
Tommys degrading words seemed to be so far away, you almost couldn’t hear them.
Your gaze drifted over to Joel, who sat in Tommy's chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
As your eyes met, a wave of shame washed over you, his watchful gaze reminded you of how your father used to look at you: disappointed and full of judgment.
It felt as if Joel could see right through you, condemning you for the wrong decisions you had made, like running away with your boyfriend, Dean.
In that moment, you realized your father had been right all along, but it was too late to turn back. You had irreversibly altered the course of your life, and men like Tommy were the consequence of your choices.
Another blow struck your cheeks, catching you off guard. “Don’t look at him, he won’t safe you this time.”
After what felt like an eternity, you sensed that Tommy was nearing his climax.
It was only then that you realised that he hadn’t bothered with a condom—another boundary crossed in the course of this night.
“Please don’t cum in me.”, you sounded hopeless.
Tommy drew out of you, grabbed your hair and yanked your head off the edge of the bed. He then violently started to empty his balls on your face, mixing his cum with your tears and his brothers cum.
When he was done, he let go of your hair. Your skull arched. Your ass hurt. And your throat and vagina feeling rough and scratchy.
“Don’t worry, cunt”, Tommy begun “last thing I want is having another whore being the mother of my child.”
It was only then you noticed that he wore a ring on his finger. He was married.
Tommy allowed himself to collapse onto the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.
You rolled out of the bed and dragged yourself into the bathroom, tears and cum streaming down your face.
You cleaned your face with water, your hands shaking. You put your dress on. All you wanted to get out of here. You had your money, but you lost the little bit of dignity you had left.
“Dean will be proud.”, you thought. You just wanted to go back to him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, your feet carried you straight to the front door, driven by the urgent need to flee.
However, Joel's words stopped you in your tracks. "Tell Dean, Joel said hello.”
With a silent nod, you turned and walked back out into the eerie night, the weight of the encounter hanging heavy on your shoulders…
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gaydinosaurrr · 21 days
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"Shut the fuck up about your fucking weewoo weewoo canon bisexual bi guy show, no one cares" ~ my friend, a destiel veteran
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cripplestein · 2 months
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fanficfanattic · 5 months
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Ted Lasso Players by (Approx) Ages youngest to oldest (for season 1, “It’s 2020, babe. Women can do anything”.)
Kukoč & Sam (20)
Jamie (23)
Arlo & Isaac & Moe & Tommy (24)
Colin & Dani & Tom (25)
Richard & Jack & Declan (26)
Robbie & Thierry (27)
Jeff & Ugo (28)
Jan (28)
Gareth (28.5)
Paul (29)
Roy (38)
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badbucky · 1 year
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Moe Bumbercatch being a genius (ft. himbos)
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hanitje · 1 year
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I found out that Tommy Winchester was a former West Ham United player before transferring to AFC Richmond. And apparently, his whole family is a West Ham United fan. The whole family bleeds The Hammer. Like, CAN WE HAVE A STORYLINE about him?! What did his family think when he transferred to Richmond? And what was his family's reaction when Richmond had a match against West Ham, practically being violent against their fave club? I'm surprised that The Hammer fans didn't riot.
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I understood the found family trope, obviously, but did Tommy have a fallout with his own family? It seems he's very close with his Richmond teammates, especially Sam.
Remember when he brought that goat jollof to the Christmas dinner and gave it to Sam? Remember when he was the second person to support Sam to boycott Dubai Air?
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And then he fixed Sam's restaurant and have dinner with everybody. Damn, I wanna know more about this character. What happened to his relationship with his own family?
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mrslectermoriarty · 21 days
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Normal people: The firefighter's bi Tumblr: *celebrating Tommy × Buck and/or possible Buddie* Me: Destiel was doomed because in that one restaurant scene there was a blue tablecloth and in 9-1-1 there is now a red one, Red is the colour of love - there is hope for both ships...
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Say it. Say, I'm the weirdo. I haven't slept last night, I'm giggling over this.
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horsegirlcastiel · 5 days
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anyways. it's cloudy in los angeles when dean and sam come to town. 2007. it's cold and rainy and there's a ghost haunting the set of a horror movie. maybe more than one ghost! and dean fucks tara benchley in her trailer. and he really wants to fuck martin flagg, the movie's writer. and he's got an itch in his system he needs to scratch. so when sam holes up at the motel that night, dean goes to a bar. picks a badge and ladder joint. walks in. knows this is the right spot. big men sitting solo at the bar, processing hard days at work. and dean's got his long eyelashes and wide eyes and freckles dotted across his nose. he's got a hickey on his neck. he pulls up next to a particularly big man. with a nice sharp nose and a clean haircut. and he says "hi". and the guy shakes his hand, introduces himself as tommy. he's kinda funny, and he keeps looking into dean's eyes and then looking down at his whiskey like he's got to control himself, and yeah. this is the one. so dean puts a ten down on the counter, covers both their drinks, and he winks at tommy and heads out of the bar. and like. he knows to give the guy a second, so he stands in the alley and lights up a cigarette and blows smoke into the sky above hollywood. thinks hollywood. bright lights, and belonging. where he could perform and someone would tell him "good job" for it. and then, like clockwork, tommy slips around the corner. stands next to dean, presses his shoulder against his. says "y'know, i'm a firefighter. i think i'm meant to put those things out." and he grabs the cigarette right from between dean's lips and presses it out into the wet pavement with the toe of his boot. and then he looks up again, takes a breath. dean's all dimples and swagger, he's got him--hook, line, n sinker. but he’s gonna make tommy make the first move because he's big and he ought to know what he wants. dean plays it up, bites his lip, says “hey, i was smokin’ that.” and tommy huffs a laugh, mumbles something like “fuck it” under his breath, and then he’s pushing dean back into the brick of the wall and kissing him. and he’s got dean’s head cradled between both his hands and dean melts. like damn, this forest fire of a man is fucking kissing him. movie-magic-old-school-hollywood-golden-age-best-picture style. and dean pulls back a bit, when it seems like tommy’ll never come up for air. says “what’s the rush, big guy?” and when tommy breathes "sorry. sorry–just. i've needed that.” dean says “been a while?” 
tommy closes his eyes and nods, “forever.”
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